I am the bone of my sword...

He was a sword. He was always a sword. He had always been a sword. Even when his ideals caused him tremendous pain, even when his strength was not enough, he will always be a sword. A hero of Justice whose body was made of blades, fighting for the sake of Humanity.

But he was never the strongest, nor was he ever the fastest. And yet, he always gathered just enough power to stand a chance. Even when those chances were low, he found a way. He always found a way. And with every victory, he grew. Stronger... Faster... Wiser...

Steel is my body and fire is my blood...

In time, his body became steadfast as steel, his blood was filled with iron coated in fire, and his heart turned clear yet fragile as a glass. The scope of his ideals was vast. It was... Unlimited.

I have created over a thousand blades...

He fought through countless battlefields, creating over a thousand blades, always pursuing his ideals. But not even once he retreated, even if the odds were against him, nor was he ever understood, even if his actions were selfless and unconditional. And as he continued to forge weapons on that hill of swords, he understood, filled with no regret, this was his only path.

Unknown to Death, nor known to Life...

He didn't stop, even if no one will remember his name unto his death. He wouldn't stop, even if no one knew his name in life. He never sought to be the best. For him, it was just a stepping stone; a tool. And with no other desire in mind save for the Justice he sought, he finally became the ideal.

Have withstood pain to create many weapons...

But even that sole ideal, that one dream he had chased all his life, was a double-edged Blade. He stood on that hill of blades, above his foes and allies, victorious. But he was alone. He was still alone. He was always alone. He will forever be alone.

Yet those hands will never hold anything...

His shattered dreams became his blades, and in his eyes lied emptiness. His tender heart carried sadness and utter regret.
His hands grasped nothing as his ideals vanished into the wind. And he watched as his enemies disappear and his allies abandoned him as he leaves his Works across time.

So as I pray...

Because all that was left in his world was...

Unlimited Blade Works...

...an endless sea of blades...

But not even Fate could hide him from Destiny.

His chances dwindled, but he saw light. He found salvation. He thought it was through death, but it was not what he had expected.

Wills clashed, at the feet of his soul, as the sounds of broken blades echoed in the landscapes. It cried in sorrow and defiance, and in time he began to see,

His will was indeed Unlimited.
His broken Blade was made anew.
His Works actually mattered.

And in that moment, he finally realized...

He was never just a sword. Heroes have dreams too. And for the first time, he understood.

He was never wrong...

Him, a hero, was never wrong.

This one-shot was inspired by several YouTubers with many of the words I used here directly taken from them. However, I also added my own twists as well as rearranged it to better fit Archer's UBW aria.

Feedbacks will be highly appreciated. :)

Until next time!