"…Erk…shu…ck… Wake up…"
"Stark, it's time to get up."
Someone was calling him.
Stark slowly and with some difficulty opened his eyes. A blinding white light flooded his vision, forcing him to squint. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust before his brain could start processing the images before him.
The figure standing in front of him gradually became clearer.
It was a man who bore at least an eighty percent resemblance to Stark, though he appeared slightly older. His red hair, like burning flames, gave him a serious and resolute demeanor.
His figure was tall and lean, his features young and striking. Even as he simply stood there, he exuded the aura of someone who had been tempered by countless battles and hardships.
Upon seeing him, Stark's eyes filled with confusion.
"…Big brother…"
The moment Stark spoke, a hint of warmth flickered in Stoltz's gaze.
"Time to get up, Stark. Today is your first time going out with us to hunt monsters."
"Father finally agreed to let you join. If you're late, you'll only disappoint him."
Stark remained bewildered, as if struggling to grasp Stoltz's words.
This was his room.
The stiff wooden bed, the marks on the walls, the battle-axe placed in the corner.
Everything felt both familiar and strangely foreign, creating an unsettling sense of dissonance.
But the moment he remembered his harsh and strict father, Stark instinctively tried to get up—only to find his body weighed down as if filled with lead.
"Urgh…"
Stoltz's brow furrowed ever so slightly.
"Sore muscles? …Maybe I shouldn't have let you train alone last night."
At Stoltz's words, Stark absentmindedly rubbed his throbbing head, recalling the events of the previous evening.
His brother, Stoltz, was the strongest warrior in their village—his father's pride, and the pride of all their people.
Meanwhile, he himself was seen as a failure. No matter how diligently he trained every day, he had never once fought a monster.
But now, at last, the tides were turning.
Today, he would finally follow his brother beyond the village to hunt monsters.
The sheer anticipation had left him so restless last night that he trained in the yard until he was utterly exhausted, only collapsing into sleep once his body could no longer move.
"How do you feel? Can you still fight?"
"Yes! No problem at all!"
Stark jumped out of bed. His well-built physique allowed him to brush off the muscle soreness without a second thought.
After all, if he couldn't even endure this, he would have died long ago in battle—
…Wait. Why would I have died in battle?Isn't today my first time hunting monsters outside the village?
Once again, that unsettling feeling crept in.
As Stark put on his clothes, Stoltz stood behind him, a relieved smile forming on his lips.
"I'll be waiting outside. Come find me when you're ready."
With that, Stoltz turned and left, closing the door behind him.
Stark dressed quickly, washed up, and grabbed his long-handled twin-bladed axe. The entire process took him barely any time at all.
As he stepped outside, his gaze immediately landed on his brother's back.
The broad and unwavering back he had always looked up to.
Every time he saw it, he felt a pang of inferiority.
But this time felt different.
As he stared at that familiar figure, an indescribable surge of emotions rose in his heart.
Regret, self-loathing, sorrow, reluctance, pain…
At that moment, Stoltz turned back to look at him. His cold and imposing face softened slightly when he saw Stark.
"What's wrong? You don't look well. Do you need to rest?"
"No! I'm fine!"
Stark shook his head hastily.
"I… I don't want to miss this chance. I want… to fight alongside you, big brother!"
It was a longing from the very depths of his soul.
As if… if he didn't say it now… he would never have the chance again.
His voice was almost a shout—so much so that even Stoltz was momentarily taken aback.
Then, a faint smile tugged at Stoltz's lips, as if he was genuinely pleased.
"You finally have the look of a true warrior, Stark."
---
When Frieren opened her eyes, she found herself standing in the middle of a vast field of flowers.
Before she could gather her thoughts, a gentle hand placed a flower crown upon her head.
She lifted her gaze—and met a pair of deep blue eyes.
"…Himmel…"
"It suits you, Frieren."
Himmel's lashes lowered slightly, his shimmering blue eyes carrying an emotion she had never been able to understand.
At least, the old Frieren couldn't.
