IBHJ 1349

They were still chatting on the moon when a familiar voice rang out through the chamber.

“Eh? Tethys? Shirou? What are you two doing here?”

That voice—

Shirou glanced around. No body in sight, but he was used to that by now. “…Moromaya, is that you?”

“Yup, it’s me,” came the reply.

Tethys tilted her head. “Weren’t you working on planetary environments back on the homeworld? What brought you here?”

“I came to borrow Mooncell from Moon-chan,” Moromaya said without hesitation. “After speaking with Fujimaru Shirou, I took on a new project—to revive and stabilize the lost Worlds that disappeared because of us. But I’ve hit a wall and need Mooncell’s processing power.”

Tethys let out a soft chuckle. “That’s a noble goal. But Mooncell’s off-limits right now. Gaia’s using it to analyze the Golden Universe.”

“Ah… what a shame.” he sounded genuinely disappointed.

Shirou stepped in. “So you’ve figured out a way to bring back the lost worlds as parallels?”

He brightened at the question. “I’ve figured out how to restore them, yes. But keeping them stable and making sure they hold as separate, independent worlds—that’s where I’m stuck. That’s why I came for Mooncell. But if Gaia’s using it, I’ll wait.”

Even with the setback, his tone stayed calm. He offered a polite goodbye and faded from the chamber, a little more hopeful than before. Maybe Gaia would be finished soon.

Once he was gone, silence settled in again. Shirou stood still for a moment, then muttered,

“…Maybe it’s better that Mooncell didn’t end up in his hands.”

Tethys blinked. “Why do you say that?”

Shirou didn’t answer right away. He wasn’t sure himself. Could the lost worlds Moromaya was trying to bring back be the early prototypes of the Connection Points?

Tiamat and Heaven’s Corpse—at least, the ones he’d encountered in the future—had both claimed those strange phenomena played a key role in the birth of the Lord of Salvation. But the details were hazy. Too much about the Lord still didn’t make sense. All they could do now was move forward, one step at a time.

Still… if the war between the Origin Civilization and the Golden Universe had been the true spark behind the Lord’s creation—

Then maybe Gaia’s plan to wipe out the Golden Universe wasn’t just retaliation. Maybe it was the only way to erase the Lord of Salvation.

After bidding Moon-chan a quiet goodbye, Tethys placed the sliced-off chunk of photonic crystal into a quantum bubble and handed it over to the Origin Beings. Their mission was to dissect its structure, uncover the core logic behind the Golden Universe, and map out its full framework.

Uranus didn’t return. Maybe Gaia’s reassurances had been enough to keep him from interfering. That gave Tethys room to continue her work—developing the trinary ecosystem and replicating the Trees of Origin.

Time passed. One by one, enormous starships began to gather at the edge of Gaia’s territory.

A fleet the size of a nebula now hovered in deep space, silent and ready.

Shirou thought Gaia would send him with them. It seemed like the obvious choice.

But she shook her head.

“You can’t go.”

He blinked. “Why not?”

The Lord of Salvation had come from this ancient war. Shirou wanted to see the Golden Universe for himself. Maybe, just maybe, he could find something—some weakness, some answer.

But Gaia was firm.

“You have a more important task.”

She stood and pointed toward the edge of the cosmos—toward the vortex Shirou had passed through to reach this era.

“Just a short while ago, a streak of light passed through the vortex. It didn’t touch us physically, but… it might be linked to this Lord of Salvation you mentioned.”

Shirou’s brow furrowed.

A light came through the vortex…?

Did something happen in the future?

…

From Gaia’s orbital stations, streaks of light launched one after another, flaring like a meteor shower across the starless void.

Each beam carried a warship—massive vessels armed with cannons strong enough to collapse stars.

They were the will of Origin Gaia made manifest, soaring across entire systems toward the Golden Universe.

But Shirou wasn’t among them.

Instead, Cosmic Alaya had transported him—placing him before the Vortex Gate.

Using the mud to bind himself to the quantum particles of this reality, he anchored his body in place, resisting the gravitational pull of nearby celestial bodies.

