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Haru sat on the sofa, looking at Kirei Kotomine, who knelt before him in a posture of prayer.
"I seek guidance, Lord," Kirei murmured, his face a mask of pious devotion, like a lost lamb seeking its shepherd.
Haru, thanks to his memories of the original Fate storyline and the information gleaned from Gaia and Alaya, knew Kirei's nature intimately.
The man held no secrets from him.
He knew of Kirei's twisted sense of morality, his inherent defect. What others found tragic, he found joyful. What others found repulsive, he found beautiful.
But his father, Risei, had instilled in him a more conventional set of values, befitting a man of the cloth.
This conflict, this constant struggle between his desires and his ingrained beliefs, had left Kirei lost and confused, a puppet acting without true purpose.
Kirei was a double-edged sword.
He craved the misfortune of others, even Haru's, but his power was insignificant, unable to even scratch Haru.
Therefore, to Haru, he was simply a tool a very sharp tool!
Kirei's desire for others' suffering, unable to be directed at Haru, would naturally find other targets—Kiritsugu Emiya, Tokiomi Tohsaka. And that was precisely what Haru wanted.
In a way, he and Kirei were similar, both finding amusement in the misfortune of others.
The difference was, Haru preferred to see his enemies suffer.
"There's no need for this performance, Kirei. You don't truly believe in me," Haru said with a smile, his words a subtle attempt to redirect Kirei's focus.
Kirei rose, his expression unchanging.
He wasn't surprised that Haru had seen through his facade. After all, this was a being who claimed omniscience.
"You desire happiness. But the happiness you seek—it conflicts with the happiness your father taught you. You're lost, aren't you?" Haru's voice was gentle, almost—kind.
Kirei's body stiffened, his eyes flickering. "Yes," he admitted, his voice low.
"Your definition of 'happiness' is unique," Haru said, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Kirei's eyes narrowed. He felt exposed, as if Haru could see into his very soul.
"The suffering of others brings you joy. Especially when you're the cause of that suffering," Haru continued, his eyes narrowed slightly.
Kirei nodded, knowing that any denial would be meaningless before this God.
"You're intrigued by Kiritsugu Emiya. You see him as a kindred spirit?..."
"Yes. He brings misfortune to others. He damaged Kayneth, robbing him of his magecraft. He uses a knightly Servant as an assassin, a disgrace to the code of chivalry," Kirei said, a hint of admiration in his voice. That was how he saw Emiya—a bringer of suffering.
"And what if I told you he does all that for the sake of world peace?..."
"W-what do you mean?" Kirei's eyes widened in shock.
"He sacrifices the few for the many. His ultimate goal is to obtain the Grail and wish for a world without war, without tragedy." Haru shrugged.
Haru found the notion naive. And yet, Emiya was willing to sacrifice everything—his father, his mother, his wife—for this dream.
"What does he think he is? A savior?..." Kirei laughed, tears streaming down his face. Anyone with a shred of common sense knew that war stemmed from conflicting ideologies.
To eradicate war, one would have to eradicate thought itself. What happiness could there be in a world of mindless drones?
Haru, looking at Kirei's tearful yet cold expression, said, "What do you want to do to him? Tell me. Don't hold back."
"I want to see his dream shattered at the very moment of its fulfillment. I want to see the look of despair on his face—as everything he's worked for turns to ash..."
"I see. You've finally found yourself, haven't you?" A cruel smile spread across Haru's face.
"Yes. I want to build my happiness on his suffering," Kirei said, his voice filled with a newfound certainty. The confusion that had plagued him for so long—it was gone.
"Guide me, Lord. Show me the path to this joy..." He prostrated himself on the floor, his face alight with a fervent zeal.
Haru nodded in satisfaction.
On the outskirts of Fuyuki City, in a modest two-story house.
In a second-floor bedroom, Waver Velvet slept soundly.
"The man who would be my Master should be a warrior, boy, fighting by my side, not some coward hiding in the shadows!" Rider's booming voice echoed in Waver's dreams.
Waver's eyes snapped open. "What...?"
Then, he smiled, rubbing the back of his head. "Just a dream..."
"But my dream of participating in the Holy Grail War it came true..." His greatest desire had always been to have his talent recognized.
And Rider's praise of his courage last night it had filled Waver with a joy he couldn't contain. Even in his dreams, he replayed Rider's words, savoring the moment.
"What dream came true?" A deep voice—Rider's voice sounded from beside him.
"...." Waver turned to see Rider, Iskandar, sitting up in bed beside him.
"Put some pants on!" Waver yelled, staring at Rider, who wore a white t-shirt with a print of a world map, his lower body bare.
"Oh, right." Rider grabbed a pair of shorts and quickly put them on.
"Why do you insist on wearing modern clothes? I even had to buy you those! You could just use your magical energy to create whatever you want," Waver said, exasperated.
"Because it makes me feel alive," Rider replied with a hearty laugh.
"Huh...?" Waver looked at him, confused.
"Alright, boy. I've finished replenishing my magical energy, and it's time to go. Let's move." Rider looked towards the window, where the sun was beginning to set.
Inside Einzbern Castle, a figure slowly opened a door.
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