Finis Chaldea

Caster's mind had been all but wiped. What this vision of his some sort of premonition? Or, perhaps... was he seeing the truth of current events from the perspective of his own ghost? What a terrible reality, but there was no undoing it if it were true. But... what if it wasn't true at all? He didn't remember feeling anything, so this had to be some sort of vision. Premonition confirmed? Maybe. Whatever the case, he was frozen while trying to even rationalize current events. The woman classified as Saber approached and spoke to the pair, but he registered none of it during his own state of shock.

Another who did not register something, was Avenger himself. His descent continued when he was addressed. During this, there was a tilt to the male's head; it was confusing that some random girl addressed him the way she did. Two were cowering, so why was this one standing firm? Curious, curious. Avenger slouched, his long arms hooking at the elbows as he furiously scratched his own neck. It seemed to be a fearful reaction of some sort, but it was during said scratching that one fact was perhaps made clear. His head and hands were covered in bandages... but those bandages were not made of cloth. No, they were in fact Avenger's own skin torn off and used to mummify him prior to his ascension as some sort of evil god. He was confused, and confusion only made him more afraid, which in turn enhanced the madness pouring from him. Why did she not cower? Did she not understand that everything in this world was frightening? "Words. No─ no words. Grail. The Grail will fix the world. Kill yourselves; give me the Grail."

Both of the remaining people seemed to have a problem with the amount of fear coming off of the last real enemy. Artoria had no issues with this, mostly because everything she could have been afraid of had been crushed a long time before now. Of course, this didn't stop her from trying to reason with this person she was looking at and the more she stared the worse off she realized that one's situation was. He was draped in skin, he had nervous reactions and he didn't seem capable of normal people thoughts. He wanted the grail to fix the world and wanted everyone else to kill themselves to make this happen. A strange look crossed Artoria's face, she felt nothing for this man but pity, but she could not do as he asked, nor could she let anyone else do what he wished. "That grail belongs to me. On my honor it is going with me... I can do nothing to change that," she said carefully. "I am sorry, truly... Both for what has happened to you, and for not being able to offer you more solace," she offered truly apologetic. She could see he'd experienced what was likely the worst this world had to offer. She could see him in the same way she saw herself most of the time even so she could not turn over the grail, nor would she let anyone kill themselves over it.

The light from Excalibur shined even as she held that weapon and now standing between these other two and this man she was preparing to potentially have to do the worst and kill what was a man who presented themselves like frightened child. "I would prefer not to hurt a frightened child who does not wish to fight. I would help you if you would allow it, but you must stand down," she offered genuinely. She was a knight first and foremost. She did not like the idea of hurting an already wounded person, of course, she also did not like the idea of leaving him to run amok around the world inspiring fear in all around him because he was afraid. She'd put him out of his misery and take up what he was with those who created him, no one should suffer as such.

Scratching, scratching, scratching, scratching. Avenger continued clawing at his own neck, tearing flesh and letting a strange, blackened blood leak from the wounds. The Grail was hers? No! He couldn't take something that belonged to someone else; that was too frightening a situation to deal with. No, but it couldn't be hers. He'd been brought here with the promise of a wish, if only six others died. Three were gone already, and three were standing right in front of him. All they had to do was die and free themselves from the horrors of this world, so he could free everything else. "No, you can't!" he yelled, his upper body contorting frontwards and backwards as he stood with bent knees. "Don't you see?! Everything is just. So. Terrifying. I can fix it. I'm scared, but I will fix it!"

He was beginning to freak out just a bit. With that though, his blood itself reacted to the sensation of fear. Those wounds in his neck spewed black blood, which coagulated while forming spikes extending from the wounds toward Saber and the others. They were still attached, of course, and the blood was strangely as firm as any weapon. It wasn't his intention to do battle with this woman either. He didn't want to fight; that was terrifying. He also didn't want to run away; there were a frightening number of possibilities that happened as a result. Whenever Avenger felt this way, he was at his worst. The flaps of skin used as bandaging contorted around his body while his blood did what he couldn't bring himself to do... and attacked.

