Grand Hope
I crashed into the wall of antigravity like a meteor. I could feel the curvature of spacetime trying to push me away. It was like trying to climb up a waterslide, except rivers' worth of water were gushing down on me.
Realspace blended with Voidspace as the God broke down the dimensional barriers that separate the two. Colors I've never seen before emerged and blended with the night sky. Its monstrous form made me wonder if this was a Beast.
No, couldn't be. At most, it's a larval Beast.
The God took a swipe at me. Its long and brittle hands, consisting of multiple fingers up and down the arms, cut through the air faster than I expected, moving so quickly they should be creating fire from the friction with the air. Yet it didn't. I flew above the swipe, above the God, high enough that I could see its body in full.
Its snake-like appearance. Despite appearing in this world, I couldn't see the end of its tail. That's still inside the wormhole. Was it simply an extension then? Since it still has a connection with the Limbo on the other side of the portal.
That's a frightening possibility. That this creature wasn't the actual God but more one of its many appendages, like a hand or even a finger equivalent.
I launched myself at the God once more. The world became a blur, details blending in with each other like an artist's paint palette. Once more, I was halted by a layer of antigravity. If gravity creates troughs that suck things in on the fabric of spacetime then antigravity creates hills that repel.
However, just like with normal gravity wells, one can plow through them if you're fast enough. Case in point.
The world around me burned with the speed at which I moved. It felt like I was near a black hole: immense differences in tidal forces were affecting my head and toes, enough that if I'd been anyone else, I'd have been spaghettified, turned into a chain of molecules.
I broke through the repelling force and out the other side, where I was then promptly boosted by the same wall of antigravity. It was like walking up a hill and then down again. I've now traveled past the peak, and the antigravity is now helping me.
I smashed into and through the God like an unbreakable bullet. A large chunk of the God's mid-section vanished, gorged out, bits and pieces scattering all across London in a shower of black gore. The faces on the God's body cried as if in pain, causing me to grimace.
Millions of voices, millions of cries, blending together into a single sound that exemplified pain. Misery in the truest degree. I could feel the cry banging at the door of my mind, trying to break in, yet unable to with the Company's Mental Defense at play. Yet even with the defenses, an ugly feeling settled within my heart.
I couldn't help but grimace, I didn't want to hit that God again, since doing so would mean I'd hear that cry once more—the cries of countless infants in agony.
From the wound emerged thousands of hands that entwined with each other like a snake's mating ritual. Faces— heads— squeezed out between the gaps of each arm like pimples, tens of thousands of them that reformed the Nameless God's skin.
"What a disgusting God. What a despicable deity." I announced as my magical power started to skyrocket, "To use children as collateral, to be the bane of bleeding hearts. I will grant you a quick death then, far better than you deserve.
A coat of greenness sheathed me, a beacon of the natural within this whirlwind of impossible colors, a region of space where the Unreal overlapped and merged with the Real. This surreal region where logic breaks down, where circles don't equal 360 degrees, where squares are triangles and triangles are pentagons.
I now stood taller than the Nameless God, though distance doesn't mean much in this dimensionless space. I reached out with a grab, but my movements were slow compared to those of a human.
Reality bled into ever-dividing fractals, an infinite descending staircase where all motion bleeds away, freezing me in place.
I rallied upon more of my energy, becoming less physical and more conceptual. I crept through the fractal space, even as countless infinitely sharp edges bit into my glowing green hands. I kept pushing through, and my hands decomposed into a finite number of infinitely complex geometric lines.
I tried to reform them, but from the stumps of my wrists bloomed a million fingers, each the same size. They overlapped with each other, making my hand look like a mace. It was an example of the Banach-Tarski paradox at play, an idea in mathematics wherein you can take an object, split it into pieces, and then rearrange those pieces to form two of the same objects.
This occurs because the broken-down pieces are non-measurable sets— they're so infinitely complex that they don't have a well-defined volume. This wasn't something that existed in reality, just in the imaginary world of theoretical mathematics.
The God has altered reality to such a point that an abstract in mathematics has left its imaginary realm and entered the Real.
If the spacetime surrounding me weren't as warped as it is, a black hole would've formed as my clump of fingers exceeded the Schwarzschild radius. I merged those million fingers back into the proper five, and dug into the hide of this God.
