#also gawain allying with him makes me go WHAT IF.... WHAT IF THIS DID HAPPEN

[orkneyism]

mordred died for gay rights?

[naruwitch]

Code Geass: Paladins of Voltron Chapter 37: Battle for Home

The entire perimeter of the Tokyo Settlement had crumbled. All power shorted out throughout the entire city, including the areas that haven't been destroyed yet. Any Galran-Brittainian forces on the ground had been crushed or scattered. Even the Galra vessels in the sky had been thrown off-guard, especially after the Castleship's massive attack, flying around frantically like drunken bees.

It was a window of confusion that the Voltron Coalition didn't let go to waste.

"ATTACK!"

Lelouch's booming cry from the head of Voltron was all the fleet needed to surge forward. Like shooting stars, the Seishins, Lancelot, Gawain, and any other upgraded Knightmares they had at their disposal launched into the settlement. From the sky, the Castleship's particle barrier rose once more, but it didn't retreat up into the clouds. Practically making up an army on its own, lasers and blasts from the barrier raining down on the Galra ships, providing much needed cover for the Black Knights in combat.

There were also ground Knightmares and additional troops on the ground, with Ohgi in the lead to take down any remaining straggling Britannian troops.

"Third Squad, take the media sector!" Tohdoh ordered as the map of the areas to secure appeared on his Knightmare's screen, "Sixth Squad, the harbor! Special Forces, suppress the lower levels! The rest of you, push in from the front! Leave the Galra forces to the Aerial troops! Focus on gathering intelligence on any remaining enemy ground forces! Quickly!"

"My soldiers! Hear me!" Cornelia shouted from within the Gawain, the Lancelot flanking her, "Push them back to the Britannian Government Bureau!"

"Yes, Princess!" her squadron answered as one, Guilford, Darlton, and Nonette's voices among them.

"Form sword!" Lelouch ordered. With a growl, Suzaku slammed his Bayard into the port and the weapon manifested. With a burst from its rockets, Voltron sped towards the closest Galra cruiser, the sword slicing through it like a hot knife through butter.

"Alright!" Rivalz exclaimed before pausing, Polaris's purr suddenly increasing, "What…?" the Blue Paladin suddenly gasped as the Bayard port slowly rose from the dashboard, "You sure?"

"What is it, Rivalz?" Lelouch questioned.

"Um, not sure, but Polaris wants to try something!"

"Let's do it then!" Milly exclaimed eagerly, similar feelings bouncing off the other Paladins as well.

"Here goes nothing then!" Rivalz shouted as he slammed his Bayard into the port.

Outside, the sword in Voltron's hand vanished, only for a blue outline to form on the robot's right shoulder. Grasping the cannon with both arms, a bright glow enveloped the muzzle before a flash exploded out, huge sonic waves escaping and racing towards another Galran vessel. The ship froze in mid-flight, the lights inside flickering dangerously before everything went dark, and the cruiser descended into the sea, humongous waves blasting away from the impact.

"Whoa! Nice!" Tamaki cheered from his Seishin as he and a few other Knightmares paused in flight to witness the display.

"That's a new one," Darlton muttered in awe, vaguely remembering the similar cannon that would appear on the Blue Lion's back from time to time. The knight would admit that while he hated having to fight the Paladins as enemies, as allies, they were incredible.

Nunnally barely noticed how her arms began to ache from squeezing them too hard as she stared down at her legs. She could vaguely hear the sounds of cannons and lasers flying outside as her brother, his friends, and other allies were fighting for the very fate of their home. And now, even after regaining her legs and sight, she still felt useless. She knew her brother had told her otherwise, but she couldn't stop the feeling of helplessness crawling through her body.

Why was it that every time she tried to help, to accomplish something good, it crumbled in her hands? At the zone, when her own father had raised guns at her and her family,  Lelouch had been the one to shield her, and she had just froze. Exactly like she had when-

"Nunnally, take a deep breath for me…" C.C.'s calm voice ordered softly, shaking her from what she now realized was a minor panic attack.

Still, she did her best to obey and took a shuddering breath in and out, slowly returning to herself.

"There, feeling better?" the immortal asked, her blunt voice laced with concern.

Nunnally swallowed but nodded slightly. Dragging her eyes from her legs, they landed on Euphemia, still unconscious in the pod behind her, but at least alive.

"...This is too much," Nunnally whispered, "Why did it come down to this? He… he tried to kill  Euphie. He tried to…"

Kill me… remained unsaid.

C.C. sighed, not in frustration but out of pure resignation and exhaustion. "There are simply people in this world who… aren't good, Nunnally. They won't accept anything unless it's for their benefit. I've met more than my fair share of those people in my long life."

Nunnally grit her teeth, tears prickling the corners of her eyes. "Yes, I know that… And I know big brother told me this isn't true, but I still feel useless! Brother and the others are all fighting, risking their lives, and I still can't do anything even with my sight and legs back!"

C.C. took a moment to gather her thoughts. This wasn't Lelouch, who she could be straightforward and factual with in her nearly emotionless tone. This was a scared, desperate young girl who had been thrown time and again into situations she shouldn't have to deal with.

"...Nunnally, just because you aren't out there fighting doesn't mean you're useless. Everyone has a role to play in war. Some find their roles right away like the Paladins did. Others discover their roles later, waiting and watching for the time to come. That act alone can be excruciating. And there are even those who don't realize until the conflict ends that they  did  play a role when they look back and realize that their smaller, seemingly unseen actions, helped bring victory."

C.C. paused as the young princess looked up.

"And sometimes, there are simply places that we need to be that aren't the battlefield. And right now, your sister needs someone to be here when she wakes up, and…" she paused, then placed a hand on Nunnally's shoulder, "You're not alone here, Nunnally. I promised your brother I'd be there for him, and I'll be here for you as well."

Nunnally felt her emotions boil over and couldn't stop herself from lunging at C.C. She felt like she had cried so much the last several days, both from sorrow and happiness, but these were most certainly tears of gratitude.

"Thank you…" she hiccuped, "Thank you for helping Lelouch. And Suzaku, and everyone! Thank you… thank you…"

C.C. froze for a moment in surprise at the sudden action, but slowly, her arms wrapped around the young girl as well.

"I will," she whispered back, "I'll be there for all of you…"

  'And you won't lay so much as a finger on them, Charles. Or you… Marianne.'

A beeping sound soon attracted the pair's attention, and in a burst of steam, the frame on Euphemia's pod dissolved. Her eyes shot open with a gasp as she slumped forward, C.C. catching her before she could hit the ground.

Chigusa shielded her eyes as a bright laser from the Castle's shields struck an oncoming Galra fighter, where it burst into flames and impacted the barrier itself. While the hexagonal pieces made it difficult to view the fight from a window, she caught glimpses of battle on the ground and air. People were fighting for their lives outside, fighting a seemingly impossible battle in hopes that they may be able to win and save their home.

