Fate/Zero S2E10: “the Sea at the End of the World”

That title suggests "Waver and/or Alexander get the thing they've been looking for," but considering that Iri just got possessed by the Nowhere King the "end of the world" part could have more sinister connotations. Also, there are only two episodes after this one, but there ARE still two episodes after this one, which is basically an hour's worth of screentime. So, a lot could happen. Let's see how groanworthy those events end up being.

...it honestly pains me, realizing how dismissive of this show I've become. I really did enjoy the first half of it. Hopefully there will still be some good bits in this final stretch.


Open on a sleep-deprived Kiritsugu stumbling his way up to the city park, where Kirei is waiting atop his elevated perch. A slow, quiet drumbeat that's honestly one of the best musical pieces of the series so far plays; really sounds like the leadup to a final battle. Meanwhile, Alexander and Waver approach on horseback from the other direction (interestingly, the horse is no longer flying. Maybe they decided an aerial approach would be too visible) and Arturia arrives by motorcycle.

Arturia senses that her target is inside of a nearby parking complex, and takes her motorbike in, where she's ambushed by the Berserker who dismounts her in a surprise attack. Meanwhile, Waver and Alexander are interdicted by Gilgamesh before they can reach the park; looks like the low-visibility approach was only partially effective.

Roll OP. Afterward, Waver watches in confusion from horseback as Alexander dismounts and approaches Gilgamesh so the two of them can share a drink before fighting. Heh, okay then. I guess it makes sense, given that Alex and Snek have built some degree of camaraderie over shit-talking Arturia in their previous meetings. That's a basis for friendship of a kind. I guess.

Speaking of which, Snek asks Alexander what happened to that chariot of his, and Alex replies that he's "embarassed to say" that he lost it to Arturia.

Granted, he might have phrased it that way no matter who he lost it too, the shame being in the defeat itself rather than who he was defeated by. In context of their earlier conversations though, it definitely feels like Alexander considers being beaten by Arturia to be extra humiliating. Which, well, I don't think anything more needs to be said about this.

Gilgamesh, at least, pleasantly surprises me by NOT using this as an excuse to launch off on another speech about how much Arturia sucks and should be in his palace bedchamber getting raped and so forth. Rather, he just expresses disappointment that he won't be able to fight Alexander at full strength like he'd been hoping to. Alexander responds to this with a very Yisunian sentiment:

Gilgamesh is amused by the audacity, but doesn't think Alexander has any chance against him. Granted, he never thinks that anyone ever has a chance against him, so whatever lol. Alexander then mentions to him that with his own army-summoning ability and Gilgamesh's arsenal that includes actual spaceships for some reason, the two of them could conquer not only this world but many others as well if they joined forces.

Eh. It was worth a try, Alexander, but no dice.

Alexander laughs off Gilgamesh's laughing off of him gracefully, to his credit. Gilgamesh also monologues a bit about how he'll never have need for another companion after the one that he has had, which...hmm. The tense he uses makes it ambiguous if he's talking about a current companion, or a past one. If the former he's obviously talking about Kirei, but if the latter it's probably a reference to Enkidu.

I hope it's the former. Because if he's earnestly referring to memories of Enkidu, then that means that this actually is a (very, very weird) interpretation of Gilgamesh rather than a brilliantly subversive interpretation of the Serpent. Which would mean all those earlier hints were actually just red herrings, and also just be really lame.

Well, with the possibility of diplomatic resolutions gone, the two share a quick toast and then toss their cups (which Gilgamesh blinks away with). Alexander returns to his horse. Waver asks him if he's actually friends with Gilgamesh, and Alexander explains that it doesn't matter; Gilgamesh is very likely to be the last person he ever sees, and he'd rather the last face he sees in his unlife be at least a slightly friendly one. That would be a much more touching sentiment if Alexander wasn't also doing everything he can in both this life and his previous one to GET himself killed in battle, but it's still a humanizing detail. Gilgamesh phases back into existence in front of them, and is polite enough to let Alexander conjure his reality bubble, summon his army, and give them a rousing speech before attacking.

Well, Gilgamesh does want to prove he can trounce Alexander even with the latter having all his toys at his disposal. So, it makes sense that he'd give him time to get them all out and set up. Alexander and his ghost army charge forward, with Waver doing his best attempt at a battle cry along with the others'. Gilgamesh prepares his own attack. Then, we cut back to the parking garage where Arturia faces the Berserker.

