Degradation(Translated)

Chapter 1

'Where had I seen it before?' His eyes wandered around the Surroundings, Looking, Surveying As if awaiting an answer.

Right

'It almost seemed ironic that he was called the champion of justice when he condemned a world, or at least that was what everyone thought; he could feel it, as his instincts burned him at that time, but it was no longer something to worry about or even think about. The contract is still at the foot as always; soon I will return'.

The sand that flew everywhere in the desert fell on all sides, adorning the landscape covered with swords as if it were something that could be worthy of admiration. That scene could be considered beautiful to some extent, but for him, it only meant something.

Abandonment; each sword, a story, and a tomb that showed how many people had fallen under its blade.

The desolation of not having had anyone else with him as everyone died around him, the broken promise with his father, the friend he could not protect, and the world he managed to save in exchange for his life and those of thousands, millions, and billions.

Champion of justice?

Perhaps his counterpart would be called that; even the reality he had been in could be considered more Shirou Emiya than he was at the time.

(Unchecked)

Wasn't it supposed to be the same?

A little laugh escaped from his mouth while the landscape was broken little by little, it is not as if he cared, once that desert freezes in its entirety he would no longer be in this world, it is not as if he deserved to even be in another world, being that he was the main antagonist of humanity.

But that was worth it, he let some get their happy ending, except for those who could not, their voices in songs hovered around his head like a requiem that would not stop in all eternity.

After losing everything and only being left with the only motivation to live, he no longer cared about the following years, he as everyone wanted his head, how he had to kill and kill incessantly, he as everything went against him...

Resulting in his hands being more stained than those wandering and human heroic spirits, he hated himself, but after so long doing the same thing over and over again.

Naturally one could grab the taste of things.

I snort seeing the small cloud of steam that came out of his mouth, the swords he had on his back were comfortable in that situation, he had all the power he wanted, he could protect everything right now, but there was nothing to protect.

The only consolation he had left was that what was left of his loved ones would not be used and that the company he won was the best he could wish for them, he no longer needed that lying older brother, that murderer who without a second thought would erase someone.

Now they had good influence to be with, that gave him peace and could make him smile at least partially.

Questions haunted his head.

What if his adoptive father hadn't died like in that world?

If I had had Illya from the beginning?