Simultaneous Transmigration: We Share a Role-Playing System

Chapter 124 The Great Six Denied the Ending

Five years have passed in the blink of an eye. The mornings at the London Clock Tower are always shrouded in a lingering mist and the scent of parchment.

Emiya Shirou woke up very early; the morning mist outside the window had not yet dissipated, and pale golden sunlight had just peeked through the gap in the curtains.

He looked down at Rin Tohsaka, who was sleeping peacefully in his arms. The girl's cheeks still showed signs of fatigue from staying up all night, and her hands were still tightly clutching the hem of his pajamas, like an insecure little kitten.

He held his breath and slowly pulled his arm, which had gone numb from being used as a pillow, out. His fingertips gently smoothed the furrow in her brow, his movements incredibly tender.

For Shirou, Rin, this magical genius, was already a peak that he could never surpass in his entire life.

However, even Rin, who was in the ivory tower of the Clock Tower, which gathered the top elites of the entire magic world, could only barely make it into the first tier. And because he was not in line with the orthodox magic system, he became the most inconspicuous one in the crowd.

But as a participant in the Fifth Holy Grail War, Shirou never cared about the ranks, empty titles, or the opinions of others within the Clock Tower.

He only ever did what he believed was right, honing his unique projection magic day after day, helping Rin analyze the ancient magic artifacts she brought back from the collection room, tirelessly completing his physical and sword training, and quietly staying by Rin's side.

But he didn't know when it started, but over the past year, his anxiety had been growing stronger.

It was as if there was an invisible pendulum deep within his soul, urging him day and night, pushing him to go faster and be stronger.

Every night as he fell asleep, he would have the same dream over and over again: a great sword burning with golden holy fire, illuminating the dark starry river and helping him resist the whispers of chaos. But no matter how hard he reached out, he could not grasp the hilt of the sword, nor could he remember where it belonged.

He always clearly felt that he had forgotten something incredibly important, forgotten someone etched into his soul, and his heart, his body, his magic loops were all desperately trying to send hints, wanting to awaken that completely sealed memory.

The bacon sizzled softly in the frying pan, and the sweet aroma of warm milk filled the entire kitchen. Shirou Emiya was distracted, holding the spatula, when the image of the greatsword burning with holy fire from his dream flashed uncontrollably through his mind again. Suddenly, the phone rang, interrupting his chaotic thoughts.

He glanced down at his phone screen, and the anxiety and confusion that had lingered in his eyes for nearly a year vanished instantly. A gentle smile unconsciously appeared on his lips. He wiped his hands, pressed the answer button, and greeted him familiarly, "Hi, Teaching Assistant Victor, good morning. How can I help you?"

A clear, cheerful voice came from the other end of the phone, tinged with a hint of helpless teasing: "Shirou, aren't you being a little too polite? We've known each other for five years now. If you're too polite, it'll just make us feel distant."

The story begins five years ago on a London afternoon.

Shirou Emiya bumped into Viktor, a fellow student of similar age, who was handing out flyers on the street; it was their first public encounter.

From the very first glance, Shirou Emiya had a strange feeling that he and this person had known each other for a very, very long time.

Even if the other person always says nonsensical things or does strange things, as long as you are with him, the turmoil of unease and confusion in your heart will strangely subside, and you will feel an irreplaceable sense of security.

Especially after discovering that this seemingly unreliable boy was actually the head teaching assistant of the most popular El-Melloi classroom in the Clock Tower, Shirou Emiya spent almost all his time in the El-Melloi classroom, except for Rin's required classes.

This incident even prompted Rin Tohsaka to repeatedly stand with her hands on her hips and complain, wondering if he had been assimilated by the land of Britain, and even his sexual orientation had to change.

"Okay, Viktor, what's up? Is there a problem with my previous paper assignment?"

"No, that's not it. There's something else going on. Lord El-Melloi II wants to ask you and Rin Tohsaka some questions."

"What's wrong?"

"Regarding the Holy Grail War."

The morning mist in London had not yet dissipated. Outside the coffee shop where he and Shirou first met five years ago, Locke was sitting at a table outside the shop, hanging up the phone.

Locke had just informed Shirou Emiya and Rin Tohsaka, without missing a single word, that the Fuyuki Holy Grail War would be restarted in Snowfield City, USA. After confirming that the two would be back on time at the Clock Tower's underground lecture hall, Locke casually hung up the phone. The moment he looked up, his gaze fell precisely on the uninvited guest across from him.

