Fate: But This Is Not Solomon I Know!

Fuyuki, Miyama Town — a blazing battlefield.

The scenery was engulfed in a sea of flames, with thick crimson smoke coiling up into the sky. The wind howled like a vengeful spirit, carrying the harsh clang of steel and sorcery clashing. Two armored warriors — one radiating brilliant gold-white light, the other cloaked in ominous shadow — charged at each other like twin bolts of lightning tearing through the night.

Blades met.

Sparks burst like shattered meteors, torrents of energy surging through the air. Neither yielded an inch.

Zoth swung Kurayami in a wide arc, dark energy trailing along the blade as he slashed toward Ark's.

Ark's tilted his body to evade, precise and cold. He instantly morphed his Attache Weapon into a bow, leapt backward, drew the string tight — and loosed it.

Whizz! Whizz! Whizz!

A barrage of red energy arrows shot toward Zoth like a storm.

Zoth weaved through them — each arrow narrowly missing. A smirk curled beneath his helm. Coldly, he closed the Omni Force book on his Driver and tapped it thrice. A mechanical voice echoed, grim and mocking:

[Omnimus Loading…]

[Solomon Zone! Fuhahahaha…]

Zoth raised his hand.

BOOM!

A massive red tome appeared in the sky, looming and blotting out the moon. The Caladbolg in his hand erupted with crimson power, screaming wildly. He swung — and a torrent of energy shot straight into the book.

The tome opened — glowing crimson pages whirled, and from within, a spherical energy field burst forth, raining down like divine retribution. Everything within range was crushed, the earth torn up, the air warped.

Ark's immediately slammed his hand onto his Driver, the other fist slamming into his Progrise Key — unleashing his Finisher.

[Perfect conclusion! Learning: End!]

His entire body was engulfed in darkness — overwhelming malice surged forth, forming a black-red wave that shattered the space around him. Fiery runes of "Destruction" burned across his armor, like curses from the underworld.

Without hesitation, he roared and unleashed a blast of demonic energy — head-on against the crimson field from the tome.

BOOM!!

The shockwave exploded violently as the two forces collided, creating a deafening roar that tore open the sky. All of Miyama Town was leveled — rooftops and walls reduced to ashes. Explosive currents of energy weaved through space like an apocalyptic flood.

While Zoth and Ark's exchanged blows, their opposing powers continued to spiral and clash. Then suddenly, Zoth chuckled beneath his helm, and shouted:

"Ahoge King! It's your turn now!"

Ark's tensed immediately, ready to fall back — but a golden beam, like a meteor, descended from the heavens, hurtling straight toward him.

CRASH!

Blinding golden light swallowed Ark's black-and-white armor, purging the malice raging through his body. That power — Excalibur.

Artoria emerged from the light, sword drawn back, panting from exhaustion. Yet her eyes remained sharp, cold — locked onto Ark's as she charged forward without hesitation.

Ark's was wounded, armor damaged, but he didn't back down. He morphed his Attache Weapon back into a sword and rushed into melee.

Clang!!

Two fundamentally different swords clashed — sparks flew nonstop, the sound of steel striking steel echoing like a war bell. The battlefield held its breath; only the slicing of blades and clashing wills remained.

Ark's locked eyes with Artoria — when a sudden thunderclap roared beside his ear.

BOOM!

He turned — too late. A massive pair of bull hooves stomped down on him, slamming him into the ground. Moments later — a war chariot rolled in, crushing him under its wheels like a ritual of war.

"Hahahaha! Berserker! Did you forget about your king?"

Iskandar bellowed atop his roaring chariot, red hair flowing, his voice thunderous, gaze alight with imperial fervor.

Ark's — crushed into the earth — remained unfazed. He pushed himself up, body broken but expression calm. His compound red eyes glowed beneath the helm as he spoke coldly:

"I didn't expect… the King of Conquest to stoop to a gank like this."

