Everyone has dignity.
Just like Gilgamesh, the King of Heroes, and Artoria, the King of Knights—each carried their own pride, their own selfishness.
But Wanwan did not see any selfishness in this woman's eyes.
That kind of selfless heart…
The gods cherished such people most.
And so did Wanwan.
Moreover, the words this figure had spoken—Wanwan knew the gods would approve of them as well.
She smiled faintly. Very well. I'll grant her happiness… then end this farce of a war once and for all.
"Rise, Restia of the Skies!"
"Shine forth with the highest light!"
"Witness the brilliance of Yu's talent… hear the thunderous applause of Rome… with the glory of those in power—bloom like a flower!"
"Come forth—Golden Theater!!!"
With a flourish, Nero Claudius invoked her Noble Phantasm.
The magical barrier enveloped the battlefield, wrapping Wanwan and herself within its gilded stage. A radiant beam of light descended from the heavens, pouring into her crimson blade.
Nero's eyes gleamed with resolve. She faced the goddess who stood unshaken, and launched her strongest strike.
Her speed broke the sound barrier. The sword's edge carved a crimson arc, rushing toward Wanwan with the fury of Rome's pride.
BOOM!
The two crossed.
Nero staggered, dropping to one knee, shock flashing in her pale green eyes.
Because when her blade had struck… it had been like cutting into nothingness.
There was no resistance. No impact. Not even the sensation of steel meeting flesh.
What… what is this?
Wanwan turned slowly, her black hair fluttering, her smile serene. "Your strength is commendable. But we are not on the same level. My darkness devours all things—your swordsmanship, your theater, even this very world."
She raised her hand, pressing her palm gently outward.
The radiant Roman theater collapsed in an instant, scattering into motes of golden dust.
Above, the rain still fell. A gentle drizzle that matted Nero's scarlet dress and plastered her golden hair to her cheeks.
"Forgive me… my comrade…" Nero whispered bitterly toward Shirou Emiya, who had rushed out to her side.
The gap was too vast.
A Heroic Spirit—even one with the might of an emperor—was still nothing before a goddess.
Shirou caught her, shaking his head. "No, Nero. You've already done more than enough."
The Holy Grail War… truthfully, he had never cared about it much. As long as the Grail did not fall into the wrong hands, there was nothing wrong with this goddess taking victory.
Arrogant though she was, he could not deny—she was kind to ordinary people. He'd seen it himself.
Only yesterday, she had directed Rin Tohsaka to hand out food to refugees. Rin had been livid at being treated like a servant, but civilians had eaten well that night.
Shirou grimaced. She's insufferable, but… she does protect the weak.
High above, the world's barrier shuddered.
Alaya, the collective unconscious of humanity, finally moved.
The Grail, swollen with centuries of curses, began to writhe.
Deep within its abyss, the sleeping Angra Mainyu stirred. The black mud churned violently as malice and sin flooded toward him.
Now, with all Heroic Spirits defeated, only the "Evil of This World" remained.
Wanwan felt the earth's ley lines convulse. She whispered to Rin Tohsaka through their link: "Prepare the sacrifice. The evil has begun to manifest. The Grail is about to appear."
"Yes," Rin answered immediately, rallying the survivors. Together, they led the faithful toward the tower.
Of the original Fuyuki populace, less than thirty percent remained. But those who survived… had all converted to the Eternal Faith.
The sky darkened. A strange black-red glow rippled across the clouds. The earth itself seemed to bleed.
And at last—the Holy Grail revealed itself.
A massive chalice of gold, fifty centimeters tall, hovering in the air.
Artoria's eyes hardened as foul mud erupted from within it, spilling like tar. This… this is the Grail I once fought for? This abomination was meant to grant my wish?
Cheating. A cruel trick.
Gilgamesh only laughed. "Fools. Behold the truth of the Grail. This is its core—the evils of humanity gathered into one vessel."
He knew it well. In the last Grail War, he had been its victor. He had accepted the black mud's corruption, and from it gained a physical body in this age.
But the price had been steep. His glory eroded, his sanity frayed. Even Enkidu's memory had nearly been swallowed.
The true King of Heroes was the one from the Sumerian age, not this mad reflection.
Enkidu sat quietly at his side, sorrow in his emerald eyes. "So… sin lingers still, even after Mother's death."
Silence followed. None dared interrupt the two oldest heroes.
Illyasviel, meanwhile, felt despair coil in her chest. Her family's generations-long goal had been to use the Grail for immortality. But this… this foul corruption…
Immortality through such a thing was meaningless.
Only the Eternal Faith could grant true eternity.
