Fate Stay Night - Medea Caster route

*5 years later*

Year 2004. Fuyuki City.

It was morning, and Medea found herself once again lying in her bed, her gaze fixated on the ceiling. Sleep had eluded her once more, and each passing night seemed to bring greater difficulty in finding rest. The exhaustion was taking its toll, both physically and mentally.

As Medea turned her head to glance at the clock, she realized it was nearly 9 o'clock. By now Shirou would have already prepared breakfast, and he was surely waiting for her to join him. However, she couldn't shake off the heaviness that weighed upon her, making even the simplest tasks feel daunting.

After a few minutes of contemplating her situation, Medea mustered the strength to rise from the bed and made her way to the bathroom. Standing before the sink, she met her tired reflection in the mirror, her eyes accentuated by deepening bags that seemed to mirror her weariness. A heavy sigh escaped her lips at the sight.

Medea knew she had to address the issue of her appearance. She understood that Shirou was already excessively concerned about her well-being, and if she continued to neglect herself, his worry would only intensify. She contemplated using her magic to conceal the telltale signs of exhaustion, but deep down, she realized it would be futile. Shirou and the girls would see through any superficial alteration she attempted.

…But she knew that she could do nothing about it no matter what. She did not need any sleep in reality. The cause of the bags was not the lack of sleep.

She shook her head, snapping out of her thoughts, and turned on the tap water, allowing it to flow over her hands. As she began to wash, she applied soap with a newfound vigor, as if trying to cleanse more than just her skin. The sound of running water and splashes echoed through the bathroom, the only audible presence for the next five minutes.

Medea's scowl deepened, her frustration evident as she remained focused on her task. No matter how much she scrubbed, no matter how much water and soap she used, she could never fully wash away the blood that stained her hands.

Sighing, she stopped abruptly, finally coming to her senses, and glanced around the now chaotic sink. Blood and stains adorned every surface, and she had even managed to splatter the walls and the mirror. A wave of guilt washed over her as she realized the mess she had made. Shirou, ever attentive to cleanliness, would surely scold her if he saw what she had done

With the intention of rectifying her mistake, Medea instinctively reached for a cloth to clean up the mess she had created. However, something within her suddenly halted her movements. It was as if an invisible force had frozen her in place, preventing her from addressing the mess before her.

Her eyes darted around the bathroom, searching for the source of this inexplicable interference. A momentary silence enveloped the room, broken only by her own erratic breathing.

It was then that it spoke:

"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"

Medea suddenly froze upon hearing the question, her gaze darting around the empty room. Realizing she was alone, she turned her attention back to the sink, recalling the haunting inquiry. Raising her eyes to meet her own reflection in the mirror, she found herself transfixed by a surreal sight unfolding before her.

On the other side of the mirror, within the depths of a dimly lit room, stood a mysterious hooded woman. Clad in ancient, regal robes, she cradled the lifeless bodies of her slain sons with utmost tenderness. Though the tragedy of her actions was evident, it was the undying love shining in her eyes, just barely visible beneath her hood, that struck Medea most profoundly.

As Medea's gaze met the woman's, it became apparent that their connection was mutual. The woman in the mirror, ever watchful, recognized Medea's presence just as Medea had acknowledged her.

At that, a smile appeared on the woman's face, as she simply dropped the bodies of her children to the ground, so that she could focus her attention entirely on her.

"And look who we have here. It has been a while, hasn't it?" The woman spoke with a satisfied tone.

"..."

Medea remained silent. What could she say? The woman's disregard for her sons had left her speechless.

However, as Medea gazed upon the lifeless bodies the woman had dropped, she finally noticed the other corpses scattered around.

Stretching out behind the woman were numerous lifeless forms.

Remember who you were? And what you did? Remember who they were? And what you did to them? You tried to forget. Didn't you?

Among them, she recognized many familiar faces.

Her brother Absyrtus, torn to pieces. Jason, with a noose tightly around his neck. Glauce and Creont, charred beyond recognition. Pelias, his skin stripped after being boiled alive.

And further back, Saber's corpse lay in a pool of her own blood. Rider, Sakura, and Rin reduced to ash in most of their bodies... and perhaps Shirou, an unidentifiable mess of carnage. Limbs and organs scattered everywhere, a grotesque scene.

It was surreal to see them like this, as she had never witnessed their deaths or laid eyes upon their lifeless forms before.

"Just how many years have passed since we last saw each other? Ten? ...Or was it five, when it all started?"

"...I'm not sure," Medea replied.

"...You look quite... ill," the woman remarked, finally noticing Medea's condition.

"..."

"What happened? Haven't you obtained everything you had ever desired?"

"...I... I did... and yet..."

"It was not enough?" She asked, her smile cunning.

"No... you misunderstand me. It's just that... You see... I've been so tired lately."

"Tired? Of what, exactly?"

Medea opened her mouth to respond, but she lacked the courage to utter the words.

"...Oh well, it is known that good times never last," the other woman nodded. "...It's only you and me left now... and... You have felt it too, haven't you? There is nothing either of us can do about it. And I'm sure you know by now that this won't end well... But that's okay... it was about time."

Medea gazed at the woman, her mind filled with confusion and weariness. She couldn't comprehend the woman's words, and now she felt even more exhausted and disoriented than before.

Her attention shifted to the lifeless bodies lying at the woman's feet. Overwhelmed by pain, she attempted to reach out to them, but her hands encountered an impenetrable barrier—the mirror.

The depth of her longing to hold them, to offer them a proper farewell and mourn their loss, could not be expressed in words. Her dear Phere... her dear Mermerus...

However, the woman on the other side scowled at her actions, offended by the mere thought of someone else touching her children.

"Don't you dare!" she nearly shouted, filled with immense indignation at the idea of another person laying a finger on her offspring.

Fear surged within Medea, causing her to retreat. She knew all too well who the woman was and the extent of her wrath. She had no desire to provoke her, so she had to tread cautiously.

After the outburst, the woman stared at her, bewildered by Medea's reaction.

"What happened?" she asked incredulously. "Is this what you've become? Where is the proud individual I once knew? Where is the person who had the strength to do whatever was necessary, even in the most challenging times? Where is the woman who would confront anyone daring to impede her? When the time comes, try to improve. Let's see if you can survive that ordeal."

"...what are you talking about?"

"You know it quite well. Do not feign ignorance," the woman asserted. "The time has come, my friend, so I think it is time for you to stop pretending."

"...I'm not pretending anything."

"Yes, yes, you are. If you haven't realized it, you've been pretending to be something you've never been."

"...No..." Medea weakly responded after a moment.

"The truth is undeniable, and reality cannot be denied. No matter how much you try to separate yourself from it, it remains unaffected."

"..."

"You can deceive everyone else, but not yourself. You were never a good person. You were never a good teacher... and above all, you were never a good mother..." She uttered, then looked down, kneeling to caress the head of one of her sons that lay on the ground.

"..."

"You know, just like me, that in the end, you cannot change. You will always be a witch."

"..."

Medea's gaze dropped in shame upon hearing the truth. Slowly, she raised her eyes again, only to find herself face to face with the woman, who was now emerging from the mirror.

"You believe that someone must pay for the things you've done. Tell me, who's it going to be?"

Medea abruptly woke up, finding herself once again gazing at the ceiling of her room, but this time it was reality.

Glancing at the clock, she realized it was almost 11 o'clock.

"Oh," she thought, realizing she had overslept. It was a rare occurrence.

She rose from bed, stumbling a little upon her feet. Almost immediately, a scowl formed on her face, and she grumbled to herself.

"Hugh. Gods," she muttered, feeling irritated.

As she stepped onto the floor, the coldness permeated her bare feet. But it wasn't just the floor; the air itself was chilly. Winter was approaching, after all.

Trembling slightly, she slipped on her slippers and housecoat. Still shivering, she made her way to the living room.

"What a strange dream," she mumbled to herself along the way.

In recent years, her dreams had become peculiar, even turning into nightmares. However, this was the first time she had witnessed and conversed with a version of herself. The fact that she had experienced a sense of detachment troubled her—the feeling of being two separate entities. Particularly unsettling was what her other self had said.

Everything felt so strange now. It was different from before. In the past, her dreams would revolve around the days spent with her children or reminisce about happier, simpler times before everything fell apart and ruin came to her.

After walking a certain distance down the hallway, Medea halted and turned her attention to the numerous photos adorning the walls.

One photo captured Shirou tenderly wiping the dirt off Sakura's cheeks after a messy meal. Another displayed Rin and Sakura engaged in a playful board game. Yet another showcased Shirou and Illya sharing a watermelon. And there was a photo of all the children studying together at a shared table.

Then, her gaze shifted to a photo of herself. There she stood, positioned in the center of the picture, wearing a smile while surrounded by the very people whose lives she had shattered and brought ruin to. Shirou, Rin, Sakura, Illya, and even Taiga—all of them wore smiles as well.

As she examined her once joyful expression, Medea was reminded of how much better things had been in the past. For the first time in a long while, perhaps even in her entire life, she had experienced the genuine feeling of being loved, cherished, and valued.

Every morning, she woke up with purpose and determination. Nothing felt futile. She eagerly pursued her goals and enjoyed carefree days spent with those who depended on her. She recalled the contentment she felt, a silly grin adorning her face at the end of each day. Being praised and admired, sought after for advice and wisdom, seeing the adoration in the children's eyes—she hadn't experienced such appreciation for far too long.

But now? All those things that once brought her joy served as painful reminders of the terrible deeds she had committed.

