IBHJ 1413

Upon that unnamed star, where boundless light celebrated in silence, a lone figure slowly rose to his feet.

His body glowed with a radiance that outshone galaxies, yet there was something profoundly human about him—gentle, calm, enduring.

The Lord of Salvation trembled as he screamed, backing away instinctively. "You're not Fujimaru Shirou... you're not the Azure Destruction... and you're no transcendent either—what... what are you!?"

Terror gripped him.

This figure—this being—was the only one he could not touch. The only one he could not pull into himself. No matter how much he tried to reach, this one remained beyond him. Beyond assimilation. Beyond unity.

The glowing man turned, his gaze locking onto the panicked Root Evil. "I'm just someone who longed for an ordinary happiness,” he said quietly. “But fate kept twisting the knife—again and again. Grief, separation, pain..."

He took a step toward the Root Evil. "You ask who I am? Don’t you see it yet?”

His eyes shimmered. “I’m not Fujimaru Shirou. I’m not Evil, and I’m not some exalted being. I’m just a person who wanted to live a peaceful life... and yet, I was forced—by circumstance, by history, by necessity—to become a savior."

The Root Evil shuddered. The Lord of Salvation screamed, "You—you—who are you!?"

The figure gave a faint, peaceful smile.

"The Savior of Light," he said. "Akasha."

The Lord of Salvation shrieked like a beast cornered. “No—NO! This isn’t possible! You can’t exist! DIE—DIE—!!!”

The Root Evil surged with desperate rage, sending a monstrous flood of darkness straight toward Akasha.

But before it could reach him, Akasha simply lifted his head, looked directly into the torrent of madness, and whispered. "My name is Akasha. Disappear, Evil."

And with that—

A blinding explosion of light burst from every part of him. Each beam that emerged wasn’t just illumination—it was the birth and end of infinite realities. Countless universes flashed into existence and were undone in the blink of an eye.

The wave of Root Evil met that light—

—and vanished.

Not reduced, not destroyed.

Gone. Completely erased.

"A—ka—sha—!!!" came the final, hollow cry.

And then silence. The Root Evil had ceased to be.

Akasha stood alone, his glow softening. He turned his eyes across the vast, newly freed universe.

"So this... this is what I look like," he murmured.

The Root had always longed to see itself, to understand what it truly was. But it could never reflect upon itself—only peer through the eyes of others.

Now, finally, it had form. A name. An identity.

Akasha lifted his hand, and the light surrounding him began to draw inward.

The destruction reversed.

What had once been lost and assimilated was restored. What had been reduced to nothing regained its form. Every life, every world, every voice returned.

All of existence fell back into its proper shape.

All except for one thing.

Akasha remained. The Root was gone. He had taken its place.

In that moment, Mordred stepped closer, face pale and fists clenched at her sides.

"You... you—" She paused, visibly shaking, then gritted her teeth and demanded, "What did you do to my father?"

The Grail beside her froze in horror. How could she speak so brazenly? This was Akasha—the one who had unmade the Root Evil with a single word.

Akasha turned gently toward her. With no trace of anger, he stepped in front of her, looked her in the eyes, and raised a hand.

He patted her head.

"Silly child..." he said with a soft chuckle. "Isn’t that exactly who I am?"

The endless light around them began to pull together, shrinking little by little—

—and from within it, a familiar figure slowly came into view.

Shirou.

…

"Shirou!"

"Shirou!"

Voices rang out in relief and joy. People turned to him, faces lit with happiness.

Shirou smiled. "Yes... I’m back."

After the rush of joyful greetings, he turned his head slightly and gazed at the wide, shining universe beyond.

"Thank you," he murmured. "My other half."

And with that quiet moment, the final battle came to a close.

The Savior of Light—Akasha—had undone the unthinkable. Everything had been restored. Even the memories of the Root Evil and Connection points had been gently erased from people’s minds, just in case.

What mattered most now was clear: under the completed protection of cosmic Alaya, Pan-Human History had a future again. A path lay ahead, stretching toward the vast expanse of the Azure Universe.

Of course, not everything was resolved. One major issue still remained—

With all Heroic Spirits now transformed into Cosmic Heroic Spirits, able to move freely without limits, it was only a matter of time before trouble started. If nothing was done, their power alone could bring about disaster.

But that wasn’t Shirou’s problem anymore.

That chapter of his life was over.

What mattered to him now—

was holding onto his happiness.

And right now, he was busy preparing for his wedding.

…

In the Cosmic Era.

A young girl sat cross-legged on a cushion, flipping through the pages of a weathered diary with deep interest. The handwriting inside belonged to the mysterious male protagonist known only as T—

But in truth, it was the diary of Fujimaru Shirou himself.

Just as she reached the final page, a small hand suddenly swooped in and snatched the book away.

"Aha! Got you!"

Standing before her was a snow-haired little girl, hands planted firmly on her hips, trying her best to look stern despite her puffed-up cheeks and adorably serious expression.

"Big sister, you were totally sneaking a peek at Dad’s diary!"

The girl froze. Uh-oh. Cold sweat trickled down her neck.

"Um, Mirai-chan," she said quickly, forcing a bright smile, "why don’t we read it together, hmm?"

Mirai narrowed her eyes in judgment. "No way! Mama and Mama Vivian both said peeking at someone else’s diary is rude!"

Mama and Mama Vivian?

The girl blinked. What kind of family setup was that? Wait... hold on a second—

"Um, Mirai, just how many mothers do you have?"

"Seven!" Mirai answered proudly, raising a finger with each count. "And I have six older sisters, three older brothers, and one little brother who just learned how to walk!"

The girl raised an eyebrow. "That many?"

Mirai shrugged. "I guess? Oh! My eldest sister is Mordred, and my second sister is—"

"Wait—wait!" The girl nearly choked. "Mordred? The Mordred? As in the captain of the Cosmic Defense Force!?"

Mirai tilted her head. "Yeah. Sister Mordred’s doing that kind of job."

The girl’s jaw hung open. Had she just committed intergalactic-level diary theft in front of a VIP’s kid?

Mirai hugged the diary to her chest. "I’m definitely telling Dad you were sneaking around!"

She turned to go, but the girl lunged forward and grabbed her by the sleeve.

"One piece of candy if you don’t tell!"

"Nope!" Mirai replied, puffing up again. "Mama Morgan says if someone gives you things for no reason, they’re probably a scoundrel or a thief!"

Girl: "..."

"Ten candies."

Mirai started counting on her fingers... and still shook her head. "Uh-uh."

"One hundred."

"...Mmm... n-no."

The girl sighed in defeat and pointed at the diary. "Okay, how about this—don’t you want to know how your dad managed to marry all seven of your moms?"

"Um..." Mirai hesitated. “Well…”

Before she could finish her thought, the girl had already flipped the diary open again.

Mirai hovered for a moment—then took a small step closer.

And another.

She peeked over the girl's shoulder.

"...Fine. But only a little bit," she mumbled.

The two sat together, side by side, as the tale of Fujimaru Shirou and his seven wives quietly began.