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Blackness.
Infinite, all-encompassing blackness.
But within this void, Haru could feel himself being carried, like drifting along a current, a sensation similar to being in the Campione World's Netherworld.
This place, like the Netherworld, was a realm of the spirit, a world of consciousness, but without any discernible landscape or features. Just nothingness.
"So, like the Netherworld, I navigate by thought?"
He imagined himself taking a step, and the sensation of drifting vanished. He was no longer in the current.
He looked down, but there was nothing there. Then, an image, a scene, appeared, floating beside him.
It was Kiritsugu Emiya, unconscious, being guided by Alaya, their hands clasped together as they formed a contract, his soul bound to her will—a Counter Guardian.
He looked up, and more images appeared, floating above him like memories.
Iskandar, riding across a vast desert.
Lancelot, old and weary, kneeling in prayer before a statue of Jesus Christ in a monastery.
Diarmuid, lying wounded in a field, his gaze fixed on the sky above.
"What is this place?" Haru murmured.
"The river below—is the timeline."
"And this—is the Throne of Heroes, which exists above the timeline."
Two voices, ethereal and feminine, echoed in his mind.
Color flooded his vision. He stood in a small, white room, the walls, the floor, the ceiling, the furniture—all pristine white.
His gaze was drawn to a white tea table, and the two small figures sitting across from him.
One, with long, black hair tied back with a black and violet ribbon, wore a sheer, black dress trimmed with purple lace, black thigh-highs clinging to her slender legs. Her face was delicate, her amber eyes bright and intelligent.
"Yay! Yay! This outfit is so cute!~" The black-haired girl twirled, admiring her dress.
"…Mmm." The other girl, with long, golden hair and a black hairband, nodded, a soft hum escaping her lips.
She wore a white, semi-transparent dress trimmed with black lace, and knee-high white stockings with black trim, her appearance radiating an ethereal beauty.
Haru stared at them, his mind reeling from the sudden influx of information. The black-haired girl was Gaia. The golden-haired girl was Alaya.
They had taken forms that appealed to him. Freshly out of their loli forms, their sheer dresses clinging to their bodies, their thighs and legs on full display, the two Counter Forces had manifested in a way that perfectly matched his tastes.
"Why—do you look like this?" he asked, his voice a bit strained. They were too perfect.
"We have no fixed form," Gaia replied, her amber eyes filled with a childlike curiosity as she examined her black thigh-highs, pulling them down to her knees, then back up, a playful smile on her face.
"Our appearance, our personalities, they reflect your desires. You seem pleased. We'll keep these forms then," Alaya said, her voice calm and even.
"My desires?" Haru stroked his chin, looking at his two mothers.
"I don't quite understand human thoughts, Onee-chan. What's Haru-chan thinking about?" Gaia tilted her head, her brow furrowed in confusion.
"Impregnation. Leg fetish. Oral sex. Those were his thoughts—when he saw us," Alaya replied, her voice emotionless, her gaze distant.
"Oh? Haru-chan wants that? You naughty boy—But very well…" Gaia giggled, lifting the hem of her dress, her voice a seductive purr.
Before she could continue, Haru, a mischievous glint in his eyes, appeared behind her, his arms wrapping around her slender waist—his hands exploring.
She'd practically invited him.
But as he was about to take things further—Alaya's voice, cool and ethereal, echoed in his ear.
"Gaia's internal body temperature is seven thousand degrees Celsius. Perhaps you'd like to—experience that?"
Haru froze.
"Onee-chan! You're so mean! You could have let him—find out for himself!" Gaia pouted, glaring at Alaya before leaping from Haru's grasp and landing beside her sister.
"Our body temperature is adjustable," Alaya said, her gaze fixed on Haru.
"Really?!" Gaia's eyes widened in mock surprise.
Haru, watching Gaia's performance, his lips twitched. Before meeting them, he'd imagined the Counter Force as scheming, manipulative entities.
And now, they'd adopted personalities based on his expectations. To avoid any further—complications, it was best to get straight to the point.
"Tell me—how do I reach the Root?"
Alaya's movements stilled, her gaze turning distant.
Gaia, however, conjured a sphere of light, which shot towards Haru, exploding in his mind, a torrent of information flooding his consciousness.
"The methods for reaching the Root—and returning—are within," she said with a smile.
"Don't stay too long. Once you've touched the Root, once you've acquired the designation of Mystery—return immediately. Don't interact—with anything else. Your consciousness—it could be—assimilated," Alaya said, her voice calm, yet laced with concern.
"She's right. While you can use negative energy to shield yourself, your consciousness isn't strong enough to withstand the Root's emptiness for long," Gaia added, her expression serious.
Haru didn't question how she knew about his ability to manipulate negative energy. The Counter Force was omnipresent. They knew everything he did. He'd accepted that long ago.
He nodded, his face grim, acknowledging the danger, and then he vanished, stepping into the void, towards the Root.
"Should we have allowed him to go, Gaia? It's too dangerous. He's our only hope," Alaya said, her voice filled with a quiet worry.
"He'll be fine—probably…" Gaia murmured, her gaze distant.
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