"What an… interesting day. Where did Berserker even go?"
Kariya exhaled, the sound more sigh than breath, as he stepped out of Sakura's room. His shoulders sagged beneath exhaustion's weight. Today had been filled with too many shocking events, Berserker beating Zouken, saving both him and Sakura, leaving behind mystic codes of protection even in his absence.
Kariya clenched his fists. He owed Berserker far too much.
Even if Sakura was safe, even if his own purpose was fulfilled, he could not abandon this war. Berserker must be here for a wish of his own, a desire only the Grail could grant. And though he gave without taking-though he seemed kind-Kariya could not simply withdraw. At the very least, he would continue to supply him with mana.
Perhaps it was selfish. Perhaps he only wanted to see Berserker crush Tōkōmi's pride, to strike down the man who had stolen so much from him. Maybe, when it was over, he would ask Berserker to kill him… or do it himself. So what if Tōkōmi had studied magicraft longer? Kariya would prove he could still prevail.
At last as he lay down. Darkness took him.
..............................
He opened his eyes.
"Where… am I?"
A strange place stretched before him. And there, a throne, upon it sat a child: white hair, crimson eyes, a crown of gold upon his brow. A man with a bow stood before him, speaking words Kariya could not hear. The child answered, voice muted, then the vision shifted.
Two armies faced one another, At their heads stood two sovereigns: on one side, a girl clad in black and blue, her crown forged of gold and fire; on the other, the white-haired child astride a silver-armored horse.
The girl raised her hand. Her army surged forward; the child's soldiers met them in kind, yet their clash was interrupted by a tide of black beasts pouring across the battlefield. Enemies became allies in an instant, the two rulers fighting side by side as their warriors struck the tide.
The ground was painted red. Corpses lay in rivers of blood. At last the tide withdrew, leaving both sides shattered. The two sovereigns met one another's eyes… and retreated with their armies back into the shadows.
The dream shifted.
...........................
A void.
A great clock spun before Kariya, icy-blue light spilling from its hands as years fled by in moments. Then a new scene, the two rulers sitting at a table, parchment between them, pens scratching, treaties sealed.
Another shift.
The crowned child sat upon his throne as a courier delivered a letter. The boy smiled faintly, shook his head, and gave commands to his soldiers. Caravans followed, great beasts bearing food, arms, iron stretching across the land.
Months later the same courier returned, pale as death, words striking the boy like a blow. He rose from his throne, fury on his face as he called his guards to arms.
The dream darkened.
...........................….
Cities fell one by one, not to ruin but to conquest. The child's army marched, stopping riots, quelling thieves, binding men in order. His iron fist forced surrender after surrender, until only one city remained.
A titan loomed above its walls, a machine glowing upon its back. Yet from the gates came a golden-haired woman, three red-headed children trailing behind. She knelt, delivered a letter. The boy read it, considered, and finally nodded. The gates opened.
Nobles were dragged from their palaces, hung in the plazas of both the city and their floating retreat in front the titan. And upon the child's brow was placed a crown of white steel.
Kariya's breath caught. That crown… that boy… Berserker?!
But before he could think further, the clock appeared once more, whirling faster.
.............................
The child had grown into a youth. The streets bloomed with reverence instead of fear. Flowers showered his path. A small girl ran to him, offering a crown of flowers. He knelt, received it with a laugh, and then passed his metal crown to a man in white robes, placing the flower crown upon his own head.
Behind him gathered companions: the golden-haired woman, the three red-haired children, a white-haired man speaking gently with a pink-haired girl, a golden-haired warrior, a lilac-haired maiden keeping her distance a green haired man wearing a eyepatch looking at the golden haired woman with annoyance all over his face with another pink haired girl talking to him, while a silver haired catgirl seemed to be planning something as she look at the crown. Together they climbed toward a palace of white marble looking like it was made of the bone of a giant beast, floating in the skies above.
The clock spun faster. Faster still. Until it shattered.
