IBHJ 1401

The Golden Destroyer wasn’t dragging this out.

Riding the Void Worm like a war beast, he cut a straight path toward the Solar System. He’d seen it—the anchor point of this starfield. The beating heart. And Alaya had seen it too.

She threw everything at him.

Quantum shockwaves. Data bursts. Folds in time. Ruptures in dimensional symmetry. Every weapon the Universe could muster—fired in desperate succession.

None of it mattered.

He was absolute. A being of pure material law, immune to interference. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t slow. He broke through all of it and punched straight into the Milky Way.

“We can’t let him reach the core,” Gaia said flatly. “Divert the battle. Take it to Scutum.”

Her siblings responded without a word.

The name Scutum didn’t belong to this time, but with Shirou present, Gaia’s speech adapted—translated into something his mind could process.

While Alaya kept the Destroyer locked in combat, Gaia, Shirou, and the rest jumped 20,000 light-years in an instant—arriving in the Scutum Constellation.

They landed on a barren world scorched to its bones. In the distance, dominating the sky like a living furnace, hung a red giant.

Shirou recognized it.

UY Scuti.

A star with a volume billions of times greater than the Sun. Its heat flooded everything. Even from here, it felt like standing in the breath of a god.

If not for his Emperor form—and the layered protections granted by Gaia, the Mortal Vortex, and the Black Mud—his body would’ve crumbled the second they arrived.

“…This is probably it,” Gaia said, almost to herself. “Shirou.”

He turned.

“Remember what I told you,” she said. “Save your strength.”

He hesitated. Then his hand moved to the Arrow of Akasha, holding it close.

“I know,” he said. “I will.”

Gaia gave a faint smile. Then turned. “Hey, Venus.”

Venus glanced over, scowling. “What?”

“I actually quite like you.”

“…H-Huh?!” Venus blinked, stunned. It came out of nowhere.

Off to the side, Moon-chan shuffled awkwardly, fidgeting with her fingers.

Then—

A golden streak sliced across the darkness.

Origin Gaia’s smile vanished. “They’re here.”

“Charge!”

“Defend our starfield!”

The Origin Lifeforms answered in thunderous voice.

Luminous bodies surged toward the oncoming threat.

“Fools,” the Golden Destroyer muttered.

He stomped once on the Void Worm beneath him.

It opened its mouth—no jaw, no bone. Just a cosmic wound, a dimensional abyss that made black holes look quaint. This wasn’t a metaphor. It was a designed extinction engine—built to consume entire universes.

It did just that.

Dozens of Origin Lifeforms were swallowed whole in seconds—erased from time, law, and record.

But Shirou didn’t move.

He locked eyes with the Root Line inside the Void Worm’s body—across a gulf of stars—and with one clean strike—

Sshhht—

A being Alaya couldn’t destroy—even with full temporal erasure—was split down the middle. Black ichor burst into the vacuum like a shredded ink river, and the violence echoed backward through space, rattling solar winds on worlds that had never heard of war.

The Destroyer blinked.

“What…?”

His mount was gone. Instantly. Without fight. Just dead.

He stared at the scattering blood. His voice was quiet, almost thoughtful.

“…Root Kill?”

His gaze shifted—first to the wound in space, then to the Scutum starfield.

And then he moved.

Like a bullet fired by a collapsing galaxy, he surged toward them.

“ATTACK!” Gaia roared.

Saturn moved first, blade flashing as he stepped into the Destroyer’s path—his strike wide, meant to cleave him in half.

There was no clash.

No block. No counter.

Just silence.

Saturn’s body split without resistance. No scream. No trace. Not even data. Just absence.

Complete erasure.

Shirou moved to join the assault.

But the moment Saturn vanished—erased from existence—he felt something shift deep inside his Mortal Vortex.

No surge. No gift. Just… change.

A shape had been added. Its form altered. As if the cosmos had updated his body to reflect the reality of war.

—So it’s true.

He clenched his fists.

Then charged.

His Noble Phantasm could level stars. But against this—

It did nothing.

Not a scratch. Not a dent. Not even resistance.

Origin Gaia. Cosmic Alaya. The Origin Lifeforms. All of them wielded overwhelming force—laws pulled from the bones of the Universe.

It didn’t matter.

The Golden Destroyer stood untouched.

He had once served the Lord of Salvation—his strongest Servant, his blade. But that was before the First Cause touched him. Before he became the Golden Destroyer. Now he was something else.

A Perfect Material Lifeform.

The strongest existence beneath the First Cause.

But—

“I can see it!” Shirou shouted.

He wasn’t guessing. He wasn’t hoping. He saw it.

The Destroyer’s Root Line.

Unlike the Ideal King—who kept hers hidden, veiled and protected—the Destroyer’s was exposed. In plain view. As if daring the world to try.

Shirou struck—

Ssshhht—

His blade met the Root Line.

No effect.

No resistance.

The Golden Destroyer didn’t even blink.

“…Monster,” Shirou hissed, jaw clenched tight.

This wasn’t just a higher lifeform. It was something beyond rules. Even the Ideal King feared her Root Line being targeted—because even transcendence had limits.

But this thing?

It didn’t care.

It showed its Root Line—because even if it were cut, nothing would happen.

No collapse. No undoing.

That was the nature of a Perfect Material Lifeform. Immune to law. Immune to cosmology. Immune to the Root. Immune to divinity. Immune to time. Immune to meaning itself.

Absolute.

Eternal.

Unbreakable.

How had the ancient Origin Civilization ever won?

How do you kill the unkillable?

There was only one answer.

The First Cause War.

The Destroyer still said nothing.

He moved.

His blade tore through Mars—splitting him in two with no effort.

Then, with a single thrust, he pierced Jupiter through the skull.

He knew what had to be done.

Gaia’s Domain had to fall.

Only then would the Gate—the one stolen from the Golden Universe—reveal itself.

There was no alternative.

Only one world could survive. Either Gaia’s Domain… or the Golden Universe.

It wasn’t personal. It was law. A paradox dressed as prophecy. A righteous conspiracy preordained by survival instinct.

At this point, the conclusion wrote itself—

A battle to the death.

Saturn was gone. Mars, slain. Neptune, annihilated.

And with every fallen planet, Shirou felt it. Something inside him was stirring. No—not just stirring.

Rising.

The Vortex inside his body boiled and surged, its shape shifting again. Not growing stronger—but changing. Sharpening.

And now… he understood.

It had always been this.

Long ago, the Golden Universe had used its entire cosmic body as a leyline—fuel for the First Cause War. That was how the original Gate was born.

Later, their surviving researchers brought that Gate here. To this solar system. They began experiments. They formed a new structure. A replica.

The first eight planets, Mercury to Neptune, and Gaia herself.

Shirou saw it now.

Seven Masters. One Grail.

It wasn’t a coincidence. It was a ritual.

The experiments were never random. They were trying to remake the First Cause War. One more time. One more miracle.

But the plan didn’t last. Infighting broke out. The Golden Giants turned on each other. And Gaia led her siblings in rebellion.

They killed the rest.

Since then, Gaia’s Domain had fought two impossible wars.

The invasion of the Golden Universe.

And the war against the Lord of Salvation.

Both enemies stood beyond reason. Beyond scale.

And so Gaia chose the only path left.

Recreate the First Cause War. Win the miracle. Use it as a weapon.

Though born from the Golden Universe, Gaia’s Domain had caught up. Its science rivaled its origin. Its civilization matched its enemy.

If they could decode the Gate…

They could finish what the Golden Universe started.

And maybe—just maybe—win.