Okay, so, this is an unusual case. I'm archiving a revised chapter of an existing story, namely, my Berserk crossover Ubi Amor, Ibi Dolor. If you've read that story, then go re-read the ending. I've changed quite a bit.

There's a reason for that. I've been catching up on the manga, and after trying and failing to make a sequel work a couple of times, I realised there was a lot of wasted potential there in the manga prior to the Conviction Arc, which was where the sequel was going to start. The Misty Valley Arc has some intriguing characters in Rosine and Jill, something deathbearABC123 used for Harry Potter and the Berserker. After some brief discussions with them, I decided to change the ending. This is the original ending.

This, I must emphasize, does not guarantee a sequel to Ubi Amor, Ibi Dolor. And if I do do a sequel, I do not intend to ape Harry Potter and the Berserker word for word, as I do have an interesting plan in place that could allow for Rosine to start on a heel-face turn...assuming she survives. Not to mention giving Jill a better outcome than canon.

On unrelated notes, I do still have some stories in the offing. I am considering a different Sword Art Online story, as well as a crossover with Akame ga Kill!, and the High School DxD stories with the Raynare and Rossweisse pairings respectively are still on the cards. Just don't hold your breath waiting for them. I'm suffering from burnout at the moment, and I need time to get back to par...

UBI AMOR, IBI DOLOR

EPILOGUE:

THE CONTINUING STRUGGLE AGAINST FATE (ORIGINAL)

Casca had come a long way, she knew. While the wounds inflicted on her heart, mind and soul during the Eclipse hadn't healed completely, she was now better, close to what she was before the Eclipse, no, before Griffith was imprisoned. Guts' departure, Griffith vanishing, and her argument with Harry, those opened up the cracks that the Eclipse used as shatterpoints. And while cracks were still there, she felt better.

She felt stronger too. Although she never mastered the magic of this world as much as either Harry or Schierke did, she could use it, teaming up with Harry to strengthen their spells, though she still specialised in swordplay. She was now back to her physical peak…no, better.

She could never be as strong as Guts, wielding the Dragonslayer with seemingly little effort. Nor could she be as powerful as Harry was in magic, and certainly not as versatile. But she could get stronger, hone her skills. She was their commander, something she almost forgot. With Griffith having betrayed them, become Femto, the Band of the Hawk, for all that there were only four of them left, needed a leader.

Rickert's mission was to protect Charlotte and Anna from the forces searching for them. Guts was to thin out the Apostles. And Casca and Harry were to find out what they can about the Godhand, the Apostles, and the Behelits, as well as train themselves.

Admittedly, Flora couldn't offer them much in the way of concrete information about the Godhand. She alluded to them being puppets of a higher, or rather, a lower power, but she didn't know exactly what it was, only that it existed, deep within the layers of the Astral World, right at the bottom. But she also taught them much about magic. Harry had become more powerful. But would it be enough to take on the Godhand?

Then again, of all the Godhand, it was Femto she wanted to kill, that Harry and Guts wanted to kill. Even now, she couldn't escape the feeling of being violated by him that haunted her memories and nightmares. And seeing him again only unearthed the old memories.

However, there was one bit of good news. Casca had managed to overcome the last of her fear of intimacy a little while ago. It wasn't absent, rather, she was able to bed Harry without her having flashbacks to Femto. Flora helped with her counselling, and some concoctions, helping mitigate the worst of it.

She still couldn't have children. What Femto did to her couldn't be undone. Harry had considered seeing if he could find a way back to Earth, try something called IVF and see if that worked, and Casca was actually considering it. Having a child was not the be-all and end-all of her existence, but it would be a nice thing to have with Harry.

They already had one child, true, and like Harry, Casca's feelings of disgust and fear had given way to pity, and a desire to help the demonically-tainted creature. Perhaps she could find a way of restoring what its form should have been, though Flora admitted, even she didn't know if it was possible. Sometimes, she joined Harry in watching and contemplating their child, and wondering whether they could restore them to what they should have been.

It had been two years since the Eclipse now. Two years since they departed Godo's smithy for this place. Casca wasn't sure whether they had learned anything truly new, and yet, this time was needed, to heal, and to train. Guts' last missive in the diary said that he was heading to Misty Valley, having heard rumours of something happening there.

Their bonds had grown with Flora and Schierke. They felt like family. And yet…Casca felt ill at ease. Their time here was not one of indolence and idleness, and yet, Guts was seemingly doing more. And what was more, Casca couldn't help but shake a feeling of foreboding. That something terrible was about to happen, or perhaps already had.