Artoria watched as the man before her scratched his skin and freaked out. Of course, she only felt worse for him, but that didn't change what she would have to do here. Truly, this grail was hers, she'd claimed it already. She could not return without it, she also could not die here and now. So on all accounts this man would have to be put out of his misery. Even so, she'd done her duty to see that she tried her best not to have to harm someone whom didn't need more harm. All the while, she watched as black blood oozed from his wounds and kept an eye out for any sudden movements.

"Life can be terrifying, yes. But you can't see it be anything else if you do not try to," she mentioned. He wanted to fix it, that was commendable. Even so, she didn't think he had the right mindset to make it so. Poor poor man, he couldn't even bring himself to attack initially. So here, he is standing before her finally attacking at the last possible moment. Artoria saw that there was a blood on the move. She'd told the others that she would protect them and she had every intention of doing so. "Avalon's Sanctuary." The sheath of her sword which had been simply floating around her, moved on to protect the two who were behind her. As she moved forward. She swung her blade to keep said hardened blood from approaching her and aimed to swing with not just light but power behind the swing, mana flowed down her weapon in the form of wind based energy which would aim to disrupt that blood that came from his body. She aimed to push it further forward in a bursting wave which would knock this man backward several meters. but it wasn't just that anymore. Artoria now possessed extra magical abilities, ones which directly combated 'evil'. This could potentially have the effect of burning away that blackened blood without further harming the one it came from. "I cannot let you harm anyone and as you are, you are in no position to help anyone else... maybe next time you can manage it. Or you can tell me and I can carry it for you," Artoria stated. She was rather obviously coming to the decision that this one would need to die, but she'd rather give him a painless and fearless death if she could manage it.

It was no lie that life could be terrifying, nor was that the whole truth. Life was terrifying. Everything was terrifying. In the state Avenger was in, he saw no positives in the world. Nothing that happened was anything but frightening. This Saber was also frightening. Trying was not something he had a mind to do, nor was refraining from trying. Why couldn't he and everyone else just die, and let their forms answer to some mysterious puppeteer. His blood did that for him, and that was something... almost comforting. "No, no harm. Only help. Help everyone, end everything. Grail. Grail will help stop everything scary," he rambled. Those black blood spikes were not cleaved through by the Saber's blade, but the burst sent forth to knock him back did manage to space the spikes around it. Still, they extended further. Even while Avenger himself was being thrown back, his blood was still working. Now was the time his skin wrapping would become involved by stretching outward and latching onto wall and rubble at multiple points. Avenger's body would be steeled, his blood javelins would angle themselves inward and assault Saber from above and each side, and further still... his hands would meet at the palms. This woman was without understanding; she required enlightenment. Nothing could exist without madness, so of course it would be his duty to focus on the insanity deep within her soul. There was no such thing as fearlessness. Somewhere, there was something that resonated with Avenger's madness, and his own sense of dread would continue calling to it directly.

Meanwhile, there was yet another entity appearing within the Holy Grail's bounded field. The Grail itself was being moved just slightly, displaced from the altar it rested upon to make room for... well, the King of Heroes' backside. He'd been watching this war all along, choosing these final moments to gaze upon Artoria's escapades with his own eyes. In doing so, King Gilgamesh thought to keep a firm grip on the cup she laid such certain claim to.

Help everyone, end everything. Those things did not compute. In Artoria's mind the end of everything would not be helpful to anyone. The only way one could justify such a thing would be seeing the world as so bad it needed to start over. She didn't know what this man had been through in his life to make him think such a thing was necessary but she wanted more than anything to give him peace. "You can not stop everything scary. You can only face the things that scare you... and give others the solace you do not have," Artoria said these words and meant them expressly. She probably wasn't the one to give advice. In fact, most people would say the Queen of Knights was inhuman in the way she addressed her own emotions overall. How did she address them? Well, we were soon to see.