His eyes were sharp, locked on the swirling black vortex embedded in the boundary of space.

The Vortex Gate.

And he knew—this wasn’t the same “Gate” the Lord of Salvation wanted to open.

This was the passage that had brought him here. The link between this sealed Origin Era, closed off by the Gate of Truth, and his own future.

[This is as far as I can take you, Master Shirou. If you ever require my aid, just call my name. This region still falls under my network coverage. I can respond at once.]

Cosmic Alaya’s voice echoed in his mind.

He gave a small nod. “Thanks. I’m counting on you.”

[Always at your service, dear guest.]

With that, Cosmic Alaya’s signal faded.

Origin Gaia had already launched its strike on the Golden Universe, and most of Alaya’s quantum processing was now being rerouted to support the massive fleet’s wormhole transfers.

Once Alaya’s presence faded, Shirou turned back toward the Vortex Gate, his brow tightening.

Beyond the swirling gate—there was nothing.

No sign of the future. No sky, no land. Just a cold, silent void.

And yet… the Flower of Evil had already picked up dozens of malicious gazes slipping through from the other side.

That malice—it felt disturbingly familiar. The same scent that clung to Abigail.

There was no mistaking it.

They were from the Outer Gods.

Just as Origin Gaia had warned, something had changed. The transdimensional entities lurking in the future were now looking back—across the divide, across light-years and time. They were watching this era through the Vortex Gate.

And it wasn’t just them.

Terror. Dread. Fury. Wave after wave of raw emotion surged through the gate—countless negative feelings drawn from the collective unconscious of humanity’s future. The Flower of Evil absorbed it all, refining the malice into pure mana.

Something… had definitely happened in the real world.

That wasn’t speculation anymore. It was fact.

Even though the Lord of Salvation had chased him into this era, its claws were still sunk deep into the future.

“…Should I use the contingency plans?”

A flicker passed through Shirou’s eyes. He wasn’t the type to gamble without a fallback. During that half-year of recovery, he’d planned for this. Just in case.

The Lord of Salvation had wielded the power of the Source itself—and it wasn’t just powerful. It was clever. Manipulative.

And its behavior didn’t add up.

If it had already manifested… if it had forced the Enlightened One to retreat—

Then why let him, the inheritor of the Vortex, awaken without resistance?

Why allow him to claim that legacy without challenge?

And when Sixth Seat was annihilated by the Arrow of Akasha, the Lord hadn’t so much as flinched.

Shirou hadn’t wanted to think too deeply about it. But the truth had always been there, lingering at the edges of his mind.

Sixth Seat, Demonic Bodhisattva—even Lev—they were all just pawns. Expendable.

What the Lord truly wanted… was him.

For Shirou to awaken. To rise as the full Heir of the Vortex.

Because the collision of their Vortexes—his and the Lord’s—was the key.

The key to unlocking this sealed Origin Era. The key to opening the Vortex Gate.

This era held the answer. It also held the risk of freeing the Lord from the Gate of Truth.

And there was no way the Lord of Salvation would sit back and let him act freely.

It would strike. It had to.

That was why Shirou had built not one but two contingency plans into his preparations.

The only question now was—

Was it time to use them?

Before he could decide, a flicker of light pulsed in the void beyond the Vortex Gate.

A sharp glint. Then a sudden whoosh.

It shot toward him like a bullet.

Shirou dodged on instinct.

The glint streaked past him and disappeared into the depths of space.

He stared at the swirling black gate. “If the present is destroyed… what’s the point of saving the future?”

Without waiting, he threw his head back and shouted, “Alaya! Protect my body!”

[Understood.]

The response came instantly. A wave of informational shielding surged around him, forming a protective field that sealed him off from the hostile vacuum of space.

He exhaled slowly, eyes closing as his thoughts grew still.

The mud withdrew into his body—and in that moment, his consciousness began to drift, detaching from the flesh, guided by the mud at its core.

A beacon. A tether.

And across the vastness of space, that tether stretched out… reaching for a distant point far beyond the stars.