Rei Ao's account of Makiri Zolgen and the origin of the Holy Grail War was like an invisible key—one that not only pried open five hundred years of sealed history, but also violently churned the hearts of the two key people present.
Tokiomi Tohsaka went pale, his body swaying almost imperceptibly. The pillars of faith he had relied on all his life took a catastrophic hit in that instant. If Rei Ao was telling the truth, then he—Tokiomi Tohsaka, current head of the Tohsaka family—not only personally pushed his daughter into the fire, but was paving the way for a centuries-twisted monster who treated human life like weeds?
The avalanche of information and the overturning of everything he knew left him dizzy. For a moment he couldn't even speak, staring blankly at the hunched figure ahead with eyes mixed with shock, doubt, and self-denial.
Matou Zouken, meanwhile, sank into an even deeper, wordless storm.
"Makiri Zolgen… abolish all evil… soul materialization…"
Those phrases echoed like incantations in the depths of a mind packed with worm hives and obsession. Five hundred years of fragments surged up in chaos: the ice-bound Einzbern castle; the young, fervent face of Nagato Tohsaka; Justeaze's eyes—pure as snow and yet hollow; the smoke of betrayal rising from the first Grail War's failure… and the silhouette of a black-haired youth in his homeland's sunset, swearing to erase every pain in the world.
"Who am I…?"
A voice so faint it barely existed rang in the depths of his soul.
"Am I Makiri Zolgen— a seeker who pursued immortality for the sake of an ideal? Or… Matou Zouken—an ugly monster who plunders only to keep crawling on, long since forgetting his original purpose?"
The chasm between ideal and reality. The brutal contrast between a noble beginning and a fallen present. The shame and rage of being laid bare by an outsider. The madness piled up over endless years…
All of it boiled like venom inside his inhuman shell—reacting, swelling!
"No—!!!"
A shrill, twisted scream—nothing like a human voice—ripped from Matou Zouken's throat.
He raised his head. On that bark-dry face, every wrinkle contorted into madness. His muddy eyes were shot through with blood; the sly malice and scheming were gone, replaced only by a hysterical lust for chaos and destruction.
"Nonsense! All of it nonsense!"
"I am Matou Zouken! Head of the Matou! A magus who seeks the Grail!"
"Makiri? Ideals? Lies, all of them!"
"It's you—it's you who stand in my way! Keeping me from immortality! Keeping me from the Root!!"
He had snapped. The truth of history and the charges of the present smashed the last shell of self-deception, exposing the rotten core within—nothing left but obsession and the animal urge to survive. He couldn't accept it, couldn't think. He had only the most extreme response left: obliterate everything before him—erase the sources of this agony and conflict.
"Tokiomi! This is all your fault! You brought this trouble here!"
Zouken suddenly swung his twisted fury toward the nearest target—Tokiomi Tohsaka, still reeling.
The sudden shriek and accusation jolted Tokiomi back to himself—but before he could react, it happened.
The hunched figure moved like a specter, faster than thought. The warped cane in his hand ceased to be a support and became a killing weapon. Its tip flared with a dark, ominous light; with a whistling hiss like a viper striking, it drove from behind straight toward Tokiomi's heart.
"Pch—!"
The dull, wet sound of metal punching through flesh and bone rang out, jarringly clear in the dead-silent morning.
Tokiomi's body went rigid. Disbelieving, he lowered his head to the blood-slick cane tip protruding from his chest. Pain flooded him in a wave—but the greater wound was the betrayal by the "ally" he had trusted.
"Hh…hh…"
He opened his mouth to speak, but only a leaking, airless rasp came out. Blood gushed from the wound, spraying from both chest and back, soaking his crisp suit in scarlet. Inch by inch, he forced his head to turn, staring at the crazed, contorted old face behind him—eyes filled with utter shock, fury, and… a glimmer of awakening that came far too late.
"You… Zouken… you…"
Before he could finish, the light in his eyes dimmed.
Tokiomi Tohsaka—who had spent his life pursuing magus honor and abiding by family law, yet made a fatal mistake at this moment—died with endless regret and unwillingness. His body pitched forward and hit the cold, damp ground with a thud, kicking up a faint puff of dust. His eyes were wide open, fixed on the gray sky—as if questioning the injustice of fate, as if condemning his own folly—unable to rest in peace.
"Ah—!!!"
The sudden, bloody brutality of it made Rin and Sakura scream in terror at the same time.
Rin had been bitterly disappointed in her father—angry, even—but he was still her father. She had never imagined she would watch him die so horrifically right before her eyes.
The scarlet of the blood and the swift fading of life slammed into her senses, shattering her composure. Her face drained white as paper; her body shook uncontrollably. Instinctively, she clutched Sakura tighter, as if she could draw even a shred of safety from it.
As for Sakura, she was frightened out of her wits.