"Archer, so you've finally found peace within yourself."
In the flower garden of the Hanging Gardens, two beautiful maidens were conversing. Jeanne d'Arc looked at Atlanta's calm expression, sighed in relief, then broke into a radiant smile.
"That's truly wonderful."
They were discussing the events in foggy London. When faced with the resentment of countless children, Atlanta had chosen protection while Jeanne had chosen purification. Their conflict had nearly escalated beyond control, and subsequent events had left them little opportunity for proper conversation until now.
"Don't get too excited, Ruler. My change of heart has nothing to do with you," Atlanta huffed with tsundere pride. "It's only because Sakatsuki was so annoyingly persistent that I reluctantly reconsidered. Though our relationship remains adversarial—just in a different sense now."
"A different sense?" Jeanne's face showed innocent confusion. Seeing this, Atlanta leaned close to whisper a detailed account of what happened after their cliffside fall. As the scandalous whispers reached her ears, the saint's eyes widened like a drenched puppy's, her breathing grew heavier, and crimson spread from her neck up her cheeks to the very tips of her ears—
"W-w-w-what kind of nonsense are you suddenly saying!?"
"Hmm? Isn't this perfectly normal?" Atlanta's beast ears twitched in puzzlement. "Men and women's affections, procreation—aren't these humanity's natural laws?"
"T-that sort of... that sort of behavior during the Holy Grail War is utterly shameless! And I don't even have a partner to begin with... No, wait! Aaah, honestly, I need to calm down!"
Jeanne flailed her arms wildly before slapping her cheeks repeatedly.
"A-anyway! While it's none of my concern, what about Laeticia... Yes! If you've already done... that with Sakatsuki, what about Laeticia! She has feelings for him too!"
"What are you talking about, Saint?" Laeticia raised a tiny pink fist in protest from within their shared soul. Meanwhile, Atlanta studied the blushing saint with an odd expression.
Could this be... embarrassment?
In her era, such innocent maidens were rare. How amusing that she could deceive herself about something so obvious to others.
How adorable.
Strangely, Atlanta found herself liking this saint more. Smirking, she said, "Well, just don't regret it later. Back to business—after hearing Sakatsuki's ideals, you seemed quite shaken."
Jeanne remained silent. Unbothered, Atlanta continued:
"In that case, care to guess why I'm here?"
"O-oh, right!" Only then did Jeanne realize—if Atlanta had those feelings for Sakatsuki, even if she didn't fight alongside him, she shouldn't be standing against him either?
"Hmm, though I truly have no interest in humans or the future, since the Master who summoned me was killed, it's only right that I seek vengeance against the murderer," Atlanta explained. "Moreover, I don't believe Amakusa and Sakatsuki's ideals can succeed. No one has ever been able to save humanity, nor does humanity need saving."
"If you don't agree with them, then just join the opposing side. That's the simple reason I'm standing here, isn't it?"
"But... what would he think..."
"You mean Sakatsuki?" Atlanta chuckled lightly. "Haven't you realized it yet? That young man's love is different from the heroes we know. It's not mere possession, nor does it suffocate like a cage. If I had to compare it... yes, though this might sound presumptuous, he's like the moon."
"The moon... what do you mean?" Jeanne d'Arc asked in confusion. Atlanta shook her head gently, offering no further explanation, and instead tilted her face upward, allowing the radiant moonlight to softly capture her delicate features.
It was silver moonlight flowing across the rooftop, enchanting and tender, as if capable of drawing anyone deeply into its embrace. It had once graced the windowsills of boudoirs, adorning maidens' dreams; it had also shimmered upon the evening dew, crystal clear, like the eyes of wanderers chasing love.
No traveler could refuse such a feeling. Simply by staying by his side, both soul and body would feel lighter; no matter how far one journeyed, that moonlight would always accompany them, never departing.
May I chase this moonlight to shine upon you.
"Go ahead and act, Ruler," Atlanta finally said. "As those who love him, shouldn't we show him our very best selves?"
"Our will, ideals, and choices—these are the reasons for this love."
Jeanne d'Arc looked at Atlanta. The wildcat-like huntress smiled, her eyes gentle as water, brimming with the joy of affection. Jeanne knew where these feelings were headed and couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy.
Wild, unrestrained, unreserved—that was Atlanta's love, but it was certainly not the way of a saint.
Yet—
Beneath the cool moonlight, the holy maiden of France had realized what she must do.
"You're right, Archer. I am the Ruler of this war, here to uphold the order of the Holy Grail War. Since I've chosen this path, I should have no lingering doubts."
With the fog cleared, Jeanne's eyes shone like amethysts.
"I will show Sakatsuki, in my own way, what the right path truly is."
"Oh?" Atlanta nodded, then abruptly added, "So you still think it's Laeticia who likes Sakatsuki?"