She was sitting on a log, cleaning her sword, when she sensed Schierke sitting down next to him. "You're leaving soon, aren't you?" the young witch asked.

"…I don't know when, but yes. I've got this sense of foreboding. Something's going to happen soon."

"…I agree. So does Mistress Flora and Harry," the green-haired girl said. "But…we don't know what. The Eclipse is only supposed to happen every 216 years, and it's only been two. And there's five members of the Godhand now. That logically suggests that they have a full complement…which itself is disturbing. If they have a full complement…what are their plans now?"

"Nothing good, that's all I can say," Casca said, watching as the dumpy form of a golem waddled by.

"There is one thing, actually. Harry's using his Astral Form to try and track down Guts, see what's happening to him. But…he relayed to me that he's spotted the Holy Iron Chain Knights in the vicinity of Misty Valley. Led by that Farnese girl, along with Serpico and the Bridge Knight. It seems they haven't wholly given up on pursuing you two, or Guts. If Guts gets caught between an Apostle and the Holy Iron Chain Knights…"

Casca nodded. Guts was ridiculously tough, but he was far from invincible, and so many of his fights against Apostles led to him being injured in some way lately. If the Holy Iron Chain Knights stumbled across him after one of these battles, they might be able to capture him.

"If he gets into too much trouble, we might have to go and help him this time," Casca said. "I mean…we will come back, but I'm not sure how much more we can learn from Flora, not when so many people are suffering and dying."

Schierke looked away. "I understand. I don't like it, but I understand. You said you would come back, though."

Casca nodded, before gently hugging the young witch. "…I promise. You're family, Schierke, by choice if not by blood. My own family sold me, even if I've forgiven them for that, while you never really knew your birth parents. Neither did Harry. You're like a little sister, and a daughter both."

Schierke smiled sadly, before she touched Casca's hand. "When you leave…I'll use some of my hair to act as a link for thought transference. If nothing else, I can see what you see through your eyes, and hear what you hear, and speak to you, maybe give you advice. Just…I know you two are intimate again, so could you give me some warning before you do while you're on the road?" The young witch blushed a little, bashfully.

"Sure. It's not like Harry and I will be needing much privacy that often anyway. We've only just reached the point where we can…you know. But I'd be glad to hear your voice while we're on the road…"

Harry looked at the crystal, which was now glowing. "Is this the signal for the Portkey beacon you left with Guts' prosthetic arm?" Casca asked.

Harry nodded. "I've been watching what he was doing, on and off. There was an Apostle…called Rosine, wanted to be Queen of the Elves. She was twisted and monstrous, and yet…something about her was pitiable. Guts managed to stop her, saving this girl called Jill from Rosine, but…the Holy Iron Chain Knights have caught up to him. Between his wounds from fighting Rosine, his fatigue, and Azan beating the crap out of him, Guts is now their prisoner. They broke part of his prosthetic. I'm not sure he needs rescue on his own…but I still intend to go."

"And after that point?" Flora asked.

"…Travel with Guts for a little while. You said something is coming. If there's any way we can stop something truly bad from happening, or from getting worse, we'll do it," Harry said grimly.

"…Perhaps." Flora looked contemplative, pensive. "…It may be that the coming event is not unlike the Eclipse in horror. Perhaps my old friend knows something."

"If only he was less cryptic with the advice," Harry muttered. "We'll try and come back once everything is a bit more settled. After that…"

"Skellig," Casca decided. "If nothing else, the Flower Storm Monarch might have something more to tell us."

"True," Flora conceded. "I am knowledgeable about magic and the Astral World, but I do not know everything, or even a large fraction thereof, not of the subjects you wish to know about. If you do head to Skellig…take Schierke with you."

Harry and Casca looked at the young witch, before they both nodded.

Their preparations were hasty, but not overly so. They prepared, checked, and double-checked with as much swiftness as they could manage. Harry, with Flora's help, had found that, while Guts' prosthetic arm was damaged enough to trigger the Portkey signal, it was still moving, presumably with Guts, and the Holy Iron Chain Knights. The Portkey, therefore, was modified to leave them a safe distance away from where Guts was being held.

"So, what's the plan, Cas?" Harry asked as they used Disillusionment Charms to conceal themselves during their approach. It was now afternoon.