At that moment, she shook her head and continued her path toward the living room. It was undeniable that her pain and guilt had become overwhelming over the past years.

She had led a wretched life. She had been a wretched person.

She had endured immense suffering and inflicted unimaginable pain upon countless innocent lives.

For decades, her sole desire had been to find love and peace, but it always eluded her grasp. Instead, she faced relentless slander and abuse.

In this world, she was an absolute pariah. Abandoned and cast aside by everyone and everything she had once held dear... and rightfully so.

Yet, despite it all, fate had bestowed upon her a glimmer of hope.

Because, at the brink of her endurance, in the twilight of her existence, she bore witness to the tiniest of miracles...

A miracle that justified all those long years of darkness and solitude...

"Good morning, Nee-san," Shirou greeted as Medea opened the door and stepped into the room.

She turned her attention to him.

And there he stood, with a warm smile on his face. Her heart warming at the sight of her beloved red-haired boy in the prime of his youth. He was her hero, her savior, her everything—her Shirou.

"What's wrong, sleepyhead? Still feeling groggy?" Shirou asked, a teasing smile on his face, as Medea stared at him in silence, before he proceeded to prepare breakfast.

Ignoring his playful remark, she made her way to the table and wearily rested her head on it, allowing her heavy eyes to find respite.

Time passed, and even with her eyes closed, she sensed Shirou's gaze upon her. Only moments ago, he had been jovially smiling and joking with her, but now, his expression had turned serious. He carefully observed her, desperately searching for any signs of improvement in her recent condition.

Over the past year, she had let herself go, sinking into a state of depression. However, she didn't want to dwell on those thoughts upon awakening. Instead, she wanted to savor this fleeting moment of peace while enjoying the breakfast Shirou had lovingly prepared.

"You know, if you had slept for another 10 minutes, I would have woken you up," Shirou commented from the kitchen.

"...Really? But you yourself told me I should get more sleep," Medea replied, lifting her head.

"Well, yes, I did. But I can't let you sleep until noon, can I?"

"...Yes… Yes you can. " Medea answered.

Shirou just chuckled softly, amused by her response.

After that, Medea could hear the bustling sounds of Shirou in the kitchen. The clatter of pots and pans, the aroma of coffee brewing, and the sizzling of food filled the room. In a matter of minutes, he emerged with two plates of fried eggs and toast, a light breakfast to tide them over until lunchtime.

Medea couldn't help but notice that once again Shirou had waited most of the morning to have breakfast with her, but she chose not to comment on it. They sat down to eat, and as they did, Medea observed Shirou stealing glances at her every now and then. His eyes held a mixture of emotions and veiled concern, silently conveying his worry.

He appeared burdened with worry, far more than she was comfortable with. It was evident that he wanted to help, yet didn't quite know how. She understood his genuine care for her, and it pained her to see him in such a state. She had no intention of dragging him into the depths of her own self-misery.

Finishing the last bite, she looked at Shirou and spoke up, breaking the silence:

"Sorry if lately I've been such a burden," Medea uttered, her voice filled with remorse.

Shirou ceased eating, his attention fully captured by her words. He lifted his head from his plate and fixed his gaze upon her.

Without revealing his thoughts or emotions, he inquired, "What did you say?"

Medea chose not to repeat herself. In that moment, she realized her choice of words had been wrong, adding to her already mounting distress. She wanted to say something more, but inexplicably, she found herself averting her gaze.

Observing her reaction, Shirou promptly rose from his seat and circumvented the table to approach her. Gently, he cupped her face with both hands, tilting it upward, urging her to meet his eyes. "Hey, what's the matter? Why are you apologizing?"

Medea evaded his gaze and looked away, her discomfort apparent.

"You don't have to apologize for anything, let alone declare yourself a burden. What makes you think that? You can always confide in me, Nee-san. You know that," Shirou assured her, his voice filled with tenderness.

Her voice trembling slightly, Medea responded, "Well... it's just that in the past year, you've taken care of everything... cooking, household chores... while I... I've done nothing."

Shirou placed his hands on his hips, considering her words. "I can understand why you might feel that way to some extent," he admitted. "But that doesn't explain why you've been so… despondent and lacking motivation for much longer..."

A pause lingered between them as Medea summoned the courage to respond. "That's the problem, Shirou... I don't know either," she confessed, her words masking the truth.

He scrutinized her for a prolonged moment, aware of her falsehood, and she, in turn, recognized that he saw through her façade.

"...Oh well, no matter, you do not have to worry. You saved me and raised me for the past ten years. If it really bothers you that I'm doing everything, just think of it as me repaying the favor I owe you and thanking you for everything you did for me," Shirou assured her.

She remained silent, feeling utterly empty, saying nothing. She had nothing. She was nothing...

The only reason she continued to exist was that, for some inexplicable reason, ten years ago she had encountered her little hero who had shown her kindness... and then she lost him. The thought shattered her heart once again, as it had countless times before.

At that moment, a bitter phrase crossed her mind: "Those whom the gods love die young." She thought bitterly that he must have been well-loved before returning her focus to Shirou.

Despite knowing his future, she still pondered the negative impact she might have had on him. She was no role model, no teacher, no mother. She was a despicable monster.

But it didn't matter. His life would never be endangered again. She had transformed him into one of the greatest heroes humanity would ever witness. She had witnessed his future with her own eyes, and what a sight it was.

He radiated brighter than a thousand suns. His hands wielded blades unwavering, carrying the promise of restored peace. He stood as an gold adorned wall sent by the gods, untouched by the stains of violence. He was the final beacon of light in this forsaken world.

And he would not veer onto a darker path as 'he' had in the past. By now, he had recognized that war was a perverse and unproductive act, and he abhorred the notion of taking lives or risking his own. However, he had reached a level of maturity where he understood the necessity of certain actions.

He was her greatest success.

She had bestowed upon him unimaginable power and knowledge in this era. It was exactly what he needed, and the only thing she could offer him.

…But compared to Jason, she had given Shirou little to nothing, merely the bare minimum.

To Jason, she had given everything. Her youth and beauty. Her body and mind. Her heart and soul...

What else could she give Shirou that Jason hadn't already claimed? What else could he want or desire from her? What more could he expect? …She had nothing else to offer him...

She loved him, yet she knew that she could never be enough for him... no...

Was it even right to say that she had loved him?

For demigods like her, even a simple moment of passion could be overwhelming. Was she truly honest when she professed her love to him in the past? Or was it merely a fleeting sentiment, or perhaps something darker, resembling obsession?

Nevertheless, she refused to deceive herself any longer. After a life filled with pain and isolation, it was evident that she would easily become attached to the first person who showed her genuine kindness. Like a forsaken animal in need of nurture, she clung to the first individual who cared for her... ironically, similar to how Shirou had become overly attached to her after losing everyone and everything.

Yet, there was no denying her desire for him. She had longed for him, regardless of his appearance and form.

This selfish longing had been concealed beneath a noble cause of repaying the debt she owed him. Ha! Who was she fooling now? It had been a decade, and there was no longer any reason to-

"Hey, with that look, you won't convince me," Shirou said, snapping Medea out of her thoughts.

"...?" Medea refocused her attention on Shirou, her expression filled with confusion. She had drifted off while lost in her own thoughts, and now she had no idea where the conversation was heading.

Shirou gazed at her puzzled expression for a while before letting out a sigh.

"*Sigh* Come here," Shirou said, opening his arms.

Medea observed his gentle expression and noticed the way he looked at her.

...

...

'...Ugh, fine. One little hug won't hurt.'

She thought as she leaned forward.

She surrendered herself to the embrace and relaxed.

She still remembered how Shirou used to deceive her when her depression had just begun.

He understood that she possessed a strong, if not stubborn, character and that she would never allow herself to sink into a pit of despair... or at least, that's what they both believed initially... Whenever he witnessed her sadness, instead of comforting her or inquiring about her troubles, the cunning little fox would timidly approach her. Under the guise of having a nightmare or a flashback of the night of the incident, he would ask her to console him a little. Of course, she always fell for it, and while taking care of him and spending time together, she would typically forget of her own problems and negative thoughts, as she was more concerned about Shirou than herself. And just like it always had, sharing some time with him would bring a smile to her face.

Then, as time passed, she began to notice how often Shirou conveniently seemed to have a bad memory just when her thoughts started to wander into forbidden places, and she realized exactly what he was doing.

When she confronted him and he realized that his charade was exposed, he abandoned all pretenses and directly addressed her recent mood. His directness caught her off guard, but she simply brushed him off and claimed there was nothing to worry about... well, they had seen how that turned out.

Nevertheless, despite her best efforts to keep him at a distance, he persisted in his relentless attempts to uplift her spirits. And whenever she grew weary of resisting him, she would eventually give in and comply with his requests... like now... and she couldn't deny a certain level of satisfaction.

Unfortunately, he wasn't the only problem.

Several minutes passed before the doorbell rang.

Medea released herself from the hug, and Shirou got up to answer the door.

He returned to the room, accompanied by Sakura and Rin.

"Hello," said Rin.

"Hi," said Sakura.

"Hi, girls," said Medea.

And before she realized it, the girls, like a pair of hyenas, had already encircled her.

They began asking about her mood and if she had been feeling better lately, to which she gave simple and brief responses. It was evident that she preferred not to delve into the details of her inner world, choosing instead to maintain a sense of detachment.

