The Island of Falling Stars
Chaldea's surveillance satellites detected an impossible paradise: a Tropical Singularity drifting between dream and reality. This "Island of Falling Stars" lay under a noon sky where silver stars cascaded like snow, and warm emerald waves hummed ancient lullabies to the shore. After stabilizing the Lostbelt remnants, Chaldea HQ activated its long-dormant vacation protocol – a summons to let its weary Servants unwind. Though summoned as a mission, it felt more like a summons to a retreat in paradise. And oh, what a delightful mission it would be.
The moment the portal opened, a cacophony of color and chaos burst forth. Tamamo-no-Mae bounded out of the Chaldea Gate in a bright pink kimono-yukata swimsuit, fox ears twitching with excitement. "Mii–kon! We've arrived!" she chirped, her tails wagging behind her. Nero Claudius strode out next, radiant in a red and white festivity bikini and waving an oversized parasol. "At last, comrades! The sweet warmth of the sun and the liberating freedom of a beach party!" she declared with a gleaming smile. Behind them, Scáthach emerged in a sleek dark-blue warrior swimsuit with crimson ribbons, sword slung casually at her side, eyes sharp yet amused. Ishtar sauntered in on her heels – casual and luminous, in a golden goddess-themed bikini that made her hair glow like molten gold. "Ishtar looks fabulous!" shouted Mash Kyrielight from the teleport point, adjusting her own shielder-style swimsuit armor. Mash wore a light pink and white suit, armored in all the right places but cut low and cute. She blushed at all the attention from the surrounding heroes and servants.
A few male Servants had been sent to balance the mix. Achilles, in a sky-blue sporty swim trunk, bounded out barefoot with a grin and a coconut drink in hand, flexing his legendary calves. "Beach games, gladiatorial contests, and lots of sun! I'm all in!" he announced. Gilgamesh stepped out from the shade of Chaldea's projection in gleaming royal-red swimwear, one hand shading his eyes while he surveyed the scene. His face sported a slightly disbelieving grin as the tropical sunlight struck him. Okita Souji (Alter), with a red chrysanthemum in her hair, trailed behind in a stylish navy yukata-swimsuit hybrid, kicking up sand with each step. Even Oda Nobunaga had arrived, in a jellyfish-themed light blue ensemble that somehow clashed with her fierce personality; she just shrugged and applied more sunscreen on her blackened shoulders.
Between the swirling skirts, bikini strings, and bare chests, Chaldea's summer party sprawled across the golden beach. As soon as everyone set foot on the soft sand, the ocean water began to sing in a low, melodic hum. The beach itself seemed to sigh in relief; even the sun hovered high at noon but the sky was splashed with auburn and indigo, as if time itself had mixed day with dusk. The servants let out delighted laughs and cheers, some flinging themselves into the waves immediately. Tamamo performed a little dance with arms flung high, chanting playful fox-spirit gibberish as water misted the air around her. Nero raised her parasol and exclaimed, "Truly, this is paradise! Let us make this the greatest summer party Chaldea has ever seen!" Mash giggled, sharing a glance with the Master, who shook his head with an affectionate smile. Yes, yes, paradise indeed. The Master was relieved for the respite, but also vigilant – this was a Singularity, after all. Their mission was not just fun, but also to investigate and stabilize this strange cosmic island.
On the periphery, Achilles and Gilgamesh engaged in an impromptu race along the shore. Achilles took off with a confident "Atta boy, cow!" (his nickname for the Master), and Gilgamesh could not resist chasing after, clad in nothing but regal trunks. Their sprint was more gallivanting than professional, with Achilles zigzagging around Tamamo's spiral jump while she giggled and Dodged him like a playful kitsune. Oda Nobunaga and Okita sparred playfully with a beach ball, tossing it like spear practice between them. Ishtar lounged on a towel, adjusting her shades and sipping a fluorescent tropical drink that the Master had magically conjured via his command spells – note to self, always keep Tendis (command spell LED orange device) well-thumbed for emergencies.
Meanwhile, in the shimmering distance at the heart of the island, a titanic tree of glowing azure leaves twisted up into the fractured sky. Beneath its vast canopy lay a figure wrapped in celestial silks: Lián Wújiàn, the Boundless Crown of All Paths, lay in slumber. Even from afar, his presence was undeniable. A halo of stardust wreathed his form, and the air above him seemed pregnant with magic. When he exhaled, the entire island shivered with soft music – it sounded like a lullaby sung by galaxies. The world around his prone form glowed faintly, as if reality had softened its edges in reverence. This was the unknown sovereign whose dreams animated the island.