"You distract these idiots," Casca said. "I'll go and find Guts. We'll have to find somewhere to lay low for the night. I hope you can draw that seal on Guts' brand."

"It'll take time. Do you reckon we should take a hostage? It might hold off any pursuit until we're far away enough to have a breather."

"…Maybe. You brought up that greenhorn girl, Farnese de Vandimion. I might go for her. Fanatics like her, going on about God…if there really is a God, why wasn't he there at the Eclipse?"

"…Maybe a god was, but maybe it was more of a devil," Harry mused. "What else but an evil god would have angels like the Godhand?"

"…Never mind that. Okay, I'm splitting off now," Casca said. "Give me a minute, and then start raising hell."

Harry grinned. "Cas, you really know how to say the sweetest things."

Casca scurried off. No farewells were needed. No goodbyes. Because they knew they would see each other soon. He had faith in her. Not in any god, cruel or benign. He had faith in her. Complete and utter faith. It was more concrete than anything.

He remembered something Flora had brought up, more as a philosophical question. Was the destiny of humanity governed by transcendental law, or by some entity, like the hand of God? It was a truth that many humans had no control over their destiny, and over their own will. And yet, there were those who fought, contended, and struggled against this fate.

And there was another thing that Flora had shared with him, a speculation as to what the Godhand truly served. She posited the fact that gods could be created, instead of being creators. And perhaps, deep in the abyssal layers of the Astral World, something dark was born of a human desire to have an origin of all that was evil in the world. An Idea of Evil as it were, the dark heart of all human souls.

If there was something like that responsible for the misery he, Guts and Casca had gone through, he was going to stab it. Preferably in whatever passed for its dick for starters.

Still, that was for another time. A vicious grin touched his lips. He had a job to do, one that he did exceedingly well at, one that was in the blood, given his Marauder heritage.

Causing chaos.

From a distance, a figure dressed in skeletal armour watched as the camp of the Holy Iron Chain Knights dissolved into chaos, like an ant nest that had been kicked. Behind the helmet, whatever remained of the man who wore the armour smiled, though whether it was with lips, or some spectral wisp, few knew. But there was a smile all the same.

The Struggler, a single-minded fighter who had been born from death itself. The Warrior, a woman who had fought all her life against the preconceptions of society. And the Wizard, the pebble in the pond, the edge of the coin, a herald of chaos.

Soon, they would be forced to confront the next advent of the one they had once loved, and now loathed. But even then, the future was far from certain, not as fixed as it once was. He would warn them about what was to come…but what could they do? Some parts were fixed. But other parts? Could more people be saved? Would others die? Who could say? This chaos obscured the future. But it was not a chaos the Skull Knight was afraid of. In his long, long life, a period of existence that spanned over a millennium, he had seen many different kinds of chaos.

And this chaos…it had the potential for good or evil. For triumph and defeat. All that was needed was to navigate it, and find victory against the forces of darkness.

Navigating chaos was a struggle. But then, so was life. A never-ending struggle. And after so many years, the Skull Knight, after seeing Guts, Casca, and Harry in action, allowed a small ember of hope to be kindled. That perhaps their actions could do some good for the world. Nothing was certain, and perhaps it was little more than a comforting lie, a dream of victory. But perhaps it could become truth.

Dreams were dangerous, seductive things. But sometimes, they may just come true.

THE END

EPILOGUE ANNOTATIONS:

So, there you have it. The conclusion to Ubi Amor, Ibi Dolor. True, there's the possibility of a sequel set during the Conviction Arc, but sequels to my works have palled for me, lately, so there's no guarantee of one.

I'm sorry if this ending is a bit rushed, guys. But…well, I wanted to end it by this point in the story from the beginning. I wanted to end the main story with the Golden Age's end, and the framing story with the beginning of the Conviction Arc.

If I do do the Conviction Arc, and there's no guarantee of that, I might bring in some Potterverse characters, who have finally tracked down Harry. One thing I'm definitely doing is bumping off Nina. I despise her. Luca, on the other hand, is now one of my favourite characters who isn't part of the regulars.

Anyway…I hope you guys have enjoyed this fic. I can't guarantee a sequel, but if I manage to write some of it, I'll post an update chapter. Otherwise…well, here it is. Completed, like the fic that inspired it. I owe the fact this fic exists to deathbearABC123 and Harry Potter and the Berserker. Thank you very much for your help in formulating this story, even if it's inferior to your work.

Well, this is it. Thank you, and hope you enjoyed it.

No numbered annotations this time.