But of course, as always, they refused to be discouraged by her bluntness. They swiftly changed the subject and started discussing their days and their latest individual progress in their respective crafts, making sure to acknowledge or mention how it was thanks to her that they had achieved such power.

Once again, their routine had commenced. She was quick to recognize their ploys. They wanted to uplift her spirits. How foolish. Did they truly believe they could do so without her noticing or realizing their intentions? She had practically raised these two girls, and while she had to admit they had grown quite crafty, they did not know her the same way she knew them. But after falling for Shirou's tricks for so long, she felt her pride wounded, so she always maintained her defenses high when it came to those who sought to improve her mood.

Then, as they drew closer to her, Shirou joined their discussion as well.

Suddenly, once again, Medea found herself surrounded by people who not only relied on her but were also grateful and content to have her presence.

Despite who she was...

Despite everything she had done.

After approximately an hour, Shirou returned to the kitchen, mentioning that it was almost time.

Medea glanced at the clock and confirmed that it was indeed nearing lunchtime.

'Now, who shall arrive?' She mused to herself, already aware of the answer.

Less than fifteen minutes later, Taiga showed up.

"Yooo~ everyone, your favorite teacher has arrived!" Taiga exclaimed cheerfully as she entered the room.

"Hi," the girls greeted her.

"Have you come to steal yet another meal from us, Taiga?" Medea asked with an amused expression, turning to face her.

"Of course! Why are you even asking?" Taiga replied, swiftly making her way to the kitchen. "Hmmmm. What a delightful smell!"

"Hi, Taiga," Shirou greeted her.

"What's cooking, good looking?" She asked, leaning her right elbow on the counter and placing her left hand on her hip.

Shirou snorted in reply, and Taiga earned a sterful glance from both Sakura and Rin. They couldn't see the extent of Taiga's grin. Those girls were too easy to make fun of.

"These aren't the kind of things a teacher should be saying to their students..." Shirou remarked, shaking his head with a grin on his face.

"I know, I know. But jokes aside, how are things going?" Taiga inquired, sneakily glancing at Medea. Her expression turned serious while maintaining a jovial tone.

"Fuji-nee, we're doing fine. Thank you for asking," Shirou responded in a relaxed tone, but his serious gaze met Taiga's.

"I see," Taiga quietly acknowledged before turning her attention to Medea.

She had her answer. After that, Taiga began to ponder.

Medea was someone she had known for almost her entire life, and she had grown to admire her alongside Kiritsugu. Their maturity, experiences, and wisdom often served as inspiration for Taiga to become like them.

In fact, it was because of them that she had become a teacher.

Medea's interactions with all the children who often surrounded her were what propelled Taiga towards teaching, and Kiritsugu's extensive knowledge of foreign languages was the subject that intrigued her the most.

When she discussed these ideas with them, they were incredibly supportive, and Medea even started offering advice whenever she could...

...That woman had always shown nothing but kindness to her since they first met.

And now, Taiga felt dismayed to see her in such a state, as she undoubtedly did not deserve to go through whatever was happening to her.

Medea was a good person, after all. She always had been. Taiga had witnessed firsthand all the people Medea had helped over the years.

She still remembered when they first met. After introducing herself and mentioning that she had just moved nearby after losing her previous home in the incident, Medea had kindly asked if she could visit or play with the child she would later bring from time to time, explaining that he had lost all his friends in the fire and that she didn't want him to always be alone. Taiga, of course, agreed.

It always brought a smile to Taiga's face to recall how Medea repaid this favor. Medea enjoyed spoiling her with the food she made, or finding excuses to bring her closer to Kiritsugu and make her spend time with him, knowing that Taiga had a crush on him.

That was something that still made her cringe from sheer embarrassment when she thought about it... But that wasn't what mattered now.

Medea and Shirou were people she cared about. She didn't know why Medea was acting this way, but she could see the negative impact it had on Shirou and the girls.

So, she had to do her best to uplift their spirits, assist them, and be the responsible adult she had always aspired to be.

"I know you wanted to be the one to help her... but don't you think it's time to take her to a doctor?" Taiga whispered after entering the kitchen and positioning herself beside Shirou, pretending to be interested in what he was cooking.

Shirou stood still for a moment, then turned to look at Medea, who was still engrossed in conversation with the girls. Normally, he would have no problem letting an expert take care of someone in need of help. However, for some reason, he felt a selfish desire to be the one to assist Medea and help her overcome whatever was troubling her, just as she had helped him.

Just like how she had saved him from the fire and healed him from his traumas, he wanted to save her from her personal problems, whatever they may be.

But then he sighed and shook his head. His love for her surpassed everything, even his own desires. He would do anything for her sake. Anything, if it was for her...

He longed to be there for her, to support her, and to help her rediscover happiness. He knew it wouldn't be easy, but he was determined to try... but what progress had he made during all this time?

He took a deep breath and focused on what was right.

"...Yes, it may be time," he said with a serious tone. "Her condition is deteriorating, showing no signs of improvement... but I know for certain that she will insist not to bother. I'll have to talk to her and convince her... I'll let you know."

"I trust your judgment, Shirou. If you need help, don't hesitate to reach out to me."

Shirou nodded.

On the other side of the room, despite being engaged in a discussion with the girls, Medea had overheard the conversation between Shirou and Taiga thanks to her acute senses.

'Please, stop it,' she pleaded. 'Why are you being so kind to me? Why?... I got all of you killed... if only you knew...'

She looked at all of them. They were all so cheerful, wanting to bring her happiness.

But none of them were aware, not even Medea, of the guilt that lay within her, ticking away like a time bomb...

"We're leaving now. I should be back before dinner. Take care," Shirou said, while Sakura and Rin waved goodbye from behind him.

"Goodbye. Have fun," Medea replied as she waved back.

The door closed, and she stood there for a minute before turning.

There she was, alone once again.

For years, she had wondered what her punishment would have been like.

But no matter what she imagined or the theories she came up with, she was always left disappointed.

None of them ever came. Alecto, Megaera, or Tisiphone. None of the Erinyes arrived to bring justice upon her.

There was no divine intervention either...

...Nothing at all...

...

...

…

'Oh, the irony,' she thought as she let out a scoff.

She had finally found happiness, and there was no greater force to torment her.

No gods. No human will. No spirit of revenge.

...

It was none other than herself.

Her memories.

Her newfound sense of morality.

And the very people she held dear.

Every day, she had to look into the eyes of all the people she had wronged and got killed, being reminded of their horrible fate...

Every day, she would see either Mermerus or Phere in Shirou's eyes...

Every day, she would see a monster in her own reflection...

"No," she thought as she shook her head.

The day had gone well until now. She could not let her thoughts run rampant and ruin it again.

She decided to go to the kitchen and make a cup of tea for herself to relax. She then went to her bedroom and tried to drink it, but it was a bit too hot for her taste. So she put it on the table to let it cool down.

As she stared at it, waiting for it to turn cooler, she fell into deep thoughts.

She began to feel as if hours were passing her by.

The past became more prominent.

The future faded away.

Regrets were piling up…

Her mind always wandered to the past. It always did.

She was a foreigner. An intruder. And yet he had made her feel like a guest.

She still wondered why he did it. To save her, and aid her despite knowing who she was.

And she still wondered why she did that. To use the Grail and save Shirou, despite knowing she would ruin and destroy everything that had been done.

She did not know what possessed her.

After traveling back in time, she had taken the child. And cared for him as best as she could.

Truth to be told, she had struggled sometimes. The memories of Mermerus and Phere were still too strong in her mind... But for every hardship she had suffered, in equal measure, she was blessed.

The memories she had made with Shirou in the past years had been wonderful, something to always cherish... and there was little to nothing that she regretted about.

…

This is what she had been doing in the last year. Reflecting on her past and memories.

Even now, though the Holy Grail War was just a month away, she did not care about it. The end was secure. There was nothing to worry about. She had seen its end...

And so, instead of thinking about the war, she thought about these last years... about what she was not supposed to remember... all of her worst memories unlocked because of that damned Priest five years prior... and those poor children in the basement.

She had claimed Shirou for her own and raised him from childhood as if he had been her own son.

Yes, at that exact moment, in her grief, after losing him, she wanted him back, even as a child.

But where before she simply wished to have him once again, to possess him... then she got him... and... and then she realized that her desire may have changed. Perhaps that was what she wanted all along.

She didn't just long to be with her beloved; she yearned for the semblance of a family, something that fate had cruelly snatched away from her on numerous occasions.

Yet, even after she managed to fulfill this desire, she wrestled with it, deeming it foolish and hypocritical. After all, she was a witch, a murderer, incapable of being a nurturing figure who would only corrupt and distort him.

She was acutely aware that the afflictions plaguing her mind at this stage were depression and nihilism.

Once upon a time, she had been inherently good, but the atrocious acts she had committed left her bereft of words to describe the self-loathing she experienced. She never doubted for an instant that if anyone were to uncover her deeds, they would despise her just as intensely.

The fear of losing everything once again terrified her more than anything.

Throughout her existence, she relentlessly pursued something greater in life, with the yearning for a family of her own overshadowing all other logical and negative thoughts. She had long abandoned faith in destiny, as it had repeatedly betrayed her, leading to her downfall. Eventually, she realized that relying solely on fate would never satisfy her deep longing for purpose and love. She had to muster her own strength to discover what she truly desired.

And it was during that time she stumbled upon that "something more" in life, something profoundly meaningful.

Shirou, in surpassing all her expectations, became the embodiment of it.

Thoughts of him flooded her mind, especially after she had saved him from the incident.