General chatter died down as Da Vinci (AI)'s projection gently came on over the sandy shore. She adjusted her pastel beach sunhat (her AI image, of course), and in a warm voice said, "The core of the Singularity is within that tree. That sleeping… well, god, I guess? Possibly keeps time fractured. Gentlemen and ladies, our duty is to rouse him. But try to be subtle: we have a delicate cosmic being here. And, oh, enjoy yourselves too. After all… 'vacation protocol,' remember?"
All eyes turned to the turquoise tree and the figure beneath. Everyone realized: we were not here to fight, but to play. A ripple of excited giggles and whispers swept through the group. This would be a very different kind of mission.
Chapter 2: Awakening the Dreamer
The Servants exchanged curious glances. Tamamo swished her tails thoughtfully. "Mii-kon," she murmured, "looks like we have a very special task. But first, miko-n fun time!" With a grin, she beckoned everyone closer to the tree – though not too close; Lián's aura was heavy, like the calm before a storm. Jeanne d'Arc (Summer) approached quietly with her parasol closed, the golden blade cloth at her back glinting. She wore a simple white swimsuit with Marian motifs. "We should be careful. He may be sleeping deeply," she said softly, laying a hand on the trunk of the glowing tree to feel its gentle hum. Around them, reality wavered; the sand underfoot was partially translucent as if the island itself were fading in and out of existence.
Oda Nobunaga scoffed, glancing at the sleeping god. "Wakey-wakey, grandpa?" she teased loudly, only half-serious. She then propped herself against the tree's massive trunk, arching a perfect eyebrow. "He must be some sort of dreamy king. Must be lonely." Scáthach crossed her arms, still edgy and distant. "No time for games of riddles. We need to get information. This Singularity only exists because he's asleep, possibly dreaming." Mash pouted at that – scowling at Scáthach was practically impossible. "Scáthach-san, I think Da Vinci said we can relax. The starry showers are pretty, aren't they? It's not like we have an enemy to fight right now."
Tamamo clapped her hands. "Then it's settled! We will wake him up!" Her ears perked and tails snapped. "But how does one politely wake a napping god?" Achilles snorted. "I bet he's got his little cosmic pillow and everything. Maybe I poke him with a spear?" He lifted a long-staff parasol from the sand like a javelin. Gilgamesh raised a gloved hand, face glinting with interest. "We should wake him with something worthy. Perhaps with music or entertainment to pique his divine curiosity." Ishtar giggled, flipping a strand of hair. "If this idol goddess Ishtar can make peoples' hearts beat, maybe she can awaken this celestial big brother with a performance!" She tossed the Master a golden lyre that had materialized by Lián's will – indeed, the world was now bending tools of summer fun to them. (The Master stashed it.)
It was decided: to entertain and wake the great Lián, they would put on a summer showcase. Like a performance in ancient times, only this time on a gigantic open-air stage of cosmic sand.
Tamamo was first. She launched into a playful, energetic kitsune dance at the water's edge. Her silk sleeves fluttered, tails dancing. The waves responded: each splash formed silhouettes of mythical foxes that danced along with her, performing perfect mirrors of her moves. She sang in her melodic, playful voice, a nonsense tune that told of spring fields and starry nights. Achilles, seeing this, gave a small salute and declared: "A fine opening performance! Now for the Spartan honor guard!" He sprinted across the beach, tossing a javelin (actually a volleyball) high into the sky toward the sleeping god's domain. The volleyball arced in slow motion, the entire beach watching it fly as if time slowed; two seagulls perched on Gilgamesh's haloed hair glared at it threateningly, but it landed squarely on the god's still-breathing arm. The volleyball tickled Lián's fingertip, but he didn't stir. The Servants pretended that was a score, albeit an eerie quiet one.
"Next!" called Nero, puffing her chest. She arranged the beach umbrellas into a makeshift stage backdrop carved from driftwood. On cue, she belted out a theatrical aria about heroes basking by the sea. The golden sunlight shimmered around her voice, as the nearby ocean hummed in harmony. She arched her back dramatically at the finale: an extra note soared from her lips, forming a constellation of tiny stars that dropped like glitter onto Lián's robe. A few Servants shielded their eyes from the glint. Ishtar clapped appreciatively. "Magnificent, Emperor Nero, truly! He must be enthralled."