............................
Kariya reeled.
Before him now stood Berserker as he knew him, older, maskless, yet unmistakable.
In his eyes Kariya saw ruin, Cities collapsing. Companions swallowed one by one by that black tide. The sky burned red as the world ended.
Berserker rose from his throne, not like a triumphant king, but like an old, weary man the same crown of flowers rested on his hand preserved by the cane's power.
"So this is the end, then? It truly came, after all. But… perhaps one last deed remains."
He lifted his cane, it shifted into a bow. His sword became the arrow. Golden light gathered as he drew.
But instead of loosening it upon the monsters, he fired into the sky. Gravity dragged the arrow down-back to him-striking his own heart.
Light answered. A dragon's roar split the world, golden and terrible. Ravines tore open to swallow the tide of monsters, shields of light rose to guard the city as the people gazed skyward.
But the dragon's gaze turned, not on the tide, but on a battlefield apart.
There, the pink-haired girl lay wounded, the white-haired man standing guard as an android spoke to them as he looked down upon them, as if to mock them.
The dragon bellowed one final time. Gold bled away from its scales, turning them earth-brown like stone. as light gathered in its maw then It released its blast, consuming the machine, tearing it from existence, but not without cost. The machine's final strike pierced the dragon, hurling it down from the sky.
The girl shone blue. The world distorted.
The broken clock returned, spinning counter-clockwise, faster and faster until the blue light became a blur.
Kariya watched. He could not look away.
The world rewound. Then played again.
..............................…
Berserker rose as a child-king. Armies clashed. The Black Tide came. Cities fell. Companions bled. He rose, he fought, he failed.
The clock turned back.
Again.
Battle. Loss. Despair. Even when the time of their fall changed, the outcome remained the same.
Again.
The laughter turned to screams. The same dragon falling from the sky. In each cycle, he was among the last to fall.
Again.
And again.
And again.
The visions hammered Kariya like waves against rock. He could no longer count the loops. A thousand. Ten thousand. The number dissolved, too vast to name.
Each time began in hope, each time ended in ruin. He watched the same companions die, over and over, in a thousand variations of grief. He watched the same cities burn, rebuilt, burn again. The clock shattered and mended, shattered and mended, as though time itself was a cruel puppeteer tugging the strings of fate and laughing in silence.
Kariya felt as though he, too, had lived those countless lives, as though the weight of millennia pressed against his chest. His sanity began to slip.
And at last, in one cycle unlike the rest, Berserker paused.
His eye glowed violet. Shadow crawled across his form. The void leaned close, as if to swallow him whole.
"So this is the truth," Berserker murmured, voice frayed but steady. "I was never the master of my fate. I was only a passenger. A pawn in plans I cannot see. And I only remember everything… when it is far too late."
A mask formed upon his face, half comedy, half tragedy. One side laughing to mock the world, the other drowning in despair, regret, failure. A will broken beyond repair. A mind shattered in two.
He drew the bow once more, loosed the arrow into the sky. As the light rose to consume him, his final words reached Kariya, raw and bitter:
"Even now… if this fate cannot be escaped, then let me fall. Let me break. Let me shatter, if by my ruin others may be spared.
I will shoulder every burden. I will bind every wound.
Even if the price is myself…
even if I am left with no mind to think, no will to break, no voice to cry suffering.
For in the end, there is no cost too great.
Let this arrow be my last act, my last testament to the people of this world…
and the rest… I entrust to you, old friend…"The light surged, devouring him, devouring the dream.
At that final moment Kariya saw three figures. One laughed with glee as if to mock Berserker's act. One struck a hammer against a giant wall, eyes full of pity. And the last closed its eyes as it gave its power without care, swallowing all into void. As the scene vanished, the other two shattered, leaving only the mask laughing at a cursed fate.
..............................…
Kariya awoke in the dark, chest heaving, sweat cold on his skin.
"What a cruel fate…