The newcomer was tall and robust, with neat, short, dark gray hair. His well-tailored dark suit coat concealed all the unusual aura around him. Only his eyes, half of which were the ultimate rationality of a scholar who had been immersed in magic for a hundred years, and the other half were a chaotic abyss churning with endless bestiality, were fixed on Locke without blinking.

His gaze was so intense it bordered on greed, like that of a fanatical scientist who had finally discovered the ultimate subject that would win him the Nobel Prize and revolutionize the entire academic world.

Locke looked at the other party curiously, and said with a smile, "Well then, what brings you here, uninvited guest? Or should I address you as—Nero Chaos, the tenth seat of the Twenty-Seven Dead Apostles, of the Chaos Group?"

Nero Chaos did not answer Locke's question immediately. After thinking for a while, he slowly replied, "I cannot deconstruct the underlying logic of your existence, nor can I analyze the operating principle of your erasure of the entire world's memory. This is a cognitive blind spot that I have never encountered in the thousands of years since I became part of the Chaos Swarm."

I have no intention of being your enemy; my only desire is to obtain this unknown answer. And based on my lifelong research and logical judgment, you are the person most likely to help me reach this ultimate answer in my long existence.

Nero Chaos was one of the "people" who were dragged into the Reality Marble by Sigismund during the Holy Grail War five years ago, which was supposed to be a time warp.

He was originally a scholar from the Wandering Sea, another magical organization named after the Clock Tower. In order to achieve his own goals, he voluntarily became a Dead Apostle, wanting to understand the essence of life.

Over the long years and through research, the personality of the once wandering Sea scholar, Faubro Lowen, has been diluted; he is now merely the progenitor of the Dead Apostles, a chaotic mass of 666 life forms.

Because it was a collection of life forms, and because Locke himself had gone easy on them, Nero Chaos was able to retrieve fragments of memory from before he went back in time by piecing together the fragments. Based on those memories, he found the anomaly that caused all of this, which was Locke, now known as Victor.

That is to say, the Space Marine character card is no longer on him, otherwise even the Counter Force wouldn't be able to find itself, but he can find himself, making him even more powerful than the Counter Force.

Although he originally intended for Emiya Shirou and the others to gradually recall their past, he never expected that the first one to remember would be the Dead Apostle in front of him.

"How much do you remember?"

"Most of it. Including your entire future as the ruler of humanity, leading mankind across the stars and conquering the galaxy."

The air around Locke suddenly froze, as if the morning mist of London had been frozen by the murderous intent in his words. His smiling eyes were now filled with the absolute indifference of the Lord of Humanity towards the aliens: "Since you remember all this, you should know that I am an absolute human supremacist. All non-human life forms are nothing more than aliens that should be eradicated in my eyes."

His voice was low, yet carried a weight capable of crushing stars: "And you, a non-human Dead Apostle, dare to stand before me?"

Faced with this overwhelming intent to annihilate, Nero Chaos remained firmly seated, like a detached observer, his tone calm and unwavering, each word based on his absolute rational deduction: "My continuous observation has concluded: your hiding in the Clock Tower is essentially to supplement your magical knowledge, conceal your existence, and search for a way to achieve eternal existence. You currently lack the full power you possessed during the Holy Grail War, and pose no threat to me whatsoever."

He looked at Locke, his eyes, a mixture of reason and chaos, filled only with an intense curiosity about the unknown: "I've analyzed your logic; coercion won't work on you, so I'll choose to confront you directly. If you harbor exclusive hostility towards my current life form, I can selectively modify my own existential structure."

"So, you're threatening me?" Locke raised an eyebrow, a barely perceptible crack appearing on the rim of the coffee cup between his fingers.

"No." Nero Chaos remained expressionless, his tone devoid of any provocation, only a cold, objective statement. "I am merely confirming that you do not possess the power to completely annihilate me. This contact poses no risk to me whatsoever."

Hearing Nero's emotionless, machine-like speech, Locke chuckled softly, picked up the white porcelain coffee cup on the table, and took a sip of the slightly cool coffee.

Well, since the Holy Grail War is about to begin anyway, there's no need to hide it anymore. It's time to put the research we've done over the past five years into practice.