She had never truly looked at that gaze.
It was a look so gentle—like sunlight filtering through the forest canopy, or a breeze rippling across the surface of a quiet lake.
So warm… and yet, tinged with sorrow.
Nearby, Heiter and Eisen had already run into the flower field, laughing.
Heiter, grinning, had also woven a flower crown—placing it atop Eisen's head.
A rugged, bearded old man wearing a delicate flower crown—it was an amusingly absurd sight.
So absurd that it was almost laughable.
Heiter and Eisen certainly thought so, as they both burst into laughter like fools.
"You two look like complete idiots."
Frieren didn't hold back her blunt remark, though a small smile tugged at her lips nonetheless.
Then, she turned back to Himmel.
"Himmel."
"Hm? What is it, Frieren?"
His voice was light, soft—just as she remembered.
"Kneel down. I have something for you."
She didn't say what it was, and Himmel didn't ask.
Instead, he simply smiled and lowered himself onto one knee before her.
Like a prince pledging his eternal vow beneath a sky filled with drifting petals.
For a fleeting moment, Frieren was lost in thought.
Then, she held up a flower crown and placed it gently atop Himmel's head.
The flowers woven into the crown had a beautiful name—Lunaris Blossoms.
"You once told me that this was a flower from your homeland. That it was incredibly beautiful, and that you hoped one day I could see it for myself."
Back then, she had simply replied, "Maybe someday"—and left it at that.
But then Himmel was gone.
And by the time she finally wanted to understand humans…
She remembered.
"I've seen them now, Himmel. Just as you said… they're truly beautiful."
"…That doesn't sound like something you'd say, Frieren."
Himmel rose to his feet, gazing at her with eyes as soft as autumn water.
"So, the future me… was I someone who changed you that much?"
Frieren smiled faintly.
"You changed me a great deal, Himmel."
"…That's nice to hear."
He stroked his chin in thought, then suddenly asked:
"Alright then… the sea of Lunaris Blossoms you saw—was it more beautiful than me?"
With an almost theatrical pose, Himmel threw out an entirely self-absorbed question.
"Hmm… I'd say it's about the same."
"You were supposed to say I'm more beautiful!"
---
A sudden shout and a wail rang out in the pure white room.
"Doctor! Are you slacking off in my room again?!"
"Uwah!"
A staff whizzed past, barely grazing a head of orange hair, slicing through the air with a sharp whoosh.
The man, caught off guard, stumbled and fell to the floor in a rather pitiful state. Twisting his head toward the door, he yelled in protest, "Are you trying to kill me?!"
But the person standing there showed no mercy.
"You were the one who decided to hog the spotlight, acting all cool without saying a word, then disappearing on us completely."
With a firm tap of the staff against the floor, the figure locked eyes with him, exuding an overwhelming sense of pressure. "Since you clearly had no regard for your own life, even if I beat you to death, you'd have no right to complain."
"That's just unreasonable!"
Scratching the back of his head, the man wore an expression that made him seem easy to bully—timid, even.
His name was Romani Archaman.
Those who knew him well simply called him Roman, a name he himself found rather poetic and romantic, so he gladly accepted it.
Anyone who played Fate/Grand Order would recognize him. He was Chaldea's chief medical officer, and after Director Olga Marie fell into the Chaldeas system, he took over as acting director.
But his true identity was none other than Grand Caster, the ancient King of Israel, the King of Magecraft—Solomon.
At the Final Singularity, within the Throne of Time, Romani reclaimed his lost power and perished alongside Beast I, Goetia.
The omniscient and omnipotent wise king had once wished for an ordinary life.
Yet, just before he could attain that ordinariness, he witnessed the world's impending destruction. And so, as a mortal stripped of divine omnipotence, he never got to experience the happiness and fulfillment of a human life. Instead, his freedom was cruelly taken away, forcing him to dedicate his existence to learning, to research, to an endless pursuit of knowledge.
Running through the darkness, weary, wretched, teetering on the edge of despair.