The Grail pulsed with magic.
It rose into the sky, spilling endless curses. Black mud cascaded like rivers, thick with resentment.
Because of Alaya's interference, the evil within the Grail had grown even more twisted.
Minutes later, the heavens split.
And from the rift descended the embodiment of corruption.
Angra Mainyu.
The shadow of all humanity's sins.
He locked onto Wanwan instantly, surging forward as a tide of darkness.
The sheer force of his attack sent chills down every Master and Servant alike.
Nero staggered back, eyes wide. "He's absorbing the black mud into himself!"
Angra Mainyu roared. "This world should not exist!!!"
Thousands of weapons, forged from cursed mud, hurtled toward Wanwan like a storm.
She only sighed.
Extending one finger, she summoned a black whirlwind, swirling like a nebula.
It swallowed the barrage effortlessly.
"That's it?" she said flatly. "Can't you do better? My power is suppressed to its lowest, and still you cannot even make me try."
Her tone was almost bored.
This, the so-called evil of humanity? This pitiful shadow?
"Remember, child," Wanwan murmured, voice carrying through the collapsing city, "true evil is not about shouting loudest or looking most deranged.
True evil… is to become the darkness itself."
Her power surged. Buildings crumbled to dust. Seawater rotted into sludge. The very ley lines cracked apart.
The storm clouds shattered.
Angra Mainyu froze in horror as his strength was stripped away.
"No… I am evil incarnate! I am Angra Mainyu! You will die!"
He lunged desperately, draining the Grail's mud into himself.
But Wanwan's pull was stronger.
The black mud tore free of him, sucked into her body. The filth was purified in her flames, leaving only raw power that merged into her being.
Angra Mainyu shrieked as his body crumbled. By the time he struck the ground, he was nothing but dust, scattered by the wind.
Wanwan exhaled softly, as if after a meal. "Weak. Not even one ten-thousandth of my system's darkness…"
On the ground, Rin Tohsaka fell to her knees, expression blank. Then she hurriedly began the ritual of sacrifice.
Her only thought was simple: Send this monster away as soon as possible. Otherwise, she'll drive me insane!
God's Domain
Within the Ziwei Palace, Liu Che was studying the Law of Time when he felt the signal.
His lips curved faintly. "So… the moment has come."
The message came not from an ordinary world, but from a familiar one—the Type-Moon plane.
His divine consciousness spread, and through the channel of faith, he beheld Wanwan smiling mischievously at him.
She had twisted the Holy Grail War into her playground.
Shaking his head, Liu Che allowed himself a small chuckle. Very well. Let's collect the rewards.
His form vanished, reappearing outside the world barrier of the Moonlit World.
Compared to others he had visited, it was weaker than the Saint's Cemetery plane—but its laws were still intact, solid, complete.
He stepped through the channel of faith, his presence trembling across countless parallel worlds.
Each step forward, the pressure of world consciousness pressed against him, like the weight of the unknown itself.
"I see… so plane worlds truly resist invasion. No wonder the old texts speak of plane wars. They cannot be collected gently."
Ordinary worlds could be harvested simply by gathering enough energy. But planes… planes contained entire clusters of worlds, each with its own will.
Thus, to conquer them, one required a war of planes.
The sky rippled.
The great river of time unfolded before him like a scroll.
From within the stars emerged two figures—manifestations of the world's restraining forces.
Alaya. Gaia.
The guardians of Type-Moon's balance.
They trembled before him, abandoning their distant vantage.
"Alaya, Gaia," they said together, bowing deeply. "We greet the Great God."
Liu Che studied them calmly. Alaya appeared as a blue-dressed girl, Gaia as a yellow-dressed maiden.
He inclined his head. "Rise."
The two stood obediently.
Alaya tilted her head timidly. "Great God… are you here to take us away?"
Liu Che's eyes glinted with amusement. "Why ask that?"
Gaia bit her lip. "You've been draining faith from this planet. Do you think we would not notice?"
"Gaia!" Alaya snapped, stamping her foot, face pale. She kicked her companion lightly.
"How could you say such a thing aloud? If he grows angry, we'll be erased!"
Indeed, the god before them manipulated the flow of time itself. A feat beyond any deity of their pantheon.
Yet Liu Che did not grow angry.
Instead, his voice was calm, almost gentle. "If I had not acted, your planet would already be doomed. Neither of you have the power to destroy the evil of this world. Without intervention, extinction was certain.
Now I ask you: would you rather cling to death… or accept a new life?"
Gaia fell silent, eyes downcast.
Alaya answered at once, her voice firm despite trembling lips. "We choose life."