"Don't think you've already won, Selene! This strike shall end both of us."
Around Ishtar Ashtart, a golden ring of runes lit up in an instant, like chains stretching across space and distance, extending rapidly outward.
Even light, space, and time could not escape. The brilliance of creation-born light eclipsed the stars, igniting a dead silent region of the universe.
It bit into the edge of the broken universe, wailing in despair under the ravages of the god of the end.
Crack!
Stars long turned to dust flared again. Draped in constellations as her skirt, nebulae as silk, and one blazing sun after another, they adorned the dignified and divine beauty of Ishtar Ashtart's face.
"I am the crimson goddess who obtained the crown (Shugurra) in the wilderness of Edin, the one who reigns over the radiant spiral of the distant, ancient Milky Way (Quasar)!"
Buzz buzz buzz—!
Thump thump thump!
It sounded like the tolling of death for the galaxy—yet also the hymn of a reborn universe.
That connection to the galactic star-sea, the activation phenomena at the dawn of the Milky Way and life itself, was the power of Ishtar Ashtart.
The high-dimensional universe predates the Ether Universe (the current cosmos) and all other human timelines. It is a space where each ancient deity is a mighty transcendent entity—whether born of nature or arriving from beyond.
The primordial universe was the first to emerge from the Root's vortex—the beginning of all, the oldest of old universes, the origin of all life.
Ashtart, then, was the domain revered by the prehistoric civilizations of the cosmos—long before mammals appeared on Earth, before faith itself had formed.
A goddess of the cosmos—an original goddess.
Brilliant golden lights instantly spread across the half-voided primordial universe, centered on the Milky Way—or rather, Ishtar Ashtart.
Terrifying beyond measure, this etheric force of anti-extraterrestrial invasion burned with intensity. Crescent moons, stars, and pentagrams shimmered among the runes, vibrating in a low hum.
On this battlefield measured by galaxies, the runes appeared minuscule—barely an inch long—but even if they flashed for only an instant, their brilliance exceeded that of a supernova.
The fusion of strength and beauty—radiance at its most dazzling within the light—a breathtaking spectacle.
"Converge, return to the origin—Threshold."
Ishtar Ashtart raised both hands. Between them, a vortex of endless stars began to form.
"So be it. Since the birth of awareness, we have only taken, never given back. At a time like this, perhaps returning to the embrace of 'Mother' is our true destiny."
With just one look—guided by the Root's revelation—many Type-Moon deities who had joined the battle to aid the original goddess Ishtar Ashtart in resisting the foreign god of the end, Selene, froze in place.
Some gods accepted their fate with quiet resignation. To them, their very existence had always been a gift from the cosmos. Having lived so long, commanding the laws of nature and enjoying the worship of countless believers—they felt it was enough.
"You—!"
"Why do you strip away our very existence?!"
Others showed hatred, lashing out with bitter accusations at Ishtar Ashtart, voices full of rage, loathing—and deep fear.
Ishtar Ashtart was the most primordial, the highest of the high gods. With the full empowerment of the Root's vortex, she naturally suppressed these high-dimensional beings—who themselves were ascended through the refining of nature's essence.
After all, they were not like Selene—who forged a new path, created everything herself, and ruled by the creed: "I am the law."
If Selene was indispensable to the world's operation, then the Type-Moon deities were the ones who could not exist without the "world and all things."
Even if detachment was possible, it came at a steep price: a massive reduction in power and the necessity of the Root's silent approval.
Their very existence was derived from the Root's extensions—embodiments of nature and the cosmos. And now, the cosmos demanded their return—this meant disassembly, the dissolution of consciousness.
How could such gods, accustomed to dominance and whimsy, possibly accept that?
Some fled immediately. A few even rushed toward Selene's domain—choosing to betray the world that birthed them.
To this, Ishtar Ashtart remained indifferent—neither joyous nor enraged, showing no emotional response. She continued her work with mechanical precision.
Buzz—!
As the trinity of the original goddess Ashtart fully merged, the entity known as "Rin Tohsaka"—used as a vessel—had become negligible. What emerged was the transcendent aspect of Ashtart...
