The Death of Shadows

The battlefield was on the edge of collapse.

Foreigner's Noble Phantasm had fractured reality itself, and though her monolith bore deep, jagged cracks, she was still standing.

A lesser foe would have faltered. A lesser being would have recoiled from the twin Noble Phantasms that had just struck her.

But Foreigner was something beyond comprehension.

She did not stagger. She did not kneel.

She simply existed—an unshaken force, untouched by the very concept of destruction.

Until now.

Lucian gritted his teeth. His knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists, feeling the weight of his Command Seals thrumming on his skin.

Lancer—Black Gold Saw—stood tall beside him, her red eyes glinting like embers in the abyss. The battlefield's shifting darkness was reflected in the steel of her greatsword.

Foreigner's gaze swept across them, her expression unreadable. The cracks in her monolith pulsed, the corruption trying to undo the damage Archer and Berserker had inflicted.

It was a fleeting window—but a window nonetheless.

Someone had to act before it was too late.

And that someone…

Was Assassin.

---

There was no warning.

No movement.

No sound.

One moment, Assassin was nowhere.

The next—she was at Foreigner's monolith.

A blade flashed in the darkness, aiming for the wound in the great structure—the point where reality itself had begun to weaken.

Foreigner's eyes narrowed.

A third arm of abyssal blackness erupted from her back.

It impaled Assassin through the chest.

Lucian's breath caught in his throat.

For a moment, no one moved.

No one spoke.

Assassin glanced down at the tendril of nothingness that had pierced her, sinking through her ribs like liquid shadow.

Her body trembled.

Her blade had still not finished its arc.

Her fingers tightened.

And—

She cut.

The monolith fractured further, the wound splitting open.

The battlefield shook.

Foreigner reacted immediately, her third arm twisting in an unnatural motion.

And ripped Assassin apart.

Her body shattered.

Not like a human.

Not like a Servant.

But like something being erased from existence itself.

She never hit the ground.

There was no body left to fall.

Lucian's chest tightened. The weight of her presence vanished from the war entirely.

A heartbeat later—somewhere in the distance—her Master's Command Seals burned away.

It was over.

---

Lancer's grip on her sword tightened. Her crimson eyes locked onto Foreigner, burning.

"She gave us a chance," she murmured. "We take it."

Lucian nodded, forcing himself to push forward.

Assassin was dead.

They could not let her sacrifice mean nothing.

Foreigner studied them now, her expression shifting slightly.

Where before there had been nothing but indifference—

Now, there was something else.

A slow, creeping disdain.

"You insects do not learn," she said quietly.

The battlefield shuddered.

Her monolith trembled, its cracks still spreading, but it refused to fall.

Foreigner lifted a hand.

Reality twisted.

And the battle continued.

---

To Be Continued…