She let out a shuddering breath, daring to wonder just how many had died now. The massacre that happened just hours prior had been devastating enough, and while she lent her assistance in treating the injured that were brought on board, so many more still succumbed to their injuries. And that nightmare wasn't over yet.

A jolt of pain suddenly pierced her skull. Chigusa groaned and clutched her head, any surrounding sounds and noise being drowned out from the buzzing in her skull.

The Gawain's hadron cannons unleashed a devastating attack against a group of nearly three dozen Galra fighters, melting the metal and exploding moments later.

"Die you alien scum!" Cornelia roared as she fired the Knightmare's slash harkens into two more she had missed.

A crash from behind her made her jump, and looking at her monitor, she spotted Guilford's Seishin lowering his maser sword and a fighter, cut cleanly in two, descending to the ground.

"Tch," she scoffed, "Coward, attacking from behind!"

"Are you alright, Princess?" Guilford asked.

"Yes, don't worry about me, Guilford. What's the status of the rest of the squad?"

"Our casualties are substantial, but the Glaston Knights and Darlton are holding a position just ahead of here, pushing towards the Bureau as you ordered. Nonette is providing back up where she can."

"Excellent! Continue at this pace. Our comrades' deaths won't be in vain! Lelouch, did you catch that?"

"Every word, Cornelia," Lelouch acknowledged as Voltron's sonic cannon disabled another cruiser, "Ohgi, status on ground troops?"

"Raiko cannons are at the ready!" Kaname responded, "Ground troops mostly consist of those sentry robots and Britannian infantry units!"

"Concentrate the Raikos on the Britannian forces. Use your own Knightmare weapons on the sentries. Aim for the heads and arms to disable them!"

"Understood!"

"Suzaku! We need the sword again," Lelouch exclaimed as the sonic cannon vanished.

To his surprise, though, the Purple Paladin didn't respond.

"Suzaku?!" Rai exclaimed.

From inside Yoru, Suzaku was frozen. Not in fear or shock, but it seemed like someone had pressed the pause button on a television. His eyes were wide and staring straight ahead, the left glowing bright with the Geass sigil. It wasn't until several seconds later that the Purple Paladin blinked and shook his head.

"What the…?" What had just happened? He saw a large object approaching Earth rapidly. What was-

"SUZAKU!" the rest of the team shouted in unison.

"Uh-sorry!" he scrambled to realign and sync his mind with the group once more.

"Keep your head in the game, Kururugui!" Kallen barked.

"Right… sorry!" he apologized, shaking his head, but couldn't shake the image of a familiar dark transport crashing onto the battlefield from his mind.

Focusing once more, he reinserted his Bayard, the sword manifesting once more.

"Lady Haggar,"  a head druid addressed on the ship's main bridge, "The latest weapons are now complete. Lord Zarkon has ordered their launch and will reach your destination within five dobashes."

"Good," Haggar acknowledged, "These humans are more resilient than we originally thought. But even with the assistance of the Altean princess, this world will fall by day's end."

"Haggar, if I may, I have an idea I'd like to propose," V.V. approached slowly as the call ended.

"Hm?" she turned to the immortal, eyes narrowing.

V.V. scowled at first before his features schooled themselves again, "Right now, the Paladins and Black Knights are focused on the battlefield, they likely have only left the bare minimum necessary on the Castle of Lions, in order to guard their families and the rescued civilians."

"I advise you get to the point," Haggar frowned deeply, eyes seeming to drill into V.V.

"I simply request you transport me on board the castle," V.V. explained, "I would do it myself with the help of the Thought Elevator, but unfortunately, that pesky Black Lion destroyed it on the island, making my range more limited, hence why I'm asking for assistance."

"And why would I assist with this?" she asked scathingly.

V.V. resisted the urge to growl at being talked down to so belligerently but continued, "It's simple. I will capture Princess Nunnally and C.C. as well. They are both on board and likely not being guarded too closely. This could be a prime opportunity to deal a more… personal blow to Zero."

Haggar wasn't the only one to glare suspiciously at the immortal at this proposal, as Charles eyed his brother cautiously as well. He could see where his brother's line of thinking was going. Above all else, Lelouch's first priority was, and always would be, Nunnally. If he heard she was in danger, he would likely drop everything, even abandon the battlefield to help her.

"It could work," Charles finally spoke, "So long as she remains safe, everything else comes second to Zero. If V.V. succeeds, we'll have a firm hold on Voltron, and the rest of Earth will have little to no resistance without a leader. And if that's not enough, my Geass can rewrite her memories. I could make her despise Zero, which would deal a further emotional blow to Zero and the Paladins as well."

"While that is true," Haggar admitted, "Why capture this C.C.? Your power will have no effect on her. She will be of little use as a pawn."

"Perhaps," V.V. agreed, "but it's best to keep someone like her, who holds to the ability as me to grant Geass, away from our enemies. You are more than welcome to do anything you want with her. With your forces on our side, she's outlived her usefulness."

Haggar continued to stare suspiciously at the two and didn't miss the way Charles's eyes flickered at the mention of this 'C.C.' It was clear they, or at least he was planning something with the girl. But, should she be in their hands, Haggar could have more control over her whereabouts and keep a closer eye on these two. Plus, if the smaller one's plan succeeded, it sounded like they would severely cripple Voltron, which would make it that much easier for her Lord to obtain the Lions.

"Very well," Haggar finally conceded, "I will go along with your plan… Under the condition that both of them are brought first to me. Should you do so otherwise, there will be… painful consequences. Am I clear?"

Both V.V. and Charles hesitated for a moment before they both nodded.

Before V.V. turned to leave, though, Haggar held out her hand, and to the bewilderment of the two, a small ball of energy formed in her palm before shrinking to about the size of a marble.

"Take this," she instructed, holding her hand out to V.V. The 'boy' hesitated before plucking the marble from her palm, "If you truly wish to succeed in this mission, have that make contact with the woman. It will render her powerless."

V.V. looked at the marble skeptically once more before smirking and stashing it in his pocket.

"You have my thanks…"

"Ha!" Kallen exclaimed as Voltron slammed its surger claw into the bow of another Galra cruiser. It lit up like a nightlight before the insides imploded, sending debris flying everywhere. "Alright! Who's next?!"

"Paladins!"  Coran suddenly exclaimed through the comms.

"Go on, Coran," Lelouch requested.

  "We believe we've identified the Galra's flagship. If it's destroyed, it will destabilize the Galras' communication! From there, it should be easy to push back any remaining Galra troops!"

At hearing this, Lelouch couldn't help but grin widely. The other Paladins shared similar sentiment through the link.

"Very good, then we-"

"Paladins, wait!" Allura's panicked voice suddenly interrupted.

"What's wrong, Allura?" Milly asked, immediately noticing her tone.

  "Something large is approaching Earth's atmosphere, and it's not another warship!"

"Something large…?" Rivalz asked.

Suzaku felt his blood grow cold. His mind flashed back to the… vision (?) he had just over fifteen dobashes prior. He had seen something large crash land on the battlefield. Could have…?