He had become emotionless and empty, traumatized by the experience. The memories of Shirou looking at her with his blank expression, which she found incredibly endearing, brought a smile to her face. Nostalgia washed over her, and she wished to relive the past decade over and over again, to help Shirou rediscover his emotions and their significance.

But as she pondered on Shirou, her thoughts wandered elsewhere. After saving him, he became empty, but there was another kind of being that was also blank and empty.

As a writer once stated, human beings are born as tabula rasa, blank slates that are shaped by their experiences. An infant, cute, weak, helpless, and devoid of thoughts, lacking in life's experiences, fitted that description perfectly.

Flashes of a distant past appeared in her mind, and suddenly her children were safely in her arms, looking up to her and playing with her hair and ears with their tiny hands… those same hands that she had dreamed would take care of her in her elder days, and eventually lay her to rest…

Her smile faded, and her mood turned sour.

This constant shift of humor had not been healthy either…

…Not that she cared…

…Not that anyone would…

Shirou, along with Sakura and Rin, were now walking toward their destination.

While walking, Shirou held one of the most precious gifts that Medea had ever bestowed upon him close to his chest. It was a powerful and cherished object, created together by the two of them.

As he grasped it, he pondered how much she had given him and how much she had taught him. The very item he held exemplified her teachings.

Medea had imparted her knowledge to him, including the art of crafting similar objects to the one he had that could manipulate fate and casualty to his advantage—essentially, effective lucky charms.

He had come to realize that mages often underestimated the true strength of such items in the right circumstances.

But despite all she had done for him... what had he done in return? How could he convey to her that he was willing to do anything for her?

Surely, she knew of his admiration for her since their first encounter, when he had lost his memory. However, he doubted whether she fully comprehended the depth of his admiration... he would find contentment even if he could merely breathe in the same manner as her...

"You know, Shirou senpai, I don't like it when you get so lost in your thoughts," Sakura commented, bringing Shirou back to reality.

Shirou sighed, feeling the need to address the "senpai" Sakura used. It seemed unnecessary considering their long history together since childhood.

But that wasn't the most pressing matter at hand.

"I know... but..."

"...Is it about Medea?"

"...Yes, it is," Shirou replied. "Taiga mentioned something earlier that got me thinking... and I think she might be right. It's time I take her somewhere... to see a doctor..."

"...Oh," Rin said, surprised.

Both Rin and Sakura wore solemn expressions, and a heavy silence hung in the air.

"...Do you really think it's necessary?"

"...Is the situation that dire?"

Sakura and Rin asked in succession after some time.

It wasn't that they were opposed to Medea seeking help. Rather, it felt surreal for them to witness the person who had taught them everything about magic and had been a second mother figure in their lives reach such a low point…

And it felt strange to see Shirou "giving up," considering his character.

Could the situation truly be this bleak? …Could It?

Hearing their questions made Shirou's thoughts drift to a few weeks prior. He was aware that Medea's sleep had been disturbed, ranging from periods of restlessness to nightmares. Sometimes, he would find her in a state of sweat-soaked restlessness when he went to wake her up. However, one particular incident remained vivid in his mind.

On that afternoon, he entered Medea's room to check on her after not hearing or seeing her for a few hours. To his surprise, he found her asleep in her armchair. Initially planning to leave, he noticed that her blanket had almost slipped off. Silently, he approached to fix it but froze when he caught sight of her expression.

She was smiling in her sleep.

It had been nearly a year since he had seen her smile, and he stood there, motionless, overcome with surprise. As he observed her peaceful and happy slumber, he naively hoped that it signified a positive change, perhaps an improvement in her dreams.

While he drew closer to adjust the blanket, he noticed that she was murmuring in her serene sleep. Straining his hearing, he couldn't make out the words she uttered, but he could discern that she was mentioning two names.

Having fixed the blanket, he left the room. As he was stepping out and about to close the door, the wooden floor beneath him let out a loud crack, startling Medea awake. Shirou was prepared to apologize for waking her up, but he refrained when he witnessed her reaction upon being roused.

Medea's gasp echoed through the room as she abruptly awoke, her expression marked by visible confusion and alarm. Detecting that something had gone horribly awry, before she could fully emerge from her deep slumber, she glanced between her arms, and he observed her eyes widening in terror as she discovered them empty. Immediately afterward, she began frantically searching around, her movements steeped in panic, as if desperately seeking something she had just misplaced. He could hear her muttering those same things, now in a heightened state of panic. She almost rose from the chair to continue her search but abruptly stopped. Slumping back into the armchair, she appeared suddenly fatigued and gazed into the emptiness for a few moments before examining her arms and hands.

The realization that what she had dreamed was merely a dream slowly dawned upon her. Shirou witnessed tears welling up in her eyes, followed by a fit of anguish. She thrashed her arms and legs, tugged at her hair, and struck the armrest before finally ceasing her violent movements. With her hands covering her face, she began to sob and cry softly.

Shirou remained rooted to the spot, observing the entire scene unfold. Though he was nearly concealed behind the partially open door, had Medea bothered to investigate the source of the disturbance or glance around for any presence nearby, she would have spotted him. However, her attention was completely consumed by another matter.

In that moment, Shirou felt his heart sink into a deep abyss.

…What had Medea dreamed of? …What had evoked such a response from her? …What was he unable to provide to make her happy? …What had she experienced in her dreams that granted her such peaceful slumber?

He felt utterly powerless and useless.

He had attempted to engage her in conversation and make her confide with him. He had done everything in his power to bring her solace. Yet, regardless of his efforts, it all seemed futile.

He longed to go and comfort her, but he knew-

"...Shirou?"

Rin and Sakura gazed at Shirou, their eyes fixed on his expressionless face after he abruptly halted in his tracks. Snapping out of his reverie upon hearing his name, he noticed their scrutinizing gazes.

"Yes. It is necessary," he uttered with a voice devoid of any emotion.

Rin and Sakura narrowed their eyes, sensing that Shirou was withholding something from them. However, they recognized that if he chose not to disclose it, he must have a valid reason.

"...I trust your judgment, Senpai. Perhaps you will need our help or support... or maybe it is better that you spend some time alone with her... a week or two... considering we haven't been... very helpful..." Sakura spoke, bitterness tainting her words.

"...And I... no, we're sorry that we couldn't assist you as much as needed..." Rin added, her voice filled with sadness.

"No need to apologize or blame yourselves. I know both of you have done your best to help us for a long time... and I can't thank you enough..."

Shirou and Rin exchanged a glance, while Sakura kept her gaze fixed on the ground.

Sakura felt mortified.

Medea had saved her, and Shirou had saved her too... yet she found herself unable to help them. Even though they weren't her biological family, the peace and happiness they had brought into her life after rescuing her from the Matou household were unforgettable. She felt compelled to assist them, but her efforts proved futile.

Words failed to capture the extent of the help they had provided her since their initial encounter.

The initial unease she had felt upon moving in with them had carved a unique niche in her heart. She would always treasure those memories she had forged in that home and share a good chuckle over them.

And the mere thought of Shirou, it set her heart racing.

She acknowledged that Medea was the one who saved her, but she couldn't help but to think that Shirou had been the one who helped her the most.

During those days, she had been an introverted child, fearful of everything and everyone, including, and perhaps especially, Medea, the individual who had saved her from her abusive family. Initially, for some inexplicable reason, she had regarded Medea as wicked as Matou Zouken, if not worse.

On the other hand, Shirou felt different to her. She sensed it. They were kindred spirits. She could see and feel that he carried just as much pain as her, but he didn't allow his past to burden him.

Nevertheless, she remained a traumatized child, and her irrational fear convinced her that at any moment, they would subject her to abuse and insults, plunging her back into the same hellish existence. However, Shirou—no, he had been different. He occupied a special place in her heart.

The first time he hugged her had become an indelible memory. The reassurance she felt from that simple gesture and his words was difficult to put into words. The sense of longing and affection he evoked filled a void she had carried since being separated from her biological family.

She sensed his unconditional care and concern for her in that simple act, despite her being essentially a stranger to him. To this day, she had never expressed her gratitude, as it somewhat embarrassed her.

But now, her own feelings for him took a backseat. She needed to help and support him in any way she could. The question was, what could she do FOR MEDEA?

Her mother had endured a similar state for a much longer period, yet Sakura had never truly learned how to support her. Her mother appreciated and treasured every little thing Sakura did for her, always insisting she was fine. Sakura understood why her mother acted this way; she still bore an overwhelming sense of guilt for what had happened to her, and Sakura was certain she would never forgive herself. It didn't surprise her that her mother simply relished not being hated by her and found great joy in her daughter's care. But because of this dynamic, Sakura had never been able to figure out how to help her mother.

This same dilemma left her feeling lost in her efforts to assist Medea and Shirou in their current situation.

Sakura appeared deep in thought, while Rin's expression revealed that she partly understood what Shirou was going through.

Shirou and Rin had always been good friends, and over the years, they had grown even closer. From the moment they first met, they collaborated over their shared passion for magic and their desire to protect and help Sakura to fully overcome her traumas.

Rin had long recognized that Shirou shared certain similarities with her sister. She had learned that he had been involved in the incident and had witnessed traumatising things at a young age. He carried his own burdens and traumas, yet his character, determination, and dedication to helping Sakura heal were qualities that Rin both envied and admired.