I gotta stop this thing before it kills all the humans in this Singularity.
______
Benedict knelt in front of the symbol of the cross. He lowered his head and clasped his hands together in a gesture of submission. Bathed in darkness, Benedict couldn't see anything else aside from what his lantern could show.
But it was more than enough for what he's doing.
"Dear God, I know that I am a sinner and there is nothing that I can do to save myself. I confess my complete helplessness to forgive my own sin or to work my way to heaven. At this—"
A rumbling coursed through the Church, causing the candle inside the lantern to flicker and light to dance. Dirt trickled down from the ceiling, reminding Benedict of just how poorly funded the Church had been up until recently, when the Angel Raphael had visited with the Messiah.
"At this moment, I trust Christ alone as the One who bore my sin when He died on the cross. I believe that He did all that will ever be necessary for me to stand in your holy presence."
In hindsight, Benedict thought perhaps it was obvious that the Rapture had arrived. It was said that the Messiah would come as a thief in the night, quietly, whereupon he would come for his people. What better 'thief', what better disguise than the fairer sex?
"I thank you that Christ was raised from the dead as a guarantee of my own resurrection. As best as I can, I now transfer my trust to—"
A second, stronger rumbling echoed through the Church. Even more dirt spilled from the ceiling, coating the benches in a layer of dust.
She was a charming girl, truly. Though a Father shouldn't rank other childrens, Benedict admits he would rank her the highest. Her innocence was almost picturesque, almost the ideal child.
Perhaps that's why Benedict didn't realize what was about to happen, that the Rapture had come.
"To Him. I am grateful that He has promised to receive me despite my many sins and failures. Father, I take you at your word. I thank you that I can face death now that you are my Savior."
And if the Rapture had indeed come, yet he's still here, then it only means he wasn't worthy. To be denied the eternal bliss of Heaven promised to all the faithful who followed the Messiah, one might feel anger, perhaps even hatred. But Benedict doesn't. The man knows he is not without sin.
Which is why he's using a Sinner's prayer.
"Thank you for the assurance that you will walk with me through the deep valley. Thank you for hearing this prayer. In Jesus' Name. Amen."
_______
Mash ran through the streets as Gods duked it out in the background. In her hands, she carried a most precious cargo—her Senpai. Zvezdnyy remained on the rooftop, looking ever more at the fight between Kukulkan and the Nameless God. The girl told them to find Artoria without her.
The group ran through the crumbling streets flanked by blackened or burnt-down buildings. Pieces of debris, some as large as a dining table, haphazardly littered the cobblestone road like trees in a forest. Everything reminded Ritsuka of the aftermath of a powerful tsunami, and as a Japanese person, he could say he's very familiar with tsunamis.
A rumbling echoed throughout the city. The clashes between the divine send forth ripples and earthquakes that threaten to collapse what little remains of London.
"Damn, with all the destruction the streets have become unrecognizable…" Ritsuka observed. London became an indiscernible mess of collapsed or burnt buildings.
*KISSSH*
Suddenly, Ritsuka's wristband came to life.
"—suka?! Ritsuka! Do you copy!?"
Ritsuka felt his heart almost jump out of his throat. He stared at the wristband as if it were an alien artifact.
"Director Olga?!" Mash was the first to reply. She stopped, and the group stayed still in the middle of an intersection flanked by half-collapsed townhouses.
"Oh, Mash, thank god we managed to get through. You guys have no idea how hard we've worked around the clock for weeks just to reestablish the connection." Olga said. Relief was prominent in her voice. "What's the current situation? We can't get too well of a reading with how distorted that Singularity has become."
"A God of Nihilism hath descended, O Stargazers," Nursery Rhyme said, "A paradox, is it not?"
A rumble coursed through the buildings around the group, causing dust and crumbs to fall from newly formed cracks that split open walls.
"A God of Nihilism…? Who's talking? Is that a new Servant you contracted, Ritsuka?" Olga asked through the wristband.
"Um, yes, Director. Her name is Nursery Rhyme." Ritsuka answered.
"There are no records of a God of Nihilism. Nihilism as a philosophy is a product of the Age of Man. No new Gods could possibly form in the Age of Man." Olga countered.
