91: For Sinners, Atonement
In Kabukichō, the streets were filled with swaying, hollow vocal puppets — at least over two hundred of them stood scattered around, with another hundred patrolling the vicinity of Shinjuku regularly, hunting for living humans.
These were monsters created by the Berserker-class Servant, the Phantom of the Opera, and the Empress Christine.
Though they looked like puppets on the outside, they were actually made from humans. Beneath the hard shell, muscles still connected to veins that circulated blood, and internal organs still beat and pulsed.
However, their skin and bones had been stripped away, their personalities and brains had long since collapsed. All that remained was a body being controlled like a machine.
They were more twisted than vengeful spirits. Even their souls — the parts that governed mind and memory — had been stripped away, leaving behind only the part of the soul that moved the body.
They were mindless husks, half-dead, half-alive — living corpses that hadn't fully died.
If one asked whether there was any salvation left for them — it was already too late. But half of their souls were still bound inside those husks. Perhaps the only way to free them now… was to destroy those bindings, and give them release.
The Berserker Servant, having lost his reason, could no longer be communicated with.
He considered the human form ugly and believed only puppets possessed the artistic beauty of true art.
If it were purely about combat strength, there were countless other options — there was no need for such troublesome methods. He had simply created them according to his own interests.
Atop a platform, the puppetized Empress Christine stood and sang.
Beside her, the Phantom of the Opera swooned in intoxicated admiration. When the singing ceased, all the hollow vocal puppets applauded in unison. Then they waited for the empress to sing again — and applauded again.
Thus, it continued. Repeated endlessly. Twenty-four hours a day, uninterrupted: singing… applause… singing… applause…
From the rooftop of a nearby shop building, a group of teenagers stood, looking out over the scene unfolding in Kabukichō.
"This place is broken too," Shirou said, once again feeling the distortion of this world. He was angry — and sorrowful for the lives that had been lost.
"What are you saying at this point? This world was meant to break from the start.
But these disgusting singing puppets — I really want to just burn them all to ash," Jeanne said, arms crossed and brows furrowed.
"If it weren't for these buildings blocking the way, I'd wipe them all out with my Noble Phantasm in one shot!" Artoria added.
The magical energy in this space was extremely dense. Even the steel and concrete buildings had been infused with mana — they were as hard as temple floor tiles constructed atop ley lines and massive ritual circles. Not even the Holy Sword could easily destroy them.
"I have an idea. First, let's capture one of those vocal puppets," said Shinjuku Archer.
"What are you planning to do?" Mash asked.
"I'll modify it a little and make a bomb. The puppets return to Kabukichō at set times every day. If we detonate the bomb then, it will definitely cause chaos. That would be the perfect time to strike down the Empress and the Phantom — the two Berserkers. But… Master, are you prepared to push the detonator and kill those people?" Shinjuku Archer asked carefully, turning to the red-haired girl.
"I… I can." Gudako bit her lip and spoke stubbornly.
She hated this method and didn't want to see anyone get hurt, but from her past experiences, the girl had long since realized — to save the world, sacrifice was inevitable.
At that moment, Shirou stepped forward and said, "Old man, even as the 'good' side of you, you came up with a plan like this. I guess your original self really is a hopeless piece of villainous scum. What a terrible plan."
"No! Shirou-Senpai, I can do it!" Gudako clenched her fists and insisted.
"Don't worry. It hasn't come to that yet. Maybe, down the line, you'll have to face even crueler decisions… But as long as I'm here, I won't let you do something that would hurt your own heart," Shirou said gently, patting the girl's head — his tone soft but firm.
"Oh ho, then boy — do you have a better plan?" the bearded old man looked over with interest and asked.
Shirou nodded and said, "Yeah. Leave the vocal puppets to me. As for the Berserkers — I'll leave them to you all."
"Shirou, don't push yourself. Even with the Holy Spear, there's no way you can defeat that many puppets alone," Artoria said, staring at the boy.
"Exactly! Just blow them up! Why are you dragging this out? Tch, fine — I'll stay and help you!" Jeanne said, clearly annoyed.
"I don't need to defeat them. It's enough to send their souls back where they belong," Shirou said calmly.
"Yeah! Yeah! With me helping Shirou, that's more than enough! When it comes to dealing with these things, I'm the expert!" a voice came from a small box in a cage by his right hand.
There are many versions of the Arthurian legends. In different regions, the King went on adventures and challenges with different knights — and ultimately perished due to betrayal by his vassals.
For example, in the legend of the Eternal King, the King was taken to Avalon by four witches — or the Lady of the Lake — and did not die, but merely fell into a deep slumber, destined to return one day and save humanity.
There were also several different tales about the King's burial site.
In ancient times, kings often constructed multiple tombs to prevent enemies from exacting revenge after death. This wasn't uncommon.
As Britain's most legendary king, tales of Arthur's final resting place were spread across many parts of the country. The boy's current body happened to belong to a line of gravekeepers from one of those tomb sites.
A gravekeeper is not a magus — but a specialist in dealing with spirits.
Though they also inherit engraved crests, unlike a magus family's hereditary system, their purpose is different and their abilities are more singular, so their successors aren't held to such strict standards.
Relying on the crest passed down through generations of gravekeepers, the boy used the magical tool "Add" to fight.
"If they were evil spirits, we'd probably be in for a brutal battle. But these poor lingering souls trapped inside husks — stripped of awareness — it's only a matter of time," Shirou said, staring at the densely packed vocal puppets below with a calm gaze.
"Ha ha ha ha! This place is amazing! It's full of vengeful spirits! I'm gonna feast to my heart's content!" the box engraved with a face — mouth and eyes — flapped open and shut, as the simulated personality inside, Add (or Kai), laughed maniacally.
The vocal puppets were half-dead existences. Their broken flesh still held fragmented souls. And the gravekeeper… would bring release to all souls that suffered.
"Let's go, Add!" Shirou's amber-colored Mystic Eyes suddenly flashed with prismatic light. Though he had the upper hand, it was still far too difficult to fight off the assault of 300 puppet-like creatures, each nearly at the level of a phantasmal beast.
Which is why… he had to enhance his weapon — right now.