With this, the urgency Steve once felt in learning the world's true nature faded unconsciously. His mind, once burning with ceaseless calculation, found a new sort of calm.
He thought further.
Indeed, "human decay" is the ultimate, most difficult problem. Yet, like the impending end of "Burning Human Order," its root cause is the [death of Gaia]. The planet, in its last agony, howls and sends UO towards the stars, calling for vengeance and for purifying the last of humanity.
Similarly, the "Tsuki no Sango" world's Land of Steel ending is fundamentally due to the [death of Alaya]. Human collective consciousness gave up its will to exist, dissolving within the planet's embrace back to nothing.
But for now, neither has happened. In the Tsukihime line, while Alaya is weak, it persists, struggling for self-salvation; in FATE's world, Gaia is hemmed in by Human Order, unable to let Dead Apostles become True Ancestors. Even "Principle Blood" concepts—unique to Tsukihime—are washed away by the flood of Human Order.
However large the gap, the game continues.
And, by 2001, somewhere on Earth, the drama between the True Ancestor Princess and the boy with Mystic Eyes of Death Perception was probably beginning—or ending.
Alaya, in its weakened state, does its best, arranging for Tohno Shiki and Arcueid to meet, attempting to sever Roa, the thousand-year-old serpent, and, indirectly, to influence Gaia, fighting desperately to survive.
As for why Steve's "Project Terra Sancta" was making such smooth progress—likely, it was the desperate self-rescue of Alaya's "Will of Humanity" making subtle interventions.
After all, scattering the flames of humanity into space is the best insurance for Alaya's survival.
Regarding Gaia—Earth itself does not seem hostile to humanity leaving for the stars. In fact, it seems almost optimistic.
That may explain why none of Earth's shadowy superpowers—be they Dead Apostles or True Ancestors—have made any real move to stop his grand population transfer. They perhaps simply don't see it as a threat to their interests.
Realizing this, Steve felt a lasting sense of relief.
For now, these two greatest suppressors posed no obstacle. A precious, untouched "window of strategic opportunity" lay before him.
So, he shifted his gaze to Sion.
Those beautiful violet eyes—slightly wider in confusion, touched with a faint flush upon her pale cheeks under the heat of thought—looked so endearing when expressionless.
At this moment, Steve's careful balance quietly... tipped.
Big questions matter. But so, too, does your private life.
He wasn't overwhelmed by the feeling, nor did it quite match his usual type. Still, something about her inspired a faint maneuvering of his heart...
If only she'd looked a bit more like the Sion image that briefly appeared during "FGO" anniversaries, he thought.
That's when a gentle smile, unnoticed by even him, surfaced at his lips. Like a warm current, it melted the heavy, tense atmosphere of the lab.
"...What we're discussing today is probably beyond the limits of either of our brains."
He stepped forward, speaking in a relaxed, almost disbelieving tone.
"So—let's end the strategy meeting here for the day. Let's have a late dinner—to celebrate your new life—a life free from burden, and to help cool our overworked processors."
Sion blinked in a daze.
Her mind was still analyzing "human decay" and the mystery of why he'd suddenly asked her true name. Now this invitation felt like a high-priority pop-up that forcibly paused all her background routines.
She seemed lost for a moment, as if she'd never understood the word "dinner" before.
Seeing this, Steve's smile deepened.
"Heavy talk about the world's future..." he said, "is best left for sitting around the table with wine, at a relaxed pace. Sometimes logic is clearest in such an atmosphere."
Those words gave Sion the perfect prompting.
A delicate blush rose further on her cheeks. She quietly averted her eyes and spoke—soft as a mosquito's hum, but consent, all the same.
It was her first time deciding not by "calculation" or "analysis," but something purer—intuition.
So Steve led her out of the data-scented P5 lab onto a private lift, heading up to his own private observatory restaurant on the Asteria station's top floor.
The difference was clear.
No metal walls or flashing screens, but warm wooden floors, soft sofas, and a crystal chandelier gleaming with gentle rings of light.
The entire dining room wall was a seamless panoramic window, revealing Earth—an irreplaceable blue jewel on black velvet.
He pulled out a seat for her facing the view—the perfect position.
Sion sat a little awkwardly, her white sterile suit almost out of place amid this living restaurant, though it also highlighted her unique alchemist-soldier temperament.
Soon, the AI-controlled robotic arms set out exquisite food and fine Burgundy wine.
He filled both their glasses and raised his.
"Well then, for our first toast," Steve smiled, looking at her. "To a free soul."
Sion awkwardly lifted her glass, and the clink rang crisp and clear. She took a tiny sip, her delicate reaction almost awkward, but also lighting up something genuinely fresh inside her.
She stared at the swirling red in her cup, looked outside at the splendid planet, and for the first time, something beyond pure reason—emotion—rose in her eyes.
Instead of rushing to explain the tangled worldline mysteries, Steve offered another question.
"How does it feel? Truly—what does it feel like to breathe in this new body, free of all burdens?"
He wanted her to experience the wonder of "being alive" before they spoke again of saving the world.
And, meanwhile, he'd carefully watch to see what unknown new facets this brilliant girl might show, now she was truly unbound.