"'Tis as ancient as the first babe who perished unloved and cast aside. A monument it be, raised to mankind's boundless selfishness. Once more, a paradox, is it not? For nihilism is the void that followeth after God—so how can there be a God born of that godless void?" Nursery Rhyme said.
"What does this have to do with anything?" Olga interjected before Nursery Rhyme could go on another tangent.
The girl narrowed her eyes in displeasure. Another who won't entertain her. Ritsuka answered before Nursery Rhyme could say anything more, "We need to find Artoria, Director. Do you know where she is?"
"We can see Artoria's still inside the Singularity. What we can't see is where in the Singularity she is. Spacetime is so warped, LAPLACE gives incoherent answers as to her date and location." Olga replied.
Ritsuka gritted his teeth in frustration. The hope that roared into existence when he heard of Olga's voice dimmed like a fire that's burned through much of its fuel. But as the teen digested what Olga said, he noticed how the Director confirmed Artoria's still alive.
She's still alive, at least. Most likely wounded.
A curiosity bugged him. Although he's met most of his Servants, one that Ritsuka hadn't seen and should've been here was Archer. Where was Archer?
"Director, do you know what happened to Archer?" Ritsuka asked.
"He's here in Chaldea. He died on the first day to being shanked by a bunch of thugs for being ethnically African-looking. Though they said it in cruder words than that."
"…" Ritsuka had to take a moment to collect himself. A rumbling course once more through London, collapsing several homes around Ritsuka that sent tall towers of debris into the air.
"If thou seekest the King of Knights, then make thy way yonder," Nursery Rhyme said as she pointed down an alleyway.
Practically the next instant, Ritsuka found himself remembering how Nursery Rhyme had guided him to William, and that led to everything that happened. The sudden pain was followed by a loss of consciousness. The numbness that came after as William dragged him through the streets, madness in his eyes as he talked of annihilation.
"I don't trust you," Ritsuka said with eyes narrowed in suspicion, "How do I know you're not putting me in danger again?"
The strongest rumbling yet shook the city, causing already weakened structures to collapse. Ritsuka could scarcely stand the earthquakes.
Nursery Rhyme was completely unaffected. She stood still as if bolted to the ground, her hands clasped together. She tilted her head in what would've been an adorable manner if not for the context that surrounds her action. "'Don't trust me'? Master, thy Command Spell bindeth me to naught but truth—how is it thou still trustest me not?"
"Last time I trusted you, I almost died!" Ritsuka yelled and got up, "No, even worse than that; I was almost annihilated."
"Thou never wouldst have been annihilated—I would ne'er have suffer'd such a fate to come to pass. I wouldst have stepped in." Nursery Rhyme placed a hand over where her heart would be if she had one. Taking delicate steps, Nursery Rhyme approached Ritsuka, but Mash got between them.
Nursery Rhyme's words caused the gears in Ritsuka's mind to turn. He felt a chill run down his spine as the idea that Nursery Rhyme might somehow be the mastermind behind everything colored all other thoughts he could've had at that moment.
No… that's impossible.
Nursery Rhyme stopped, and leaned forward as if taking a bow, "I am a mirror to mankind. My name is Nursery Rhyme, for I am, in truth, a nursery rhyme made flesh. I am every picture book that e'er was inked, every fairy tale ever whispered by hearth or candlelight. I have seen far too many tales end in woe, each wrought to teach the young a harsh truth of this cruel world. Little Red, devourèd by the wolf, with no hunter to cleave her free. The Piper of Hamelin, who led the town's children into shadow, ne'er to return. And the Little Mermaid, dissolving into seafoam whilst her prince taketh another bride. I yearned for a different end. I longed to behold a fairy tale end not by sorrow—so I penned mine own, defying even the command of mine original summoner."
"Did you plan everything that Senpai had to go through?"
Nursery Rhyme shook her head. The doll-like girl turned to face the direction she had pointed to earlier.
"Nay— not all things. I wrought with what was there, and what there was did suffice aplenty to weave a new fairy tale—a tale to teach the young of the world's perils. The golden hope of Excalibur shall banish the despair sown by the forgotten goddess Çatalhöyük and the Crawling Chaos alike. Now go, mine own Master. Go, and seek the happy ending I have laid before thee." She said and pointed down the same alleyway as before.
