In the deepest darkness, in the coldest sea, and in the bottom of a soundless abyss, that which knew not of life, lived in a suffocating isolation disturbed only by the sound of fleeting waves.

Droplets fall upon a water's surface, creating ripples in the stillness that had been its life from the very beginning.

Reaching, calling, it strode onward even if that desire was poisoned fruit…

The humanoid figure of a supposed 'monster' materialized before a glowing Norse Run representing the symbol of the Norse God of Mischief.

Its eyes were slitted, its breath oozing with a toxic purple gas; its skin was pale covered from head to toe in steel-like scale harder than mythical armour; hair stretched down from its back, never cut, frayed, or tangled, shining with snow's frost.

Knowing not of weapons or steel, its body itself was a divine construct of the highest caliber such that even in a weakened vessel, space constricted around it. Its teeth were claws, its nails, talons that wrought poison in its wake.

It was an entity that foretold thunder's silence and lightning's end.

In the illumination of a bolt of an errant lighting strike hitting the ground behind it, the humanoid figure stared up at the heavens with neither malice nor curiosity. Instead, instinct took over.

If prophecy spoke of death, then it might as well have been the strongest curse through no fault of one's own.

All it had done was live, and yet through divination, its life was dedicated solely to play a part in its own death.

The striking lightning abruptly redirected and struck the man, but like a robust lightning rod, the energy and voltage was harmlessly dispersed beneath his feet.

Alfia gawked, unable to stop herself from staring as her life had flashed before her eyes. However, Apollo was keener as he sensed the overflowing divinity of the being that materialized through some sort of chain summoning.

'Loki.'

That energy was unmistakable considering the Loki Familia had been one of the families to fill in the power gap in wake of the Zeus and Hera Familia's downfalls.

Yet this was different.

Staring up at the sky, a forked tongue escaped the being's mouth. As if testing the air, its reptilian pupils focused intently at Zeus who stared back.

It knew not of speech, nor recognized the need to converse when it had been banished into an empty void from its birth, but its body inherently understood from the beginning.

Its birth that foretold lightning's ruin came through no fault of its own, but through fate and destiny. Just as fate marked Holmes against Moriarty, so too was the great Serpent marked against lightning.

It might not have been the same fated adversary, but symbolism was powerful.

The symbol of the snake smitted by lightning was the very same in another pantheon.

Strength is born from legend.

The fangs that peeked out from the being's lips gave way to a mouth hissing in confrontation, as Zeus's divinity clashed directly with that of Loki's.

From the being's perspective, the beckoning aura which had drawn him here was being oppressed and destroyed.

It knew not of concepts like 'father' or 'mother,' only that this divinity was tied to that of its own.

That that which had called to it, needed it, acknowledged it.

-And some foreign Divinity was attempting to subdue and destroy it?

Like a child throwing a tantrum.

That was all the reason it needed to bare its fangs at the tumultuous heavens and bring about the start of a new Ragnarök in place of a brother it never knew.

From the earth, Loki's divinity condensed into a thick emerald hue, and to the sky, Zeus's lightning was the azure itself.

Zeus narrowed his eyes, his attention shifting at the sight of open rebellion from a foreign land's divinity.

No, what garnered Zeus's attention the most was the hairs rising at the back of his neck. Everything has its bane, and as a God of Lightning, Zeus could sense it.

A natural enemy.

A Demi-God that could rival a God of Lightning through the power of fate and legend.

"Who is that?" Alfia muttered; hands clasped firmly around the black bow Shirou had Traced for her.

Meanwhile, Apollo kept his mouth shut, intent on biding his time for an opportunity. His eyes were bloodshot, and his breaths were coarse, but he cared not.

The being moved first, neither fast nor slow, but its presence grew heavier and heavier as it bent its knees and leapt towards the sky.

Tongue of lightning struck at it from all angles, but even these bolts began to appear tiny.

The being's body was growing.

From the original six feet, in the blink of an eye, it had doubled its size, and again with the next blink. Its arms fell to its sides, its legs pressed firmly together, as its spine began to elongate to reveal what it truly was:

A Divine Serpent that traverses through lightning.