Iskandar laughed heartily, arms folded, looking down at Ark's like a general recognizing a worthy foe:

"I feel a bit ashamed myself… but you're too dangerous for this land. So, I'll join everyone to end you here!"

Ark's tilted his head, about to sneer — but before he could speak, Zoth's voice screamed again, wild and delighted:

"Go now! Gooning Table Knight — Lancelot!!"

"ARRGGGHHH—!!"

Black and violet light tore through the night sky, slicing the darkness. Lancelot descended like divine lightning, bloodlust forged from a thousand battles. Arondight gleamed as it cleaved the wind — slashing across Ark's shoulder in a ruthless strike.

Sparks flew. Black blood splattered.

Lancelot didn't stop. He growled like a beast and threw punch after punch into Ark's, each blow aiming to crush his armor.

Ark's refused to fall. He braced both arms, his armor shrouded in raging malice. The two collided, exchanging bone-shattering blows, each impact ringing like hammers striking molten steel.

They became engines of destruction, trading merciless strikes, trampling the earth beneath their feet.

Suddenly — from above, the mechanical voice echoed once more:

[Omnimus Loading…]

[Solomon Break!!]

The skies howled.

The earth trembled.

Crushing pressure threatened to collapse the world — every inch of space compacted, forcing nearby Servants to their knees or grit their teeth in agony. Ark's looked up — and saw it:

The sky had split.

A crimson veil blanketed the heavens above the town, clouds torn apart like paper. And then, from the blinding rift —

A meteor.

A massive celestial body, its surface cloaked in living red flame, plummeted like divine punishment. The heat alone scorched the land before it even made contact.

Ark's gritted his teeth and raised his hand.

From the ground — black sludge surged upward like a living swamp, crawling, merging into a massive shield to block the incoming strike.

BOOM—!!

Impact.

The meteor struck.

A red inferno swallowed everything. The shockwave ripped through earth and sky, the explosion rippling out like a magnitude-ten earthquake.

The Holy Grail War's Servants braced themselves, veterans of death — yet all were left speechless by what they saw:

Miyama Town was reduced to ash.

Ark's clawed his way out of the ashes, body battered and torn. His armor was cracked and scorched, sparks dancing from broken plates. Half his helmet was shattered, revealing a face smeared with soot, fire, and dried blood.

"Yo! Ark's, what's up? First time getting gangbanged in battle — still stunned by the smell of grass?"

Zoth emerged from the smoke, his white-gold armor flickering with emberlight. Without waiting for a response, he drove a Rider Punch straight into Ark's ribs — no mercy, no pause.

Thud!

Ark's was sent flying, rolled across the ground, then pushed himself up on one arm. Blood dripped from his body. He looked up — eyes locked on Zoth, unwavering.

"Hahaha… You all teaming up on me — what glory is there in that?"

Zoth narrowed his eyes. He slowly ran a hand along the blade-shaped horn on his helmet, his voice dripping disdain:

"Tch… I'm just being real, that's all. What? Reality hurts, huh?"

Ark's shook his head, face calm as ever, voice level:

"No. I know this is reality… But no one else fights as dirty as you, Solomon."

Zoth shrugged, spun Saikou a few times with casual flair, then sighed:

"C'mon… who fights solo these days? The more the merrier, right? Higher win rate."

Ark's nodded slightly, then frowned, voice cautious:

"Fair. But… why are you still talking to me?"

Zoth grinned — that twisted grin only he could wear — then pointed to the sky.

"Check that shit out."

Ark's turned.

Above them — red mana spiraled like a storm, condensing into a massive, flaming crimson vortex tearing through the clouds. At its center…

Stood Gilgamesh.

Golden armor gleaming, his face contorted, teeth clenched — eyes locked dead-on with both Zoth and Ark's.

In his hand — Ea, already drawn.

The Sword of Rupture trembled, resonating with all of creation itself.

Originally, he still wanted to toy around, play with Ark's for a bit longer just for amusement.

