Fate: Abyss of the Heart

Shattered Bonds

Artoria steadied herself, her heart pounding as she faced the twisted figure of Vanitas, the darkness radiating from him suffocating and oppressive. Her mind raced, filled with questions, and she dared to speak the name that haunted them both. "Why? What happened to you, Shirou?"

A flicker of something crossed Vanitas' face—an emotion lost to the abyss. "I embraced the darkness and despair inside my heart," he replied, his voice a low growl, as if the words were a confession and a declaration all at once. There was no hint of the warmth she once recognized; his voice was laced with an unsettling finality.

"What about Kirits—" she began, desperate to grasp any shred of the connection they once shared.

Before she could finish her thought, Vanitas lunged, his movements a blur. A knife flashed through the air, and in an instant, it grazed her left cheek, drawing blood that trickled down her face. She flinched but did not step back, staring wide-eyed at the figure she once loved.

"Don't ever mention that bastard's name in front of me, Pendragon!" he spat, the fury in his voice reverberating through the barren landscape.

Artoria's heart sank at the hostility behind his words. "But Shirou, I thought you loved him..." The question hung in the air, a desperate plea for understanding, for the Shirou she knew to re-emerge from the depths of darkness.

"Love him?" Vanitas's eyes narrowed, his golden gaze cold as steel. "You're wrong, Pendragon. I don't love him; I don't hate him. I despise him!" His voice echoed with a chilling certainty, and she could feel the venom behind every syllable. "You and your master."

Artoria's brow furrowed in confusion at the mention of 'master.' A flicker of memory danced in her mind, but it was clouded and distant. 'My master? Shirou is my master,' she asserted, searching for a thread of logic in this chaotic moment. Her heart ached, trying to reconcile the reality before her with the man she had fought alongside.

"Ha," he scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping him. "You should know, after all. Your master was the one who planned to kill me and tried to take my command spell. By cutting my hand off and leaving me to die in that temple." He took a step closer, his presence suffocating. "You're a traitor, Pendragon. You dishonor your code as a knight. Maybe that's why you're a failure as a king."

His words struck her like a physical blow, and her heart felt heavy with the weight of his accusations. "What are you talking about?" she gasped, struggling to piece together the fragments of memories that began to surface. Her time in the Holy Grail War had been filled with chaos and confusion, but this Shirou—this Vanitas—was different, an enigma wrapped in layers of darkness.

"Who is my master?" she pressed, desperation lacing her voice. As she searched her memories, she caught glimpses of that other war, fleeting moments lost in the tumult. But one thing became painfully clear: this Shirou standing before her was not the Shirou she knew. This version belonged to a different world, a different Holy Grail War, and the truth twisted her gut.

With an annoyed expression, Vanitas replied, "That spoiled bitch, Tohsaka Rin."

The name struck her like a lightning bolt, igniting a flash of recognition. Tohsaka Rin—she remembered the rivalry, the competition for the Holy Grail. But this was a different timeline, a world where choices had led to different outcomes, and Vanitas was a product of those choices.

Artoria felt a shudder run through her as she realized the depth of his anger. He wasn't just a reflection of her own battles; he was the embodiment of the pain and betrayal she had fought against, a twisted version of the man she had come to trust. As he stood before her, she saw the shadows of all they had lost, and the weight of her past decisions crashed down upon her like a tidal wave.

"Shirou..." she whispered, the name trembling on her lips, but the warmth of their shared moments felt like a ghost, slipping further away with each passing second.