Still, despite her admiration, Rin experienced a complex mix of envy and resentment towards him. Ten years earlier, Shirou had been among the people who had rescued her sister from the Matou family and aided in her recovery from the abuse. During that time, she had already resigned herself to never seeing her sister as family again, following Tokiomi's wishes. As if that wasn't enough, she also had to care for her mentally damaged mother, who had been entangled in Tokiomi's war.

She had always believed it should have been her duty to save and heal her sister as the eldest sibling. That responsibility should have fallen to her. Still, considering that Medea and Shirou were the ones to help her, it didn't come as a surprise to Rin that Sakura had begun to look up to them instead of her, her elder sister, or their mother. She never blamed Sakura for this shift in admiration. Instead, Rin aimed to better herself and become more like Medea and Shirou, hoping that one day her sister would also look up to her.

This desire to improve herself and gain Sakura's admiration was why Rin had started spending so much time with Medea and Shirou, even when Sakura wasn't around. Over time, her friendships with both of them deepened, and they got to know each other well.

As time passed, Rin began to understand why Sakura felt the way she did about Shirou. Her resentment toward him gradually dissipated, and the thought of Sakura and Shirou spending time together became less and less bothersome. In fact, she reached a point of comfort with Shirou where, one day, in a moment of vulnerability, Rin decided to share her secret with him. She explained why she felt so protective of Sakura, why she felt guilty for failing her, and why she envied him. She even admitted her selfish reasons for spending so much time with him.

Shirou listened attentively, allowing her to speak at her own pace without pressuring her. After hearing everything she had to say, he didn't judge her. Instead, he understood her and offered to lend a hand in ensuring that Sakura would look up to her in the future. He also let her know that he would be there to listen if Rin ever felt ready to confide in him again about her family's past—a gesture for which she was very grateful.

However, she knew deep down that she would never take him up on that offer.

As Rin grew older, she couldn't help but notice the inconsistencies and lies that seemed to surround her family's history. These discrepancies gnawed at her until she couldn't bear it any longer. She knew there was a hidden truth that needed to be uncovered, and she resolved to find it.

Rin vividly remembered the night she confronted her mother, despite the desperate pleas and cries to spare herself from the painful knowledge. How could she turn a blind eye when it was her fault that Sakura had endured such suffering? She felt it was her responsibility to uncover the truth. So, with unwavering determination, she pressured her mother until she revealed the grim reality.

After all the harm she had inadvertently caused her daughters, Aoi found herself without the strength to deny them anything, not even once. It was under this heavy burden of guilt that she finally mustered the courage to reveal the truth.

The revelation shattered her world, and Rin began to connect the dots, understanding the disturbing secrets that had plagued her family for so long. It all fell into place, from the memory modifications her sister had endured to the true horrors she had been subjected to, as her mother spared no details.

From that day onward, just thinking of her sister always sobered Rin, serving as a constant reminder of why she had chosen the path she had.

She missed the carefree days of her childhood, but now she bore the weight of responsibilities and duties thrust upon her by Tokiomi's decisions, as he had chosen to uphold the magus tradition even at the cost of their family's well-being.

She would never forget the day she pleaded with Medea to teach her magecraft, discarding all the teachings of the man she once called father, just as he had discarded her sister when she was no longer of use to him.

After all, why bother with such rudimentary forms of magecraft when Medea offered mysteries far surpassing anything in the present age?

In this aspect, Rin resembled her father. She believed in discarding the unnecessary. That was the only true lesson she had learned from him. She found it ironic and somewhat amusing whenever she contemplated it. Just as her father had cast away her sister, she would cast away all his life's work. She wouldn't take pleasure in destroying and tarnishing his legacy, but she would relish in seeing it lost and forgotten entirely.

And Rin would forever remember the day when Medea bestowed upon her the first mystic code. It was a light and elegant necklace, reminiscent of the one Tokiomi had left to her in his will, a fact she would never come to know. And compared to the one Tokiomi had left, this necklace held not only superior quality and power but also a profound sense of responsibility for Rin.

The weight of being the Tohsaka heir bore down on her shoulders, a responsibility to make amends for the foolish mistakes of her predecessor—a legacy that had harmed her sister and perpetuated the ongoing war. With this mystic code, Rin carried the burden of ensuring that history wouldn't repeat itself, all the while completely unaware of its true origins and porpuse.

But that could wait. Right now, she had to assist Shirou and help Medea.

Both Sakura and Rin felt immense gratitude towards Medea. She had been like a second mother, doing so much for them over the past ten years. Sakura was particularly grateful that Medea had saved her, while Rin was grateful that Sakura had been saved by her. Not to mention that Medea had also rescued their mother from a severe mental state.

They were indebted to Medea in more ways than one. However, what concerned them the most was her appearance. She was starting to resemble their mother, if not in an even worse state.

They understood why their mother was trapped in perpetual depression, especially Rin, who held knowledge of nearly every aspect of their family's history. But when it came to Medea, they were completely in the dark. They had no clue about her inner struggles.

And it was for this reason that they also felt deeply sorry for Shirou. Not only did he have to witness the person who had saved and raised him turn in such a state, but unlike them, he couldn't rely on anyone else when there was no one around. While the two of them could always support each other in taking care of their mother, Shirou had only himself to depend on. They did their best to help and asked how they could assist him when they were present, but they couldn't be there for him all the time.

They had observed the growing distance between Medea and everyone else, despite their efforts.

Once Medea had been the person everyone looked up to—kind yet strict. She had guided them along the right path for the past ten years. But now, the very person everyone admired was sinking into a pit of self-misery and sorrow, and they had no idea how to help her…

While Sakura and Rin were lost in deep contemplation, Shirou's mind was also occupied with thoughts.

Just the reminder of that afternoon caused Shirou to relive, for the umpteenth time, the night of the incident. The memory rushed back as it always did, etched deeply in his mind. He would never forget that fateful night.

There he was, a mere child of seven, on the brink of death beneath the weight of rubble in a world that resembled hell itself. Abandoned, neglected, and unloved, he was left to suffer in silence.

Until she found him.

She saved him. She not only rescued him from that perilous situation but also provided him with everything he needed: food, clothing, shelter, education, love, and a home. She gave his life purpose, and he was forever grateful to her.

But then he thought about her expression. Ten years ago, amidst the chaos and destruction, he saw the sadness and despair on her face after she saved him. And now, a decade later, that sadness had returned with even greater intensity.

The thought infuriated him, and he clenched his fists in frustration. He couldn't bear it. The melancholy had to fade, and he longed to see her smile once more. Yet no matter what he attempted, that sorrow remained, growing deeper with each passing day.

Then, the dreadful and irrational imposition once again came to his mind. Could it be that what was happening to her was his fault? Had he failed her somehow? When? And why hadn't she said anything?

That thought almost made him panic, and he was lost in his own worries when Sakura began to speak.

"Anyway, Senpai, after we're done with that school project..." Sakura started to ask.

"What is it?" he asked, turning to his left.

"-Would you like to come with us to the shopping center?" Rin interjected, noticing Sakura's hesitation and grabbing Shirou's attention, causing him to turn to his right to look at Rin.

"Thank you," Sakura mouthed quickly to Rin before speaking again. "A-and we thought that you could buy her a present and that we could help you with it. It's the least that we can do to help you."

Rin almost rolled her eyes at that. Yes, she loved her sister with all her heart, but when would she grow up? If Sakura couldn't even invite a doof like Shirou to help him out without stuttering, how would she handle things by herself in the future?

"Oh, that's not a bad idea," Shirou thought aloud.

It was something he could do... but what did Medea like?

He turned to Rin and Sakura. He would need their advice. Together, they could surely find something that would make her feel better. After all, Medea loved cute things, but she also had a fondness for figurine collections…

It was now late afternoon, and Medea was still her room, her head weighed down upon the table. The cup of tea beside her had long turned cold, abandoned in the midst of her troubled thoughts. She was fixated on a letter she had rediscovered earlier while searching for a distraction, when her hands rummaged through the drawers of her table, eventually coming across that letter.

It was the last letter Illya had written, delivering the sorrowful news of Kiritsugu's recent passing.

Kiritsugu had died about a month prior, and the memory of their last visit to him still lingered in Medea's mind.

She vividly remembered the last time she and Shirou had visited him. They were aware of his deteriorating condition and his confinement to the castle. It had been a while since they had last seen Kiritsugu, but Illya made sure to visit them from time to time.

However, the reality they encountered was far worse than what they had anticipated. As Medea and Shirou arrived at the castle, an eerie silence enveloped the already isolated surroundings of the castle. They cautiously made their way to the master bedroom, where Kiritsugu resided, only to be greeted by a scene that could be described as macabre.

The room was dimly lit, with heavy curtains drawn shut, blocking out the sunlight. The air was thick with the smell of illness and decay. Medea and Shirou entered quietly, their footsteps barely making a sound on the carpeted floor.

Illya sat by her father's bedside, her grip tightly holding what remained of Kiritsugu's left hand. Her youthful face was contorted with grief.

When Kiritsugu had passed away in front of Shirou, he could still be recognized as a man. But now, he was nothing more than an empty shell, devoid of the essence of the person he once was.

The state of his condition could only be likened to that of a mummified corpse. Every aspect of his being had withered away and perished. It felt as if his very life force was being drained from him, slowly and mercilessly.

Upon their arrival, Illya wasted no time in asking Medea to assess her father's condition and speculate on how much time he had left. Medea obliged, but after a thorough examination, she could not provide Illya with an exact estimate, for he should have long since departed from this world.