Just then, a noisy sound of footsteps came from across the street. A group of students in clock tower uniforms recognized him at a glance as he sat in the outdoor seating area.

In the Clock Tower, where family lineage and magical imprints are highly valued, the name "Victor," as a "new generation" without any foundation—that is, a completely first-generation magician—has always been the object of private ridicule among the sons of the old nobles.

Where did these country bumpkins come from, begging for food at our clock tower?

Although Locke himself didn't care about this at all, and was even happy to let this reputation fit the persona he had given Viktor, and was content to be his invisible teaching assistant, the people in El-Melloi II's classroom, especially Shirou Emiya, always kept this matter in mind.

Until one day, a group of outspoken noblemen mocked Locke's background in the most sarcastic way in front of Shirou. Unable to bear it any longer, Shirou immediately erupted and taught them a lesson. Although it caused quite a stir at the time, thanks to this incident, such open provocations gradually disappeared.

This incident also made Locke resentful of this old-fashioned group of people who had fallen to the point of being nothing but empty shells, yet still clung to their aristocratic sense of superiority. After all, they had always been the objects of contempt and oppression, and now that this had happened, they had been holding back, wanting to find an opportunity to retaliate.

Locke either stayed in the El-Melloi classroom or was inseparable from Lord El-Melloi II, never giving them a chance to make a move.

Until today, at this coincidence that was almost deliberate, this group of people were rushing to their early morning class, but someone suddenly got the idea to abandon the usual shortcut and take the long way around to this street next to the coffee shop.

Then they saw Locke sitting alone on the side of the street, with nothing to rely on, at least that's how it appeared to them.

They were completely unaware that sitting opposite Locke was the Twenty-Seventh Ancestor of the Dead Disciples, whose aura had been completely concealed and whose very existence was almost blended into the mist.

Just as the group of students, necks craned and with ill intent, surrounded Locke, about to teach him a lesson, the middle-aged man who had been sitting steadily opposite Locke, his face pale, moved.

His body seemed to suddenly lose its physical form, transforming into a surging black mist composed of countless tiny black shadows, which exploded backward at a speed completely beyond the limits of human reaction.

It wasn't just ordinary running and dodging; it was more like the entire person was being pulled backward by space, leaving only an almost invisible afterimage in the morning mist. The chair he was sitting in didn't even shake.

The students who had gathered around didn't even see what happened. They only saw a blur before their eyes, and the man who had been sitting opposite Locke had completely disappeared at the end of the street, leaving not a trace.

Unlike the students who were terrified by the physics-defying escape, Locke remained seated throughout, leisurely sipping the remaining coffee in his cup, as if the escape of the Ancestor of the Dead Apostles, which had put the entire Clock Tower on high alert, was nothing more than a trivial matter.

He looked up into the misty depths where Nero had disappeared, and chuckled to himself. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried a powerful penetrating quality, each word clearly reaching the ears of every student: "As expected of the progenitor of the Dead Apostles, you ran away quite decisively. I thought beings like you who deny human history would be more confident, after all, you have a natural advantage over us ordinary humans. But I never expected that the moment I had the thought of killing you, you wouldn't even hesitate for a moment before turning around and running away."

Dead Apostle? Ancestor?

The moment those two words hit their ears, the students felt as if their blood had frozen.

Having spent so long in the Clock Tower, they understood better than anyone the terror behind those two words. To them, it was just a legend, but now it had become reality.

One second they were full of malice, thinking of giving Locke a good lesson, but the next second they were pale, their blood ran cold, their legs trembled uncontrollably, and they could barely stand.

They couldn't believe that they had just been a few steps away from the founder of the Dead Apostles, and they couldn't believe that this first-generation magician, whom they usually mocked, could actually stand up to an existence of this caliber, and even force the other party to flee with just a single sentence.

Locke paid no attention to these terrified nobodys.

He casually placed the coffee cup on the table, slightly raised his fingertips, and a power quietly surged within him. It was not magic from any system of the Clock Tower, but a power that did not originally exist, interfering with the rules of reality with his will.

His fingertips slowly traced patterns in the air, leaving behind mysterious, pale blue symbols in the morning mist.

"It's a pity. The moment I saw you, you were marked with an indelible mark. No matter where you run to, you can't escape this blow."