"All Black Knights, projectile incoming!" Lelouch warned as he spotted the object Allura mentioned rapidly approaching.

Several Seishins, both ground and air, scrambled to get out of the way as with a deafening crash, the object landed in front of Voltron.

An object with a certain coffin-like shape to it.

"Oh no…" Shirley whispered in horror, "Is that… what I think it is…?"

"Yeah," Kallen nodded, "Looks like we got another Ro-Beast!"

"Zero, what is that?!" Chiba demanded as most other forces, both with and against Voltron, stopped to stare at the newest threat.

"Bad news…" was all Lelouch could say before, with a resounding click, the device opened, clouds of steam emanating from inside. The front and sides of the structure tumbled to the ground, revealing the grotesque monster within.

The creature this time was colored almost completely white with only a few hints of red and purple, with a pointed head, long limbs, and even a hunched back. Much like the Drazil Ro-Beast, the creature's mouth was aligned with sharp, overlapping teeth.

"Black Knights! Evacuate the area! We'll deal with this!" Lelouch ordered.

"You're facing that thing on your own?!" Nonette's voice exclaimed.

"Nonette, we'll be fine. This isn't the first Ro-Beast we've fought!" Rai barked, "Just focus on your own fight!"

The beast's head then suddenly jerked up, and malicious red eyes flashed to life. A sound similar to a rumbling growl could be heard as it gazed around before finally landing on Voltron. Its eyes widened upon seeing them before it threw its head back and screamed.

On the ground and in the air, several Knightmares faltered as their pilots were forced to cover their ears. Even Cornelia, Nonette, and Guilford did, and they were the ones most used to being around bomb explosions and Knightmare engines.

The only ones unaffected were the Paladins themselves. And a good thing too, as seconds later, long, sharp claws shot out from the beast, aiming to pierce Voltron's chest.

"Rai, shield!" Lelouch shouted almost frantically.

The Green Lion's shield blocked the metallic claws in the knick of time, scraping across like nails on a chalkboard.

This action only seemed to enrage the Ro-Beast, as it shrieked again and charged at them, purple flaming jetpacks blazing behind it.

On instinct, Shirley and Rivalz fired Voltron's thrusters as well, and Voltron shot into the sky. To their shock, the Ro-Beast followed after them with barely any delay, almost like it knew they were going to dodge upward. It pulled a clawed hand back again.

"Okay, two can play at that game, bud!" Kallen exclaimed, plunging her Bayard into her port.

The wave surger claw manifested, and Kallen swung with a roar towards the Ro-Beast's head… only for the beast to catch the arm right under Aka's neck, effectively stopping the surger without injuring its hand or head.

"What?!" Kallen gasped.

"It stopped us?!" Milly added, just as shocked as the others.

The Ro-Beast didn't waste the opportunity as it head-butted Voltron and threw him downwards, impacting the ground hard.

Lelouch grunted in pain, Zen's cockpit still vibrating from the impact. "Okay…" he gritted out.

"Alright, this guy is asking for it!" Rivalz snarled, reinserting his own Bayard. The sonic cannon reappeared on Voltron's shoulder, blasting a bout of sonic waves at the Ro-Beast. Twisting like a fighter jet in a show, the Ro-Beast easily dodged every blast sent its way.

"Suzaku! Sword!" Lelouch shouted.

Suzaku's Bayard released the sword in the knick of time as the weapon blocked the beast's claws, scraping loudly, metal on metal, before managing to push it off of them and rocket into the sky again, kicking up a large cloud of dust in the process. The beast screeched as the cloud engulfed the area.

Seeing this as an opportunity, Lelouch narrowed his eyes, "Shirley! Arrows now!"

Seconds later, Voltron's bow appeared in his hands, and with his eyes to the back of the Ro-Beast, they let the arrow lose…

...Only for the Ro-Beast to duck like it was casually dodging a ball in a park.

"What?!" Kallen exclaimed.

"Tha-Does it have eyes on the back of its head or something?!" Rivalz exclaimed.

"Tch… what the hell's going on?!" Lelouch cursed before Voltron flew into the sky again, and this time the Ro-Beast followed with a roar after them.

"Lelouch!" Cornelia gasped, watching in horror as the enemy robot gave close chase to Voltron.

"Nelly!" Nonette exclaimed, the Lancelot spinning through the air to Cornelia's side. She seemed to be thinking the same thing, as both women attempted to follow, hoping to assist somehow.

Keyword 'attempted.'

A loud popping sound drew everyone's eyes to the coffin-like structure again, and this time, another machine, this one much smaller than the first, burst out, spinning vigorously and charging right towards the Gawain and the Lancelot.

Cornelia cursed as she barely maneuvered the Knightmare away from what she realized were spinning blades from the new weapon. While it was still much smaller than the Ro-Beast, it was at least three times bigger than even the Gawain.

"What is-"

"ALL HAIL BRITANNIA!" a voice Cornelia hadn't heard for months echoed from within the object. It appeared to be a black sphere with five large red spikes along its side, two on its upper sides, two on its lower sides, and one at the very bottom. There also, much to the women's horror, a human, or at least, it looked human, hooked into it as his face was shown from the open cockpit.

"What is this? Black Knights?! Dissenters?!" the cyborg asked eagerly, madness saturated in his tone, "Oh what luck, what fate! What fortune for me!"

"Who the hell is…?" Nonette questioned before Guilford and Darlton finally caught up to the two.

"It can't be…!" Guilford gasped, dread curling in his gut.

"Jeremiah Gottwald! Is that you in there?!" Darlton cried out.

"Gottwald?" David questioned, he and other Glaston Knights flying next to them, "You mean the one involved with the Orange thing?"

That word, the O-word, seemed to trigger something in the man's head as he gasped and began to shake in rage before finally clasping his hands together, "I beseech you…! I'm begging you, please die! Die at the hands of the Siegfried!"

The spikes on the machine suddenly began to spin rapidly as Jeremiah was lowered back inside, reminiscing a top, before it charged towards Cornelia and her guard.

"Scatter!" she ordered as the Siegfried machine cut through them, hitting Edgar's Knightmare in the process.

"No! Father-!" he cried out as the Seishin cut in two.

"Edgar!" Darlton shouted, staring in horror as the Knightmare's remains dropped to the Earth.

"Darlton, focus or we'll all die as well!" Nonette focused, the Lancelot's blade shrieking against the Seigfried's spinning spikes.

"DIE!" Jeremiah howled, driving the Lancelot back further, the Gawain and remainder of the Glaston knights racing after them.

"Dammit!" Kallen cursed as the Ro-Beast dodged yet another blast from Aka. Barely any of Voltron's attacks were landing, and when they did, it barely seemed to make a dent. And it was likely only due to the Voltron Lions' superior armor and unique alloy that they hadn't been torn apart as scrap metal already.

Lelouch grunted as they blocked yet another assault from the monster's claws. He couldn't understand why it was so hard to defeat this  Ro-Beast. This wasn't like with Myzak, where it was their first time fighting one of these creations, so how come none of their attacks were working?!

