Flames shot into the sky with a thunderous roar.
Turning his head, Shirou immediately saw the person responsible.
It was Talulah.
A sword wreathed in fire rested in her hand, and every swing produced the sound of flames burning through the air.
As for her opponents, they were the people Shirou least wanted to see right now.
The Emperor's Blades.
Imperial Guards.
And there were two of them.
Aside from the pressure coming from the two Imperial Guards, Shirou could also feel the gaze that had been watching him all this time growing increasingly intense.
It was as though its owner had already decided he was prey on a dinner plate and was preparing to put him on the grill.
Faced with this situation, Shirou's choice was...
"Hey? Are you there? Can you help me out?"
He called for help from the other Emiya Shirou inside him.
There was no shame in asking yourself for help.
If the situation had not truly become this dire, Shirou would never have thought of turning to him.
After all, the other Shirou's circumstances might have been even worse than his own.
"..."
Unfortunately, no matter how many times Shirou called out in his mind, there was no response.
After glancing at the battlefield around him, he made a decision without hesitation.
After giving the crossbowman a brief warning, he closed his eyes and let his consciousness sink inward.
Just like the times he had entered the place where those "doors" existed.
It was a dangerous move.
If anything went wrong, he might fall unconscious again and never wake up no matter how much people tried to rouse him.
After all, when the body was pushed to its limits, relaxing even slightly could make it impossible to awaken again.
To put it another way, it was like every time Exusiai stayed up all night.
She would always claim she only needed five more minutes of sleep in the morning.
Then she would lie back down and vanish for an entire hour, only waking up after Croissant led a full-scale charging assault to drag her out of bed.
"Where is this?"
Entering this place again after so long, Shirou finally got a good look at his surroundings.
The area was still engulfed by endless sandstorms.
Beyond the small patch of land where he stood, he could see nothing.
The place where the doors had once stood had vanished completely.
Only a barren wasteland remained.
Though calling it barren was not entirely accurate.
The black crystalline formations covering the ground were clearly Originium.
Looking at the empty landscape, Shirou realized that he had lost his gamble.
If there had been anything else here, perhaps there would still have been a sliver of hope.
But aside from the sandstorm that blocked his vision and prevented him from leaving this area, and the Originium scattered across the ground, there was nothing.
If the Originium could still be used, things might have been different.
Unfortunately, Shirou had already tested it.
The Originium here was no different from ordinary stones.
Some pieces had even begun to show signs of weathering.
Shirou understood why.
These were all Originium crystals he had absorbed in the past.
After extracting their energy and converting it into mana, the depleted crystals had been left here.
Over time, the wind had gradually eroded them away.
"Looks like... I lost the bet."
Crushing a weathered piece of Originium in his hand, Shirou let out a helpless sigh.
Deep down, he had already known what the outcome would be.
But the situation outside had become far too desperate.
He had no better option.
All he could do was wager everything on that tiny possibility.
Compared to a Catastrophe, human threats were easier to deal with.
If he could only move, he would have a chance to fight alongside Talulah and the Yeti Squadron and drive those enemies back.
Unfortunately, he could not.
With his Magic Circuits overloaded, even moving his numb body was difficult.
Projecting Noble Phantasms was completely out of the question.
"What a terrible ending."
Everything before him was telling him that he had reached a dead end.
Yet he still could not accept it.
Not because he was unwilling to die.
Rather, because the people trying to help him were still fighting.
Still rushing toward him.
What he could not accept was the fact that he had dragged so many others into danger.
Even so, he did not regret stopping the Catastrophe.
Those were two separate matters.
He had stopped the Catastrophe.
He had saved people.
And now those people had chosen to save him.
They should not be dying here.
Shirou did not believe he was worth having so many lives risked on his behalf.
They should be shining elsewhere.
Making a difference elsewhere.
Not dying quietly in this place.
A powerful sense of frustration filled his heart.
The only thing he could do was channel all of it into his fist and slam it into the ground.
He did not even leave a dent.
Not the slightest mark.
Shirou knew exactly what this was.
Powerless rage.