No—this was the original face of the primal goddess.
Without desire, without emotion—her actions followed only the laws of nature.
She understood the gods' actions. She accepted them. But she would not stop.
Crack crack crack...
Buzz buzz buzz—!
One by one, gods of all ranks followed: renowned chief gods, creator gods, obscure lesser deities—
And more yet—alien gods never known to modern human civilizations. Without exception, their divine forms, powers, divinity, and authority shattered and returned.
They became the purest energy particles of nature—the original cosmic essence.
A swirling multicolored vortex unraveled into strands of golden light, the entwined brilliance merging as one.
All of this primordial essence gathered between Ashtart's raised hands. The very concept and meaning of divine existence was infused into this high-dimensional galactic spiritual base—accumulating, transforming, resonating.
It was all unimaginably awe-inspiring.
Though individually the gods' strength may have offered little against Selene, they were nonetheless symbols and incarnations of certain universal and planetary concepts.
In the Type-Moon world, gods are classified as primordial gods, ascended gods, natural gods, and machine gods.
The oldest among them—are the "primordial gods."
They are embodiments of concepts or nature.
They existed before life itself. Humanity once worshipped the Sun, Moon, Venus—celestial bodies—as well as storms, thunder, sky, and earthquakes.
Natural phenomena with sentience or personality—they ruled as divine lawmakers. Their range was vast, but they were always the strongest among the gods.
If we are to define Ashtart's concept, she would fall under the category of a primordial god—and the oldest of them all—personifying the very Milky Way of the primordial universe.
"Ascended gods," on the other hand, were not born as gods. Some were human or demigod—individuals who, through immense hardship, transcended human causality and became objects of faith.
Like the mighty Heracles.
Then there are the native-born natural gods—gods of forests, rivers, plants, and the like.
Finally, there are the accidental beings—machine gods.
The Olympian Interstellar Fleet originally had no names. But when seen by ancient humans, their perceived sentience led to reverence. They were named—and in being named, became gods.
Thus were the machine gods born.
Crack!
Buzz—!
Though the essence of all primordial forces bore no fundamental difference, when Ashtart gathered the divine authorities scattered across the gods...
Her entire body radiated golden light, her multicolored hand glowing with the luster of a newborn planet. Her form became semi-transparent, tinged with hues of red, violet, and silver. A boundless star-sea swirled within her seemingly delicate frame.
Her body was nearly entirely composed of endless galaxies—as though the universe itself resided within her. Simply standing there, her presence cracked the fabric of reality, shattering it into pieces.
Dense golden brilliance spread out from beneath her feet, forming a cosmic "mist" that coiled upward around her in streams and wisps.
All surrounding the faintly glowing, elliptical object held in Ashtart's palm.
"Realizing that delay means a slow death... you're gambling everything, aren't you?"
Without need for thought, Selene instinctively perceived the threat—that object sent a faint sting crawling across her skin.
"Come then."
Selene's lips curled faintly. She extended her hand, and a shimmer of pitch-black light flickered.
Buzz buzz buzz—!
In an instant, countless strings—endless, omnipresent imaginary numbers—began to converge. Normally invisible cosmic radiation, atoms, neutrons, particles—all violently compressed.
It was as though countless black holes were twisting and folding upon themselves. Out of the darkness, a blinding fireball suddenly ignited in Selene's hand!
No, not a fireball. Upon closer inspection, it was a proportionally miniaturized version of the solar system! Eight larger dust particles spiraled around the central fire.
"Not enough."
Selene muttered, her eyes gleaming.
In an instant, the pocket universe compressed, expanded—compressed again! Then expanded—again!!
The spiral stellar illusion rapidly extended to encompass the entire solar system—from one end of the Kuiper Belt to the other. The Oort Cloud appeared. The Orion Arm appeared. The Milky Way. The Andromeda Galaxy. The Magellanic Clouds... the Local Group... the Laniakea Supercluster—endless.