'We don't have time for this…' Lelouch thought. They had to take out that flagship. The sooner they did, the more time they could buy before possible Galran reinforcements arrived. But if Voltron couldn't get there, he could only think of one other squad that could do it.

"Tohdoh! Tohdoh, do you read me?" Lelouch exclaimed, hoping he didn't sound too desperate on his end.

"I read you, Zero. What is it?" came the reply.

Mentally sighing, Lelouch continued, "My team is still preoccupied with this monster! Your group will have to go after the flagship! Destroy it, and the battle will turn in our favor once more!"

  "Understood. Squad enroute now!"

Down on the battlefield, Lelouch could barely see six large Seishins making a beeline towards the Galra's flagship, no doubt Tohdoh, Sayoko in the Guren, and the rest of the Holy Swords.

"Thank you, Tohdoh…" he muttered under his breath, "Good luck…"

"Commander! We have six confirmed enemies, making a direct course towards us."

"Blow them out of the sky," Corza ordered calmly before scoffing, "Did they really think a direct attack wouldn't go unnoticed by us?"

"Sir! These machines are different! Whoever's piloting them are maneuvering them much more expertly!"

Corza raised an intrigued eyebrow. It took skill for any enemies to get close to a flagship like this. Normally, they would be shot down before they could get within ten yards of the vessel.

"Pull an image up," she requested with narrowed eyes.

In front of her, a camera of the carnage outside blinked into focus. Her eyebrows rose more at these machines' unique designs. The captain below wasn't wrong that they were being piloted differently, not to mention they looked different, especially the sleek red one with the silver claw.

"Hmm, a challenge it seems?" she queried before grinning, "Excellent! Concentrate fire on those ships. Blast them away!"

"Yes, commander!" the captain saluted as he and the droids typed into their stations.

Several more compartments opened up on the surface of the flagship, revealing cannons and other torrents, all aimed at the incoming enemies. To their surprise, though, in a coordinated counterattack, involving several fancy, advanced looking spins and maneuvers, slicing through several cannons with their swords and the red one's class blowing up many more with its silver claw.

Corza felt an emotion she hadn't in a while. Frustration. Sure, she got annoyed with stubborn enemies at times, but frustration was an emotion she had only last experienced back in her barricade days, apprenticing under Warlord Ranvag himself. But, she had learned to squash that weakness and push forward. Now she was one of his most trusted comrades and commanders of the empire, one whom he personally recommended to lead this attack. And she would not fail him. Not now!

"Sir!" the captain addressed again, "The large black one appears to be leading the group."

Finally, some intel she could work with! "Concentrate fire on that vessel! The others will be easy pickings with their cornerstone dead!"

"Vrepit sa!" the captain exclaimed, slamming a fist into the control pad.

"Target the engines next!" Tohdoh ordered, "Get this ship to the ground!"

"Yes, sir!" the five other Knightmares all replied in near unison. Then Chiba's voice cried out a split second later.

  "Colonel, look out!"

Almost like a combined attack, three cannons they had yet to destroy all fired at Tohdoh's Seishin at once. He managed to dodge two shots, but the third managed to hit one of his Knightmare's jets.

  "Colonel Tohdoh!"

  "Sir!"

"I'm alright!" Tohdoh barked as he struggled to regain control, "Focus on the engines!"

"And you, Colonel? " Senba queried hesitantly.

Tohdoh glared at the windows that he assumed likely led to the bridge of the ship, "I'm cutting off the head."

Without another word, Tohdoh zeroed in on the windows and made a beeline for them, slamming the Knightmare's rockets as hard as possible.

With a ripping crash, the Seishin barrelled through the bridge's window. The droids and the captain at the front didn't have time to take cover as the machine slammed into them, crushing them dead against the opposite wall. Anything that remained of the bridge's controls was nothing but sparking wires and scattered infinitesimal crystals.

With a snap, Tohdoh's own cockpit hatch popped open, and miraculously, minus a small cut above his left eye, he was unhurt, his armor and suit having protected him from most of the impact.

He glanced around and surveyed the damage, eyes narrowing on the Galra captain's corpse against the far wall, purple blood splattered from the impact, golden eyes wide and staring.

It was only the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end that warned him to draw his katana, just in time to catch the edge of another blade that had been aiming for his head. He grunted from the force of the blow, and his eyes narrowed at the surviving Galra towering above him.

"Gutsy move, pest," the Galran, female from her voice, commented, teeth bared and Tohdoh honestly couldn't tell if she was grinning or sneering, "I've seen very few in the universe brave enough to charge headfirst into the Snarflax den! Even fewer to survive it!"

Tohdoh said nothing, simply shoving back against his opponent's blade enough for him to roll out of the way and create some distance between them.

He held his katana steadily at the ready.

The Galra's lips curled, eyes shining with excitement. She had heard about the Champion's feats in the rings of Nilog. She had never been able to witness a match herself, but from what she'd seen on recorded footage, though inexperienced, the boy had spirit. Had they kept him longer, he would have made a formidable warrior.

But this human in front of her. This one was already a warrior. She could tell from the way he stood, the way his eyes took everything in, all while keeping an eye on her at the same time, the steady grip of the skinny blade in his hands. There was barely any tremble in the handle.

This was a human that was ready to fight her until one or the other remained standing.

Well, she licked her lips, this would be fun.

Voltron swerved to the right as they barely avoided the Ro-Beast's claws once more. Due to how few attacks were landing, they focused on taking the fight more into Earth's atmosphere, away from the main battle. The fewer people who got in the way, the better.

"What the heck is going on?!" Milly shouted, "It's like it knows what moves we'll make before  we  do!"

"Maybe it can see the future or something?" Rai suggested.

"Maybe its main function is learning? Like that one robot from that cartoon? The one with the family of superheroes?" Rivalz queried as they ducked under another clawed frontal assault.

"This isn't a movie, Rivalz!" Kallen exclaimed.

"What, it's a suggestion!" he yelped back.

Shirley remained mostly silent through, a feeling of dread climbing up her gut and to her throat. She struggled not to vomit from the sheer stress of the situation alone. Every instinct in her being told her that she  knew  who this Ro-Beast was, or at least who it was based on.

"Mao…" Shirley whispered abruptly.

"What-Shirley, what did you say?!" Suzaku exclaimed, horror in his voice.

"I…  Guys, I think that's Mao!" Shirley finally blurts out, fearful tears in her eyes.

"What?!" Rai exclaimed, voicing everyone's thoughts, and Voltron faltered, their left side being side-swiped by the claws.

"Hold on, that can't be possible! Mao's dead… right?" Milly asked though she sounded unsure as well.

Narrowing her eyes, Kallen's eye flashed with Geass, and she glared at the Ro-Beast still trying to slice Voltron to ribbons.

She nearly choked from shocked terror at the dreadfully familiar energy she picked up from in the Ro-Beast.

"I don't believe it... she's right! That  IS  Mao!" Kallen confirmed, barely keeping the tremor out of her voice.