No phrase could describe his current state more accurately.
Because he truly lacked the power to solve the situation before him.
All he could do was watch helplessly as others risked their lives.
"So, are you really planning to give up just like that?"
A somewhat cold, yet strangely familiar voice reached Shirou's ears.
"!"
The moment he heard it, Shirou raised his head and looked around.
A dark figure emerged from the swirling sandstorm.
The sight allowed Shirou to recognize him immediately.
"Nameless?"
The reason for his uncertainty was that the Nameless standing before him looked different from the one he had seen in photographs.
His bare upper body was dark in color, but more than half of it was covered in golden patterns.
Even his face had been overtaken by the same golden markings.
"Are you planning to give up?"
Clearly, Nameless had no intention of answering Shirou's question and instead repeated his own.
"..."
Looking at him, Shirou felt an indescribable pressure bearing down on him.
This was perhaps the first time he had truly met him face-to-face.
There were some things that could only be understood when seen with one's own eyes.
His cold words.
His indifferent gaze.
And the golden markings branded across his skin.
Though it felt somewhat inappropriate for him to say so, Nameless's first impression was honestly difficult to describe as good.
Even knowing his identity beforehand did not change that.
"You—"
Just as Nameless was about to ask again, Shirou finally snapped out of his thoughts and interrupted him.
"Of course I do not want to give up!"
His face tense, Shirou gritted his teeth as he spoke.
Every ounce of frustration and unwillingness in his heart had been compressed into that single sentence.
If he had a way to act, he would have done so already.
Why else would he be here searching for the faintest sliver of possibility?
"If you do not want to give up, then move!"
After hearing Shirou's answer, a trace of light appeared within Nameless's indifferent golden eyes.
"The battlefield is right in front of you. Advance with everything you have!"
"Do not retreat, and do not place your hopes in others."
With every sentence he spoke, the changes in his body became more obvious.
His eyes.
His expression.
His posture.
And the encroachment of those golden markings.
The patterns that already covered most of his body continued spreading.
Shirou could even see golden dust falling from him.
He wanted to stop it.
Unfortunately, Nameless gave him no chance to do so.
"Even if you have to grind your teeth to dust, even if you have to drain every last drop of blood from your body, you must keep moving forward—"
After saying that, Nameless suddenly faltered.
His expression became distant, and his brows knitted tightly together.
Vein-like patterns surfaced across his body.
He looked as though he were enduring immense pain.
The condition lasted for more than ten seconds before Nameless finally opened his eyes again.
However, his gaze and expression had returned to the distant, unapproachable state they had possessed at the beginning.
"I..."
Looking at the figure before him, Shirou desperately wanted to say something.
Yet after hesitating for a long time, he still could not find the words.
He wanted to argue that, under these circumstances, even if he wished to solve the problem, reality simply would not allow it.
But he could not bring himself to say it.
He had seen Nameless's memories.
Those fragmented, shattered memories that looked as though they had been torn apart and then crudely stitched back together.
Though incomplete and chaotic, they were enough for Shirou to understand the choices Nameless had made.
Even after grinding his teeth to dust.
Even after squeezing every last drop of blood and bodily fluid from himself.
Even after erasing his own emotions.
He had still chosen that path and continued forward without hesitation.
Nameless had truly lived according to the very words he was speaking now.
That was why Shirou could not refute him.
"There is no need to tell me what you are thinking."
As Shirou struggled to find a response, Nameless continued speaking.
"I know very well what you have done."
"And I know the price you paid for it."
Unlike his earlier passion or indifference, there was now a trace of bitterness in his voice.
"These words..."
"They are merely the experience of someone who has already walked this road."
"Do not retreat. The moment you choose to run away once, you will eventually have to pay an even greater price to fill the hole that decision leaves behind."
"And for the rest of your life, you will drown in that pain."
"It will cling to you all the way until the very end, even after you sink to the bottom of the abyss."
With every sentence Nameless spoke, fragments of his memories flashed before Shirou's eyes.
In one of them, he had refused to harm others in pursuit of his objective.
Yet because he failed to achieve that objective, even more people ended up dying.
