In response to Kotomine Kirei's question, which radiated the murderous intent and despair of a beast in captivity, Steve simply wore a calm smile—one that almost seemed indifferent. Without a care for the other's body, tense to its absolute limits, or the black keys silently slipping from his fingertips, Steve wandered nonchalantly about the chapel as if he were meeting an old friend.
"Relax, Father kotomine,"
His voice rang out clearly through the empty church. "I've come with no ill will."
"Contrary to your worst-case scenario, I'm here to help you."
He strolled over to a row of benches, brushing away the thin layer of dust that had settled atop one with his fingers. For a moment, his gaze pierced beyond time and space, back to ten years ago.
"The Holy Grail War a decade ago was quite an interesting affair, wasn't it?"
"Nearly all the Masters and their Servants attained their wishes in the most perfect way and survived in peace."
"A joyous feast for all—a hymn to miracles."
As Steve reminisced, a faint gloom shadowed his tone.
But for Kotomine Kirei, these words were more unpleasant than the most malignant curse.
He had been the only one forcibly cast out early from that grand banquet—the only one who couldn't even watch the final curtain call. A pitiful loser.
"Of course… there were exceptions."
Steve shifted the topic and glanced back at Kirei. "For example… Father Kotomine."
"And your servant, Hassan of the Hundred Faces."
"I distinctly recall that famed Banquet of Three Kings had already begun before I officially got involved."
"Your Servant, after witnessing the true king through the King of Conqueror's Noble Phantasm, vanished without a trace."
"As a result, you lost your qualification as a Master early and were permanently expelled from the game."
"And then, a mere two days later, due to my plan, the Holy Grail War ended far sooner than anyone expected."
Steve paused and turned, gazing keenly at Kirei's face—where old wounds seemed to reopen, deepening his expression with darkness. Speaking gently, with a voice full of regret, he continued,
"Everyone was saved. Only you… weren't there for the final wish."
"I'm truly sorry, Father… It's always weighed on me."
"The torment you've sought answers to your whole life wasn't resolved before that wish-granting omnipotence."
His words were precise—as though they peeled away, layer by layer, the hardened shell built up by Kirei's faith and asceticism.
Kirei felt a flush of shame and heat creep into his cheeks.
Indeed… he was always the loser—whether as a magus or a seeker of truth.
While others received miraculous blessings, he hid in this cold church, numbing himself day after day with meaningless labor, tasting the pain no one else could understand.
"But," Steve said brightly, as if speaking of the weather, "thinking about the essence of your anguish, and after much consideration, I reached the same conclusion as that white-haired priest from another world—simply:
'If your problem could be fixed so easily, that wouldn't be good for the innocent citizens of this town.'"
"Aside from Hassan's wish, I couldn't grant your wish back then. It would have conflicted, at its core, with everyone else's."
"If I forced you to realize your wish, I'd just end up going against the world itself."
"That's why I spent the last ten years ignoring you—letting you live here on your own."
"In the end, I realized: a suffering Kotomine Kirei is much safer than a happy Kotomine Kirei, isn't that so?"
This reserved confession was more damaging than any malicious taunt.
It meant that his struggles, fights, and prayers over the past decade had all been watched, observed, and labeled as harmless by this man.
He felt like a specimen sealed in a glass box. Every movement was recorded and then discarded as inert.
"But," Steve's voice rang out again, pulling Kirei from the abyss of humiliation, "today is special…"
"This is the day your fate comes to its end."
"Now that you know the truth, you no longer have the power to create further drama—your time for answers has come and gone."
"That's why, abandoning my policy of non-interference, I've come to see you one last time."
"At the very least, today, on the last day of your life, I want to answer the question buried in your heart."
He walked slowly toward Kirei—the distance between them now less than three meters.
Amid the church's foul rot, Kirei could even catch a faint, fresh scent, as if of grass after rain, utterly at odds with the decay around him.
"This is neither arrogance nor pity."
Steve's eyes were clear and deep, like they reflected the paths of stars.
"Mercy… that is the final gift to an interesting soul at the end of its journey."
"Mercy…"
Kotomine Kirei ground out the word, clenching his teeth.
As a priest, he understood its weight more than anyone.
It was the love of God for mankind—the ultimate blessing.
Yet hearing these words from this enigmatic, unpredictable man instilled in him a shudder that was almost blasphemous.
Was this an envoy of God… or Satan masquerading as an angel of light?
Exactly as his heart, torn by the contradictions in his faith, stood on the brink of shattering, Steve posed the final question—the one that would decide his destiny.
"So, Father Kotomine… make your choice."
Steve held up two fingers, his smile gentle, luminous, almost divine.
"Would you rather hear my answer, based on personal observation and rational analysis, as a member of humanity—or…"
"Should I ask your Lord for you—the one you've served for over thirty years—and hear the official answer He has prepared for you, however overdue?"
In that instant, time seemed to freeze.
A deathly silence settled over the chapel.
Kotomine Kirei's breathing grew faster, the only sound left as tension pressed in.
He stared at Steve—his usual blank expression twisting for the first time, caught between ecstasy, terror, suspicion, and a sickly craving.
The answer he'd pursued all his life was now presented to him in two utterly different forms.
Was this ultimate salvation—or the most malicious of jokes?
…