This time, the shock of the team distracted them enough for Mao's Ro-Beast to charge and grab them by the shoulders, flipping them over and throwing them hard through the sky, flipping around multiple times as they went.

Shirley and Rivalz eventually managed to regain control of the leg rockets, stopping their loopty loops, only for Rai to have to block another swipe as Mao had followed close behind.

"Okay, how many times do we have to kill this bastard?!" Kallen screamed, slamming Aka's controls, trying to shoot Mao out. Once again, though, he blocked the attack.

"I don't get it!" Rivalz shouted, "How is this even possible?! Shirley got him! We saw her shoot him!"

Had it been under normal circumstances, Rivalz would have received a hard head bonk from Milly for his insensitivity, but it was only because everyone was thinking the exact same thing that silenced any reprimand.

"Haggar must have done something! Remember, she turned Myzak into that first Ro-Beast we fought!" Rai said, "The other two must have been similar. She's somehow creating monsters from living things!"

"There's something else too," Suzaku said, "Remember when Mao broke into the Castleship that one time? His Geass was different, and he kept saying that someone had given him a gift or something, but he wouldn't tell us who. My guess is that Haggar's the one that gave Mao that Black Geass we saw, enhanced it and twisted it somehow. I mean, we all suspected that she gave Zarkon his, right?"

"And if she could enhance his Geass before, she's likely done so again with this monster as well," Lelouch deduced with narrowed eyes.

"So, what does that mean then?" Milly asked as Voltron spun out of the way in the nick of time to avoid a collision, but it didn't stop one of Mao's claws from scraping against Voltron's armored chest.

"Best guess? Mao's original Geass allowed him to read the minds and even subconsciousness of people if he concentrated on a particular target," Lelouch explained, "If Haggar managed to improve upon that, then it's likely he's not just reading minds now. Instead, since Voltron is all of our subconscious thoughts as one, he can likely read not only our minds but that subconscious as well. It's how he's been able to avoid most of our attacks up until now! He can analyze, predict and counter every move we throw at him!"

"Okay, but he can only read our minds if we're in close enough range, right?" Rivalz reminded, "So if we move out of it and shoot him from far away, we should get him, right?"

"Even if that's the case, Rivalz, you think Mao's going to even give us the chance to try that anyway?!" Kallen snapped in frustration.

"Still, he's right. The range is likely larger and stronger, but it may be our only chance!" Suzaku argued.

The question was, how?

Allura felt her blood run cold as she and Coran listened in terrified silence to the reveal of this latest Ro-Beast's identity. When she heard Mao's name, a haunting feeling of terror ran through the princess's body. Mao was likely the only other person in the universe that genuinely scared her, so to hear that he was alive, and as that monster, it made her, she was ashamed to admit, selfishly glad that she wasn't one of the ones fighting him in Voltron.

The shrill sound of alarms blaring on the bridge shook Allura from her stupor. She heard Coran gasp in confusion as the tone of the alarms indicated that there was an intruder in the castle. But that shouldn't be possible. All of the castle's shields were still up, despite suffering severe damage from the surrounding Galra forces. So how on Earth had someone…?

"Princess! Here!" Coran exclaimed, pulling up a screen, "He's heading for the cryo-bay!"

Allura narrowed her eyes at the unfamiliar figure. It didn't look like a Galra or one of Haggar's druid servants, so who was that?

But then hear thoughts screeched to a halt when she finally processed what Coran said.

The intruder was heading for the cryo-bay. Where Nunnally was!

"Coran, take charge of the bridge!" she ordered as she spun around and raced from the room, "I'll handle this myself!"

Euphemia stared blankly down at the small bowl of broth that had been placed in her lap. She felt completely, utterly lost, her mind still racing through the events that happened just over twenty-four Earth hours prior. The terror of hearing her Father's announcement, then feeling absolute agony in her chest before everything just snapped to black. She vaguely remembered Suzaku's cry of anguish and her sister screaming her name. Then when she next became coherent, she felt cold, then the feeling of falling before warm, if slightly scratchy blankets encompassed her naked body.

Those same blankets were still draped around her shoulders, with only a thin nightgown Nunnally had given her to cover her modesty. Her dress apparently had disintegrated while she had been asleep in that strange pod, but she honestly couldn't care less about that right now.

"Euphie…?" Nunnally asked hesitantly. Almost on instinct, Euphemia's eyes glanced up, meeting the soft lavender of her younger sister's. "You know what happened down there… it wasn't your fault, okay? You know that, right?"

Logically, Euphemia knew Nunnally was right, but she couldn't help the crushing guilt that still stirred in her.

"I can hear your thoughts from here," C.C. said from the other end of the room, "But last I checked, Princess, you weren't the one that gave the order to slaughter the Japanese attending the zone. I highly doubt even they will blame you for this. But you won't find out if you're too weak even to stand."

Euphie cringed a little, still a little put off by C.C.'s blunt tone, but she could sense the concern in it as well. Turning back to the bowl, she finally took a tentative sip. She didn't know what it was, but the taste was alright.

"Well… this is a surprise to see you alive, Euphemia."

She heard Nunnally gasp and practically the blur that was C.C. as she moved to stand between them and whoever had entered the room. Whoever it was, they sounded young, but… something felt off about his tone that made the hairs on Euphemia's neck stand on end.

"What…?! How are you standing, Nunnally?!" the person (boy?) demanded furiously, "The sight I can understand a little. Charles was always too soft using his Geass on anyone related to that  woman, but your legs should have had no hope of recovery!"

"V.V., how did you get here?!" C.C. demanded, and Nunnally gasped, staring at the small boy at the door.

V.V.?  That was her uncle? The one Lelouch had told her about?

"Oh, what's this?" V.V. raised an amused eyebrow, glancing between the two princesses and C.C., a hand in his pocket, "C.C., are you actually caring about someone for once? I must say, this is a first even for you."

"I won't let you touch them, Victor!" C.C. exclaimed, reaching behind her back for her gun.

"Too slow," V.V. smirked as he pulled a tiny object from his pocket and flicked it across the room.

C.C. grunted as the small marble-like object struck her in the forehead, then gasped before collapsing to the floor, eyes wide and body twitching like she was having a fit before going completely still.

"C.C.!" Nunnally cried in horror, Euphemia gasping as well, her hands flying to her mouth. The younger princess then glared up at her uncle, "What did you do?!"

"I don't have to tell you," V.V. sneered, then pulling out a gun of his own and pointing it at the two girls. "It's not like you'll live long enough to find out anyway. True, Charles wanted you alive, Nunnally, but I think ending you would be more effective. Your brother has thrown enough wrenches into our plans already, destroying years of work that we have to practically start all over again. But if his reason for fighting at all is long gone, well that should solve the problem itself."

Before V.V. could continue his gloating, the gun was suddenly smacked from his hand from behind, and the next thing he knew, V.V. found himself slammed against a wall, an arm pressed tightly to his throat.