And in the end, even after overcoming every Singularity—
He still never got to live out the mundane life he had fought so hard for.
"One person failed to return from the Final Singularity."
A line that left countless FGO players with an unresolved sorrow.
The figure standing before him, staff in hand, glanced at Romani, who had slowly sat up on the bed. There was an unmistakable frustration in their voice.
"You had it easy. You pulled off a half-baked cool act and then just bailed on us. Meanwhile, we barely managed to fix the Human Order Incineration, only to face the bleaching of the Human Order, and Beasts popping up left and right like mushrooms after the rain! If I hadn't been ridiculously lucky, I'd have already reported to Ereshkigal, you know?!"
"Ahaha… but complaining to me won't change anything, will it?"
Roman awkwardly scratched his head—at this rate, he was going to pull out all his hair one day. "I'm just a simple medical officer, after all."
The response earned him an immediate "Do you think I believe that?" kind of look.
Letting out a small sigh, Roman lowered his hand and smiled.
"It's been years since you last visited. I imagine you've collected quite a few stories in that time?"
"Hmm, more or less. I've embarked on another journey with my friends."
As they spoke, the visitor nonchalantly produced a plate of strawberry shortcake from who-knew-where and placed it on the table before Roman.
"With that elf named Frieren, right?"
"Not just her. Frieren even took on an apprentice, a girl named Fern. She's pretty talented in magic. And we've also got a warrior, Stark—he's Eisen's disciple. But since Eisen's too awkward to raise a kid properly, he ended up leaving him with us."
"I see… Sounds like you're having quite the interesting adventure."
The visitor fell silent for a moment, lifting their gaze to meet Roman's.
"What makes you say that?"
"Your expression tells me everything."
Roman picked up the fork and cut into the shortcake, bringing a piece to his mouth.
Then, his expression twisted into something odd.
"…What's wrong?"
The visitor frowned. "Is it not to your taste?"
"No… Quite the opposite, actually."
Roman shot them a sidelong glance and muttered, "This cake is too good. It's leagues above any other strawberry shortcake I've had. And that's exactly the problem… Once you leave, how many years will I have to wait before I can eat something like this again? Just thinking about it makes the future seem so bleak…"
"Who in their right mind sees a future shrouded in darkness just because of a piece of cake?"
"You don't get it! For me, life is all about strawberry shortcake and Magical Girls!"
"Yeah, yeah. I wouldn't understand."
The two continued exchanging lighthearted banter, occasionally throwing in a few jabs at each other.
They spoke without much thought, letting words flow naturally—perhaps that was precisely why the conversation felt so comforting.
Eventually, Roman finished his cake and placed the empty plate back on the table.
"You should probably get going soon."
Roman suddenly brought it up, just as casually as if he were commenting on the weather.
The visitor said nothing, neither confirming nor denying it.
Roman merely smiled, his expression gentle.
"As much as I'd love to hear about all the stories you've collected, about everything you've experienced these past few years… You still have things to do, don't you? Let's save it for next time."
"…That's true. Business comes first, after all."
A faint smirk tugged at their lips as they stood up from the bed. When they turned, their long cloak swayed lightly in the air.
With their back to Roman, they made their way toward the door.
"Guess I'll go deal with those annoying pests lurking outside first."
"Take care."
The way Roman said it—it wasn't quite a farewell.
It sounded more like someone reminding a friend to be careful while taking out the trash.
With a soft shhh, the pure white door slid open.
Yet, the visitor did not step out immediately.
Instead, they stood still for a moment.
Then, without turning back, they spoke—
"I'll bring you back, Doctor. Better be ready to work overtime."
With that, they finally stepped out of the room.
Roman watched as their figure faded into the endless white.
His lashes lowered, and in a whisper—one so faint it felt carried by a distant breeze—he murmured:
"…I'll be waiting, then."
And with that, everything shattered.
Like ripples breaking the reflection upon a lake's surface—
Leaving behind nothing but a pure white void.
---
T/N: romani...