Chapter 47: The Clock Winds Back
The darkness peeled away slowly.
Riya's eyes blinked open to a dim, broken world.
The air was stale with the scent of dried blood and dust.
All around him, the room was in ruins—its stone walls cracked, the floor littered with fragments of shattered furniture, and long-dried bloodstains smeared across the ground like smeared ink on parchment.
Richard and Robin stood nearby, both silent as they took in their surroundings.
Richard had his hand on his sword, eyes scanning the corners.
Robin crouched beside a broken pillar, one hand brushing the edge of a particularly large blood pool, his brow furrowed.
"What happened here?" Robin muttered, voice barely above a whisper.
Riya stepped forward, drawn by the silent echo of violence that still hung in the air.
His fingers traced the deep gash along the floor, where a sword had once torn through the stone.
He knelt, hand hovering just above a blackened scorch mark.
And then—
A monstrous screech shattered the stillness.
It echoed like metal scraping against bone, primal and sharp, and came from the far end of the room.
From the shadows, something stirred.
It emerged slowly.
Large.
Wrong.
A monster swayed into the light, its grotesque form a patchwork of innocent things twisted into nightmare fuel.
A white blanket draped over its hulking frame like a child's security cloth turned funeral shroud.
Around its arms dangled string-tied puffs—fluffy and colorful, like toy balls meant for a mobile above a cradle.
But they twitched unnaturally, and the sounds they made were wet.
Its face—or where a face should have been—was obscured by what resembled a mop.
But through the strands, something peeked.
A child's doll eyes, one cracked, the other spinning like a top.
Its smile was stitched too wide.
Its hands were not hands at all, but jagged blades, glinting with dried gore.
Floating around it were dozens of scissors, spinning lazily like leaves in the wind.
Robin was first to react. "That thing's not just twisted."
"It's a Servant."
Riya's voice was cold and calm. "Richard. Robin. Take it down."
The monster let out a garbled screech and turned to flee.
But Robin was already moving, arrows notched and loosed in rapid fire.
One embedded in its leg.
Another pinned a floating scissor mid-spin.
The creature stumbled, lurching sideways.
Richard surged forward, blade flashing.
The battle was brutal but brief.
Robin kept it rooted with expertly aimed arrows, pinning its limbs and cutting off escape paths.
Richard moved like a vengeful shadow, slicing through the distorted beast with precision.
With one final leap, his sword carved a deep arc—and cleaved through the creature's neck.
A shrill, gurgled wail escaped the monster—
And then, everything broke.
Riya blinked.
The blood, the ruins, the monster—they were gone.
Instead, a cool breeze touched his skin.
He stood on a grassy hill, the same one where the capsule had left them.
All around him, the others stood too—equally confused.
Rin.
Cú.
Fergus.
Leonidas.
Richard.
Robin.
Everyone was here.
But none of them had arrived together.
Fergus and Leonidas had stayed behind at the doors of the castle.
Rin and Cú had just killed Amari.
Richard, Robin, and Riya had fought the monster alone.
So how—?
Rin's gaze drifted upward.
And froze.
The clocks.
Her lips parted as her voice dropped. "It's… the exact moment we entered the third floor."
Shock passed through them like a wave.
They had gone back in time.
Riya's eyes widened as he remembered—the moment the monster's neck was severed, something had rippled.
He turned to Rin. "That thing I just fought—it wasn't a regular Servant."
"It reset everything."
"Some kind of Noble Phantasm."
Rin's expression darkened. "There's only one Servant I've heard of that could do that."
"Nursery Rhyme."
Robin stepped forward. "The embodiment of children's tales… born of imagination."
Riya exhaled slowly. "That means…"
Rin nodded, face pale. "Alice."
They retraced their steps, now aware of the loop.
The goal wasn't to fight again—but to find Alice, the true Master of Nursery Rhyme, and kill her to end the cycle.
But instead of Alice, they met her Servant—Nursery Rhyme.
She didn't appear as a monster this time.
No, what stepped from the shadows was the image of a child.
A small girl, perhaps no older than seven, dressed in an old-fashioned black dress that belonged to some dusty Victorian storybook.
Her sleeves were too long, her boots too clean, her hair tied into neat, fraying ribbons.