As Avenger continued on, his black blood was disrupted but not properly stopped. That being said, she could note the effect of her magical outpouring on this aspect of his body. If he couldn't be reasoned with, he needed to be put down. "Holy Queen." The magical outpouring from her own body was one which could keep the black blood at bay even while she decided her course of action. There was only one way really, one victory she saw here and now. And just now he was deciding to reach for the things Artoria feared. She was unafraid of death, unafraid of life and for the most part unafraid of any given situation. Though a decade ago, she'd been given a fear she hadn't had before. One related directly to being a girl in a world of men, betrayed by one who should have been trustworthy. Artoria's hidden fear was fairly obvious, she feared for her virtues, of becoming something broken and shaken. And for just a moment, it would seem to stop her, as her hand on the hilt of her sword seemed to loosen for just a second. But... even while deathly afraid the Queen of Knights was resolute. If she feared for her body, she'd kill what made her fear. When fight or flight were the only options, she'd fight because that would give her solace. Her grip firmed, her breath exhaled and both hands met the hilt of her sword. Fire burned behind her gaze as fear, gave way to anger but just beneath that, the standard was pity. This poor thing was weaponizing emotions but he happened to choose someone who was emotionally unavailable. There wasn't enough depth to Artoria's emotions to fully wrestle one specific one out of her body. Perhaps if anger had been it, he might have managed to stop her here and now. But instead the sword rose in the sky and the light of it gathered, bolstered by her own magic and her newest skill, Holy Queen. Right that light, the light that could turn away evil, would not be in use alone. Hopes and dreams gathered in the blade of her sword as well, all the while she was waiting to crash it down as this creature made itself a rather easy target. Well, the best thing to combat fear was hope, she'd always spoken of hope and vigilance, here she was making it obvious that it was actually her stance.

"EX-" She started once more. There was only one thing she ever said in the face of things she feared. "CALIBUR!!!" A downward slash finally occurred a mix of hopes and dreams and holy light. She aimed to shatter everything this creature was and give him a death that could give him new life. If this one was so fearful so dangerous to him, maybe the next one could be better? She could try for his sake. The walls he pinned himself to would crumble beneath the weight of such a slash and even the barrier around the grail itself was in danger of breaking by virtue of this power. Still, Artoria couldn't let this being's fear infect anyone else.

Lies. He could stop everything that caused fear. If fear could somehow not be eliminated, the only answer was for everything to choose death. If everyone understood the truth of fear, no one would resign themselves to an eternity of it for very long. Even Avenger himself lived only because... well, some would say he was too afraid to even die. As long as there was blood in his veins, he would live in this life. Previously, life was lost to him only when his heart could no longer beat... and even that was changed when new blood flowed black through his arteries.

Something about the Saber's assault was... triggering, in a way. The aura which aimed to halt his blood spikes did accomplish such, but in a very strange manner that almost seemed to enrage his blood. Worse yet was her reaction to the first fear brought forth. There were more terrors within, he was sure of it. Even so, the transition to fury in the face of fear was... infuriating. "You condemn me?" Avenger questioned. The holy light emanating from Saber's weapon was offensive to the mind of Avenger. Once more, he would be assaulted by some notion of divinity? He was once a normal child. He'd done no harm to anyone, but was subjected to torment and labeled an evil god for the salvation of others. Now, he faced something similar. Avenger was no evil individual by nature; he could even be considered akin to a messiah in the proper light. Not in this light, sadly. Regardless, those clasped hands of his produced a red and black barrier resembling the three eyes painted on the skin covering his face. Even as his hold on wall and rubble was loosed, he levitated in place against the light of Excalibur.

The beam unleashed by Saber met Avenger's barrier, its holy aspect acting to actually strengthen his power. Such was the nature of his status as Avenger. Once deemed evil by opposing forces, he only became more of the god he was purported to be long ago. A second barrier appeared behind the first, and the first subsequently shattered into hundreds of large shards. Each of said shards were angled toward Saber and launched against the beam now pushing against the replacement defense. "I. Hate you." Avenger's statements would only become more broken as his mind became the same. Those barrier shards continued through Excalibur's light with intentions of lacerating Saber from head to toe. Sadly, those behind her would be naturally unaffected... but they could surely sacrifice themselves just as he was sacrificed, no? Certainly, that would be the outcome once he ended the oppression of Saber.

All the while, King Gilgamesh continued to watch. Blinding as this little struggle ahead of him was, he did not look away. No, from here, he could see the silhouette of one Artoria Pendragon from behind. She was so perfectly placed between Excalibur's light and himself, this altar he sat upon was the perfect place from which to view her majesty. He sat there swirling the Grail's content, seeming infinitely entertained while musing to none other than himself. "Go forth, my precious queen. One must walk through hell to reach the heavens. In hell, one often finds those who should never have entered the embrace of Kur─ stains on the floor who must be swept away by far less conventional methods than even the finest broom."

