There's a saying: the world is a great web—pull one thread, and the entire structure shifts.
And yet, there's another saying: when the sky falls, the tall ones hold it up.
From a microscopic perspective, the vast majority of living beings (not just humans) live their entire lives without ever breaching the barriers of parallel worlds—many never even wander far from where they were born.
The sorrows and joys of different people do not connect. Disasters that occur beyond one's immediate circle, if they don't disrupt daily life, are often merely mourned in passing before life resumes as usual.
Let alone tragedies in different countries, different species, or different parallel worlds.
The gods, relocated to higher dimensions after the end of the Age of Gods, can of course see the tragedies happening beyond their own domains.
Chaldea had exhausted itself trying to stop Goetia's incineration of human history—fighting to save their own world's humanity. Their efforts were indeed worthy of praise. Yes, truly.
But still—among the many transcendent beings capable of perceiving parallel worlds—how many chose to intervene? How many descended to help?
Take the arrival of the Jewel Marshal, Zelretch. Would he have acted had Selene not crossed a line—posing a threat to the entire multiverse born from the Swirl of the Root? Likely not.
After all, Goetia's incineration only threatened this one universe and its derivative parallel worlds—not the entirety of the Type-Moon world. He never had the power to burn away the whole of human history. At most, he could destroy Earth's human race in this single universe (Fate/Grand Order).
To put it bluntly, even if Earth exploded, it would be but a drop in the vast sea of the Type-Moon world. For every universe that dies, another is born from the Swirl of the Root.
Of course, all of that is now ancient history.
Under the threat of an external enemy, for the first time, the countless parallel universes have united. While defending their own worlds from the invading Imperial Army, unprecedented multiversal coalitions have been formed.
Crossing the once-impermeable boundaries between worlds, these alliances are heading to the anchor worlds and universes spawned from the Swirl of the Root's "main currents." These locations—being the closest to the Root—have naturally become Selene's primary targets.
As for the countless "tributary worlds" born of the Swirl of the Root? They'll be left to stall as long as they can.... A desperate, sacrificial tactic.
Losing the tributaries may cause pain and quantitative loss—but if even a part of the main currents are corrupted, the damage becomes qualitative. A devastating blow to the system itself.
This is especially critical now that the Swirl of the Root is pouring all its strength into supporting the primordial cosmic goddess—Ashtart. With every world she oversees that is corrupted, the Root's suppression over Selene weakens.
As the enemy advances, the Root must retreat. Selene's gain is the Root's loss.
Though the Root has no direct consciousness, its immense scale allows for only one form of primal defense: self-preservation through assimilation.
Aside from that, its few defensive mechanisms are limited to: manifesting universal disasters, discarding or recycling doomed or risky worlds, or selecting agents—lifeforms imbued with the authority of heaven and earth.
Yes, many intelligent beings over the eons have sought the Root. Most were assimilated. But the principle remains.
Even without a will, the Swirl of the Root can instinctively sense the malice emanating from Selene—the predatory instinct of a natural enemy.
Let her inside?
That would be like releasing a rat into a grain silo.
The Swirl of the Root will not gamble its own existence. Perhaps the parallel worlds born of it could persist, but the Root itself... would be consumed to the last drop.
Perhaps it's not entirely accurate—but this was the feeling the Swirl of the Root experienced when Selene's true body approached: the aura of destruction clinging to her revealed she'd done this before.
As it happened, the world where Chaldea's Antarctic base was located was one of the main-current worlds born directly from the Swirl of the Root.
At that very moment, the horizon—visible to the naked eye—was blanketed by writhing, pulsating Honkai corruption veining across the sky, glowing with an eerie luster. When Selene sounded the trumpet of apocalypse from the final singularity beyond the world's boundaries, the world trembled.
And soon followed—the divine drums of the Sacred Selene Empire.
They swept through near-Earth orbit, then surged across the continents, the archipelagos, and at last, reached the Antarctic—Chaldea's final refuge.
BOOOOOM—!
The sound of cannon fire shook the earth. Within Chaldea's control room, piercing alarms blared as the model of the pseudo-Earth environment—Chaldeas—turned from red to near-black.
On dimming screens, the ashen faces of staff were reflected.
"Are those... dragons?!"
"And fairies—forest and lake varieties!"
"Confirmed: full-scale assault across the globe."
"The enemy is descending from the sky... from outer space!"
"Sangheili detected—among the invaders are numerous alien species... there are too many to categorize."
Operating the console with numb fingers, one staff member's expression flickered in terror. "Their movements—military precision. The invaders... they were once human!"
"Humans?!"
Bang!
"Enough! Human or not, it doesn't matter! Selene is humanoid. Of course there are humans among the enemy ranks."
Da Vinci's gloved hand slammed the console. Seated at the central command throne, her voice rang out:
"They may look like us, but their thoughts, culture, and history are completely foreign. Don't expect mercy!"
The good news: Goetia was dead. Lev was dead. The incineration of humanity had been stopped. Human history had been restored.
The bad news? A far greater catastrophe had arrived.
Onscreen, war machines descended like a storm upon the Earth's surface. Even Da Vinci clutched her forehead, dizzy from the sight.
This wasn't the awe of Solomon's magic, nor the majesty of Heroic Spirits or gods—this was war. Human civilization's machines of annihilation. A cold, industrial terror.
The vast Antarctic plains stretched toward the horizon—once pristine, now desecrated.
That tranquility had been shattered by fire.
The endless white plains cracked open. From the Sea of Stars emerged a horde of fantastical beasts: fae, dragons, magical creatures—roaring and charging like a tidal wave into the descending machines.
