"Miss Illya? Is Miss Illya here..."
The call of the front desk attendant was interrupted by a deep and hurried voice.
"Please hand me the roster."
Without using any magecraft, the man's expression was so terrifyingly hollow that the front desk attendant's will was easily crushed. He blankly handed over the roster.
Kiritsugu snatched it up, flipping through it quickly, and stopped at a painfully familiar name.
[Illyasviel von Einzbern]
1986... Kiritsugu's fingers began to tremble.
He remembered, he vividly remembered—Illyasviel, his daughter, was born on a frigid night in 1986.
But how could she possibly be here? All the way from the distant Winter Castle?
Handing the roster back to the desk attendant, Kiritsugu looked towards the direction of the Hyatt Hotel, and closed his eyes, as though making a decision.
Then, he took a step forward.
If his daughter was indeed in this deadly building, then as a father, it was his duty to rush in and save her.
That was the plain truth.
But this man, in the face of fatherly love, had even more important burdens to bear—
On the path to becoming a "father," the thorns of "ideals" made every step painful.
His legs trembled, and with each step, he took towards the hotel, his heart wavered more. The calm expression on his face deepened in cracks.
It seemed that with every step, he betrayed his own wishes and his ideals.
"Norikata Emiya, is Norikata Emiya here?"
The desk attendant continued calling out. His voice, coming from somewhere distant, felt faint, as though it was drifting from some far-off place, making Kiritsugu feel light-headed, as though walking in the clouds.
The magus obsessed with time manipulation was ultimately acknowledged with a Sealing Designation.
The father developed the Dead Apostle conversation drug, using ordinary people as test subjects.
He still remembered the feeling of the knife piercing the magus's body. That was the first time he picked up a gun— to end his father's life for good.
The scars of the past were torn open again, but that soul-crushing pain was what kept Kiritsugu moving forward.
"Shirley, is Miss Shirley here?"
The wound bled again.
"What kind of person do you want to be when you grow up?"
The Southeast Asian girl with brown skin smiled brightly, a smile that held Kiritsugu's first love.
But she was dead. After taking the Dead Apostle drug developed by Norikata, she was exterminated by the Church and the Mage's Association.
The ghoulified girl handed Kiritsugu a silver dagger, begging him to end her life.
But Kiritsugu shamefully fled.
Because he failed to kill the girl he loved, the whole village fell—this disaster defined the value system that shaped the life of the man known as Kiritsugu Emiya, the Magus Killer.
"Natalia, Miss Natalia, is Miss Natalia here?"
This time, the man finally stopped.
The crack in his heart no longer bled; the wind blew, creating an echo that seemed hollow.
After the ghoulified village was wiped out, the bounty hunter who took him in, Natalia.
She had been by Kiritsugu's side throughout his youth, watching him transform from a boy into a sombre, cold-hearted hunter.
In their final mission, to eliminate the demonic bees aboard the plane, Kiritsugu used an anti-aircraft missile, shooting down the plane before it landed.
Even though on that flight was his most beloved teacher, a woman he had spent more than ten years with.
It was only after countless restless nights that Kiritsugu realized what he had truly lost.
—He had long regarded Natalia as his mother.
"Strange, Norikata Emiya, Shirley, Natalia... None of them are here?"
Because I killed them all.
The ghosts of the past reached out their hands to pull him into an unfathomable abyss.
The slender man stood amidst the crowd, looking so alone and about to collapse.
They are all dead. How could they possibly be in this hotel?
Everything, everything could only be some malicious mockery from someone, or perhaps a setup to slow him down.
But despite knowing this, Kiritsugu couldn't change anything. He had made himself the scale to measure good and evil, but one side of the scale kept being weighed down with heavy weights, while the other side was pressed down by the man himself.
The creaking noise—what was it but the scale itself?
One name after another became hidden suggestions, as though foretelling some tragic ending.
"Irisviel, Miss Irisviel von Einzbern? Is Miss Irisviel here?"
The grim reaper flipped through the roster and slowly spoke the next name.
Even the woman he loved would be killed by his own hands...
A voice as sweet as honey echoed from behind Kiritsugu. Irisviel, cupping her cheeks, looked puzzled with red eyes.
"Strange, I didn't book a room at the Hyatt Hotel. But this is my name. Hmm, could there have been a mistake?"
As if noticing Kiritsugu's incredulous gaze, the beautiful woman stuck out her tongue and, with a slightly embarrassed gesture, clasped her hands together.
"Sorry, Kiritsugu. In the end, I couldn't resist running over here."
Standing beside her, Saber stepped forward.
"It wasn't Irisviel's fault. I acted on my own. The mistake should fall on me."
But at that moment, Kiritsugu wasn't paying attention to this. He looked at the woman he loved, and his dead eyes flickered with a faint light.
In the astonished gaze of Saber and Irisviel, Kiritsugu took a step forward, opened his arms, and embraced his wife.
In this cold and merciless world, she was one of his last remaining ties to warmth.
After a long while, a muffled voice emerged.
Artoria raised an eyebrow, her ahoge swaying slightly.
This was the only time her master thanked her, but Saber didn't feel happy at all.
Her instincts told her what bitter sorrow and tears lay hidden in that gratitude.
What had this man… really gone through in the past?
Meanwhile, Irisviel had also sensed something was off with Kiritsugu.
They had shared brief embraces before, but each time, her husband seemed to suppress his emotions, as though afraid he would lose himself in something.
But this was the first time he embraced her without holding back, resting in her arms.
Kiritsugu was fragile now.
With her unique sensitivity as a homunculus, Irisviel quickly concluded this.
Unlike the time when Illyasviel was born, and he painfully said, "I'm not worthy of holding this child," that fragility had been firm—it was the pain caused by the fact that the one known as "Kiritsugu Emiya" knew what would happen in the future, yet felt powerless to prevent it.
But this time, the fragility was hollow, shattered, as though even the meaning of his own existence had been denied—despair.
And because of that, it was all the more profound.
"If I decide to abandon everything and run away now—Iri, would you come with me?"
After a brief moment of warmth, the man raised his head and asked a question.
A question that left Irisviel frozen in place.
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