"Who are you? How did you get in my castle?!" Allura demanded, her battle staff clutched tightly in her hands while pinning V.V. against the wall with the other, applying far more force than necessary with her Altean strength.

"Allura!" Nunnally gasped from behind, still kneeling by C.C.'s prone form.

"Nunnally, are you alright? Euphemia, I'm pleased to see you are recovered," Allura addressed the two with a sigh of relief.

"What's this…?" V.V. choked out a laugh, "More 'friends' come to save you, Nunnally, like always?"

"You be silent!" Allura growled, pushing her arm in further and the immortal choked. "Nunnally, do you know him?"

"Well… sort of? I heard brother and C.C. talk about him. He's our uncle, V.V." Nunnally answered shakily.

"What… uncle?" Euphemia gasped, staring at the small 'boy' in horrified confusion.

Allura, on the other hand, felt her temper flare as she turned back with a growl to the man, "The same V.V. of that vile man who started this attack?"

V.V. gagged out a laugh, "You call Charles vile? I'm not the filthy alien trying to destroy all our hard work! If you just stayed up in space and out of our way, we wouldn't be in this mess!"

"I'm not the one that sold his own people to a universal tyrant!" Allura spat back, "And to think, Voltron was willing to offer a truce even when you clearly didn't deserve one!"

"Oh, go back to your planet and cry your eyes out there!" V.V. barked through clenched teeth before smiling sadistically, "Oh wait, that's right. You don't have a planet anymore, do you? Zarkon blew it up with the rest of your people."

Allura's eyes went wide before becoming slits, "Don't you  dare  talk about Altea that way!"

V.V.'s hand suddenly seized Allura's wrist as he grinned madly. Much like C.C., Allura stiffened before screaming, losing her grip on V.V. and clutching her head. All around her, flames consumed Altea's surface. Galra crafts rained from the sky. Queen Melanor's head stood mounted on a pike as the royal palace was bathed in blood.

V.V. was too entranced with glee at Allura's pain that he didn't notice Nunnally lunge at him before he was already on the ground.

Allura gasped once more before her eyes rolled back to her head, and she fell back, Euphemia only able to just catch her before she could hit the ground.

Now V.V. was staring into a pair of eyes he had only seen in one other, and his blood boiled as Nunnally desperately attempted to pin him down.

"Damn you, Marianne! Damn you and your bitch of a spawn!" he screamed, rage driving his arms as they threw Nunnally off, "They don't deserve what Charles has planned for them! None of them do! They… they don't even deserve to live!"

Eyes mad with hatred, V.V. reached for the gun he dropped, aiming it Nunnally. He'd kill her first, then deal with the other three…

  *BANG*

Nunnally flinched, covering her face at the sound, but then slowly lowered them, eyes widening in horror at the bullet hole in the middle of V.V.'s head.

With a gurgle, the immortal collapsed, revealing his assailant at the door behind him, their own gun still smoking in their hands.

"Chigusa?!" Nunnally gasped in shock as Euphemia helped a shaky Allura to her feet, still clutching her head with one hand as she eyed the woman warily.

"Not quite," she responded in a clipped tone, "My name is Villetta Nu, and I'm a knight of Britannia."

At this declaration, Allura scrambled to regain her footing to defend Nunnally and Euphemia once more, as well as C.C., who still laid unconscious on the floor. But to their surprise, Villetta holstered her gun and dropped to one knee, head bowed.

"I'm on your side."

Meanwhile, the sky lit up red as Cornelia fired the Gawain's hydron cannons at the Siegfried, Nonette doing the same with the Lancelot's VARIS rifle. However, thanks to Haggar's constant experiments and modifications, Jeremiah's cyborg body could control the machine with ease while directly connected to the systems. The speed the Siegfried spun seemed to make almost a barrier, the spikes able to repel or block any Knightmare attack easily. Not to mention that he wasn't letting up on his own charge. With the demise of Edgar, the remaining Glaston Knights made avoiding the Seigfried's blades their top priority, but that also prevented them from attacking back as well.

"If I had doubts about this being alien tech before, I don't know!" David stated.

"I highly doubt even his Majesty's top scientists could have made something destructive without third-party assistance," Darlton commented as well.

"How can we bring down something like this?! It could completely wipe out the rest of our troops!" Guilford gasped.

Cornelia grit her teeth as he was right. This machine had a formidable offense, its spikes, and a nearly perfect defense. But she knew that all weapons had some weak point somewhere. The problem was whether or not they could hold it off long enough to figure it out.

The answer came when Lloyd, Cecile, and Rakshata contacted the Lancelot.

"Lady Enneagram, do you read us?"  Cecile exclaimed anxiously.

"I hear you. What is it?" Nonette said, tone demanding as she flipped over the Seigfried once more.

  "We've analyzed the structure of that machine on the castle's computers. And… I think we may know how you can defeat it."

Nonette nearly stopped midair in shock, "Well, what is it?"

"It's actually a rather simple flaw. So simple and obvious that many would overlook it at first glance,"  Lloyd explained cryptically.

"I don't have time for your riddles, Asplund!" Nonette growled, "Just tell me already!"

"What Pudding Boy is meaning to say,"  Rakshata interrupted before Lloyd could continue (this resulted in an exaggerated pout onboard the ship), "Is that the Seigfried's spikes can be stopped and held in place, that will easily disable its pesky defense… There is one small problem, though…"

"One of us, likely in a suicidal maneuver, will have to fly head-on into the machine and hold the spikes down manually," Nonette realized.

"Precisely, hence my previous statement, before  someone  interrupted me, about it being so obvious, yet one that most won't so much as consider," Lloyd added.

"Nelly, did you get all of that?" Nonette asked through her comm.

"I heard everything, Nonette," Cornelia responded, "I'll do it. This Knightmare is large enough to likely survive the impact-"

"Princess, no!" Guilford shouted almost instinctively, "I-Your people still need you! They need you to lead them!"

"And do you simply expect me to pointlessly sacrifice my own men, Guilford?!" Cornelia fired back, "Chawla and Asplund said so themselves; anyone else who tries would be suicidal!"

"...Not everyone," Nonette muttered before slamming down on the Lancelot's controls, barrelling towards the Siegfried.

"Nonette!" Cornelia screamed.

"Lady Enneagram!" Claude shouted.

The remainder of the squad could only watch in horror as the Lancelot slammed head-on into the middle of the Siegfried, its arms and legs spread eagle against the spikes, the Lancelot's shields fizzling at the strain of taking most of the damage.

Nonette grunted in pain as small electric sparks erupted from the systems, warning lights flashing wildly on the screens in front.

"What?!" Jeremiah exclaimed, also frozen in brief surprise at such a move.

"Nelly! Do it now!" Nonette screamed, using the last of the Lancelot's energy filter to twist around so the Seigfried faced the Gawain.

"Nonette…!" Cornelia gasped, horrified that her friend was about to commit this act.

"Just do it! I'll be fine!" Nonette shouted again, "But you have to do it now! You won't get another chance!"

Feeling tears in her eyes, Cornelia screamed as she slammed down on the hadron cannon's controls.