Nero blushed happily, eyes sparkling. As if on cue, a small, colorful parrot – bright turquoise and orange – swooped down from the heavens and landed on Nero's parasol. It tilted its head as if in approval. Jeanne, standing nearby, smiled kindly and offered the parrot a tidbit of leftover bread. The parrot sniffed it, then scampered toward Lián, making a chirping noise. "He's got all the creatures enchanted," whispered Mash to the Master. Every footstep sounded like applause, and the waves swelled and whispered their applause in gentle roars.
Scáthach, watching the performances, raised an eyebrow. Entertainment was not her usual approach, but this situation seemed special. With quiet grace, she stepped forward, summoning a spectral spear of pure moonlight in her hand. In a show of honor, she threw the spear in a long, powerful arc over the crowd. It spun in the sky, tipped with cosmic radiance. At its apex, the spear paused in mid-air as if time had frozen, and then it disintegrated gently into silver flowers that fluttered down like petals onto Lián's shoulder. "That will surely catch his attention," Scáthach remarked. It certainly was an awe-inspiring sight: an enchanted spear blossom.
Oda grunted in satisfaction. "Spears might do. But what about, say, Oda-style nudges?" She picked up a messy sandcastle someone had half-built. It looked more like a pile of driftwood, but she shoved it toward Lián's foot. The castle collapsed into the sand with a tiny pitter-patter applause sound effect – the island made sure they had effects. Then Oda hopped up and did a little impromptu belly-dance, flaxen hair whipping about. Achilles blinked twice and exclaimed, "Now I have seen everything."
Even the shy ones joined in. Mash, blushingly, approached Lián on tiptoe, offering a single glittering seashell she had picked up. "Please awake, sir, and grant us… your guidance?" she said softly, half-timid, half-hoping. At that moment, a gentle chorus of harmonized whales sang far off in the ocean – whales' singing, sweet as lullabies. Lián's eyelids fluttered slightly, but still, he did not fully wake. The whale song somehow faded away, replaced by a distant carnival melody.
Gilgamesh lounged on his elbow, surveying the efforts. "All charming," he muttered, but his voice held a smile. Then, standing up, he clapped his hands slowly. "And now, let us do something truly noteworthy." From thin air, gilded chariots and spoked wheels appeared, with Gilgamesh somehow riding in one. Behind him marched phantom guardians of Babylon, shield and spear at the ready, made of rainbows and stardust. Gilgamesh shouted in booming, melodramatic tones, "Hear ye the command of your king, o dreamer!" and then propelled the chariot forward. The phantom chariot glided in circles in front of Lián, scattering glittering confetti into the air. At the final moment, Gilgamesh paused, one hand on his heart and the other held high. "Lián… awake and greet your Masters of Chaldea!!"
The air crackled like before a lightning storm. For a heartbeat, everyone held still – even Oda's mouth hung open. The ocean stilled, the birds hushed, the multicolored confetti froze mid-fall. Then Lián Wújiàn's eyes snapped open.
Chapter 3: Sovereign of Dreams
It happened all at once. One second, the island was a stage of games and music. The next, a thunderous silence. **Stars **exploded into brilliance around Lián as his eyes (one sapphire, one golden topaz) opened slowly. The very air hummed like an awakened harp string, and reality shimmered back into focus. In the next instant, radiant columns of light shot upward from his form, impaling the sky (which rained more stars in response) while rainbow ripples descended into the sand.
Everyone ducked or covered their eyes against a wave of brilliance. When the light finally subsided, Lián Wújiàn was sitting upright beneath the cosmic tree. He towered over a man, robed in shifting fabrics woven from twilight. His hair was a cascade of midnight blue, threaded with glowing filaments like distant galaxies. Around his head floated a silver circlet – the Crown of All Paths – inscribed with living runes. Even in repose, his beauty was otherworldly: strong, ethereal, dreadfully handsome in a way that stole breath.
Time around him seemed to lag. The ocean's song turned into a gentle hymn. Even the midday sky looked hushed and reverent; one lone star winked above him despite the sun. Lián's eyes, now open fully, surveyed the gathered Servants with curiosity and calm authority. A slight, benevolent smile curved his lips as he took in their myriad costumes, poses, and the half-mile stadium of beach umbrellas, sandcastles, and cosmic debris that accompanied them.
Tamamo was the first to recover. She hopped forward, eyes shining. "Lian–san! You're awake!" she cried with genuine relief, floating a little in the air. She poked his arm gleefully. "Your snooze fest is over! Did you have a nice nap?" A chorus of nervous, excited greetings spilled out from the assembled Servants – laughter, cheers, and some jumbled bowing. They realized Lián meant no harm; he was conscious and calm.