It looks like he destroyed Arturia's motorcycle using a minigun.

I guess they must have scavenged that from one of the fighter planes. Or, barring that, Kirei gave Gilgamesh this long, annoying speech about how there must be a 12 year old boy somewhere who would think a minigun was a great treasure and that logically Gilgamesh must have one in his treasury, and just kept getting more and more pedantic about it until finally Gilgamesh gave up and agreed just to make him shut up.

Anyway, the Berserker is blasting everything, and Arturia is jumping around him trying to get an opening. It's basically the Vulcan Raven fight from MGS1, just with more anime. Then we cut to the Berserker's master, writhing against a wall and babbling to himself somewhere nearby.

I'm guessing Kirei and Gilgamesh just sort of dragged him into the area and took it for granted that his Berserker would attack Arturia unprompted as soon as she came within range.

A woman approaches him in the darkness, and at first I thought that it was the Nowhere King piloting Iri, but nope, just Daisy hallucinating about Sakura and her mother. He just seems to be torturing himself imagining having to explain what happened to Sakura, and then screaming in anguish about it, which, well...

Yeah.

Back to the parking garage, which is full of dramatic red lighting for some reason. Fires do start burning from exploding gas tanks, but the red light seems to have spread far in advance of that, so...just excessive amounts of anime building up in the air and releasing blackbody radiation, I guess. It looks like a pretty cool fight, especially the part where Arturia charges the berserker while using a car as a body shield, but unfortunately the quick-cuts and shakycam style make a lot of it hard to follow. The long and short of it, though, is that Arturia is too agile and too good at defensive combat to ever take a hit, while the Berserker's armor is too tough to be penetrated by anything she hits him with. He also seems able to see her sword even when it's invisible...only at some point she somehow realizes that he can't actually see it, he just knows its length. How she can tell this is totally beyond me, but somehow she can tell it. So, figuring that the Berserker must know her from their previous lives, she uses a break in the action to tell him to identify himself. She can tell he's a knight; it would be dishonourable of him not to name himself, when she's already done so.

For the first time in the entire series, the Berserker actually shows signs of understanding what anyone besides his Master is saying. Slowly, with very excessive growling and constipated noises, he deactivates his shimmering black forcefield and then pries off his helmet, revealing a deformed man with rolling eyes, sharp teeth, and a bulged brow. Arturia reacts in shock and horror at seeing such a hideously mutated version of her greatest knight.

Well, like I said. It hard to be either him or Mordred. I was thinking more likely Mordred when I saw the fangs, figuring it was a nod to his partly inhuman heritage, but nope. Lancelot's manifestation is just all fucked up because of the modified version of the Servant summoning ritual that the Matous used. This likely also has been causing him to overact on negative memories from his old self, explaining why his old grudge against Arturia has become a murderous rage.

...did Lancelot ever have improvised weapons as part of his legend? If any of the Knights of the Round Table were to have that as a Noble Phantasm, I'd think Percival. This could just be my ignorance talking, of course; I'm sure someone will enlighten me if so.

Arturia stares in dumbfounded horror for a few moments (she's good at that). Then, she acts an incredibly stupid question (she's good at that too). This one is REALLY headdesk-worthy, though.

"How could you have fallen so low as to become Berserker?"

Well gee Arturia, I don't know. How COULD he have become Berserker? You don't think that maybe somebody summoned him into that role, do you?

Maybe she's commenting about how he's crazier than berserkers are supposed to be, due to Darth Matou's custom addition to the incantation. If so, this is just an embarrassing localization fail. But frankly, making Arturia this stupid isn't unprecedented for the show at this point. Remember her expressing disbelief that Alexander the Great could have possibly attacked his enemies during wartime?

...actually, wait, hold up a second.

That very same detail reminds me. At this point, Arturia and Kiritsugu know that the Berserker can disguise himself. Why is she so quick to believe that this actually IS Lancelot, rather than the Berserker just using a psychological warfare trick?

Well, I guess I already answered that. She's stupid.

Then she remembers Alexander's incoherent takedown of her from the banquet scene, and comes to the conclusion that she caused Lancelot to turn into a toothy rage monster by being too idealistic and selfless and failing to properly inspire her underlings. Because she's stupid.

Cut back to Gilgamesh vs. Team Rider in the reality marble. Alexander's army charges. Gilgamesh conjures his super sword, Ea, and uses "Enuma Elish." Which apparently unmakes whatever planet he's currently on. In this case, fortunately, just Alexander's pocket dimension.