He lowered his eyes to watch the runes slowly flow, his tone carrying a hint of nonchalant indifference.

The next second, the Hextech runes suspended in the air suddenly tightened, condensing into a cold substance, rapidly sorting and reorganizing, transforming into a perfectly sealed energy array.

The golden and blue light burst through the morning mist in an instant, the array exploded with a roar, and transformed into a pillar of light that pierced through the sky and the earth, shooting upwards and tearing apart the thick clouds over London.

At this moment, in the outskirts of London, Nero Chaos, who was disintegrating himself into countless chaotic black shadows and desperately fleeing, suddenly froze.

The rational deduction system that had supported him for hundreds of years suddenly went into overdrive, and the chill of death instantly permeated every inch of his being. He looked up abruptly and crashed into the overwhelming golden-blue light—that spear of light ignored space, ignored time, ignored all his means of evasion, and struck him with perfect precision.

In an instant, the absolute blow from the Lord of Humanity completely pierced the very foundation of his existence. The 666 Chaos Beasts that constituted the source of his life could not even withstand a moment in the holy light, and were all annihilated into nothingness.

This progenitor of the Dead Apostles, who stood at the pinnacle of the vampire race, along with all his Chaos Clusters, was completely annihilated by this attack, leaving not even a single fragment that could allow him to be reborn.

This strike, imbued with the dual will of purification and annihilation, instantly plunged the entire clock tower into an unprecedented tremor.

When Nero Chaos fled for his life, his undisguised presence as a Dead Apostle had already triggered the magical barrier covering the entire London area. This attack, which completely broke through the limits of conventional magic, directly pushed the barrier's alarm to its maximum threshold.

The law enforcement team from the Legal Affairs Department, responsible for patrolling the entire area, immediately located the core coordinates of the energy burst. The encrypted communication channel was instantly filled with urgent calls for reinforcements, and all personnel involved received the highest priority emergency dispatch order.

At the Clock Tower headquarters, the monarchs of the twelve academic disciplines almost simultaneously stopped what they were doing and looked in unison at the golden-blue energy trail that lingered in the sky above London.

The mark was completely outside the framework of all existing magic systems, carrying a near-magical level of pressure capable of interfering with the laws of the world, causing these big shots standing at the pinnacle of the entire magic world to show undisguised astonishment and disbelief on their faces.

At the top of the clock tower, just a kilometer from the scene of the incident, the monarch of the Clock Tower's First Department, the Inheritance Department, and the Dean of the Clock Tower who has ruled for two thousand years without change, Bricissan, stood side by side with his junior brother, the former Grandmaster of Magic, the Gem Ongishua Zelrich Schbein Augu, who wielded the Second Magic.

The two people's gazes first locked firmly on the direction where the energy trajectory dissipated, and then they both fell on the figure on the street who was still leisurely drinking coffee. This god-era magician who had lived for two thousand years and this magician who had traveled through countless parallel worlds both had unfathomable thoughts and explorations surging in their eyes.

Bricissan: "If I had known he had already completed the Sixth Law, I wouldn't have needed to hint at bringing those good-for-nothings over. I would have had to erase their memories myself."

Gemstone Elder: "Senior brother, he didn't complete the sixth method."

Bricissan: "Oh?"

Gemstone stroked his beard and began to analyze Locke's magic from the perspective of a second magician.

"No, it can't be said that he didn't complete the Sixth Law. The Sixth Law he used was already completed, but it hasn't been realized yet."

"You mean, he borrowed power from the future?"

"Not entirely. After all, based on what I learned during the Holy Grail War in another world, that's what the Chaos person who claimed to be from the Legion of a Thousand Sons said."

"He said that the evil god he served told him that tens of thousands of years ago, the emperor had already discovered the sixth law and would use it to distort reality and all truths, and that he had also given him a mantra."

"The initial one changed everything;"

Subsequent second-party consensus reached even more.

The three aspects that followed showcased the future;

The four of the connection concealed itself;

The final five have long lost their meaning:

The great Six negated the ending.

Just after he finished speaking this profound incantation, a blue trace suddenly flashed in the corner of Gemstone Elder's eye, like the trace of a string of feathers.

At that very moment, Locke, who was still drinking coffee, suddenly turned around and, to the astonishment of the two men, locked onto them across a thousand miles.

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