And her smile—too wide, too knowing.
Like someone who had read the ending of the book before anyone else had started.
She stood atop a giant stuffed rabbit, oversized and stitched with eyes that followed the group wherever they moved.
Around her floated glowing storybook pages, some blank, others filled with moving illustrations that shifted whenever one tried to look too closely.
Her voice was melodic, sweet and eerie at once. "Oh? You're back already. That's quick."
"But that's how stories work, don't they?"
"You turn the page, and you're right back at the start."
Richard took a step forward, sword in hand.
"We've fought you already."
"We killed you already."
The girl nodded slowly, that too-wide smile never wavering.
"You did. You really, truly did. And then I wound the clock back."
She waved her hand.
One of the floating pages fluttered open, showing an ink-drawn scene of Riya and his allies standing in the destroyed chamber, bathed in blood and fire.
Then the image blurred—reversed—like time playing backward.
The ink unspooled.
The death was undone.
Rin's face tightened. "Why? What's the point of looping us like this?"
Nursery Rhyme turned her head, slowly, as though surprised anyone had to ask.
"Because she's gone," the girl said.
Her voice cracked just slightly. "Because my Master, my Alice… died a long time ago."
"Her body is cold. But in this dream, I can keep her alive. I can keep her happy. She doesn't have to know she's alone."
Riya's breath caught in his throat.
Nursery Rhyme clapped her hands once, and a wave of images burst across the storybooks.
Alice, smiling.
Alice, dancing through fields of flowers.
Alice, sipping tea with imagined friends.
Dozens of fragments of a happy life—fabricated and fragile.
None of them real.
"This Wonderland… it's her paradise," Nursery Rhyme whispered.
"She deserved a happy ending. And I was born to give her one."
Rin stepped forward, eyes hard. "You're not saving her. You're trapping her."
"She can't move on."
"She doesn't have to," the girl replied, with a sudden edge in her voice.
"She doesn't want to. She's tired. So tired."
"This dream… it's all that's left."
"If you wake her up, she dies for real."
Robin lowered his bow slightly. His voice was quiet. "And if we don't?"
Nursery Rhyme tilted her head. "Then the day loops again. And again. And again. We can do this forever. Don't you see? It doesn't have to end."
Riya stared at her.
He didn't see an enemy anymore.
He saw a ghost of love.
A being clinging to its Master with everything it had left, even if it meant dragging others into the dream.
Even if it meant turning nightmare into sanctuary.
He understood now.
Nursery Rhyme wasn't a villain.
She was just a story refusing to close.
And then the next day repeated.
They knew what had to be done.
Rin, alongside Cú and Fergus, returned to the castle—to face and kill Amari again.
Riya, with Richard, Leonidas, and Robin, followed the same trail, this time with purpose.
To find Alice.
And they did.
Alice waited for them, frail and pale.
Her eyes were warm, her smile soft.
She knew her time had come.
She refused to fight.
She surrendered.
"I'm tired," she said softly. "And I don't want to hurt you."
"You are… my friend."
She used her final Command Seal to erase Nursery Rhyme.
She turned to Riya. "My body is at the top of the castle."
She looked up at him, eyes gentle. "Will you play with me... one last time?"
"One last game."
"Just one."
Riya nodded. "Yeah. Just one last time."
They played.
A simple game of pretend.
Like kids in a park.
And then she led him to a quiet room.
A bed.
Medical equipment long abandoned.
Her real body lay there, wrapped in bandages soaked with blood.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "And thank you."
"Sleep well, Alice," Riya whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead, "your story mattered."
Riya's hand trembled—but he did what had to be done.
The moment Alice passed…
The capsule opened.
The group stood at the start again.
But this time, the clocks had not reset.
They had done it.
The third floor was complete.
Riya reached out.
Rin took his hand, pretending not to care—but didn't let go.
Riya smirked as they stepped into the capsule.
"Careful, Rin—keep holding my hand like that and I might think you want me stuck inside you again."
Rin's cheeks flushed a deep red as she yanked her hand away—only to grab it again a second later.
"B-Baka…! Don't say that with a straight face…"
Together, they stepped into the capsule.
Another floor awaited.
Another challenge.