Artoria was faced with a strange thing in this moment. According to the man she now fought, she was condemning him. Was that really how he saw it? The Queen of Knights was nothing, if not fair and just. She was not condemning this man, she did not know him. She only knew in a moment like this that his suffering was well beyond anything it should have been. Human life was difficult and coping with difficulties was the hardest part of being human. "No. I do not condemn you... I condemn those who made you feel this was your only option," she said honestly. In the same way she fought against those who caused her to fear for her virtues she felt anger for this man and his rather disgusting condition. No one was like this of their own accord, and if such a thing was what was chosen by him, he'd have no reason to fear it. No, fear was born of misunderstanding. And in his case, his fear seemed directly connected to whatever he was, not that she understood it completely.

A barrier broke but still it pushed against the light so it was all Artoria could do to hold it up. She'd given away her defense for a while, protecting those who could not look after themselves in the face of this fear. Well, that was her duty, her honor as a Knight. If she couldn't muster the strength to move forward in the face of such an assault, she could hardly call herself Queen, much less, Knight. So what would she do? That light pure as it was would be going nowhere, but she hardly intended to let herself be completely worn down again. In moments like this she gained clarity on actions which led her to victory and in this case, her steps said move forward. In previous times, she taken deaths unto herself for the sake of sparing others the guilt of such actions. She was the Queen of Camelot and she was not a revenge killer. She killed because it was just and right and today would be the same as any other day. Those shards that came before her, might be capable of moving through to hit her person. Her armor could protect her some, she'd gain quite a few lacerations regardless. They didn't matter. As she took up a single path the only one she could take, she stepped towards that creature, the light of her blade sharpening to a point with enough force to shatter barriers, break fortresses and break skin. If she couldn't kill him with magic from a distance, she'd close in upon him, and kill him with a blade, facing him every step of the way. Each step taking her closer and closer until she aimed to sink that shining blade directly into his person. He hated her? "It is fine to hate me. I accept this from you with honor. Go in peace towards the hope you were not allowed and I will do everything in my power to make sure none know your fear again," Artoria could be hated by any man she killed. Artoria could be hated by everyone if it meant happiness for those she cared about. Artoria had chosen to bear such a weight long before now even to her own detriment, so she'd aim to ram her sword into the heart of this man, drain and cleanse that black blood of his and send him away from the world that poisoned his life with nothing but fear. No one deserved to live like that at all.

How hatred could be simply accepted, was a mystery. There was only one thing Avenger hated, and it was the aspect of fear itself. No... Perhaps that wasn't fully the case either. One could say he was actually afraid of fear, but being delivered something else that could function alongside it. No matter; there was a clear path to take as determined by Avenger's own body. This Saber was to be slain not as a villainous individual, but as a mercy to fears she'd yet to even realize. All would die to avoid the terrors of the world; some would merely be relieved earlier than the others. All Avenger needed was the Holy Grail.

In spite of lacerations received by the jettisoned first barrier, Saber moved forward. His second defensive maneuver had gone nowhere still, but the tip of her blade led the charge of her body. Some words were spoken by the woman moments ago... What were they? She condemned those who wronged him? They were not truly to blame, right? He was a sacrifice for the greater good of his people. The thing worth condemning was the fear he felt while succumbing to their tortures, and the hatred he felt for them during that life of pain. That hatred was born of that fear. More fear came of it, simply for the damnation he would suffer for hating his people. Those things, those feelings, should be eliminated. If not wiped out entirely, Avenger thought they should all converge on him, and him alone. Alas, there was but one thing converging upon him this day. Excalibur slammed tip-first against his barrier. His aggression could not be fully pointed at Saber while she took pity on him. When was the last time someone gazed upon this Avenger with anything but contempt? He couldn't remember once.