Rather than doing that, Ritsuka asked, "Was this all a story to you? Did you foresee all this?"
"Does that make your journey any less real?" Nursery Rhyme countered. She left her usual way of speaking behind for the sake of clarity, "When you read a story, did it invalidate everything you've felt? Did it invalidate the love William held for you? Would you say that to his face?"
"... no. I fight for all that's beautiful. Even if my journey is meaningless, so long as there is beauty at the end, then it's all worth it." With those words, Ritsuka ran in the direction Nursery Rhyme pointed to.
"Let the curtains fall. Let the story end." Nursery Rhyme whispered.
The doll-like Servant didn't follow; she rather stayed still. Turning around, a tremor once more coursed throughout London, collapsing the frames of the few structures that remained standing. A battle between deities are like natural disasters upon the land. Piles of rubble surrounded her, clouds of dust and debris.
A bloody hand emerged from the dust. Followed by a body. The body looked heavily emaciated, half-digested even: mostly bones, with bleeding, devolved flesh covering it. It moved, dragging its entrails— its placenta— behind it. It grieved. The sound of its cry was soon joined by hundreds of others emerging from the dust.
The Orphans of the Nameless God had finally dug themselves out of the pile of stinking, boiling flesh.
Nursery Rhyme spoke as she did a small curtsy, "Allow me to apologize. You may wonder why I, of all people, decided to betray you. Both of us know just how terrible humanity really is. I know it because it's in my nature. You know it because you've experienced it. I desire a different ending. Too many times have I seen sorrowful conclusions. Allow me, then, to compensate you with one last dance, my good friend."
She didn't bother using her fancy words, for what purpose is there between two people who can relate to one another so closely?
The Orphans moaned.
Nursery Rhymes' form changed. She used her Shapeshift Skill to transform her arms into a pair of black scything blades— the Vorpal Sword, the same blade used to defeat the Jabberwocky.
_____
It didn't take long for Ritsuka to spot gold amidst the rubble. The carcasses of Beasts and Wombs were strewn about in several pieces around her.
"Artoria!" Ritsuka called out, "Artoria!"
Ritsuka ran up right next to the King of Knights. He looked up and down and saw how beaten up she was as the Servant lay upon a bed of debris in the ruin of a home. Dried blood crusted around her left eye, and fresher blood almost gushed from a wound on her abdomen.
She wore the same clothing when Ritsuka last saw her, but it was only more torn, and the teen had to avert his eyes to protect Artoria's modesty. The King of Knights had never looked more vulnerable than right now.
Ritsuka vaguely recalled that one shouldn't remove an arrow, as that would only exacerbate the bleeding. He quickly rid himself of such memories since he wasn't dealing with someone being struck by an arrow.
Artoria groaned as she opened her good eye. She tried to get up as any warrior would, even on the brink of death, only to hiss in pain as she clasped the open wound on her abdomen.
"Ritsuka," Artoria said with a neutral look on her face as if she wasn't wounded.
"Are you okay?" Ritsuka asked as he tried to help Artoria get up.
"I'll be fine. I just had to take a break, that's all. Those turned humans were almost on par with a Servant." Artoria said as she pushed Ritsuka away, wanting to stand on her own.
The moment the King of Knights laid her eyes upon the Nameless God fighting against a glowing green titan was when her mouth gaped. Her body leaned to one side before she caught herself. Normally, blood loss shouldn't seriously hinder a Servant, but this blood loss came from when she was restricted, so it's affecting her like she was a normal human.
"Artoria! Are you alright?" Mash asked.
"I'm fine, but what is that thing?" Artoria answered and pointed at the giant God in the distance.
The green titan reached over and ripped out the many wings on the back of the shapeless thing, only for countless hands, each of varying sizes, to spray out of the open wound, akin to a burst pipe. The Nameless God lost its previous dragon-like shape, becoming more like an amoeba as it endlessly regenerated from Kukulkan's attacks.
"... it'll take too long to explain it in full, so in short: it's a God of Despair. You can't beat it with pure physical force. I remember Da Vinci once called Excalibur the crystallization of the wishes of mankind. Hope incarnate. It's the only way to defeat it." Ritsuka explained.