Lián's voice, though soft, rolled like distant thunder warmed by sunlight. "Greetings, my guests of light," he said, gently. As he spoke, petals of cosmic energy drifted from his shoulders, falling softly in the air. Every eye was on him. Even Gilgamesh had stopped smirking and now stood respectfully at attention. "I am Lián Wújiàn," he continued, voice resonant, "the Boundless Crown of All Paths. You have awakened me from my cosmic dream."
Jeanne stepped forward, tentatively curtsying. "My liege, we come from Chaldea to relieve your slumber," she said courteously. "Our wish is to stabilize this island and to enjoy a summer's respite." Her voice was unwavering, but the grandeur of the moment made a quiver in her tone. Achilles cracked his knuckles behind his back and gave a rowdy cheer, but Gilgamesh scowled like a male-fan incapable of male fan-girling.
Lián's eyes drifted from face to face, seeming to contain the wisdom of ages. He tapped a finger on his lips thoughtfully. "Stabilize… vacation… world between existence and dream." His tone was as if tasting the words for flavor. "Ah." He let a small, amused laugh slip out, like tinkling bells, and the island responded with ripples of light laughter in the waves. "So…You came to wake me… by entertaining me?"
Everyone exchanged glances – Tamamo puffed out her chest proudly, Scáthach folded her arms satisfied, and Nobunaga gave a thumbs-up. "Well, yes! You gave us everything we need," Tamamo said, with a confident bounce in her stance. "Cozy nap spot, weater-lining (Oda translates to "weather lining"? maybe meaning environment) all to ourselves, and a supa fun audition!" Achilles pumped a fist. "Solid plan, boss!"
Lián's eyebrows crept up at the word "audition." He looked along the assembled heroes, his gaze resting last on the Master. The Master cleared his throat. "We… this island is maintained by your dreams," he said carefully, stepping forward with Mash at his side. "And our mission was to rouse you so that time could become stable and we could have … ah, well … a splendid vacation with you, Lord Lian." He smiled tentatively.
At the name Lián Wújiàn, Lián's eyes softened. He glanced at Mash and the others thoughtfully. "I see." His tone held both wonder and gratitude. Slowly, he stood. That movement made the entire island tremble gently. As he rose, an aura of stars spilled from his robes and the cosmic tree above him glowed even more brightly. He towered now over all assembled. Even Achilles — who was already tall — had to lean back a bit.
He ran a hand through his midnight-blue hair, causing constellations to swirl briefly in the strands. "You have awakened me from a slumber of eons," he murmured, voice humming against each syllable. "…and in such a joyful manner." When he spoke each servant's name as if he could somehow feel their souls – "Tamamo…the fox of what was, Nero…the radiant Caesar of legend, Scáthach…the spear that pierces shadow…" – he made their hearts skip. Scáthach nearly melted into a puddle on the sand, and Okita Altera tried very hard not to giggle and faint at once. Nobunaga tried to maintain a fierce glare but ended up blushing violently.
Lián turned to the Master, one hand gesturing elegantly toward his servants. "You have served me well with delight and ingenuity," he said. The golden circlet above him faintly glowed. "And so, I am now awake. I shall repay your kindness." Behind him, the cosmic tree's leaves sparkled with myriad colors, and one by one, they began to float off like balloons, carrying each Servant gently upward. The Servants squealed with glee as they were lifted just a few feet into the air. Achilles's feet dangled comically above the water; Ishtar swung her legs like a child.
"Wait—what are you doing?" Achilles shouted in surprise, but the smile on his face was wide. "I wasn't done wrestling yet!" The Master chuckled as he and Mash had been hoisted by a cluster of star-cloud branches. Then the Commander within Lián himself spoke: "I will grant your wishes. Make your desires real."
And just like that, the Singularity changed from stage to playground.
Chapter 4: The Dreaming Summer
Under Lián's benevolent influence, the island truly became a festival of dreams. The sky deepened from aqua to twilight purple – simultaneous noon and sunset – and the ocean glistened with bioluminescent coral reefs far offshore. A gentle rainfall of pink and gold stardust pattered down (no one minded getting glitter-coating). The leftover palm trees stretched and bent to form arches over the beach, their leaves humming lullabies. The sand shifted into soft cushions and hammocks wherever someone sat down, and the umbrellas rearranged into a circle of lounge chairs around a bonfire that spontaneously lit itself. Every Servant found their perfect shade or sunbeam at once.