The memories of his symptoms were not all clear to Medea, but she distinctly remembered being profoundly shocked by the fact that he was still clinging to life. His cellular structure had been ravaged beyond repair. His muscular system had wasted away, succumbing to atrophy. His skeletal system had been plagued by Osteopetrosis, Osteoporosis, and Osteonecrosis. All his limbs had turned a sickening shade of black, devoured by necrosis. The bone marrow had perished. The immune system had failed. Internal organs had shut down. Soft tissues, like his eyes, had withered and decomposed. Some arteries and veins had ruptured open, spilling their contents.

By all means, he should have succumbed to death. Yet, something inexplicable was keeping him alive, prolonging his agonizing suffering.

Medea then realized that while performing the surgery that had allowed Kiritsugu to regain his former strength and prolonged his life for a few more years, it had also exacerbated the effects of the curse that would have otherwise claimed him. The extended exposure to the curse seemed to have worsened his condition as a result.

In a cruel twist, it appeared that while the curse continued to ravage his body, it was also the very thing that had kept him alive during the past months. It was as if the curse harbored a consciousness of its own, purposefully prolonging his suffering until his inevitable end, perhaps as an ironic punishment for living far beyond what he should have.

However, the most harrowing aspect of Kiritsugu's condition lay in the impact it had on his mind. By that point, he had become a fragmented and incoherent mess, at best muttering incomprehensibly, and at worst, emitting disturbing whispers that could be interpreted as cries. As even his vocal cords had suffered significant damage and atrophy.

Prior to entering the room, Medea had learned from one of the maids that Illya rarely left her father's side, spending the majority of her time with him during his fleeting moments of lucidity. She knew time was running short, and she refused to leave him alone even for a second. In her heart, she hoped that amidst his deteriorating state, Kiritsugu was still aware of Illya's unwavering presence, knowing that she had never abandoned him.

As Medea conversed with Illya, catching up on the events they had both experienced, a casual question arose: Did Illya want Medea to euthanize her father, sparing them both from further suffering?

However, after a prolonged moment, Illya revealed that she and her father had already discussed such matters when he was still able to communicate. Kiritsugu had explicitly requested that Illya refrain from interfering with whatever fate awaited him, believing it to be a deserved consequence for his actions throughout his life.

Upon hearing this revelation, Medea studied Illya's expression, glimpsing the inner struggle that waged within the young girl—her conflicting emotions toward her father and his wishes. Whereas Medea had previously doubted Illya's knowledge of her father's past, she now realized that the girl had come to understand some of the deeds he had committed and the motivations behind them. It left Illya torn, unsure of what course of action to take. Her father was not a good person by any means, but Illya loved him nonetheless, and wished to spare him from further suffering, even while she understood why he wanted to die in such a manner.

During their stay, while conversing with Illya, Medea had occasionally heard Kiritsugu murmuring the names of unfamiliar individuals, beseeching them for forgiveness and pleading for redemption. His prayers and laments echoed with a fervent desire for absolution.

Medea longed for one last conversation with him, but by that point, he had lost his sight and hearing, rendering him unaware of their presence. Even if she employed her magic to briefly restore his ability to communicate, she doubted that his fragmented state of mind would allow for a coherent conversation.

She was certain that until his final moments on this earthly plane, Kiritsugu wept and rambled about the fires of hell...

Picking up the letter that had arrived some weeks earlier, Medea read it once more, its contents etched into her memory.

"Dear Medea and Shirou,

I hope this letter finds the two of you in good health and spirits. It is with immense sadness and a heavy heart that I share the devastating news of the passing of my beloved father, Kiritsugu. I write this letter today to inform you, our dearest family friends, as you have always held a special place in our lives and hearts.

The loss of my father has left me shattered and overwhelmed with grief. I knew that this day would soon come, yet, his departure has created a void that can never be filled. Although the pain I feel is indescribable, I take comfort in the cherished memories we shared and the profound impact he had on my life.

Despite the anguish I am currently enduring, I am resolved to fulfill my promise, my responsibilities, and honor the legacy my father left behind. He taught me the importance of resilience and perseverance, and I am determined to carry forward his teachings and make him proud. In the midst of my mourning, I find strength in the support of loved ones like you, whose presence and compassion have been a source of great comfort during these trying times.

Please know that I will be reaching out soon to arrange our visit with you and your family. Being surrounded by dear friends who have known my father so well will undoubtedly provide solace and a sense of normalcy amidst the turmoil. Your friendship and unwavering support are precious to me, and I am grateful beyond words for your presence in my life.

Once again, I thank you for your love, understanding, and unwavering support during this difficult time. I look forward to seeing you soon and finding solace in your presence.

With deepest gratitude,

Illya."

After reading the letter, Medea's thoughts turned to Illya. As time passed, the child had flourished into an exquisite young woman, adopting an uncanny resemblance to her mother, a point often noted by Kiritsugu. Alongside this development, she had become a skilled and powerful mage.

Influenced by both her father and herself, Illya had developed a disdain for the modern mage society and its doctrines. She despised their traditions and their disregard for the value of human life.

Illya was the first to truly grasp the brutal truth of being brought into the world as a mere instrument, fated to offer one's life for the progression of the family trade or to accomplish its objectives. This very circumstance was what caused her mother's premature demise during an ultimately futile war, a tragic episode of mindless bloodshed.

Though for the most part Illya was an affectionate and loving individual, both Medea and Kiritsugu had noticed a darker side dwelling within her. It was a side that exhibited pettiness and cruelty beyond their expectations. Nothing of grave concern, but there had been instances when Medea couldn't help but to do a double take when overhearing Illya's muttered remarks during training about beheading her enemies and engaging in further desecration.

And thinking about another can of worms that she had yet to address, Medea frowned whenever she read the portion of the letter where Illya spoke about carrying on her father's legacy.

When Illya would come to Fuyuki, Medea intended to have a long conversation with her, ensuring that Kiritsugu had not instilled in her any idea about becoming a "Hero of Justice." She refused to allow the girl she had essentially raised to throw her life away, becoming another fanatical and reckless individual roaming the world.

"Ah, that man..." Medea thought with a sigh.

When Kiritsugu was still alive and able to accompany Illya during their visits, Medea made sure to convey her concerns or issue warnings, emphasizing that she would become greatly angered if Kiritsugu said anything to lead Illya down the same path he had taken. She vividly remembered his emotionless expression, assuring her that she had nothing to worry about.

"...that stupid... stupid man…"

To Medea, Kiritsugu had been an ally. She never considered him a friend, but he was someone she could somewhat relate to.

…And now he was gone too.

"...What did he do this time?"

She didn't know how to feel. The sensation of loss was something she would never grow accustomed to, no matter what.

However, she could acknowledge a certain degree of happiness, knowing that he had finally been released from his torments.

Medea then let out a puff of air, feeling bored and uncertain of what to do. She didn't want to let her thoughts wander into the realm of loss once again, especially now that it had been brought to the forefront of her mind. She needed to do something substantial, not just distract herself.

With that in mind, she made a decision to look towards the future...

"...Aaagh... But that would require too much energy and effort..." she lazily lamented as she fell to the ground and stretched. She possessed the necessary energy, but the will to take action eluded her.

However, due to her inherent paranoia, Medea always felt compelled to check on the future of the children. After all, the future was not set in stone; it could always change. Yet, for the past two weeks, she had been too tired and unmotivated to do so.

Sharpening her eyes as she built her resolve, she refused to let her mental state triumph over the plans she had meticulously prepared for over a decade. She needed to confirm once again that everything was proceeding according to plan.

Rising to her feet, she glanced around the room and spotted a deck of tarot cards. Seeing them stirred a mix of determination and bitterness within her, as memories flooded back.

During the end of the war, she had predicted Shirou's death. But in her naivety and optimism, she had mistaken the death card as a symbol of change, of Shirou turning his life around, rather than a warning of his ultimate fate.

She picked up the cards and recollected how she had come to possess the deck.

It was a surprise when Rin and Sakura had visited one day, bringing the deck with them. They had asked if she could use the cards to read their futures. Unaware of the full extent of her abilities, they simply regarded her as a mage of greater power than most, oblivious to her divination gift.

Reflecting on that memory, she remembered how she had indulged their curiosity, using the cards to read their futures. Remarkably, the predictions had proven to be quite accurate.

A sly smile crept across her face.

"How fortunate," she thought.

She realized she could save herself the expenditure of energy by swiftly using the card to reaffirm the future of Shirou and the girls.

She approached her table with those card in hand and immediately checked Shirou's future. The cards revealed: The Weel of Fortune, The Magician, and The Moon.

Observing the first card, she felt a surge of pride for the first time in months. Instead of the tower, the fortune card symbolized Shirou's past. It appeared that, despite her own reservations, she had indeed been a positive influence in his life. Fate had deemed him fortunate.

Moving on, her attention turned to the next card, which triggered a sense of recognition. The magician represented his present. It embodied activity, self-determination, and the ability to shape one's own destiny. It signified his role as an initiator, one who takes action and achieves results.

However, her brows furrowed when she laid eyes on his future card: The Moon. Its iconography clearly conveyed a foreboding and dark atmosphere, a harbinger of deception. Without due care and attention, one could easily fall into error. External circumstances would be unfavorable, tempting, and deceitful. Navigating this treacherous terrain would not be easy. The moonlight concealed hidden dangers and pitfalls, posing the risk of being deceived or betrayed. Unfavorable circumstances, disguised enemies, and deceitful individuals lurked in the shadows.