Artoria's lips thinned. Rather than panic, magical energy concentrated around her frame as wind was suddenly swept up. The gale swirled around her, catching dust. The King of Knights reached out as if to grasp onto a pole to anchor herself in this whirlwind. In a flash of light, armor replaced her torn dress, her hand swung as if she held an invisible weight. Her eyes glanced at Ritsuka's right hand, finding the faded remnant of Command Spells.
"Master, I'm wounded, could you help me?" Artoria asked.
"Anything."
"The blood loss is making me woozy. Could you please stabilize me as I unleash Excalibur? I fear I may miss—"
Ritsuka stepped forward and held Artoria in place. He could feel the King of Knights placing her weight onto his body. Previously, Ritsuka might've felt embarrassed touching a woman as beautiful as Artoria, but right now, in the face of the Nameless God, embarrassment was the furthest thing on his mind.
Artoria raised both her arms, thrusting her hands into the air. A breeze blew through Ritsuka's hair as dawn arrived.
Excalibur revealed in full.
The darkness of this hopeless night was erased by the crystallization of the wishes of all mankind. The proof of the Human Order's legitimacy.
It was… beyond beautiful.
There were no words in the human lexicon capable of describing how beautiful Excalibur was. Bathed in its unbridled golden glow, Ritsuka found a weight lifted from his shoulder. He felt like he could breathe deeper, his steps lighter.
It was blinding how bright Excalibur was. Yet it didn't hurt. There wasn't any of the stabbing pain one might find when staring into the radiance of the sun. It was strange; Ritsuka could only feel majesty. The same majesty, the same grandeur, when viewing a video of the first Moon landing. That pride swelling within oneself that says 'we can do it'. It screams out into the void, refusing to be silenced. Even if such an act is the height of foolishness, even when such an act results in the same ending.
It was the stubbornness that propelled humanity into being the dominant lifeform on Earth. The proof that the future is beautiful enough to be worth fighting for.
Particles of light rose from the ruins around Artoria like seeds blown from a dandelion. Compelled by the light of Excalibur, those particles of light rallied to the holiest sword, akin to moths with a flame.
Within that holy light of hope, Ritsuka could almost feel his parents talking to him. He hugged Artoria tightly as if he were hugging his own parents. Was he crying? The teen didn't know as he could almost imagine himself talking with his mom and dad about all he's seen after working with Chaldea. All the sights he saw. All the wickedness and goodness he witnessed.
Suddenly, the whiteness filled his vision. Rubbing his eyes, Ritsuka found himself somewhere else. It was a dirty, run-down room. One corner held rolled-up blankets and bedsheets. Out the window was the slums of London.
He was back in Mary's home?
"Was it worth it?"
That was William. William stood in a corner far away from the center of the room. He stared at Ritsuka with a neutral expression.
"After everything you've seen, is humanity really worth it? Why not let a worthier race inherit the earth?"
Ritsuka prepared his answer with all of his experience. The first day. The racist cop. Mary inviting a pair of strangers into her home. The grueling factory work. The exhaustion at the end of each day. The Rat King. Kuku healing Willas. The dinner at Buckingham Palace. Iskander riled up the crowd into a riot. William's betrayal. Caroline saved him. Kuku's speech. Excalibur's light.
"Yes. Yes, humanity is shit. Yes, we've done all kinds of horrible, horrible things. But… there is a progression. Things are getting better, and the cause of that is human nature. I want to see the beauty of that human nature."
William gave a sad smile, "I wish I could be as optimistic as you are."
______
" Seeing the beacon of light sprouting from the edge of London, the Nameless God tried to move, to snuff out this hope with its overwhelming despair. The Sword of Promised Victory invoked something greater than even despair within the core of every human that comprised the Nameless God. The wilted seed of hope blossoming amidst all the despair, refusing to be choked out. "—CALIBUR!!!>" All there was were boundless light and hope. _____ AN: And so concludes the London Singularity. My god, this has been one hell of a journey. Took me half a year just to finish everything. Regarding Benedict, with how prevalent the trope of 'secretly evil priest' is, I thought that having an actually good priest would be more interesting.