Shinji had a dream.
In the dream, he saw a nation where the sky was perpetually shrouded in gloom.
No, it wasn't just glood; it was a deeper monotony as if the entire world had only three colors: pure white, profound black, and ambiguous shades of gray that transitioned and alternated in intensity.
This was a realm of shadows, a realm that did not belong to the living, a truly eerie place.
In this monotonous and oppressive nation, that person was the only color, the sole ruler.
She was the queen of this realm, the undeniable mistress of this world beyond. She was the guardian of the border between the mundane and the mystical.
Countless years had not left a trace on her body; they had only refined her unique aura, making her flawless and impeccable.
Her wise eyes pierced through the gray haze of the sky, the shadows on the ground, and even the towering walls, eting the gaze that crossed ti and space.
mories, information, and much deeper things were transmitted through this intangible connection.
In an instant, Shinji saw many things—a millennium in the blink of an eye.
Nurous lives...
She had truly taken away countless lives before. Whether they were human, undead, or gods, she confronted and slaughtered them all.
Battle after battle after battle.
Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill.
This body, soaked in the blood of enemies, beca eternal.
No more aging.
No death.
Transford into a "certain existence" that would forever endure.
Since the first ti she took up a spear, how much ti had passed? She couldn't rember. Wait, in this body that guarded the "Gate" and gained the wisdom of the abyss, it was possible to asure ti accurately.
But she didn't want to know through such ans.
It wasn't lancholy. It wasn't resignation.
Is it regret?
I don't know.
It's possible, but it's also hard to say for certain.
At least, the emotions that went unnoticed when slaughtering nurous monsters and instructing the warriors of Ulster do exist within now.
Ah, indeed, I did teach many warriors before.
At the end of infinite ti, everything will die and disappear completely.
Amidst the deliberately indifferent mories that have been maintained, only the image of one man, one man's figure, can erge.
Crimson pupils...
When the brilliance in his eyes flashes through my mind, an inexplicable gentleness arises in my heart.
Even this body, which has beco eternal and unable to undergo any change, can feel warmth.
Hope for a reunion with him?
Such a wish does not exist, I can assert that.
So what is it then? If I must say, it is the hope to be killed by that man...
Hope for the arrival of my death as a human.
However, does that man, the one who has beco a Heroic Spirit, the one who has lost the radiance of life, still possess the ability to kill , even if I were a god?
As a being fixed in death, in the identity of a Heroic Spirit?
Regardless, this is the only hope, the only hope I know of, and among the many warriors, he is the only one who might fulfill my expectations.
It should have been this way, it should have been like this. I should have embraced the faint hope and quietly awaited the end of the world.
However, it seems that my predetermined fate has shifted ever so slightly. A newly born life, the crimson pupils in my heart, have been stained with a hint of blue, and in this mysterious fading era, a completely new encounter brings unknown possibilities.
At the end of the dream, the queen seated on the throne removes the veil from her face.
This was Shinji's first ti seeing her face, the countenance that illuminated this realm of shadows, a visage that even the legendary goddess paled in comparison to. Her lips, always slightly downturned, opened and closed gently with a touch of lancholy and allure, delivering a voice that was incredibly familiar to Shinji's heart.
"Do you know what the Shadow Land is like?"
Just as its na suggests.
A realm of darkness that perates in all directions, a place where sunlight never reaches, the world of death.
Looking back, Cu Chulainn's arrival was truly ironic.
Look, isn't that guy the son of the sun?
...
In the Shadow Land, there are seven walls.
No, it's not ant to be taken literally.
It's sothing symbolic, like a representation of a truth you already know.
In other words, "the dead will never be resurrected." The inhabitants of the Shadow Land will never surpass the walls and appear on the surface.
It should be like that.
That's the norm.
But I, the guardian of the norms of the Shadow Land, have violated this norm.
I hope that one day you can successfully uphold the norms of the world and impressively send back to this world, my Master.
The shadows before my eyes gradually recede, and the scenery of the Shadow Land begins to blur. Darkness once again occupies my field of vision.
A faint ray of light pierces the endless darkness. It's not the light of a dream; it's real sunlight.
Shinji opens his eyes, waking up from his slumber.
As usual, he rubs his eyes with his hand but discovers that they are moist, trailing down his cheeks to his chin.
Are those... tears?
Did I cry? While I was asleep, while I was dreaming.
That dream...
So that's it. Did I see Sensei's experiences?
Was she fighting against those kinds of monsters all alone?
Was she always gazing at that dull and oppressive realm of the deceased?
Immortal and unchanging, is it really that painful?
Sensei.
Scáthach.
You...
You...
You...
With a rustling sound, the curtains in the room are pulled open, and the montary alternation of light and darkness dilutes the sorrow in Shinji's heart.
By the window, at the tea table, wearing a high-necked sweater on top and cotton pants on the bottom, Scáthach, in her casual attire, rests her chin on her hand and quietly gazes at Shinji's face.
The sunlight that brings vitality to all things not only doesn't exclude the queen who resides in the realm of the dead but also makes her even more dazzling.
"Sensei." Shinji's voice carries unprecedented emotions. The dream revealed many things to him.
"I knocked on the door, didn't you hear?" Scáthach's expression is as calm as ever as if nothing had happened. "Get up quickly, Sakura is waiting for you to have breakfast."
"Okay."
Shinji rolls out of bed, but as soon as his feet touch the ground, he freezes. His gaze fixes on Scáthach's face, which is clean and devoid of any decoration.
"Sensei, your veil?"
"Why, do you care about it?" Scáthach clenches her left hand in the air, and a black veil conjured by magic appears in her hand.
"I do care, of course." Shinji nods repeatedly. "It would be better if you don't wear veils in the future."
"Seems like you don't want to hide my face," Scáthach sighed. "It's not like it's anything interesting... Are you saying you're quite fond of this appearance?"
"Of course, I've wanted to tell my Sensei for a long ti, I just didn't know how to bring it up. It's such a beautiful face, it's a sha to hide it."
Upon hearing Shinji's praise, Scáthach didn't react like an ordinary girl would, neither did she show happiness or dissatisfaction. She simply put away her veil and said, "Save those words for other girls. Now, get up and have breakfast."
Shinji still didn't leave his bed. He took a deep breath as if making a certain determination.
"Sensei, I want to fulfill your wish. I don't know how far I'll ultimately go, or if I'll reach the heights of those senior disciples you've taught, but I will try to beco stronger and seek a way to kill you. So, can you also have a little bit of expectation for ?"
That serious expression, that solemn attitude, had only appeared when he ford a contract with Justeaze.
At this mont, Shinji forgot that Scáthach had descended into the present world to seek death through the Holy Grail. Perhaps, in his subconscious, he had already assud that the Holy Grail couldn't kill this queen who existed outside of the world.
He, Matou Shinji, wanted her, Scáthach, to be liberated from eternal loneliness.
The perpetually downturned corners of Scáthach's mouth finally curled upwards, freezing into an incredibly stunning curve.
"Don't make wait until the world's end."
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