"What?! You little-"

Jeremiah never finished his sentence as the hadron cannons hit the Seigfried head on. The Seigrfried groaned and its outer shell cracked before it finally exploded, detaching from the Lancelot as it spiraled to the ground, crashing into the debris below.

Nonette exhaled in relief, a small stream of blood dripping from her nose. The Lancelot's energy filter lasted just long enough to block most of the Gawain's hadron cannon attack.

Unfortunately, with the energy depleted, the Lancelot could no longer remain airborne either and the white Knightmare soon followed the Seigfried to the ground, landing roughly by a demolished building.

"Nonette!" Cornelia screamed desperately, "Nonette, answer me, dammit!"

"...I'm okay, Nelly," she panted through the comm, "Sorry, I won't be much help anymore…"

Cornelia breathed a sigh of relief that at least her childhood friend was alive. She hadn't killed her.

"Just stay there for now, Nonette," Cornelia ordered, "We'll send someone to retrieve you soon!"

Tohdoh grunted as he was kicked back down the hall, catching himself as he backflipped to his feet, catching the edges of her double blades with his katana. So far, any Galra or sentries that they encountered were ordered away by Corza, always barking that he was her opponent, and if they held any respect for her, they would leave them be. He could see why she was so confident. She held the clear advantage in strength, so Tohdoh knew he had to be smart about where he landed his blows.

Throughout most of their duel, she had never lost the bloodthirsty, predatory grin on her face. The only time she lost it was when a lower-ranked Galra attempted to assist, trying to shoot Tohdoh down one of the halls. She had immediately beheaded him, calling him a disgrace. From that expression alone, Tohdoh saw the type of creature she was. She was one that took joy in beating down her opponents, took pleasure in hearing their screams of agony.

As a samurai, bound by the honor of his people and ancestors, nothing disgusted Tohdoh more. And if he had to die to put this monster down, so be it.

With a roar, he pushed the blades away, swinging the katana viciously at her midsection, but she expertly blocked it, making a swing of her own at his head, which he ducked under before using his left foot to kick one sword out of her hand, and it clattered down the hall.

Corza just laughed before whipping out a dagger she kept hidden in her armor. Tohdoh barely managed to jump back but still felt a sting across his cheek where the blade barely sliced his face. The Galran commander took advantage of his surprise to send a series of jabs towards Tohdoh, all of which he managed to dodge or block.

After taking one of the hits against his wrist, the armor of his suit absorbing the blow, he launched himself into the air, spinning midair before slicing downward. Corza grunted as the blow propelled her forward, but Tohdoh's eyes widened as her other sword managed to block the blow as well.

Tohdoh quickly used this moment to gain a little distance between the two, katana once more poised at the ready.

Corza slowly turned to face him again.

"Well, well, I'll admit you've got spirit, human," she smirked, "I may even spare you. You'd draw quite the crowd in the rings. Just surrender now, and I'll be sure you're taken good care of."

"Sorry, not interested," he replied in a clipped tone.

"Hmph, pity," she sighed in faux-sorrow before the grin returned, "But I wasn't exactly asking. I do enjoy my prey more when I have to draw the squealing out."

With that, their duel continued. Corza continued to push Tohdoh down the hall until they came to a cargo bay, several Galra fighters still stationary but ready to launch.

At one point, Corza managed to sweep Tohdoh's feet out from under him, pinning him down, foot firmly on his sternum.

"Concede, or die," she hissed, pressing down hard. The colonel felt his ribs cracking from the force, and he cried out in pain.

But the pain soon ceased when the ship suddenly shuddered and Corza's foot shifted off his chest. Despite the pain from what he knew were cracked and possibly broken ribs, he couldn't help the smirk that spread across his own face.

Outside the ship, the Guren shot away as the Radiant Surger's energy destroyed the last of the rear engines. The flagship was officially without any mobility and almost immediately began to lose altitude.

"The colonel's still inside!" Asahina exclaimed, "We need to help him!"

"I'm on it!" Chiba shouted, making a beeline for the open cargo bay, praying the colonel managed to make it there.

Tohdoh didn't waste the precious moment the distraction bought him. Without hesitation, he leaped back to his feet and plunged his katana into Corza's chest, the Galra still off-balanced from the attack outside, losing grip of her weapons. The commander only gasped as her eyes widened in disbelief but then shrieked in fury, her hand striking out. Tohdoh gasped in pain as Corza's sharp claws swiped across his left eye. Clutching it with one hand, Tohdoh stumbled backward, his katana still firmly in his other grip.

With barely a gurgle, Corza collapsed to her knees and sunk forward, falling forward, her face hitting the floor, dead. Only then did Tohdoh finally sag, catching himself on his katana, following to one knee in exhaustion.

"Colonel!" Chiba cried out, her Knightmare skidding to a stop in the bay, the ship still vibrating as it fell apart in its descent.

"Chiba…" Tohdoh whispered as she hauled one of his arms over her shoulder.

"Come on, this battle's not over yet!" she said, pulling him to his feet.

"Right…" he sighed but gratefully climbed into the Seishin with his subordinate. The Knightmare streaked out of the flagship only ticks before it crashed to the Earth.

No one missed the spectacle of the flagship's destruction. First, the engines went up in flames, and the fires quickly spread to the rest of the vessel. As Tohdoh's team flew away, their job done, the flagship began to nosedive before practically imploding as it hit the ground below.

Roars of victory could be heard from all units of the Black Knight's alliance. The Britannian-Galra alliance faltered as the rebels began to swarm in.

"Push them back!" Ohgi shouted from the ground, "Victory is nearly ours!"

"Yeah! Let's squash these guys!" Tamaki howled, firing a missile from his Knightmare at a group of scattered Britannian troops, "This is our planet! Not yours, you slimeballs!"

While the ground forces were experiencing the first taste of victory, Voltron's struggle was another story. The information of knowing it was Mao did little to help their situation. No matter what kind of attacks they threw at the Ro-Beast, he was able to either counter, block, or dodge every single one. Even when they attempted long-range attacks, they either weren't far enough, or the attacks were large enough that Mao could see them coming even without reading their thoughts. They had even briefly disbanded Voltron, thinking they could confuse Mao with separate thoughts instead of one, but Mao just started attacking them one by one. Suzaku, in particular, took some heavy hits when Yoru suddenly froze mid-flight again. The Paladins were barely able to rejoin once more after that disaster.

"This isn't working…" Lelouch hissed,  '...and I don't know what else to try!'  went unsaid.

"We can't just give up!" Rivalz shouted, "There's-there's got to be  something!"

Shirley suddenly gasped, Zinnia's purr breaking through the haze of the battle.

"What…?" she whispered.

"Shirley?!" Lelouch exclaimed, grunting as Voltron ducked another attack once more.

"Lelouch… we need to get away from Mao! As far away as we possibly can!"

"But haven't we been trying that already?" Kallen asked.

"Just trust me! I have a plan, or Zinnia does anyway!" the Orange Paladin insisted.

