Hello, how is everyone doing? I hope you're all well.
I'd like to offer a quick clarification regarding the *Fate/GO* storyline.
I've mentioned several times that I've only reached Lostbelt 7, but that doesn't mean I've spoiled myself on what happens afterward. Since I haven't researched it in depth—and because I don't have much free time—I've decided to stick with what I currently know.
So, if I've gotten any details about the story wrong, I'm more than happy to correct them. You might actually know more than I do; as the person writing this, I've been piecing things together based largely on my own assumptions about how everything works.
With that said, let's begin the chapter.
----------------------------------------------------------
After an hour of rest, I managed to get my body back to 100%—though I certainly had no desire to repeat what I'd just gone through.
I intended to talk to Wodine about it, but first, I had to see those two.
With that in mind, I took my scythe and, using its blade, tore open the wall in front of me. A portal appeared, and without giving it much thought, I stepped through.
Unlike how it works in cartoons, the scythe's power doesn't let me go just anywhere I please. To travel, I need to have some idea of my destination—at the very least, a mental map.
There are many "hells" in this world. If I've never visited one before, attempting to travel to "hell" will almost certainly land me in the biblical version—the one with fire, sinners, and all that—rather than in Hades or the chambers of Ereshkigal (which still exist, though they're completely empty).
Upon crossing over, I found myself near some buildings that provided shade; the area around them was filled with flowers.
The sun had begun to rise—which explained why I'd been in the shadows—and there, in the middle of a field of flowers, sat Kiss-shot and Europa, deep in conversation. Kiss-shot was likely rambling on, while Europa listened along.
Without a second thought, I whistled as loudly as I could. Both women immediately stopped talking and looked in my direction.
The moment Kiss-shot recognized me, she lunged at me without hesitation. I barely had time to brace for the impact by shifting my center of gravity.
I saw a fireball—or rather, a blur of motion—slam into me, sending my whole world into a spin. "You're finally back—you have no idea how worried you made me," Kiss-shot began, spinning my body around as she twirled herself.
I felt a wave of dizziness, but since I hadn't eaten all week, there was nothing for me to throw up.
The very next second, she set me down on the ground, only to begin sniffing my body—millimeter by millimeter.
"Oh, Dante—it's been a week. I see you're doing well," Europa remarked as she approached us. She cast a strange look at the vampire. "What are you doing?"
"She's checking to see if I cheated on her with anyone while we were apart," I replied, making no effort to hide the truth.
"Seriously? Did that ever actually happen?" the blonde woman couldn't help but ask.
"Once—back when we were on Olympus. I'd let my guard down, and, what with some of Dionysus's liquor, a succubus managed to sleep with Dante. She was one of Aphrodite's handmaidens," Kiss-shot recounted, continuing to search every last nook and cranny of my body.
"And what happened?" Europa asked, eager to hear how the story ended.
"The goddess of love destroyed that succubus, and, well, Kiss..." I trailed off, unsure of how to continue.
"I castrated him," she finished for me, leaning against my back and wrapping her arms around my neck in an embrace.
"You castrated him?" she asked, horrified.
"Yes—in one swift move, I left him without a penis or testicles," she explained, sounding quite proud of herself.
"She did it even though it wasn't my fault," I complained—it was the first time my wife had managed to knock me unconscious with a single blow.
"It was clearly your fault; you let that slut drug you. Besides, I had to punish you to ensure it wouldn't happen again—and, as always, nothing like that ever happened again," Kiss-shot remarked.
"What do you mean—sleeping with other women?" Europa asked.
"No, I mean him sleeping with other women. If that were the issue, there wouldn't be anything left of him! I've always allowed him to be with other women, provided I approve of it—that's the perk of being his wife," the vampire replied.
"So..." The woman bearing the remains of Hera grew a bit nervous, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks. "If you approve, could I be with Dante, then?"
Faced with such a tempting proposition, Kiss-shot and I exchanged a look, at a loss for words.
We had already discussed our thoughts regarding Europa and what we envisioned for her, but we hadn't shared any of it with her—she knew nothing of the little plan we had in mind.
"Well, that's a bit complicated—especially since you're still the consort of the God of Thunder. I don't see a way to get him to let you go without a great deal of bloodshed or death," I explained. This was largely due to the fact that she possessed the remains of Hera. If it weren't for that fact, things would be easier. Of course, if those other factors weren't there either, then the person in question wouldn't even be here in the first place.
Zeus had many affairs and lovers, but only Europa is here. It was a relief that the others remained where they were.
"I understand," Europa said, looking down, a bit crestfallen.
I felt a tight squeeze in my heart. It was just too touching—like watching a puppy put on a sad face and start to howl. To me, there was no difference.
"Don't worry, I already have something in mind. We just need to wait a little—and it looks like we won't have to wait long," I said, trying to console her.
"Really?" Kiss-shot asked.
"Well, I need to talk to Wodine"—actually, I need to speak with others as well. "But first, revert my form to that of a vampire; I want to be able to walk around during the day."
...
Across the infinite, bleached-out wastes of the world, I witnessed the aftermath of the alien god's attempt to supplant the human race.
