Fate: Abyss of the Heart

A Broken King in the Cycle of Despair

Vanitas remained a figure of stillness before Artoria, a predatory calm enveloping him as he savored the despair that radiated from the once-mighty king of knights. His smile was twisted, filled with a malevolence that sent shivers down her spine. She could feel the hope within her slowly slipping away, like sand through her fingers, leaving her grasping at nothing but the chilling air of despair.

Artoria shifted her stance, searching for a position of strength, trying to summon the indomitable spirit that had defined her as a ruler and warrior. But just as she readied herself, she noticed the dark spear in Vanitas's hand, its jagged form glimmering ominously, and before she could react, it was thrusting toward her with terrifying speed.

The impact was brutal; she felt the spear strike her shoulder, the force tearing through flesh and splitting her entire arm along with her shoulder. Pain exploded through her senses, a searing agony that made her vision blur. But just as quickly as it had begun, the pain dissipated, and she found herself whole once more, her arm intact, the injury healed as if it had never existed.

Yet, before she could process the absurdity of her regeneration, a horrific reality unfolded. In an instant, she was split in half, her body severed from head to bottom, her lower half collapsing to the ground while her upper half remained upright, shock filling her thoughts. The sensation of dread gripped her as she witnessed her own dismembered form, the world around her shimmering and warping in a sickening display.

But as she stood there, bewildered, she found herself restored once again, every injury reversed as if time itself had rewound. How? She thought in a whirlwind of confusion. The answer eluded her, but her heart sank as she realized this was no ordinary confrontation.

Time and time again, this gruesome cycle repeated itself. Artoria felt the darkness envelop her as she was killed and resurrected over and over. Each time, she experienced the crushing pain of her body being torn apart, only to be healed moments later, as though Vanitas were a merciless puppeteer manipulating her fate for his amusement.

One. Two. Three. Four. Each death felt like a lifetime, but the cycle continued, a relentless march toward her inevitable doom.

Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Her mind spiraled deeper into despair as she lost count of the deaths. Each time she died, the memories of those moments seared into her mind like a brand. The sensation of her body being sliced, her essence fading, was haunting and horrifying.

Nineteen. Twenty. Twenty-one. Artoria's spirit felt heavy, weighed down by the knowledge that every death was a testament to her failure. She was a king, a protector of the realm, yet here she was, reduced to a mere plaything for Vanitas's amusement.

Thirty-seven. Thirty-eight. Thirty-nine. She tried to gather her thoughts, to understand what was happening. This isn't real. It can't be. But reality twisted and shifted around her, solidifying the nightmare she was trapped in.

Seventy-seven. Seventy-eight. The final strike sliced through her once more, and as her consciousness began to fade, Artoria felt an overwhelming surge of emotions welling up within her. Rage, sadness, despair—each feeling clashed within her heart like a storm. I will not be defeated! she screamed internally, yet it was swallowed by the void that surrounded her.

Then, as she found herself once more unscathed, the grim realization settled in. She had died seventy-eight times at the hands of Vanitas, and with each death, her will crumbled a little more.

The cycle of death and resurrection had stripped away her resolve, leaving her a husk of the powerful warrior she once was. As she stood there, shivering and trembling, she understood that Vanitas was not merely toying with her; he was feeding off her despair, using it as a weapon against her. The once unshakeable Artoria Pendragon was now a shadow of her former self, standing before an incarnation of everything she had hoped to protect but had now become her greatest nightmare.