Most magical of all, Lián Wújiàn began twisting reality to match their whims. Achilles asked, half-drunken with excitement, "Can we have some beach games?" No sooner had he asked than a cosmic marble run manifested. Neon spheres bounced along star-tracks above the water, players taking turns catapulting them for points. Achilles leaped in, chasing the bouncing orbs with triumphant shouts. Gilgamesh sighed theatrically: "Fools and games at dawn! I, Gilgamesh, rule even these fields!" From his hand flicked a golden coin, which materialized into a mini-chariot racing track. Suddenly, dozens of tiny holographic chariots (some resembling mythical creatures) clattered and whizzed about, each representing a Servant. Achilles lost to "tortoise-car" draped in cosmic haze and demanded a rematch.
In another corner, Tamamo and Nero perched on a floating cloud-tea table that Lián had conjured. On the table floated delicate iced drinks and cupcakes decorated like constellations. Tamamo purred happily as Lián, using a flick of his fingers, poured a streamer of starlight into her cup. She and Nero talked about summer memories under a canopy of singing willow branches. Nero, ever the diva, directed Tamamo to dance on a mini stage as Lián tossed shimmering blue petals around them, which joined the music in a quiet choir.
Scáthach and Ishtar had formed an impromptu duet: Ishtar strummed a harp of sunbeams as Scáthach performed spear exercises. Each strike from Scáthach was echoed by a crash of distant thunder, and each note by Ishtar made flowers of light sprout in the sand where their echoes landed. Mash watched them with relief – this was better than any battlefield combat. She was seated on a glowing shell-built beach chair next to the Master, and Lián had created a gentle seaside cottage just for her, using coral as walls and giant clams as windows. She hugged her legs and gazed out at the horizon where the sun and stars seemed to dance.
Even the more eccentric Servants found joy. BB (wearing a playful witch-hat one-piece) giggled as she rode a cosmic surfboard on a wave made of song. The wave sang lullabies of the sea, and as she surfed, flying dolphins of light jumped with her. Oda, ever impulsive, dared a deeper stunt by summoning phantom samurai warriors (not real enemies, just illusions conjured from her memories) to do a choreographed kabuki routine to the rhythm of Lián's background cosmic opera. She cheered at their perfect, goofy reenactments of Sengoku tales and accidentally got slapped with a phantom fan – only to laugh about it after when ghost makeup washed off by the singing ocean.
At the center of it all, Lián watched with amused grace. Occasionally he intervened with a gentle twist: someone wished for fireworks, so he wove actual stars into blossoming fireworks that burst into galaxies. Another wished they could slide down a rainbow, and a real rainbow arch formed in an instant, slick as glass.
Under his gaze, every dream had form. But he himself remained the serene anchor: cooling the overly excited, clarifying desires, making sure nothing went awry. When Achilles bumped an elbow into Nero, getting too close in an attempt to steal a cupcake, Lián's kind eyes briefly twinkled with mischief as he nudged her a little further – a playful gesture that made them both giggle and blush. ("Nobile Caesar and the unruly cow," Gilgamesh muttered under his breath as he watched. Achilles pretended not to hear.)
There were quiet moments too. A few Servants drifted towards Lián on their own. Mash, shy as a fawn, walked up to him while he sat by the bonfire (bonfire of particles and starlight, never burning heat). Under the cosmic tree's gentle luminescence, she hesitated, then said softly, "Thank you for letting us have such a… beautiful day." Lián turned his gaze to her, and in that instant the stars above pulsed softly to match her heartbeat. In a voice like moonwater, he replied, "It is not only you who should thank me, Mash Kyrielight. You all awakened more than just me… you awakened hope in my solitude. For eons I have listened to the dreams of the sea, but now I hear your laughter." Mash's eyes widened with surprised joy, and Achilles peered from behind a palm frond trying to eavesdrop.
Okita Alter was the next. She had quietly slid a rose petal into Lián's hand after asking him a shy question about what he dreams of when he sleeps. He read the message on it – "Who decides our fate in our dreams?" – and thought for a moment. The cosmic tree parted its branches to reveal a glimmering morning star behind him. He gestured to it: suddenly a sequence of miniature worlds appeared, playing out key moments from the day. He showed Okita her smile upon arriving, her attack volley ball game with Oda, her gentle laughter when the karaoke fireworks went off. The star spun through it all, and Lián explained softly, "You shape dreams as surely as I do. Your joy and sincerity wrote this day's story as much as mine." Okita beamed and nodded, understanding.