Thunder echoed, yet bigger and bigger did it grow under the muted watch of all. A single segment of scales could cover the horizon, poison mist wafting from its entire being.

Legends told of a snake that spanned the world, banished to the depths, it rested with its tail kept in its mouth. Its body formed the line of jagged mountains, its poison the heated waters of acidic hot springs and sulphuric geysers.

In its wake, the lightning that scorched and pierced could never land a critical blow. It's opened maw dwarfed Zeus's current size by several factors of ten.

Its name was derived from two Nordic words.

Jorm of the giants.

Gandr of Elongation.

Together, they formed the name of the entity cast away from birth.

Jörmungandr.

Its opened maw revealed rows of poisonous fangs that dripped with venom. Not even the lightning could stop its charge. For all the damage the lightning did to scorch, blacken, and spasm, Jorm's sheer size continued to propel it forward.

Indeed, from end to end, none could see where Jorm's body began and terminated, even as far as the horizon.

Its true name was actualized in a Noble Phantasm not explicitly said, but invoked through its own will in acknowledgment of its body as its symbol.

The World Serpent.

Its current body could not hope to bear the weight of its legend, just as this version of Zeus could only display more of his power through the Grail Fragment.

However, it did not matter.

Massive spines jutting from hardened scales, already splintered and shattered from writhing lightning, fell down like rain, splotches of divine blood raining overhead.

Yet still, the snake persisted, locking Zeus in place as the enormity of its hyper-extended may sought to swallow him whole.

It was a foolish endeavor. Although they may have stood on the same level if summoned on the same playing field, Zeus had a source of energy Jorm did not.

Lightning erupted and formed into a towering giant with Zeus at its center. Its size, though not as long, rivaled Jorm's in height. The comparison was similar to a man against an anaconda. Grabbing the snake with tendrils of arcing electricity, it began to scorch the serpent from inside out.

The pained hiss echoed throughout, but even more than that was the tenacity in the serpent's eyes.

While its body scorched and spasmed from an untold number of volts, its frame began to coil and wrap around Zeus's electric giant, trapping Zeus within as it began to constrict. Inevitably, Zeus could release his gigantic form, but doing so put him at risk of the snake's poison emitted from its fangs and scales.

Coiling around his arms, over his legs, and even around his neck, the world serpent, even if momentarily, took Zeus to a stalemate. A prolonged battle was out of the question. In its current manifestation, Jorm had had no chance to prevail to begin with. Yet, reason was not an aspect it considered in its immaturity and lack of experience. These fleeting emptions that spurred it into action were born of an unquenchable yearning that would lead it to ruin.

Alfia bristled, her body glowing with the faint aura of the Sun's divinity as her arms notched the bow in preparation to fire. And yet, it was met with confusion as Alfia's grip lacked strength.

"You fool!" Apollo's voice boomed from atop Alfia's head. "There's no room to hesitate!"

Up above, the coiled serpent continued to restrict the giant of lightning, but lacerations were forming over the skin of its numerous spines. Corded muscles were exposed, but even those began to stretch and tear as the giant grabbed hold and began pulling.

Pitiful shrieking echoed as a segment of the world's serpent's tail was torn off and cauterized by lightning.

"Do you not see how the serpent struggles?!" Apollo yelled, causing Alfia to stare up above in the direction Apollo's arrow aimed.

"You'll shoot them both." Alfia whispered quietly, blood trickling down from her finger tips and down her arms from the tensile strength of the Black Bow.

The target was Zeus at the center, but to reach him who was restrained, there was no avoiding the snake that constricted its enormous body hundreds of times around him, binding the giant's arms and legs.

To repay aid with enmity, Alfia had never stooped that low, and yet-

"Then so be it."

Alfia had forgotten.

She wasn't dealing with another human, but a God who'd already weighed the scale of right and wrong using his own life as the balance.

Apollo's Divinity surged. Its sheer potency unable to be restricted as the source of power was the God's divine spark itself. That which made Apollo who he was as a God.

Alfia who had already allowed the partial possession could only watch as her arms were forcibly steadied, and her breathing rhythm set in tune with the arrow to be shot.