But Zoth had used a Command Seal — forcing him to unleash Ea.

"You mongrel… You've got guts, forcing me to use this…"

"Yeah yeah, less whining. Just kill this bastard first, then we can settle our own beef."

Gil's eyes flared with fury. But bound by the Command Seal, he couldn't disobey. He sneered coldly, gaze burning with contempt as he looked down on them both.

"You mongrels should feel honored… to behold the treasure of the King.

And you — the mongrel who dared use a Command Seal on me —

you can die right alongside him."

"Huh?"

Zoth turned to Gil, scratching his helmet. It was only then he realized—

He was standing right next to Ark's.

And Ea — was aimed at both of them.

"Wait! Hold up! At least let me run first—!"

"Too late! Mongrels!

Witness the wrath of your King!!"

"I will tell you of the beginning.

Heaven and Earth split, nothingness praised creation,

My Sword of Rupture cleaved the world.

Mortar of the stars, heaven's hell is the eve of creation's celebration.

Now you shall die and be silent…

ENUMA ELISH!"

BOOOOOOOM—!!

A searing red beam shot downward like a divine lance, tearing through the heavens.

The sky shattered.

The earth crumbled.

Reality convulsed.

Ea was unleashed.

Zoth scrambled, teleporting sideways in a flash — barely escaping the annihilation zone.

But Ark's—

Was completely engulfed in the light of creation's rupture.

His body cracked, disintegrating, piece by piece.

No blood.

No scream.

Only utter erasure — as if he had never existed.

And with that—

Ark's was wiped from this world…

by Ea.

On the other side of the battlefield, a sudden swirl of blood mist tore open space. From within it, a familiar figure stepped out — armor gleaming white and gold in the firelight.

Zoth.

He was gritting his teeth, veins bulging on his neck from rage. His crimson eyes burned as they locked onto Gilgamesh. Clutching Caladbolg, he pointed it straight at Gil and began waving it furiously, shouting:

"You bastard!!! What kind of team-up ends with goddamn friendly fire!?"

High above, Gilgamesh clicked his tongue upon seeing Zoth unharmed — his face a mix of disappointment and contempt. He sneered arrogantly:

"To the King... you and that rabid dog are one and the same."

Zoth's teeth ground together audibly. His grip tightened around the hilt of his sword.

Then —

He stopped.

The fury on his face shifted… to a devilish grin. That wicked smirk of someone who's just cooked up something foul. His eyes gleamed with mischief and malice.

In a flash, he drew Bilgamed — the steel flashed cold and sharp.

He slashed the air — and golden script appeared mid-sky like a magical decree:

[Gilgamesh: Return to age 11.]

Shrrrkk—!

Space warped.

Both the soul and body of Gilgamesh were forcibly twisted, rewound like a film spinning in reverse. His face tensed with fury, veins popping:

"MONGREL!! What the hell do you think you're doing!!"

Zoth calmly closed the Omni Force book and detached the Wonder Ride Book from his Driver, disengaging his transformation.

He strolled forward, almost leisurely, eyes glittering with sheer delight.

"Khehe… just helping you out~

Back to your childhood, you go."

"You dare tamper with the body of a King!?"

Gil roared, shaking the heavens.

He thrust his arm out to summon the Gate of Babylon—

But—

Every golden portal instantly fizzled out.

High above, more golden script scrawled across the air:

[Restrict Gilgamesh from using Noble Phantasms.]

Gil could only grit his teeth. His glare burned, but his body was already shrinking — the majestic glow fading, bit by bit.

From the sky descended a much smaller figure: Blond hair. Wide, round eyes. A downsized noble's outfit.

Kid Gil.

Zoth folded his arms, raising a brow as he eyed the mini king. That grin returned — sly as ever.

"Well well~ Hello there, Kid Gil!"

Kid Gil looked up at Zoth, beaming like a child handed candy. He waved cheerfully:

"Hi there, big bro!

