The contract's magical light slowly faded from the boy's small hand, the three bright red Command Seals blazing like a brand, announcing the birth of a new Master.
The street returned to silence. Only the sound of leaves in the evening breeze and the boy's ragged breath filled the dusk.
Seeing Ritsuka nearly collapse, a flicker of emotion passed through Steve's eyes.
But he didn't act. He was no cold-blooded commander, forcing spent soldiers into battle; nor was he some ruthless, puppetmaster Alaya, treating heroes as disposable pawns for humanity's sake.
If all he cared for was efficiency, this elaborate script would've been unnecessary—he already had many ways to stop Marisbury Animusphere.
He could, for instance, have easily disposed of him at the airport when he landed, or gone even further and caused an undetectable heart attack in the Lord of Astromancy's Clock Tower office.
Even a great magus, holding only a human body, could not withstand this true super-Servant, paper-thin in comparison.
But he didn't choose that path.
A victory like that would be far too cheap—boring.
Such an easy script lacked the most vital elements: conflict, growth, the aesthetic needed to counteract regret.
The reason he'd gone to such lengths to involve Fujimaru Ritsuka was to make up for a bitter regret.
In that adjusted future, the last Master of humanity never managed to face Marisbury, the true mastermind, directly.
He was always left to deal with that man's legacy and the disasters left behind.
For this story's protagonist—who'd resolved to save humanity by any means, enduring countless despairs and even losing his memories—that would never be complete.
Steve's job was to craft a proper stage.
A final battle more grand than any shrinking scale the FGO Part 2 script offered—a true, primordial clash with the ultimate evil.
Steve had his own back-up plans. Right now, he used only his Caster class—scientific precision, but the weakest of all his forms.
If the situation truly became irrecoverable, he could always abandon this class and switch to his Saver form as the Ascended Savior—the strongest version. By then, neither King of Magecraft nor Alien God would be more than ashes in his hand.
That absolute confidence was the foundation of his composure.
As he pondered, Steve's expression softened.
He looked at the now-exhausted, barely-standing boy, speaking in a gentle, nearly consoling tone:
"You must have so many thoughts, so many things you want to do right away—
But there's no need to rush. For now…"
"…Huh?"
Ritsuka looked up, blue eyes full of confusion.
His memories told him every minute, every second, was precious—and even a slight delay could spell irreparable disaster.
Instinctively, he started to argue, "But Marisbury, he—"
"That old Director… There's no need to rush into battle tonight," Steve said firmly, as if seeing right through his thoughts. "Right now, you're carrying memories far beyond your age. Mentally and physically, you're on the edge of collapse.
What you need most isn't to fight—but to rest."
He pointed gently to the warmly-lit house not far away.
"Go home, as you always do. Your parents will have dinner waiting. Eat a good meal. Take a warm bath. Get a full night's sleep.
Enjoy one last Christmas Eve before the final battle.
You'll have plenty of time to reach Fuyuki tomorrow night."
"But..."
Uncertainty and conflict flashed over Ritsuka's face.
Somewhere, a hero's sense of duty made it hard for him to rest.
He opened his mouth as if to protest.
Steve, realizing simple logic would never convince a veteran soul forged by countless battles, offered him a different bait—one impossible to refuse.
"And, Ritsuka—"
Steve's tone grew meaningful. "Were you… planning to face all this alone?"
"Don't you remember? In that long Chaldea journey of yours, you never fought alone even once."
He paused, then spoke two names, one by one, clearly into the boy's ear:
"These days… you can probably find them too, if you look. That strict Director who cared about you more than anyone.
And the kouhai who was always by your side."
[Director… and the kouhai?]
With a single spark, the vast sea of memory brought forth in an instant the names "Olga Marie" and "Mash."
Ritsuka's body trembled violently.
All the determined tension in his small face broke, and the immense, suppressed sorrow and longing—forced down by an adult's will—flooded out.
He remembered the white-haired Director, cast into the CHALDEAS in the Singularity F: Fuyuki, erased from existence, a person he could never save no matter how many times he tried.
He remembered the demi-servant who always smiled and walked by his side, who disappeared into the light to defend him at the Final Singularity, who was revived, traversed the Lostbelts with him, and, after defeating the Maris CHALDEAS, reached out tearfully to hold his hand—vowing never to part again.
That regret was something he could never wipe away.
And now, this mysterious Servant was telling him: in this era, they can be found.
"Why… why is this possible…?"
His voice trembled with tears, and at last, the blue eyes filled with them.
It wasn't weakness.
No—it was the most human of all reactions. After endless despair, suddenly, hope had appeared.
"There is nothing impossible, Master." Steve smiled, affirming that hope.
"And so, you mustn't rush."
"We'll depart at first light tomorrow.
And before plunging into war against Marisbury, let's find, one by one, your most precious companions—
So that this battle leaves no regret."
How could he possibly refuse?
For Fujimaru Ritsuka, this was an irresistible poison—and the sweetest of all gifts.
He sniffled hard, fighting to blink away the tears. Then, he roughly wiped his face with his sleeve.
When he looked up again, the swelling hope of tomorrow once more shined in his reddened eyes.
"...Alright."
He nodded firmly, all hesitation gone.
"Caster—do as you say."
"Very good."
Steve smiled contentedly, stood, and ruffled the boy's black hair one last time.
"Now, go home.
Tomorrow will be a long day indeed."
The boy nodded, then turned—exhausted, but with new resolve—toward the lighted door of his house.
Steve stood quietly, watching the small figure until it vanished behind the door. When the front porch lights went out and the glow moved upstairs, only then did he look away.
"So, next—what comes...?"
He gazed toward Fuyuki, blue eyes turning deep. "Olga Marie Animusphere… Mash Kyrielight… Where in this era are you?"
By the time he finished thinking, his form had faded into the Tokyo night.
…
Bonus chapter at 300 PS