A fractured emotional state resulted in fluctuating energy output, which itself resulted in a fractured and penetrated barrier. That blade continued moving forward thereafter. Suddenly, its tip was visible on the opposite side of Avenger's torso. He'd been... stabbed? This was far from the first time, but there was mercy on this sword not formerly present on knives and stakes. Avenger was rather confused. He seemed strangely unfazed by even a stabbing through the heart; black blood oozed with no haste at all from either side of the stab wound. "You. You know. Nothing." What he meant would not be specified. Avenger's aura spread once more while that sword rested in his torso, as he feared death even while death's embrace was not yet open for him. Arms that looked feeble rose, strengthened only by Avenger's madness during an effort to squeeze Saber's throat. If nothing else, surely he could suffocate her. . .

Gilgamesh sat atop his altar while wearing a grimace, huffing in a very antsy manner. He could see things happening with perfect clarity now, and he could see several possibilities in the immediate future of Avenger's actions. While those arms rose, the king begrudgingly refrained from accessing a few hundred Divine Portals right then and there. This was not his war to win, but to observe with interest. Still, the current efforts of that damned Avenger were repulsive to him. "Zasshu. I did not give that disfigured cur permission to even think of touching her neck. That nape is for my use alone!" he murmured.

As Avenger decided his course of action, Saber decided another and both would progress towards their varied ends. Artoria couldn't help but pity anyone so full of fear that death of all was their only given response. Even so, even she had fears and even those would come to light as she moved inwards. Multiple lacerations wouldn't stop her. Her own blood dripping down her exposed face and neck wouldn't stop her. What would actually stop Artoria Pendragon from moving forward? Nothing.

Well that wasn't entirely the case. She had stopped because her sword had found its home. Excalibur within the chest of a man turned creature, seemed to start the process she wished to see through, but it was likely to be quite ardrous. In the meantime, he was still speaking. She knew nothing. "That is a fair summary. I do not know what you do... I can only sympathize," she offered. "And give mercy where I see fit," she finished that. Ah, but he was reaching for her now. And what did he aim to do? Close hands around her neck and choke her while exuding that madness of his. Well, it wasn't like she could let go of her sword, so... she would remain here until the job was finished. Still this one induced fear, with his very existence but it was quite different. Her sword was lodged in his torso, and black blood was oozing from him. Where he found the strength to keep attacking she didn't know but she normally could commend it. Instead of that though, she was faced with something entirely different.

The truth of Artoria's fears, were nothing as simple as those moments in her bedroom a decade prior. Fear for herself was something she only felt in singular moments, before they were eliminated. They weren't lasting. Instead, what she truly feared, what kept her from peace in the truest sense of the word was... family. Though the Queen of Knights was a responsible individual, shouldering the hopes and dreams of the entire world all the time. Most of the time, she was busy with something else entirely. She feared her family in the simplest terms, and failing them in an unrecoverable way. Not simply failure, but failure to give them the happiness she wanted for them. A failure to provide safety, life and happiness was something that bothered her deeply. It was true she was selfless enough not to care if she died, but if she did not manage to do something as simple as keep her siblings safe, make them happy and let them truly live before then. If she didn't see the smiles on faces so very different but so very similar to her own... how could she actually live with herself or even die in peace? For a moment that stretched on like eternity all stopped around the life of Artoria Pendragon, or more accurately Hoshimi Eri. For even just a few moments one might have thought her one to lose this battle, because what was her honor in the face of a failure so massive she'd never recover from it? What could she do?

A shining light. Out of the corner of her eye when her vision should have blurred, from the pressure of having one suffocate her, she saw her sword. A glimmer of its blade, even as it flowed with black blood. Right. Hope. Artoria, pushed past the fear of her own failures and rejected the idea that she could not do what she said. Hoshimi Eri could and would do anything for her family and as such, her hopes for them and their future, always overpowered her innate fears surrounding them. There could be bumps along that road, but never while she breathed would she allow those bumps to be anything but minor deterrents. Her hand tightened and her other joined it as she used her physical strength to finish driving it home. For the Avenger this was a mercy and for Artoria it was also a mercy. Perhaps she could not do right by him, but she could at least give him the hope he was so obviously missing. The rage necessary to reject that which could not stand in front of him... maybe that was a good enough lesson for the man who became a sacrifice for others without knowing fully what that meant. "EX-" she choked out before a final exhale. "CALIBUR!" she finished as the light of hope would aim to blast itself through that body. Not just deliverance from evil, but hope for the future. She'd used that to deliver the mercy of bleeding this man dry and saving the world from his depraved salvation. It was all she could offer here and now.