Ea is a Mesopotamian god of water, masculinity, and invention who has some very minor appearances in the Epic of Gilgamesh. He has no particular ties to Gilgamesh beyond that, and he isn't especially associated with swords as far as I can tell beyond the general masculine = soldierly and sword = phallic symbol associations.

The Enuma Elish is the Babylonian creation myth. It has nothing to do with Gilgamesh, aside from being from the same part of the world.

And no, even if Gilgamesh actually is the Snake after all, this wouldn't help. The serpent that stole eternal life has jack and shit to do with either of these stories either.

Now, sure, if Gilgamesh can steal things from fucking India using his treasury, then anything is fair game. This feels different, though. Different, and worse.

...

Interpreting King Arthur's blindingly bright sword as a kilowatt laser cannon is as stupid as all hell, but it's the kind of stupidity that you can kind of smile at. Like, it knows what it's doing. It's taking the premise to absolutely absurd conclusions, but it's at least coming FROM that premise.

This, on the other hand, feels like Nasu just grabbed some random Mesopotamian mythology words from Wikipedia and gave them to random things without knowing or caring what they actually meant. And...there's a kind of self-seriousness to how it manifests that doesn't have quite the fun whackiness of some of the other stuff I've snarked about. And these things are being treated as a core part of Gilgamesh's powerset in a way that the other purloined artifacts weren't; the story itself seems to think that Gilgamesh is "supposed" to have this in particular.

And yeah, I'm saying Nasu, not Urobuchi. This is pretty obviously part of Gilgamesh's moveset from the original Fate. And, frankly, things like this make me less and less eager to see more of that work.

Why write a story about summoning ancient mythical figures at all if you're going to treat the source material this thoughtlessly? Seriously. Why? Why choose to write that story if you don't actually want to write that story?

At this point, I'd be extremely surprised if Nasu ever read the Epic of Gilgamesh, or any other Mesopotamian legend for that matter. Which makes me sceptical of the work he'll have done on other Servants as well. Which destroys the one goddamned thing that's supposed to be the Fate franchise's main draw (at least until Grand Order came out; apparently the main draw is pedophilia now, or so I've heard).

...

Anyway, Gilgamesh soliloquys about how the army is just a dream, and he's going to force the dreamer to wake up. There's a big animation bonanza of the reality marble being destroyed that I'm clearly expected to jerk off to. Then they're back on the bridge where Gilgamesh first confronted Team Rider.

Alexander asks Waver if he's willing to become his retainer now, since he's no longer his master. Waver tearfully promises that he does; Alexander is his king, and he's swearing loyalty to him. This is treated as a big emotional breakthrough and some kind of capstone to Waver's character development.

Remember, this is just a scene after we're reminded of Alexander's vision of kingship being about having such a charismatically megalomaniacal goal that your underlings can't help but be swept up in it and serve your whims.

-____-

Anyway, Waver tearfully asks his king what he wills of him. Alexander tells him to escape, survive, and tell the world of his doings in the Grail War. He's unlikely to beat Gilgamesh, but if he does then it won't be Waver who made the difference.

I guess this is supposed to point back to the bookstore scene, where Alexander tells Waver that he should only trust primary sources when it comes to history.

Because the history book that Waver was reading didn't have any primary sources cited or quoted in it, amirite?

Alexander the Great was a member of a literate society, who conquered several other literate (some of them highly literate) societies, and who liked attention. He's likely one of the most thoroughly documented people in classical history. Any history book about him is going to include firsthand accounts. Probably a lot of firsthand accounts.

I didn't make a big deal of this aspect of the scene at the time, but now I kind of have to. In retrospect, the purpose of that scene was to foreshadow and highlight the importance of the mission Alexander is giving Waver now. It falls flat, because there is literally no difference between the two things the story is trying to contrast.

Waver gets off the horse, despite wanting to stay and fight by Alexander's side to the last. Alexander charges Gilgamesh. Gilgamesh shoots his treasure railgun at Alexander, killing his horse and forcing him to leap off of it and close the rest of the distance on foot. Alexander manages to get close, but Gilgamesh manages to hint him with some harpoons from behind where he can't see and dodge them, catching him in place.

Then he stabs him with his Ea sword.