Among them, the lights of summoned Heroic Spirits flickered again and again.
Da Vinci knew—the Throne of Heroes's spirits were descending voluntarily now. Their mana was being drawn from Earth's leylines.
Could they stop it?
Click-click-click-click—!
Metal joints rotated, gears howled in fury. Hydraulic pistons thundered with the beauty of heavy industry.
Drop pods, assault shuttles, heavy tanks, auto-turrets, various titan mechs—
CLANG CLANG—!
Beneath the twin-headed eagle of the Empire, their soldiers stormed ashore with ruthless efficiency. They trampled upon this last pristine expanse of Earth, staining its white snows in filth and war.
The tracks of war machines tore through the frozen soil, kicking up clouds of choking dust. Imperial soldiers roared, beams lit up the air, cartridges clattered to the ground, explosive rounds thundered from barrels, and the arcs of energy on their power swords blazed. Chainswords shrieked hungrily.
Soon, Antarctica's freezing cold would be driven away by searing heat—literal heat. The black mouths of steel cannons glowed from within as internal coils surged with incandescent energy. Scarlet beams swelled and burst outward—
BOOOOM—!
As if responding to a battle cry, beams of light—like suns descending upon Earth—blazed across the long-frozen polar lands, igniting snow and sky alike into a tempest of fire.
...
At the same time—Bzzz!—
A dazzling, gem-like teleportation gate bloomed into being. Thanks to Zelretch's portal and the Swirl of the Root's full cooperation, a floating garden—reminiscent of Assyrian and Babylonian architecture—appeared above Chaldea's ring-shaped facility.
"This is...!" Mash immediately rushed to the translucent observation window, disbelief painting her expression. Was this still the Chaldea she knew?
Moments later, Mash clutched her mouth and collapsed to the floor, retching.
"An army...? But is that... a hybrid force of humans, machines, and aliens?" Waver's face turned pale as he stared wide-eyed at the sight.
Metal and fire filled the landscape. The snow-covered mountains had revealed their true forms beneath the bombardment. Even avalanches had been evaporated.
Gaping craters dotted the terrain, scorched by relentless shelling. The snow was gone, exposing the frozen earth. Corpses littered the field—some dying beasts howled at the sky, others snarled in fury. One dragon's chest had been blasted open, ribs jutting out grotesquely; a wolf was cleaved in half; a tiger decapitated...
Towering armored warriors and disciplined troops methodically crushed the resistance from the Sea of Stars.
Bloodied heads hung from belts—a terrifying sight.
The land itself had been shredded by titanic mechs. Any resistance was ground into the soil. Chainswords pulled from corpses, dripping with blood, became even more fearsome.
"Astartes... and the Imperial Guard."
As participants of the Romanian Holy Grail War, Avicebron and Semiramis recognized them. Formerly allies or enemies of Selene, this sight was all too familiar.
"Astartes?" Waver asked in confusion.
Semiramis snapped her fingers. Giant screens appeared in the royal hall, displaying both the crimson-gold armored Guard and another group—power-armored soldiers clad in black and silver, accented with deep metallic hues, sparse gold trim, and black-yellow hazard sigils.
The emblem of this Astartes force was a skull-shaped iron mask.
"An unknown insignia. 'IV'... the Fourth Legion, perhaps," Semiramis murmured. "Not one of the three legions Selene summoned during the Romanian war."
The next moment—BOOM BOOM BOOM—!—
Magical shields flared as the royal hall trembled. The Empire's forces, busy crushing resistance from the Sea of Stars, quickly noticed the emerging floating garden from the teleport gate.
In an instant, a barrage of artillery thundered in from all directions. Magical shields lit up the ceiling dome in rapid succession.
Chaldea's defense wards—"monoliths"—overloaded one after another under the fire. Moments later, a direct hit struck the garden—an immense explosion sending smoke billowing as the airborne structure tilted and began to fall.
"Master, if we remain airborne, we'll be sitting ducks. There's only one option—I'll land the garden between Chaldea and the Sea of Stars' entrance."
Semiramis spread her arms, activating the floating garden's magical engravings. The air shimmered with glowing glyphs. The descent of the Hanging Gardens accelerated sharply—
BOOM!
CRAAASH—!
"Cough, cough... We need to get out—!"
Amid smoke and flying debris, Fujimaru Ritsuka staggered from the crash site of the fallen garden. Gazing at what remained of Chaldea—now reduced to ruins—his heart pounded with urgency as tremors beneath his feet made him stumble.
"That direction—it's the pod preservation chamber! Da Vinci must be there! We need to move!"
But just as they rounded the corridor—
They came face to face with cold, imposing steel.
THUD! THUD-THUD!
"Take cover!!"
Black and white shinobi blades flew forward, intercepting the incoming accelerated rounds—BOOM! Explosions erupted instantly.
"Huh? Wasn't this sector already cleared? Why are there still hostiles? Did they descend from that airborne fortress?"
"Isn't that area supposed to be full of comatose patients? Why so much commotion? Investigate it now. Clean it up—fast!"
A squad of armored titans emerged in the hallway opposite. The leader held a long-handled power axe.
"Da Vinci!" Fujimaru Ritsuka cried, ignoring the pain wracking his body. His eyes locked on the unconscious figure in the enemy's grasp—Da Vinci, barely breathing.
"Eliminate them!"
With a roar, the squad leader raised his axe and bellowed down the corridor:
"Take their heads and offer them to Her Majesty!"
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