"I told you—the outcome was decided. War ends not on your terms, but according to how intact I wish my spoils to be."
"..."
There was no reply. Ashtart simply gazed at the elliptical light orb in her hand, her lips parting softly:
"Behold—the Infinite Crown that Shines in the Primordial Universe (Edin Shugurra Quasar)!"
At that moment, immense power overflowed from her body. The primordial goddess herself began to disassemble, becoming a dazzling flow of starlight like endless rivers of galaxies.
Offering her own existence in exchange for the survival of "Mother," to vanquish the great foe. Victory, though costing the lives of countless gods, would preserve the Swirl of the Root—restoring all in time.
Defeat... would mean, as Selene declared—the victor claims all.
Centered on Ashtart, a brilliant golden vortex of infinite light bloomed in the void.
At the farthest edge of this vortex, energy spread like countless phantom threads—extending across the entirety of the Type-Moon Composite Multiverse, toward endless parallel worlds and universes.
For the first time, the Swirl of the Root revealed itself fully before Selene—because hiding no longer served a purpose.
Even lacking the concept of self-destruction, even lacking self-awareness—its actions now embodied the will: "If I die, I'll take you with me."
Past, present, future... countless timelines, countless parallel worlds, countless higher-dimensional realms...
From the birth of the Swirl of the Root, infinite scenes unfurled in the boundless void of the primordial universe.
As both goddesses simultaneously extended their hands—
In the blink of an eye, a massive, abyssal maw—resembling a black hole—surfaced from the depths of the primordial universe.
The entire Type-Moon composite multiverse seemed to cry out in sorrow, as the eternally constant Swirl of the Root surged into violent upheaval.
Anything in contact with it—be it space, time, matter, or energy—was instantly annihilated.
As the point of impact, even the oldest and most powerful primordial universe could not maintain its form. In the blink of an eye, it began to collapse.
Countless cracks—like shrapnel-shattered glass—spread across the very fabric of the physical universe.
Its rate of expansion exceeded the speed of light by countless magnitudes—and it was still accelerating! Accelerating further!!
In that instant, the cosmos returned to its beginning—the birth of all things!
Daylight surged across the universe! Total annihilation!
...
At the same time, across countless secondary battlefields throughout the Type-Moon world—
At this moment, Chaldea's headquarters had been razed to the ground. Even Antarctica lay in ruins, its surface fractured, more than half of it collapsed.
The wreckage of starships—vastly different in design from the Imperial Navy—littered the landscape. Some were impaled into mountain ranges, others partially submerged in the polar sea, their frames charred by lightning. Some...
Moments later, the thunderstorm above the clouds faded. Alyssa stepped forth from a crater brimming with crystalline shards.
Her hands dripped bloodied foam, flecked with crimson. Though her white outfit bore a few stains, her body remained completely unharmed—the blood wasn't hers, but belonged to those insolent enough to defy her.
The Imperial Guard and surrounding soldiers stood momentarily dazed.
Though they hadn't seen Her Majesty on the battlefield as rumored in pre-mission briefings, witnessing Princess Alyssa's divine wrath was no rare sight—but it never failed to astonish.
Who would have guessed that the always cheerful, adorably quirky Alyssa—famous for her casual visits to the lower ranks (bored outings), her warm rapport with the people, and her ever-present smile—could erupt in such fury?
Alyssa: Don't be fooled by my eating and playing (hands on hips), I'm actually super strong!
That tiny frame hurling machine gods larger than mountains—that heroic sight left a deep impression on every Imperial soldier.
"Your Highness, congratulations on your victorious return..."
A member of Alyssa's Valkyrie Guard, noticing the blood on her liege's attire, quickly stepped forward with a towel and offered to wipe it off.
"Susannah, thank you."
Alyssa nodded regally, then reached for the towel. Just as she was about to wipe herself down, she suddenly sensed something—and raised her head.
"That is..."
In the next instant—
BOOM—BOOM BOOM BOOM RUMBLE RUMBLE RUMBLE—!!
A roar that transcended time and space echoed through the entire world.
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