Do you know why I'm here?"

Zoth grinned, giving a thumbs-up, face blooming with smug joy:

"I reversed your spirit core~

Turned your grown-up ass into… well, this.

No need to thank me."

Gil nodded solemnly, arms folded, face unusually mature for a kid:

"It's true…

My adult self really is kind of an asshole.

But still, thank you, big bro, for helping get rid of him."

"Told you — no need to thank me."

Just then — Zoth froze.

His gaze narrowed. Then he let out a low chuckle, twisted and dark. He turned, eyes drifting toward the grand theater at the center of Miyama. His voice dropped — laced with contempt and exhaustion.

"Tch... Ahoge King...

Still clinging on, huh?

Well, fine...

Let me help free you from that obsession once and for all~."

Without another word, Zoth turned and walked straight into the blood mist, vanishing as he warped toward Miyama's Grand Theater — now cloaked in a bizarre, pulsating magic.

Kid Gil stood there, blinking. He tilted his head, pondering something for a moment. Then, with a firm nod, he hurried into the blood mist — tailing Zoth, curious to see just what devilry he was about to unleash.

---

At the theater stage.

The auditorium was deserted. The chandelier lay shattered, smoke and embers scattered across the floor. Only the main stage remained — and at its center floated a golden chalice, pulsing with unstable magical energy:

The Holy Grail.

Artoria panted heavily, Excalibur stained with smoke and ash. Step by step, she advanced — slow, steady, unyielding.

Her armor was cracked, blood trickling from her left shoulder, yet her eyes remained sharp — a blade of resolve that would not bend.

"The Grail… where is it…"

She ascended the stairs toward the stage. Just a few more steps, and it would all be over.

But then—

Zrrp—!

A dimensional portal ripped open mid-air.

Zoth stepped through, one hand in his pocket, the other casually grabbing the Grail mid-air and spinning it in his hand with a charming smile.

"Hey hey, looking for this?"

He grinned slyly, raising the sparkling Holy Grail high like a sketchy street vendor selling knockoff goods:

"Limited Edition Holy Grail™ — mud-stained leak version, no refund, no warranty~."

Artoria gripped Excalibur tighter, voice stern:

"Ruler… hand over the Grail. Now."

Zoth tilted his head, whistling innocently:

"Oh? And why should I?

A cup that grants wishes, sure — and turns the world into a rice cooker from hell?"

She stepped up one more stair, raising her sword. Her voice lowered, trembling slightly from the weight of her conviction:

"I want it… to save my kingdom.

The Grail can make that happen.

So — Ruler. Give it to me."

Zoth kept smiling… but his gaze darkened.

He stared at Artoria for a moment — then slowly placed the Grail down at the center of the stage.

"Alright then. Let's stick to the script…

Oh, and uh, hope you don't walk away with trauma~."

Artoria froze mid-step.

"You… what are you planning?"

Zoth took a slow step back, eyes still fixed on her, grin unfading:

"Oh nothing much…

Just letting you do what was always meant to be done —

Shatter the Grail."

Artoria's eyes widened. She staggered a few steps back, voice shaking:

"You… you want—"

Before she could finish, Zoth raised his hand.

The Command Spells of the Ruler class glowed on his arm. His voice turned gleefully cruel:

"By this Command Seal: Saber — destroy the Holy Grail!"

Artoria flinched — but only for a moment.

She stepped forward. The golden blade in her hand began to glow — a holy light radiating from the steel.

The wind howled.

The stage cracked.

The light of a King blazed defiantly in the rotting dark.

She raised her sword, the brilliance blinding, like the sun rising on judgment day. But her voice still trembled with resistance:

"Please… stop! I don't want this!"

Zoth shrugged, and lifted his hand again:

"Saber! Obliterate the Grail!"

"NOOOOO!!!" Artoria screamed, helpless.

BOOOOM!!!