And there, standing on the hill where I had arrived, was a hooded man staring fixedly at me. His eyes held a look of caution and distrust.
"You're certainly a hard man to track down," I couldn't help but remark—mostly because this was my eighth attempt at teleporting to find him.
The scythe itself doesn't teleport me; rather, it allows me to move between dimensions. So, if I want to travel between different locations in the world, I first have to enter another dimension and, from there, figure out where I'll end up.
To put it in video game terms, it's like long-distance travel using the Nether in Minecraft.
"I didn't think you'd be so insistent, son of Chaos—especially since they're already on their way to your Lostbelt," the individual said, gesturing toward a specific direction.
I tried to look but saw nothing—until I remembered that the Hindu Lostbelt had once been there. Now it was gone, which could only mean one thing.
"The situation unfolding within the Lostbelts is no longer any of my concern," I said, stepping forward until I was just centimeters away from him—"or, at least, that's what you'd like to claim."
The man before me merely grimaced and looked away.
"Across various universes, you've never shown much interest in conflicts like these—unless, of course, something directly affected you," he began, walking toward the edge of the ravine. "With your daughter summoned as a Grand Servant, I assumed you'd simply give up and step aside. But that wasn't the case."
"At first, that was true. But I'm not entirely sure how much this world actually impacts the others—especially considering the 'Incineration of Human History' should have already occurred. Yet, in all the time I've spent in my own universe, nothing of the sort ever happened. Was it averted or resolved somehow? It's as if it never took place at all," I asked.
The man—who possessed the features, height, and build of Solomon, yet wore the appearance of Romani Archaman—was, in truth, neither of them.
Lev Goetia stared into the void for a few moments before turning his gaze back to me.
"I see. For a second, I thought you'd come to devour me, or something of that nature," he said. "I didn't mind the misunderstanding, but—lacking clairvoyance and observing your behavior—I couldn't be sure what you might end up doing. I decided it was better not to take the risk."
"It's alright; I understand why you might have misinterpreted things," I replied sincerely. "If you know what's happening in this world—if you want to know—then I don't mind explaining it to you, step by step."
...
When Goetia took possession of Solomon's body, he initiated the incineration of humanity—a feat technically possible from within the Temple of Time.
Yet, there was one factor that even Beast I failed to consider:
The sheer diversity and number of parallel worlds existing within this vast universe.
The incineration of human history began at that point and spread to adjacent timelines, gradually consuming them.
However, the process was not particularly rapid; the time required to completely eradicate humanity in any given parallel world approached infinity.
Nevertheless, given enough time—even if it were to take hundreds of millions of years—it could eventually come to pass. Had he not been stopped, he would have ultimately achieved his goal.
As for the parallel world where I had been living for these past centuries, it was situated far from the origin of the incineration; consequently, its consequences never reached my world.
And since the process was halted, nothing ever happened there.
"I see," I remarked, sitting on the floor and processing the information Lev Goetia had just shared.
He stared at me, waiting for further questions.
"So, everything happening here has no repercussions for other worlds or the people within them?" I concluded.
"I never said that," the orange-haired man replied, drawing my attention.
"What do you mean?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
"What is unfolding here is not unlike the incineration of the human world," he said, causing my eyes to widen. "The alien god seeks to replace humanity using 'Fantasy Trees. 'Should any Lostbelt succeed in its mission, it will become the future of humanity across all parallel timelines." As I listened to the explanation, I turned pale at the implications.
There was a reason I was still here, why I hadn't left. That reason was Libra.
I didn't know what would become of this world if the Crypters won—or even if Chaldea emerged victorious—but that was precisely why I had stayed until now.
If a world where Libra was never born were to become the future of humanity, then it would mean she had never existed at all—and she might even vanish forever.
Faced with this, I couldn't help but bite my nails—a thought suddenly crossed my mind.
In the Greek Lostbelt, Libra was never born. In fact, in the history of that world, I never intervened. I'm not entirely sure why, but perhaps it's because Thanatos never found me among the fae, and the world deemed me dead or missing.
I didn't fully grasp what was happening, but I did know one thing: in Pan-Human History, I *did* exist.
And if I existed, then, by extension, so did Libra.
"What happens if Chaldea, for some reason, ends up winning?" I couldn't help but ask.
"To be honest, I'm not sure—that depends on them," Lev Goetia explained.
"What do you mean?" I pressed.
"I mean, if they choose to erase this Lostbelt—a world they created themselves," he replied, making my eyes widen.
"Are you saying this entire world is a Lostbelt?" I asked, somewhat incredulous; this was news to me.
"Yes—all thanks to Marisbury," the Pretender-class Servant remarked.
Hearing that name, I couldn't help but click my tongue in annoyance.
Yet, at the same time, a memory surfaced.
"I recall that when I took part in a Holy Grail War, that man summoned Solomon—but Solomon erased his own existence from the Throne of Heroes. How, then, could he be summoned?" I asked again.
"We are in a Lostbelt; technically, this world shouldn't exist, which means Solomon's act shouldn't have happened either. Essentially, he exploited a loophole," he clarified.
I didn't fully grasp the details, but at this point, it hardly mattered.
There was only one thing I needed to be certain of: for the sake of my daughter's survival, Chaldea had to win.