And afterward he personally slaughtered far, far, far more people than had died back then.
Even Taiga—
"Urgh..."
The instant that fragment of memory flashed before his eyes, Shirou clutched his stomach and dropped into a crouch.
Although he could not actually vomit in this place, the nausea did not disappear.
If anything, the inability to throw up only made the sensation worse.
It was painful, yet he still forced himself to think about the meaning behind Nameless's words.
The two speeches Nameless had given were remarkably similar.
The only difference was the tone and attitude with which they had been delivered.
As for why there had been such a dramatic shift between the two, Shirou had a fairly good idea.
Looking at the man before him, who had once again returned to that distant and unapproachable demeanor, Shirou felt a heavy weight pressing down on his heart.
After all, the other man was also Emiya Shirou.
That made it all too easy for him to imagine himself in Nameless's place.
The same person.
The same ideals.
The same way of thinking.
And the ending reached through all of it—
"We are not the same."
As though he had seen through Shirou's thoughts, Nameless spoke.
This time, his voice no longer carried the negative emotions from before.
Instead, it was much gentler.
"Neither I nor that red-clad fellow are the same as you."
"We are dead men. Heroic Spirits."
"And a Heroic Spirit is merely one aspect of a person's life preserved from a certain point in time."
"But you are alive."
"You can learn. You can correct your mistakes. You can keep moving forward."
"And there is one greatest difference between us—"
At that point, the corner of Nameless's mouth seemed to lift slightly.
For the first time, Shirou saw emotions on his face.
Relief.
And envy.
"—You still have many people around you who share your ideals."
"People willing to throw down a rope and pull you back."
Listening to those words, Shirou gradually began to understand what Nameless was trying to say.
What he did not understand was why he was saying them.
That question was answered when a black gun-blade appeared in Nameless's left hand.
After casually spinning it once, Nameless extended the shaft toward Shirou.
Only then did Shirou finally realize.
"Take it."
"What awaits you afterward is a road leading straight to hell."
Maintaining the same posture, Nameless continued.
"Even so, even knowing that the end of that road is hell... that it leads only to emptiness..."
"You or rather, Emiya Shirou as a perso —will still choose to keep moving forward, will you not?"
"...You are right."
Shirou met Nameless's gaze with eyes that shone the same golden color.
After all those words, Nameless had simply been warning him not to reach the same ending.
The moment he accepted the ticket being offered, the process of assimilation would begin.
Just like that Emiya Shirou who had accepted a card in order to save his only remaining family member.
Some things could never be undone once they began.
And yet—
He would still make the same choice.
Whether for the ideal known as the Ally of Justice.
For the people who had shown him kindness.
Or for the people of Rhodes Island, Lungmen, and Penguin Logistics.
He had to make this choice.
Because there was only one path before him.
"Even if there is nothing waiting at the end..."
"I will keep moving forward."
He did not care what awaited him at the end of that road.
Because what truly mattered were all the things he had witnessed along the way.
And even if he lost his way, he would not be alone.
Just as Nameless had said, there were many people around him who shared the same ideals.
When the time came, they would reach out and pull him back.
Shirou extended his hand and firmly grasped the black gun-blade.
"Ah... is that not wonderful?"
"Ally of Justice."
The moment Shirou took hold of the weapon, Nameless quietly closed his eyes and murmured those words.
At the same time, his body began to disintegrate.
Starting from the golden markings, he broke apart into countless particles of golden dust.
The dust flowed along the gun-blade and poured into Shirou.
Some of the golden particles covered his body, forming a black-and-gold garment around his left arm.
The rest entered his body directly.
Shirou could clearly feel changes occurring within his Magic Circuits.
More than that, he seemed to have formed a connection with someone.
Mana continuously flowed from that distant person into him.
"...I do not know why."
"But for some reason... I feel like crying."
As the final traces of golden dust disappeared into Shirou's body, he heard the man's last whisper.
Then he opened his eyes.
His consciousness returned to reality.
And in his left hand was no longer the black gun-blade.
Instead, he held a black card etched with golden patterns.