A blinding beam tore through space, slamming directly into the Holy Grail.

Black and gold shards burst outward.

Light consumed the entire stage.

The shockwave swept across the hall, and mana scattered like dying fireworks.

Zoth stood behind it all, calmly nodding with satisfaction.

He muttered under his breath:

"Canon event, check √."

Then he drew Bilgamed, and wrote glowing golden text into the air:

[Malice of Humanity: Erased!]

Shhhkk—!

The writhing black mud that once threatened to devour Miyama surged up one final time — but an invisible force crushed it. It couldn't erupt.

It withered.

It faded.

Swallowed by the void, dragged back into nothingness.

Zoth casually sheathed Bilgamed, opened a dimensional gate, and stepped into Wonder World without looking back.

From the shadows, Kid Gil peeked out, having seen everything.

He was utterly intrigued by Zoth — and without a word, he followed.

To see just what the hell that man would do next.

---

In another dimension — the fantastical world of Wonder World.

This was a realm born from dreams and imagination — floating islands drifted in a vast blue sky, while trails of white bubbles lazily floated with the breeze.

A deep green portal opened in midair — and from it, two figures emerged.

One tall.

One small.

Zoth and Gil.

The corner of Zoth's eye twitched. He glanced sideways at the small blond figure beside him, voice irritated:

"Hey, Gil.

Since when have you been following me?"

Gil beamed proudly, hands on hips:

"Since the theater, of course! Big bro~."

Zoth facepalmed with a deep, weary sigh:

"Aiz… why the hell are you following me… What do you want?"

"Because you're really fun to watch!" Gil answered cheerfully, completely sincere.

Zoth gave up. He shook his head and began walking deeper into this strange sky realm.

Gil trailed right behind him.

The two wandered through the floating dreamscape, occasionally chatting, pointing at odd sights, and sometimes Zoth would lazily toss floating rocks down at the islands below like skipping stones.

Eventually, they reached a small floating island centered around a giant tree — and ahead of them, they spotted something.

Two figures.

Zoth and Gil picked up their pace.

Ahead, a blue-haired boy was bandaging the arm of a red-haired boy — whose body was covered in burns and ash.

Zoth squinted, recognized the blue hair… and suddenly burst out laughing:

"Shinji! I'm here, ya brat!"

"A?! Ruler-nii!!" Shinji jumped up, waving both arms with excitement.

Zoth approached. His eyes fell onto the red-haired boy on the ground… and his face twisted.

"What the hell?! Shirou?!

Why the hell is this kid here?!"

Shinji looked up at Zoth, tilting his head in confusion:

"Ruler-nii… didn't you bring him here?"

Zoth immediately waved his hands like a madman:

"Hell no! I was in the middle of combat, okay?!

When would I have had time to play evac team?!"

At that moment, Shirou groaned faintly. His eyes fluttered open — wincing from the glare of the sky — then slowly opened again.

He looked up at the three unfamiliar faces surrounding him, and asked weakly:

"Where… am I…?"

Zoth folded his arms, answering flatly:

"Welcome to Wonder World, kid.

Now spill it — how the hell did you get here?"

Shirou shook his head. Pain creased his face. He gritted his teeth and whispered:

"I… don't know…

I just remember… a wave of black mud… swallowing my house…"

Zoth nodded, his expression turning grim.

Just then, Gil scratched his cheek and muttered:

"Um… shouldn't we, like, take him to a hospital?

He's… not doing so well a."

Zoth turned back to Shirou and gave him a longer look.

His body was scorched, covered in burns, barely conscious.

Yeah — he wasn't going to last like this.

Without another word, Zoth scooped Shirou up into his arms and turned away, barking:

"Shinji. Let's go. We're leaving this place."

Shinji didn't hesitate. He quickly ran up beside Zoth, afraid of being left behind again.

---

And so it began.

The wheels of Shirou's fate shifted —

onto a path no one could have foreseen.