⚔ 002; and we sang dirges in the dark
[Without a sign, without a reason, brilliant vermillion scattered all over the earth.
Everyone appeared to be equally shocked. Saber, Irisviel, and even Lancer himself widened their eyes at this overly abrupt end. Lancer’s own shock should probably be the most intense, since he had not a sliver of expectation or preparedness for that agony and despair.
Dazed, Lancer gazed at the crimson flowers that dripped from the red spear shaft to the ground. No matter how, he could not believe that it was all his own blood.
His own beloved spear pierced his heart. It was no one else's but his own two hands that forcibly stabbed the spear tip into his own body.]
What?
[Of course, it wasn’t his intention, nor was it his wish. What his crimson spear was supposed to pierce was Saber’s heart, and what was supposed to pierce his own heart should have been Saber’s holy sword.
Able to rob everything away from him at a whim, regardless of his fighting spirit or beliefs--no such great power exists apart from Command Seals.]
No. No. He wouldn't. Kayneth-dono, you wouldn't...
[Crimson tears flew out of Lancer’s wide eyes.
For him, it was already the second time to be murdered by his lord. It was precisely because Diarmuid Ua Duibhne was bent on overcoming that unhappy end that he wished so strongly to return to this world from the Throne of Heroes. However, the end that he received was a replay of that tragedy--he only experienced that despair and sorrow once again.]
Stop it. Stop showing me this. It's not real, I will not let this--!
["Do you want victory so much!? Do you want to win the Holy Grail so much? Even willing to trample on my only true wish--you, don’t you feel ashamed!?"
His beauty twisted with blood and tears, changing into a completely different countenance akin to a demon’s. Lancer, forgetting everything except hatred, no longer distinguished between friend and foe. Thinking of Kiritsugu, Saber, and everything in the world, he roared out a growl of vengeance that tore at his heart.
"Unforgivable--I’ll never forgive you! You dead men who are slaved by fame and desecrated the glory of knights--let my blood stain that dream! I curse the Holy Grail! I curse that your wishes will become disasters! When you fall into the frying pan of hell, do not forget my, Diarmuid’s, anger!"]
...please don't show me this. I would never say such things. I would never...
[While he gradually lost his material body and crumpled as a hazy shade, he screamed curses until the final moment when he disappeared. There was no longer the glorious figure of a Heroic Spirit, but only an evil spirit roaring with resentment.
Servant Lancer had finally been completely eliminated.]
Stop it--! I am going to win this Holy Grail War for my Master at any cost to myself, I will not allow such things to come to pass! Such resentment and anger, how could I ever dare call myself the First Knight of the Fianna with those things in my heart?! [This was a different kind of anger than the vision the community had manifested--this was contained frustration, rage perfectly controlled and harnessed into a determination hard as steel.]
[Anyone watching would think this knight and that enraged spirit could easily have been two different people entirely. Diarmuid didn't even recognize himself there--when had he ever felt anger in his life? That was not him, and whatever it was...deep down in his heart, it terrified him. Lancer spoke mainly to himself rather than anyone on the network in particular--reaffirming what he believed and forcing away what he saw as a terrible lie. What else could he do?]
I know not why the community has created such illusions to deceive me, but I will not falter and I will not fail.
[His gaze was sharp and focused; if there was doubt or fear within him now, there was no trace of it on his face. Only determination and defiance of the fate shown to him.]
Never again.
Everyone appeared to be equally shocked. Saber, Irisviel, and even Lancer himself widened their eyes at this overly abrupt end. Lancer’s own shock should probably be the most intense, since he had not a sliver of expectation or preparedness for that agony and despair.
Dazed, Lancer gazed at the crimson flowers that dripped from the red spear shaft to the ground. No matter how, he could not believe that it was all his own blood.
His own beloved spear pierced his heart. It was no one else's but his own two hands that forcibly stabbed the spear tip into his own body.]
What?
[Of course, it wasn’t his intention, nor was it his wish. What his crimson spear was supposed to pierce was Saber’s heart, and what was supposed to pierce his own heart should have been Saber’s holy sword.
Able to rob everything away from him at a whim, regardless of his fighting spirit or beliefs--no such great power exists apart from Command Seals.]
No. No. He wouldn't. Kayneth-dono, you wouldn't...
[Crimson tears flew out of Lancer’s wide eyes.
For him, it was already the second time to be murdered by his lord. It was precisely because Diarmuid Ua Duibhne was bent on overcoming that unhappy end that he wished so strongly to return to this world from the Throne of Heroes. However, the end that he received was a replay of that tragedy--he only experienced that despair and sorrow once again.]
Stop it. Stop showing me this. It's not real, I will not let this--!
["Do you want victory so much!? Do you want to win the Holy Grail so much? Even willing to trample on my only true wish--you, don’t you feel ashamed!?"
His beauty twisted with blood and tears, changing into a completely different countenance akin to a demon’s. Lancer, forgetting everything except hatred, no longer distinguished between friend and foe. Thinking of Kiritsugu, Saber, and everything in the world, he roared out a growl of vengeance that tore at his heart.
"Unforgivable--I’ll never forgive you! You dead men who are slaved by fame and desecrated the glory of knights--let my blood stain that dream! I curse the Holy Grail! I curse that your wishes will become disasters! When you fall into the frying pan of hell, do not forget my, Diarmuid’s, anger!"]
...please don't show me this. I would never say such things. I would never...
[While he gradually lost his material body and crumpled as a hazy shade, he screamed curses until the final moment when he disappeared. There was no longer the glorious figure of a Heroic Spirit, but only an evil spirit roaring with resentment.
Servant Lancer had finally been completely eliminated.]
Stop it--! I am going to win this Holy Grail War for my Master at any cost to myself, I will not allow such things to come to pass! Such resentment and anger, how could I ever dare call myself the First Knight of the Fianna with those things in my heart?! [This was a different kind of anger than the vision the community had manifested--this was contained frustration, rage perfectly controlled and harnessed into a determination hard as steel.]
[Anyone watching would think this knight and that enraged spirit could easily have been two different people entirely. Diarmuid didn't even recognize himself there--when had he ever felt anger in his life? That was not him, and whatever it was...deep down in his heart, it terrified him. Lancer spoke mainly to himself rather than anyone on the network in particular--reaffirming what he believed and forcing away what he saw as a terrible lie. What else could he do?]
I know not why the community has created such illusions to deceive me, but I will not falter and I will not fail.
[His gaze was sharp and focused; if there was doubt or fear within him now, there was no trace of it on his face. Only determination and defiance of the fate shown to him.]
Never again.