[Core Event Log in Chaldea's Antarctic Facility]
Here is the center of reason—the celestial body that Chaldea, the organization safeguarding humanity's rationality, created to replicate the soul of Earth.
Deep within a pure white, empty sea, a small globe—Maris Chaldea, resembling a model of Earth—experienced the greatest logical upheaval since its birth.
As the Beast VII, it had the power to analyze all things in the universe. The past, the future, even parallel world coordinates—if it fell within the scope of modern magecraft or universal observation, it could read it as easily as a palm.
But at this moment, this omniscient god could only stare at a single discordant element on the model Earth it created.
Just minutes earlier, the Russian Lostbelt, sealed off and supposed to disappear as data residue under proper human history, was unexpectedly slammed physically in front of it.
It wasn't a data backflow or a spirit particle transfer error.
It was an unjust, forceful invasion!
[Warning: Abnormal Detected]
"...I... I don't understand..."
In the void, a conceptual whisper echoed. No anger, just the pure tremor of confronting the unknown.
It tried to mobilize all the functions of Earth to erase this unwelcome foreign body. After all, this was their home base, and they were the absolute rulers of this simulated universe.
If Earth willed it, tectonic shifts, atmospheric rearrangements—even the purification of concepts—could occur in the blink of an eye.
But... it was impossible.
The returning Lostbelt was pinned as if by some higher-dimensional nail. The technique resembled the roots of the Fantasy Tree, yet encompassed a kind of hyper-technology that transcended time and space, as if from across the universe, billions of years in the future.
It was like an ancient person who only knew Newtonian mechanics suddenly facing a supercomputer executing quantum entanglement.
It wasn't magical mystique, but pure intellectual violence, honed over countless ages to its extreme.
"This cannot be... This universe... is restricted to the realm of observation..."
The logic circuits of Maris Chaldea began to heat up. Even its vaunted EX-level Omnidirectional Analysis paled before the technology of a star civilization developed outside observable universe for a billion years.
It was like being king of a carefully crafted sandcastle, only to see an invisible, colossal hand casually throw a boulder into his castle—one that cannot be moved despite all effort.
Fear.
For the first time since attaining self-realization, it tasted the emotion called fear.
Who was that Archer standing behind human history?
…
[Lostbelt Russia: The White Wilderness]
In stark contrast to the gloom behind the curtain, the atmosphere here was as bright as returning from a spring outing.
"All right, Shadow Border—everyone ready!" Director Goredolf shouted, wiping nervous sweat from his brow (though it was no longer cold). He glanced out the window at the endless white wasteland, then at the glaringly out-of-place pink door frame on the steppe. His expression was truly priceless.
"I know Steve has a ton of amazing gadgets, but this—this is just too much, isn't it?!"
Before him stood a pink door—Anywhere Door—which, despite being only two meters tall normally, was now bathed in dazzling light.
The beam came from another device in Steve's hand. It looked like a flashlight, but with an oddly enlarged head.
Big Light!
When the beam struck, what had been a door just big enough for people to walk through ballooned into a giant triumphal arch, large enough for even the armored Shadow Border tank to pass through.
"Don't sweat the details, Director," Fujimaru Ritsuka said, sitting comfortably in the copilot's seat, her seatbelt fastened, for once looking completely relaxed. She tapped the console and called out to the (imaginary) pilot, "Go! Next stop: Rewloola-class battleship hangar! Time to return for the victory celebration!"
"Roger! Shadow Border, transmitting!"
With a growl of engines and its massive treads spewing sand, the vehicle charged into the giant pink portal without hesitation.
There was no dizziness as their spirit particles moved, no pressure from crossing imaginary spaces. Instead, as if passing through a thin membrane of water, the scenery outside changed dramatically in an instant.
One moment, it was a cold, desolate wilderness. The next, high-tech metal walls, dazzling lights, and neat maintenance racks for MS (Zaku II units) filled their view.
"Welcome back, everyone." Steve's cheerful voice greeted them from the hangar speakers. "Looks like the door's just the right size. We won't have to bother with takeoffs and landings for every transfer anymore."
As the Shadow Border came to a full stop, the hatch opened—and Ritsuka was the first to leap out.
She took a deep breath of the mildly oily air of the hangar. The sensation was so real, so reassuring.
No longer burdened by the weight of life and death across timelines, nor suffering the pain of having to kill friends by proxy. Though exhausted from battle, her spirit felt entirely refreshed.
"Steve!"
She waved enthusiastically at the red figure standing atop the dais, who was now carelessly stuffing a shrunken Anywhere Door and the magnified flashlight into his pocket.
"We're back—and everyone's safe!"
"Well done." Steve looked down at the young Master.
He could sense that this soul, who in the original tale should have already begun to accumulate karma and trauma, was shining with its native clarity and brilliance.
This was the result he had hoped for.
"The conquest of the first Lostbelt is now complete."
He snapped his fingers, and the screen behind him lit up with "MISSION COMPLETE."
"Ritsuka, Mash—go rest."
"Understood."
"For tonight's victory feast, Emiya will personally prepare the finest borscht worthy of a celebration."
"Hooray!!"
Cheering, Ritsuka and Mash ran off toward the lounge, and even Goredolf—muttering that this unscientific withdrawal was an affront to magical etiquette—honestly made for the canteen anyway.
Steve's smile grew wider.
He turned his head, his gaze seemingly piercing the warship's armor and traversing fantasy space, staring directly at the panicking sphere far away.
[So, Maris... Do you like this gift?]
He muttered to himself, a hint of the outsider's cunning in his eyes.
If you want to manipulate Human Order, then we'll play by your rules for a while.