Medea silently contemplated the card before her, mulling over its implications. This was both the strength and weakness of the cards. They had the ability to unveil hidden aspects that even her divination could not forewarn. Yet, their meanings were often open to interpretation, as they held multiple significances that depended on the context.

If one wasn't cautious, misinterpreting the card's message could lead to hasty decisions that inadvertently brought about the very outcome they had hoped to avoid. It was a paradoxical situation where the fear of a predicted event becoming reality led to actions that ultimately made it come true.

...However, who could possibly betray or deceive Shirou?

After pondering the question for a moment, she simply shrugged. Perhaps it was somehow connected to the Holy Grail War. She had already witnessed its conclusion—the defeat of the enemy Masters and Servants, and the destruction of the Grail itself. There was truly nothing to worry about.

Still, she couldn't help but wonder if she could have assisted him further. Apart from training him and imparting all the necessary knowledge, she had a desire to provide him with additional help. This same desire was what had led her to create a magic crest, which she bestowed upon him.

The magic crest contained a sufficient number of circuits, but it didn't house the most potent spells from the Age of the Gods. Instead, it held just one spell that could be utilized even in the modern era, and in Shirou's hands, it could be monstrous: Animate weapons.

Initially, when she contemplated the type of Magic Crest to bestow upon him and its potential power, the idea of using this spell almost crossed her mind without consideration. She believed there was no reason for him to utilize it. Even by current standards, Animate Weapon was not a formidable spell. Its effect was limited to granting life to the chosen weapons, rendering them akin to familiars. And while other familiars served various purposes, the weapons Shirou would summon were restricted to cutting and stabbing, lacking versatility.

However, upon deeper reflection, she experienced a revelation that left her on the brink of perspiration, accompanied by an excited smile. The weapons Shirou would summon were noble Phantasms, but their true value lay elsewhere. Even the mightiest of weapons would prove ineffective in the hands of the inept. In other words, even with the gift of life, their limited intelligence and abilities as ordinary familiars would not make them remarkably dangerous or useful. In fact, they could become a liability if they fell into enemy hands.

No, their true danger lay in the experiences and memories they carried. It was the memories and techniques embedded within them. If Shirou were to cast the spell on one of these weapons, it wouldn't merely grant the Noble Phantasm the ability to swing autonomously within its limited sentience. Instead, it would be as though he had summoned the very owner of the weapon. By breathing life into the weapon, he would revive not just a powerful armament but an embodiment of legend itself. This would unleash a lifetime's worth of combat experience contained within.

It took her years to create it, and every time she worked on it, she couldn't help but wonder how the war would have unfolded if Shirou had possessed this enchantment back then. She envisioned the King of Heroes, not only facing Shirou and Saber, but also being assailed by Gáe Bolg's lightning speed and precision, along with Heracles' mighty ax-sword. Victory would have been assured.

Considering Shirou's future potential, describing him as a monster would be an understatement. With all those weapons by his side, he would never have to face solitude again, as they would protect him from any adversaries.

But that wasn't all. Due to his innate nature and origin, Shirou was a sword both in body and spirit. Utilizing her skill of item creation to its fullest extent, Medea had also implanted 73 artificial magic circuits, generously provided by the Einzberns, into Shirou.

Although his true nature remained somewhat enigmatic to her, it didn't alter the fact that she could employ her skill of item creation on him as if he were an actual sword, an object. Unlike Kiritsugu, Shirou experienced minimal problems or pain after the implementation of the magic circuits and magic, granting him ownership of 100 top-quality magic circuits.

Certainly, she had also assisted him in establishing the foundation for his Reality Marble. However, since each inner world was distinct and unique, aside from aiding in its initial formation, she couldn't contribute to its further development, as that was a task only he could undertake.

Nonetheless, as the war approached and Shirou encountered Archer, witnessing his Reality Marble, he would gain a much deeper understanding and be able to advance his own inner world.

Speaking of Archer... To ensure their encounter would occur without her needing to reveal herself to the other Servants, she had casually shared some information with Rin about the nature of Shirou's magic and its uniqueness, while keeping certain details concealed. Although intrigued by the nature of Shirou's exceptional magic, Rin found the revealed information complex and somewhat confusing, unable to fully comprehend it. However, Medea knew that Rin was intelligent and she believed that Rin would eventually piece together the connection between Shirou and Archer after observing her own Servant's actions.

While contemplating the girls, Medea decided to peer into their futures, hoping to occupy herself for a while longer. After a few minutes, Medea confirmed that Rin, Sakura, and Illya's futures aligned with her predictions. Having completed her task, she found herself with nothing else to do but to ponder once again. However, she realized that dwelling on the past would not be productive and decided to focus on something else instead.

"Let me explore my own future," she thought.

Reflecting on her previous experience of using tarot cards to glimpse into her future, Medea remembered that the predictions had been somewhat accurate, although not as she had anticipated. This time, she hoped for a more favorable outcome.

After shuffling the cards and performing a brief purification ritual, Medea drew her cards. The first card she unveiled was the Devil, symbolizing her past. It came as no surprise, considering the horrendous acts she had committed throughout her life.

Next, she drew the Hanged Man, representing her present. This particular card left Medea deep in thought, as it carried a unique significance.

Upon initial examination, this card may appear to represent a negative state of immobility. However, upon closer inspection, one can grasp that it actually depicts the situation of those who refrain from making futile efforts and instead await the unfolding of events, knowing that the unfavorable circumstances are temporary.

The card symbolizes sacrifice, the endurance of unfavorable conditions in pursuit of a goal. It demands significant effort, sacrifices, and overcoming challenging trials. One must make the most out of an unfortunate turn of events by responding instinctively and avoiding ill-advised reactions, as the temporarily difficult situation risks becoming permanent.

It necessitates self-sacrifice, clear-headedness amidst adversity, and the ability to endure. A temporary sacrifice is required to ultimately improve one's situation. However, it could also signify an improper response to temporary difficulties—a futile endeavor to change a situation where waiting is the only viable option.

...Considering her current state, it made sense why she had picked this card.

She sighed tiredly as she retrieved the third card, hoping for a positive symbol or a sign of liberation from her depressive state.

However, when her eyes fell upon it, she found herself staring intensely...

It was that cursed card—the thirteenth card: Death.

After a moment's pause, she placed it on the table with the others and stood still, contemplating the implications. Then, gathering all the cards, she shuffled them once again, a chill running down her spine, though she couldn't fathom why.

"It couldn't be," Medea thought, a tinge of panic creeping in. Determined to gain further insight, she decided to delve deeper into her life by drawing additional cards.

Love and Devil.

She refrained from delving into the specifics of these cards she had drawn, as they represented her past—a tumultuous mix of unbridled passion and heinous crimes and sins.

Next, she revealed the Moon and the Hanged Man, cards embodying uncertainty, insecurity, and stagnation, reflecting her present state.

Having observed them, Medea carefully selected the first card that would unveil her future. Slowly turning it to face her, her gaze met the twenty-second card: Justice.

Justice encompasses principles of equity and moral integrity, a moment of reckoning, and a call for responsibility, validation of truth, triumph over obstacles, and the embodiment of virtue. Conversely, when inverted, this card signifies a disturbance in equilibrium, injustice, an undue harshness, and an unfavorable judgment.

As Medea laid her eyes upon that card, her breath quickened and beads of sweat formed. With trembling hands, she reached for the final card that held her future, only to be met with a horrifying realization.

...

Death.

After briefly holding the card, it slipped from her grasp, causing her to quickly rise to her feet while keeping her gaze fixed upon it.

"...Justice? Death? What does it mean?" Medea's mind raced with confusion and panic. It wasn't as if she would die of old age anytime soon... If death awaited her, it would be by the hand of another.

How? No, that wasn't the crucial question.

By whom?! Could it be a potential betrayal...?!

Her thoughts raced, leaving her unsure of what course of action to take. Despite her past experience five years prior, once again Medea found herself ignorant of her fate, as she had not seen her own future in a long time.

But there was no reason for her not to see it! She had witnessed herself standing alongside Shirou and the girls during and after the war!

Could this event be destined for a distant future? If so, why did the card appear now? Wasn't it evident that she would eventually die or cease to exist?

...Or...

"...Could it be… that it is her?" Medea voiced her thoughts aloud.

That was a... possibility.

But speculating about her future was merely a waste of time. Medea knew she had to witness it firsthand. Her eyes shimmered with arcane potency, and her resolve intensified as she shut them, pursuing a vision that startled her, elicited a gasp, and impelled her to swiftly reopen her eyes in horror.

It was only a brief glimpse, but she had seen it—the inevitable confrontation, the moment of truth.

Standing in silence, her eyes now wide open, horror and shock washed over her entire being.

Having witnessed her own demise in the vision, Medea found herself in a state of uncertainty.

Initially, she grappled with denial, attempting to convince herself of an error. Yet, despite her inclination to reject the vision, its coherence was undeniable. Beads of sweat adorned her forehead, and her heart thudded incessantly.

While inaccuracies in tarot readings were one thing, her own divination held a different weight. Reluctantly, she had to embrace it as reality, even if it propelled her into a pit of despair.

…

If what she had witnessed was her destined fate, then she had to take action.

Upon reflection, such an outcome appeared nearly unavoidable given the scope of her actions, yet the manner of her demise had eluded her expectations.

A wave of depression and anguish then engulfed her—a depth of despair she had never experienced before. However, Medea remained 'calm', devoid of emotion. Yet, she needed an outlet. Casting her gaze around the room, she focused on her desk. Retrieving her diary, she poured her thoughts onto its pages, for she had no one else with whom she could confide.