She would have cursed, regretted, or even rebelled, but there was no justification.

Deep inside she already knew it.

Despite Apollo's actions, she couldn't claim to have no fault. As much as she allowed Apollo to use her body, the fact that he was doing it so easily revealed her own demons.

It was Caster's life or the snake.

Subconsciously, Alfia was already swayed. She'd just needed a reason to assuage the gnawing guilt of stabbing the back of an entity that had lent its aid to them.

The sun's piercing light would illuminate even the deepest darkness, forsaking those who dwelt within.

The arrow of the Sun, successor of Helios, flew against the heavens coalescing all that made Apollo a God.

To burn bright in the darkest hour.

He who brings light in the day, and life to the moon.

"-Velos Apollona!"

The arrow struck true with unerring accuracy and penetrating power.

It was a strike that would never bring down Zeus. Despite using his own life force, the difference in power was too vast. However, everything changed if Apollo staked his very life and essence on inflicting a single wound.

Massive scales, already splintered and shattered from writhing lightning, fell down like rain, splotches of divine blood raining overhead.

The arrow, with the sun's light bound around it, gored and cauterized a hole directly through the World Serpent's middle, severing the giant body in half. At the same time, Zeus who floated at the core of the lightning giant was also struck, an arm missing; the very one that held the fragment of the Holy Grail.

What Apollo had staked his life on wasn't Zeus's death, but for the chance for his son to live. Without that fragment that even made the One-Eyed Black Dragon into an unstoppable force, what could this younger Zeus do?

Apollo vanished into particles of fine golden dust, shimmering into embers scattered down from the sky.

In its wake, the World Serpent began to tumble as the vessel containing its manifestation in this plane of existence began to break apart. From the clouds it fell, its enormous body rapidly shrinking. In doing so, it returned to its humanoid form, but it's injuries would not fade.

With the arrow Apollo had shot, Jorm's humanoid body was split in two from the waist down.

The lightning that scorched and ravaged his scales left their mark on his bisected torso. Filled with cuts and burns, there was not a single part left unscathed. The smallest mercy was that the heat of Apollo's arrow had cauterized the nearby tissue. Instead of dangling organs, blackened flesh and ashes were all that remained.

Jorm's torso hit the ground near Alfia, and closest to the initial Rune that had beckoned its arrival. Confusion was still blatant in its eyes, unable to understand what had happened while fighting to the death.

Face planted into a crater atop Mt. Epidaurus, Jorm's body twitched and spasmed. The mark of Loki identical to the very one that Loki inscribed upon her Familia was tattooed on Jorm's back. Yet its luster was faded and broken, leaking Loki's divinity without end.

Now more than ever though, with its own divinity bleeding away like a punctured air bag, Jorm's focus returned.

Jorm felt his vision grow clouded and weak, its body unable to draw breath as it could hardly muster the strength to crane his gaze up. Yet, still it did so, searching for that distant feeling of warmth and acceptance.

There, right there before him.

Now that Zeus's divinity was reeled in, it became ever clearer.

That distant Rune, and the mystery of what it represented to Jorm.

What was it? Who was it?

That feeling within it, it was longing.

Jorm was not a monster, not a poisonous snake, but a being born from a mother and a father in his own right.

Even predators recognized their kin.

With dying breaths, Jorm forced his body up and inched forward on his forearms until even they gave out. In the end, he stretched an arm forward, fingers splayed to reach towards it in vain.

He who only ever knew and endless abyss was shown light.

He no longer had legs. He no longer had his serpentine body to slither onward, but even until the final moment, he kept reaching towards that symbol.

Fate was cruel, but perhaps out of pity, his flailing divinity was accepted by the drawn rune of swords floating in the air.

Even if it was just for an instant, this distant feeling within Jorm that resonated with his divinity, it let him peer through a veil. Not just any veil, but something closer, more intimate.

Jorm and the Divinity flowing through the Rune reached towards the other.

Resonating divinities touched and formed a bridge in a subconscious space for just the two.

/-/

Two figures stood apart, so close, yet separated by a seemingly insurmountable divide in a dark space filled with hazy smoke.