"Ah—well, um..." The saint's composure crumbled instantly, her face flushing crimson like a freshly picked apple. "Don't tease me like this, Atlanta."
The huntress smiled without another word, about to continue teasing Jeanne in this state, when suddenly, the saint froze. An expression of disbelief crossed her face, and her demeanor shifted instantly. The solemn Ruler strode forward, heading toward the throne room.
"What's wrong?"
"Saber..." Jeanne's brow furrowed tightly. "The Black Saber, Siegfried, has been eliminated."
"This information is crucial. I must discuss it with Fiore and the others immediately!"
Just then, a pale, gaunt man appeared slowly from the end of the path. Karna watched the hurried Jeanne d'Arc calmly and said, "Ruler, I need to speak with you."
"I'm sorry, but I'm in a hurry right now..."
"Though it may be presumptuous, this matter has been approved by both Father Amakusa and Miss Fiore."
"...Very well. Please come with me, Lancer of Red."
"Much obliged."
After bidding farewell to Atalanta, Jeanne and Karna disappeared beyond the flower beds. Notably, on the way to the throne room, Jeanne caught a glimpse of the Red Saber's door left ajar. The rebellious knight Mordred sat on the bed, her sword resting across her knees, her expression distant.
Was it her imagination, or did Mordred's Noble Phantasm seem oddly familiar...?
No, now wasn't the time to dwell on such thoughts. Jeanne shook her head and quickened her pace.
A divine warning echoed in her heart—something irreversible was happening... no, had already happened.
Meanwhile, Atalanta watched them leave before turning in another direction, her eyes flickering with contemplation.
This was a question that had struck her during her conversation with Jeanne.
Allowing her to return to the Red faction, eliminating Avicebron, permitting the destruction of the primordial giant Adam, deliberately giving both sides breathing room, entrusting Reika Rikudou to the enemy, even corrupting the King of Knights who had stayed by his side into her Alter form—and now, Siegfried had vanished for unknown reasons...
By this point, the Blue faction's remaining combatants were only Sakatsuki and Artoria Alter.
Her beloved, Sakatsuki—perhaps even he hadn't realized it—but his actions seemed to betray a certain tendency:
Self-destruction.
The huntress hurried down the corridor, her footsteps echoing. She passed her own room and arrived at the makeshift prison where Shakespeare was confined—his study.
Though it pained her to admit, the one who knew Sakatsuki's story best wasn't her, but this pleasure-seeking playwright. He should know everything about that young man.
The door swung open as Atalanta stepped inside.
If anyone could discern deeper truths, it would be Shakespeare—the literary giant who had plumbed the depths of human nature.
But then, two figures came into view. Atalanta looked past an awkwardly grinning Shakespeare to the young man leaning against the window, admiring the garden scenery. Her voice trembled in disbelief:
"Saka... tsuki?"
Hearing Atalanta's call, the young man turned slowly. The oppressive aura of a superior Phantasmal Species radiated from him, causing the huntress's hair to stand on end. She tensed instinctively yet found herself frozen, unable to move as Sakatsuki advanced toward her.
One step, two steps, three... The moonlight faded as shadows enveloped Atalanta's flustered face.
"Why are you here... Mmmph!"
Amid Shakespeare's barely contained excitement, Sakatsuki leaned down and captured the maiden's lips. Warm breath washed over her, and Atalanta's mind went blank, her body melting as she surrendered to his embrace.
The silent moonlight flowed over them, casting the lovers' entwined figures—or perhaps, a dragon reveling in his treasured hoard.
Time seemed to lose meaning. By the time Sakatsuki finally released his embrace, Atlanta had already drifted into a hazy slumber. The young man gently caressed her cheek, brushing through her hair as shadows of imaginary numbers rose from the darkness, transforming into ribbons that enveloped the maiden, slowly sinking into an unknown space.
After this final moment of tenderness, Sakatsuki ran his fingers across his lips with a wistful smile before turning to face the wide-eyed figure rapidly scribbling notes—Shakespeare. His tone remained as composed as ever.
"How are you holding up?"
"Of course! This is precisely when my perseverance shines!" Shakespeare waved excitedly from his mahogany armchair. "Go now, lift the final crimson curtain! I can hardly contain my anticipation! May fortune favor your blade!"
Sakatsuki bowed silently to the still-seated playwright before stepping backward, vanishing into layered shadows. Only after confirming the youth's departure did Shakespeare's grin fade. Narrowing his eyes, he murmured in quiet admiration.
"Love tames the wild, suddenly softening the heart... Truly, a classic and exquisite tale."
His writing hand dropped limply, the pen tapping against the chair's surface through his trouser leg—a crisp sound resembling both a sigh and the heralding of a stage's final act.
Beyond the study, violent explosions erupted as the young man's clear voice rang through the night:
"Blue Faction's Assassin, Sakatsuki, seeks your instruction."
"This marks our final battle, comrades of both Black and Red factions!"