Alexander is a good sport about dying again, in keeping with his "gracious in victory and in defeat" vibe. Gilgamesh asks him if he's finally woken up from his dream of conquering the unconquerable. Alexander says that he supposes so, but that it was a good dream, one worth having had. Gilgamesh, expressing some rare magnanimity of his own, tells Alexander that he's welcome to try again as many times as someone summons him back; he considers the world to be his own, and he intends to make sure that it will never be a boring garden to entertain guests like Alexander in.

Okay, fair's fair: I really like this exchange. As evil as Sneky Boi is, Alexander was right to be as friendly to him as enemies going into battle to the death can get away with being. Insofar as Gilgamesh can respect anyone, he's been made to respect Alexander. And, because of this, Alexander was able to die his second death while looking into a friendly smile and hearing words of comfort, rather than a cold sneer and words of contempt.

Alexander's final moment before dissipating is him having a moment of self awareness, where he realizes that the sound of the Pacific ocean calling to him in his dreams was always just the beating of his own heart. Conquering the world was never actually what he wanted. He just wanted challenge.

Granted, he already DID seem to be pretty self-aware about this, at least in some earlier scenes. He didn't say it in as many words, but he pretty strongly implied it. I guess maybe he never realized what he was getting at, even though everyone around him probably did, until this moment. But still, it doesn't seem like anyone actually learned or expressed anything that they - and we - didn't already know.

The dramatic, emotional music and the focus on what Waver's getting out of this also confuses me, because I really don't know what Waver IS supposedly getting out of this. The scene is directed like it's making some kind of big philosophical statement, but I don't know that it actually is. "The journey is more important than the destination," I guess? Maybe? This particular instance of it is really specific to Alexander himself, though, to the point where it feels more like just a character study than anything broader.

The framing of Gilgamesh as God addressing a representation of humanity isn't subtle either, and I'm not sure if it works any better.

This scene is good. It's a fine sendoff for Alexander that captures all the most likeable and watchable aspects of his character. It's just that it seems to think that it's doing things it isn't. Proud of itself for the wrong reasons.

After Alexander returns to the afterlife, Gilgamesh approaches Waver and asks him if he's going to attack him. Waver, tears still in his eyes, tells him that there'd be little point in that; they both know who would win. When Gilgamesh asks him if it's really right that he should outlive Alexander, Waver tells him that Alexander's final wish - his final order, in fact - was for Waver to survive him and tell his last story to the world. Gilgamesh says that that's fair enough, and it's not like he himself has anything to gain from killing Waver at this point. With that, he teleports away.

I wonder if Alexander may have saved Waver's life here, by making sure to go out on good terms with his opponent. I think Gilgamesh would *probably* have erred on the side of "you aren't even worth killing" regardless, but Waver being the appointed chronicler of someone who Gilgamesh kinda sorta likes is a secondary factor that increased Waver's odds of being spared.

After Gilgamesh is gone, Waver collapses onto the pavement and cries.

Just then, a van comes shooting across the bridge. It honks, but in his prone position Waver isn't able to get out of the way in time. He's crushed beneath its wheels.

That doesn't actually happen, but come on, Waver, dude, you're in the middle of the fucking street. On a bridge. In a major city. I'm not sure what muggles can and can't see, exactly, but I don't think Waver had any way of knowing for a fact that this place would be clear.

Anyway. Waver doesn't get hit by a car, and we cut back to the park where Kirei is preparing to face Kiritsugu. Who he is obsessed with, for reasons. As a slow montage shows Daisy screaming and banging his head against the wall, Arturia and Lancelot fighting, and Iri laying (to all appearances) dead in the middle of a ritual glyph, Kirei recites an altered version of Psalms 23. My cup is overflowing, the lord is my shepherd, you know the one. Gilgamesh's framing in the previous scene sort of implies that the "god" he refers to here is Gilgamesh, but it could also be getting at something else. Maybe it's just an old habit from his Executor days, if they have a tradition of reciting this before going into battle. Or, maybe it has something to do with the Nowhere King who he's summoning into Iri's body.

Anyway, all the edgy shit around him is his idea of luxury and providence. The monologue ends with him and Kiritsugu coming face to face. End episode.


This episode just confuses me. I don't know how it expects me to feel about most of the things that happen in it, or why. I don't know what Waver's final scene with Alexander is supposed to mean for him, in light of all the contradictory messages leading up to it. I feel like everything I like about it might be unintentional, and everything I dislike about it might be the intended appeal.

Two episodes left.