Jorm recognized it as home, but the other figure recoiled in horror as it took the scenery in.

Two gazes stared at each other. One was short, the other even smaller, barely reaching up to one's shin.

Belying its massive size and power, Jorm's actual being was nothing more than a child's. The wounds hadn't transferred in this space, but the cuts and bruises on Jorm represented the life it led navigating through the hostile abyss from the day it was born.

And across from Jorm, was none other than Loki who slitted eyes had long since opened fully.

"Y-You're…!"

Jorm did not understand the words, expressing itself in the only way it knew how.

It knew not of language or social interaction, but its current humanoid vessel did it for it.

Its eyes misted over, crying in a way that stunned Loki's rambling silent. Even now, Jorm reached its hand towards Loki, the yearning palpable. In this subconscious space fueled by divine blood and aura, Jorm still strode onward knowing its main body was trapped in this abyss awaiting the day of Ragnarök.

It could not stop itself. It was imprinted instinct.

Yet in the end.

In the end.

There was not enough energy to bridge the gap.

In the end, Jorm's manifestation would reach nothing, and touch nothing, still yearning for that distant figure.

The miracle was nothing more than a miracle of encounter.

/-/

Jorm's body began to fade as it grew still. Even the hand that it had reached forward fell limp, stopping just short of Alfia's feet as its slitted eyes finally closed.

Pain faded as life faded, but along with it, Loki's divinity maddeningly flooded the area from the source of the Kanas Rune created by Shirou. It was so dense that the ground compacted, and violent wind began to stir. Yet, no matter how much divinity was poured, the broken vessel was a broken vessel.

It would not fill.

Alfia took a shuddering breath, but was unwilling to avert her gaze from her own actions. "Thank you…and sorry."

From the golden motes of light breaking off of Jorm's body, Alfia mistakenly inferred that he was being assimilated to the Dungeon as all those who died within do.

"Caster, he can…fix this," Alfia pursed her lips, trying to convince herself that she'd made the right decision.

Apollo was dead.

All that lingered were the remnant pieces of his Divinity floating down from where his arrow had struck Zeus and severed the arm holding the Holy Grail Fragment. He would no longer return even to the upper world.

But his sacrifice was not without merit.

Zeus's source of power was eliminated, and all that was left were remnant coils of writhing lightning up high.

Still, Alfia could think of other problems later. Her feet carried her onward, and her legs strode longer and longer as she struggled to reach Caster's prone form.

Utterly exhausted, Alfia wouldn't have been surprised if she keeled over and fainted. Of the entire group of five that chose to accompany Caster into this Dungeon's depths, only she had survived.

A death rate of eighty percent.

Truly it was a tragedy, but regardless of the sacrifice, Alfia could console herself with rationality.

No matter how many died, so long as Caster-

"None may rebel against the heavens."

Alfia's pupils constricted as the clouds darkened above once more. Having lost his source of power, it was all but assumed that the Zeus created in this Dungeon would fade, yet Alfia could never have known the true mechanics of this floor were closer to that of a separate alternative world.

She fell to her knees in disbelief.

Zeus, mighty Zeus, King of the Pantheon.

That bastard was still imperiously casting judgement from up high even as his body was fading away.

The source of power sustaining Zeus was lost, but Zeus was easily able to condense his lingering divinity to form a bolt of lightning stronger than anything he'd thrown so far. It was his final strike; one made through all the power he had left within him just to prove a point.

That bolt, it was aimed at Caster.

But the one targeted in question had long since opened his eyes from the moment Alfia had fired Apollo's final arrow.

However, his focus wasn't even on Zeus.

Instead, his gaze lingered on the remnants of the Sun floating down as embers from the air. It was death. The true death of a God who insisted he was his son.

Slowly, Caster reached out amid the fading sun's warmth.

The Grail Fragment landed in his outstretched palm.

"Father," The word escaped Caster's lips with an indescribable emotion as his body basked in the sun's warmth and protection even now.

Caster's fingers clamped around the fragment, the divinity of the sun igniting.

"…You shitty old geezer."

Caster silently covered his eyes.

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