She had seen where it would occur but remained uncertain about when. However, if her other theory held true, the one that made sense and justified her past visions, then the event would unfold relatively soon. Time was of the essence, and she had to act before it was too late.

Leaving the room behind, she made her way toward the backyard. A new objective had formed in her mind, as ruthlessness began to consume her being.

Every loose end had to be severed.

She had never been one to leave any loose ends, but there was one "exception" in particular that could be considered as such—a potential liability for the distant future.

"Zolgen, come. We need to discuss an urgent matter," Medea communicated through their mental link.

She waited in the backyard, seated on the porch, for Zolgen's arrival. As soon as he appeared, she gestured for him to join her.

"I apologize for reaching out to you unexpectedly, but come, Zolgen, sit by my side. There is something I must discuss with you," she beckoned.

Zolgen stood still for a moment, observing his master. He sensed that something was amiss. Medea seemed different, and the atmosphere hung heavy with silence. The way she looked at him unsettled him.

"What is it, Miss? I was about to inquire if you were feeling better, but I sense a disturbance within you," Zolgen said, growing uneasy as he surveyed the surroundings.

"...It is more than just a disturbance, my friend. For I fear that, despite all my abilities, I have made a grave oversight," Medea spoke, her gaze fixed on the darkening sky.

"An oversight?" Zolgen questioned, intrigued, as he took a seat beside her. "What could it be?" His eyes followed Medea's gaze towards the sky.

"...My time is drawing near, Zolgen. Soon, I cannot pinpoint exactly when, but I will meet my end," Medea calmly revealed, despite the gravity of her words.

"What?!" Zolgen exclaimed, shocked, turning to face her. "How is that even possible, Medea? Are you certain of the authenticity of this vision?"

"I am..."

"Then tell me how I can help you prevent it," Zolgen responded calmly, the initial surprise and shock replaced by a composed demeanor.

"There is nothing either of us can do. And before you inquire further, I am certain of its authenticity, Zolgen. However, I cannot disclose the specifics of my impending demise. It is a burden I must bear alone..."

"...," Zolgen stood still, observing Medea intently. He didn't know what to say—the news had come abruptly, catching him off guard. Medea refused to share any further details, and now she stared fixedly at a particular spot in the backyard.

Zolgen found himself profoundly shocked and disoriented at that very moment. To put it more precisely, he had been utterly blindsided. Nearly six months had passed since his last conversation with Medea, and now she had surprised him with a call, unveiling distressing news. Could her visions be the root of her decline in recent years?

However, the most crucial inquiry weighing on his thoughts was not that.

Why did she refuse to speak? Why had she summoned him? They needed to take action! He couldn't simply stand by and watch her die after everything she had done for him! And he...

"...Remember when we first met, Zolgen?" she interrupted, bringing him back from his thoughts.

"Yes, I do," he responded.

Why was this relevant? Shouldn't she be preparing herself to avoid her fate? She possessed all the necessary capabilities to do so!

...No, wait. Could it be that she had already attempted to change her fate but failed? ...But that couldn't be true. It could not be possible. Perhaps all she needed was his assistance. Yes. The shock of what she had seen had left her uncertain about how to proceed. That's why she had reached out to him. She sought guidance and support, and he was ready to provide it.

"...Then you should recall what I told you. I expressed my desire for a quiet and peaceful life," she said, her gaze fixed on the ground.

"...Indeed, I remember... And... you have lived a quiet life," Zolgen said before falling into deep contemplation.

Many times his master had asked him to watch over Shirou and the Tohsaka heirs when she couldn't accompany them. He didn't know if she had ulterior motives, but since regaining his sanity, a profound sense of shame lingered whenever he observed the young Sakura. He was reminded of the terrible ordeals he had put the poor girl through for his sick and twisted plans... Seeing their peaceful lives, witnessing their tranquility, sometimes evoked a longing within him, but he had a greater purpose...

"...But, as always, circumstances have changed," Medea interjected, breaking Zolgen's train of thought. "And it should come as no surprise. In the end, I have always been profoundly selfish. Despite finding my own happiness, it seems I am still unsatisfied."

"What is it that you seek, other than a means to evade your own death?" Zolgen inquired.

Upon hearing his question, she shook her head slowly.

"No... you misunderstand me, Zolgen. Now, all I truly desire, my friend, is peace," Medea stated, her gaze fixed ahead, on that same spot in the backyard.

Zolgen turned to her, horror etched across his face, realization sinking in of the deeper meaning behind her words.

"And unfortunately," Medea continued, turning to face him directly, "as long as you live, I will not find it."

"...Miss?" Zolgen spoke, perplexed, while Medea stood up.

Zolgen gazed up at her, awaiting an explanation, but Medea simply stared down at him, her expression devoid of any emotion. Her eyes were sharp and cold, revealing nothing.

Zolgen made a motion to rise, but he noticed the activation of the bounded field and the appearance of magic circles surrounding him. The air grew heavy, as if it were shifting.

"...Is there something I have done to make you doubt my loyalty?" he inquired in a neutral tone, understanding that resistance was futile.

He didn't even attempt to defend himself. She held his life, quite literally, in her hands. She possessed control over his very soul. Yet, if she desired his demise, why summon him here? Why not simply kill him instead of orchestrating this elaborate display? Did she want to witness his death with her own eyes?

"No, Zolgen. You have been a remarkably loyal servant, someone who has always carried out my requests admirably... I couldn't have asked for a better companion... But the issue concerning you arises after my death."

'Ah, I see,' Zolgen thought, feeling a sense of relief. She had at least shown him the mercy of explaining her actions.

"...You believe that I might turn against those you hold dear? ...Or that I would participate in the war if you were to perish before its commencement?"

"Neither. I know you would never act against me in any way, as I have ensured it. However, I am also aware that you have regained your sanity, returning to the good person you once were... Yet, this does not absolve you of your past actions, does it?"

"...," Zolgen fell silent.

"Zolgen," she began, "what do you envision for yourself in another five-hundred years, when my sway over you will have long dissipated? Will you be able to maintain your sanity and find what you seek, or will you once again devolve into a decrepit and deranged lich? ...And what would happen if you were to transform in such a way, possessing all the power and knowledge I have bestowed upon you?"

A lengthy silence hung in the air.

"...It would be catastrophic," he whispered, clenching his right fist and bringing it to his mouth, contemplating the horrors he might unleash.

"Indeed. I knew you would come to that realization. And you will also understand that, since I am the one who granted you these newfound powers, I bear the responsibility for how you wield them."

"...I see. As much as it pains me to admit it, your concerns are justified. It is true. I am not someone who can be trusted with this kind of power... I must be kept under constant scrutiny... and since you will... soon, disappear, there will be no one to fulfill that role."

"Now that you comprehend, I hope you will not harbor any resentment for what I am about to do," Medea stated, her right hand producing his Crest worm.

"I apologize for the abruptness... You know how highly I regard you... But I am left with little time... and no other options."

"...There is no need for you to apologize... and...Thank you, Miss. Thank you for everything you have done for me and for saving me," Zolgen expressed with a small smile.

"...?" Medea raised an eyebrow upon hearing his words.

"...I suppose you have never considered my perspective. Nonetheless, know that I am eternally grateful to you. Since you transformed me into your follower, granting me some of your power and wisdom, I have slowly regained fragments of my sanity... and memories. You saved me from what I had become..." Zolgen spoke before his gaze wandered into the distance.

"...The truth is, I have long remembered my original aspirations... but witnessing the depths of my own depravity and madness... it horrified me. I feared repeating those same mistakes once more..."

"..."

"In these past ten years, I have sought something that would ensure I never become that again... but the things I have done to my family... the atrocities committed against innocent people... even children were not spared..."

"..."

"I cannot even fathom if she witnessed my descent into madness and cruelty..." Zolgen turned his head towards Mount Enzou. "...In the end, I have amounted to nothing but a worthless being. Despite my aspirations, death and destruction are the only legacies I have left behind. It is better for abominations like me to vanish from this world..."

"..."

"My wish was to attain the Heaven's Feel, to aid humanity, alleviate its suffering, and elevate it to a higher plane of existence. I firmly believed that, for the greater good, no 'sacrifice' was too great... no life was too precious..." Zolgen spoke, the death of his loved one flashing through his mind.

"..."

"Yet, despite the passage of time and all that has occurred, my conviction remains unchanged. If there is even the slightest chance that my death will prevent any further tragedies, then it must be done."

"..."

"Do what you must, Miss. After all I have done, someone like me deserves no mercy." Zolgen turned to meet Medea's gaze, taking note of the way she regarded him.

"...I never thought I would find such a connection with another, especially not with you..." She spoke, her words tinged with admiration and inspired by Zolgen's unwavering determination.

Zolgen nodded. He had long sensed her pain and felt a sense of familiarity within it. Truth be told, it was comforting to have someone who understood him… in the end.

"It has been a pleasure knowing you. I only wish we had conversed more during our time together. That will be one of my last regrets. Farewell, Zolgen. May you find solace in whatever afterlife awaits you," Medea said before crushing the Crest Worm in her hand, extinguishing the life of the ancient mage.

Slowly, Zolgen's eyes lost their vitality, and his body grew limp, collapsing to the ground. It swiftly disintegrated as the familiar that once inhabited his form dispersed and perished on their own.

Silently, Medea observed the entire scene unfold. Before turning away and making her way back to her room, she cast a final glance at that same spot in the backyard.