The entire island felt like a stage for stories, each hero living out a scene of their own design, with Lián dancing subtly behind the scenes to make it all perfect. The stars, still falling gently at noon, were actually confetti from invisible fireworks that only the dreamer's heart could see. The ocean sang lullabies at sunset, as if pausing to listen to their stories. None of it felt mundane – every seashell, every laugh, and even the slow, waxing twilight felt mythic and epic. At the same time, it was so warmly playful that at any moment a coconut might giggle or a sunbather's hat might sprout wings and flutter away.
As the long day wore on, exhaustion finally set in – but exhaustion that felt good, like after dancing all night. Servants gathered on the warm sand. Gilgamesh lounged with a cloud-dragon curled around him while Regalia (the Master) sat atop a shell-formed throne of sand. Achilles, thigh-deep in the singing sea, watched the sun-stars fall one by one. Tamamo leaned against the cosmic tree's trunk, eyes half-lidded in contentment, a paw-nodding at anything adorable flying by. Oda fell asleep cross-legged next to a pile of fish cookies that Lián conjured from sand, munching slowly. Mash rested her head against the Master's shoulder under a bioluminescent kelp-grove pillow. And Lián Wújiàn, behind them all, hummed softly into the dusk, fingers strumming a silent melody in the breeze.
He smiled – a kind, eternal smile that was both sad and joyous. "How long has it been," he murmured to himself, "since I felt such light in my dreams?" Then he turned to the Master one more time. "Your vacation ends as twilight approaches," he observed. "The Singularity will fade soon, and I must sleep again. But remember this: you awakened my dreams tonight."
The Master chuckled wearily. "And you yours, Lord Lián." In a flick of golden light he had conjured notepads and quills and started writing a memory log about this day's events. The notes themselves started to glow with warmth as he wrote, capturing the feelings.
Lián nodded. The stars in the sky wheeled overhead, then began to fade away one by one as the illusions subsided. The ocean's singing turned into a gentle sigh, settling back to ordinary waves. The sky regained its normal hue, the illusions of clouds and palm arches dissolved like morning mist. In the wake of the dream, all that remained was a pristine, private tropical beach and the faint afterglow of magic in the air.
Suddenly, a colossal pair of hands made of starlight descended and gently scooped each Servant up. "Farewell," Lián whispered. The cosmic hands placed them back on the sand where the Chaldea Gate hung shimmering. The Master and Mash were left standing by the glowing portal, the others at their sides – each slowly waking from the final blissful dream of the day.
Nero stretched dramatically as the last of the swirling lights vanished. "By Augustus, that was more invigorating than an entire victory parade!" she declared, shining with cosmic sand glitter. Tamamo clapped her paws delightedly, "Miko-n, I could sleep forever like that!" Scáthach simply nodded with a slight smirk: "Splendid. An enemy I'd gladly make if it meant more of this." Achilles gave a little growl of contentment and finished his coconut drink with a straw. Gilgamesh rolled on the sand, marvelling at how soft it was, before jumping up. "I was not entertained, per se," he mumbled, "but certainly pleased." Oda gave a curtsy even as her foot still dangled from the air.
Mash looked up at Lián's figure. He stood taller than any mortal, ethereal and kind. She couldn't help asking quietly, "Will we ever meet again?" Lián placed a luminous hand on her head. "Whenever you dream of it, you shall find me," he said softly. The words were gentle and full of promise.
With that, Lián Wújiàn closed his eyes once more. The island shimmered and folded inward like a storybook shutting. One by one, the Servants leapt back through Chaldea's gate, tanned and joyous, shouting thanks as they went. It felt as though no time had passed at all – a dream remembered. The Master lingered a moment under the golden palm trees, picking up a seashell from their walking path. He held it; within it, he could still hear the faint echo of Lián's lullaby.
"This was the best vacation," Mash breathed as they walked hand in hand with the sunset. The Master looked back at the now-empty horizon. Above it, one star winked briefly before fading in the twilight. It may have been Lián's way of saying goodbye.
In the years to come, none of them would forget the Island of Falling Stars – the lost summer dream that had slipped into reality, if only for a day. And in quiet moments, when the ocean sang at dusk, or a star fell midafternoon, they would know that somewhere, Lián Wújiàn still slept under the cosmic tree, dreaming of them.