"...Alright, I'll trust you," Lelouch relented, "Rivalz, help her!"

"Um, right!" the Blue Paladin stuttered before slamming down on the rockets with Shirley.

Voltron suddenly shot off, leaving the battle at high speed, one that Mao couldn't keep up with.

"Paladins! Where are you going?!" Coran gasped, alarmed by the sudden change in direction.

"Honestly, Coran, we're not sure ourselves!" Milly admitted, "But Shirley said she had an idea to take out Mao! You're just going to have to trust us, here!"

"...Very well,"  Coran conceded,  "Good luck, Paladins, be careful!"

By the time Voltron stopped, they had made it fairly far out to sea, still high above Earth's surface.

"Okay, I think we're far enough!" Shirley said.

"It's certainly farther than any other distance we've tried," Rai reported, "According to C.C., Mao's original range was about five hundred meters. We're well over a thousand kilometers away now. We should be well out of range."

"Okay… okay," Shirley gasped before swallowing, "...I've got this…"

Though her heart was still hammering in her chest, Shirley took several deep breaths and, following Zinnia's directions, plugged her Bayard into its port. In the process of the bow appearing once more, Shirley's Geass appeared in her eye.

The others felt it just moments after Shirley did. Whatever was happening, whatever this new connection was that the Orange Lion and its Paladin were forging, they could feel it pulsing within the entire bond, with the two of them at the epicenter.

"Target… locked on," Shirley said calmly as Voltron drew the arrow back. Though it was not visible by the naked eye, Voltron's systems zeroed in on a far-off figure whose head was spinning frantically in every direction, having lost their target somewhere out in the sea.

'Before, I was just a normal girl, who was ignorant of everything that's been happening to this world…' Shirley thought as the arrow was pulled taut at its longest length, '...All the suffering... All the pain that so many people feel. And not just this world... but others as well. But I'm not going to cry anymore. I swear that I will protect all of you, even my friends. I know who I am... My name is Shirley Fenette, Paladin of the Orange Lion of Voltron! My aim is true! This time, I won't hesitate!'

Voltron set the arrow free.

Like a shooting star, the arrow soared across the ocean, too fast and too powerful that Mao didn't realize what was coming until it had struck deep into his chest. The Galran crystal helping to power the machine nearly shattered inside, and the Ro-Beast shrieked as its circuits shorted out and started to go haywire, limbs creaking and twisting into impossible angles.

"Go! Finish him off while he's down!" Shirley shouted.

"Suzaku, sword!" Lelouch ordered.

"Right!" the Purple Paladin exclaimed, his Bayard meeting the port once again.

With a unanimous battle cry, the Voltron Paladins raced back towards the Ro-Beast, sword poised to stab it head on.

Mao barely had time to look up, robotic eyes widening in shock before the sword met its target, piercing the same spot as the arrow and pushing back further, returning to the settlement.

Then, once on land again, with a twist of the blade, Voltron cut upward, severing the Ro-Beast's shoulder from the rest of the body. But that wasn't enough. Raising the sword over his head again, Voltron swung downward, slicing Mao cleanly in two.

The Ro-Beast's power flickered one final time before exploding, lighting up the evening sky and the battlefield.

"Yes!" Milly screamed.

"You're history!" Rai exclaimed with a triumphant grin.

"And this time, stay dead, asshole!" Kallen shouted.

"Shirley! That was awesome!" Rivalz cried, grinning madly from Polaris.

"That was definitely nuts, but it worked," Suzaku commented.

"Shirley… thank you…" Lelouch said, sagging in his seat from relief and fatigue.

Shirley just smiled, not really answering anyone, but the soothing purr Zinnia sent her way spoke all the volumes she needed. Yes, she did good. This was where she belonged, after all.

"...Coran, Cornelia, Ohgi, Tohdoh, battle report!" Lelouch finally ordered after a moment of silence.

One by one, each battle commander appeared on the screen. They all looked exhausted from the fight, a fight that they had very nearly one.

"The flagship and the fleet's commander are neutralized, Zero,"  Tohdoh reported first, Chiba next to him,  "The remaining Galra troops are scrambling to regroup. We can likely wipe out or capture the remaining ones with ease."

"That second monster that came out of that vessel is also destroyed,"  Cornelia stated,  "Nonette and the Lancelot are down, but she's alive."

"Most of Britannia's ground forces are retreating too. Without air cover from their Galra buddies, they're losing ground fast,"  Ohgi reported with a confident smile.

"Yes, according to the castle's scans, most of the remaining Galra fighters are retreating!"  Coran exclaimed,  "It seems… it seems we've won Paladins!"

The very second Coran finished speaking, Voltron suddenly shuddered, freezing in midair. A sinister purple aura washed over the juggernaut, and a malevolent presence suddenly flooded the bond, nearly choking the Paladins with fear and panic.

Lelouch especially felt the crushing weight, gasping as he hunched over like something heavy had suddenly been thrust upon his back.

"Paladins!" they heard Coran gasp.

"Lelouch!"  Cornelia cried,  "Lelouch, what's wrong?!"

"What's going on with you guys?!" Ohgi exclaimed, eyes wide.

Several more voices joined the others, Nonette, Tohdoh, Guilford, and many others calling out, confused at what was happening to Voltron and afraid for the Paladins' sake.

"What…?" Rivalz gasped out.

"Something's… tearing us apart!" Rai realized.

"It's like what happened at…!" Shirley gasped, eyes widening.

"At the Galra base…" Kallen finished with a whisper, her mind drawing the same conclusion, and terror coursed down her spine.

"Then that means…" Suzaku bit out, eyes trailing to the sky, "Lelouch!"

Lelouch's eyes also were drawn to the sky, his blood running cold and body petrified as the familiarity of this presence finally became clear. Zen's own cries of terror only confirmed it further as a large, colossus shape practically materialized above the battlefield.

"Zarkon…!"

As the Galra's HQ exited its jump to hover above the surface of the planet, Zarkon reached out towards the ancient bond that he knew was there and would always be there no matter how his enemies tried to separate them. The druids' magic coursed through his being as his black Geass drilled black holes into his eyes.

The Black Lion would not get away this time.

"...What?!" Ohgi whispered from the ground as the massive alien ship, over a hundred times  bigger than the flagship they had originally destroyed, slowly descended through the clouds. Everything and everyone on the battlefield froze, Black Knights and Britannian defectors alike.

"...This isn't happening, this isn't happening, this is  not happening…" Tamaki chanted, nearly hysterical as he felt tears form in his eyes from the terror in his chest.

Then, much to their further horror, with screams of agony, the Voltron burst apart, the Lions all blasting away from one another, the Black Lion falling limp and landing with a heavy crash to the ground.

"LELOUCH!" both Kallen and Cornelia shouted in unison.

No response came as Lelouch lay unconscious in Zen's cockpit, the sheer force of Zarkon's twisted Geass too much for him to bear.

Then, like an angry cloud of hornets, hundreds of thousands of Galra fighters swarmed out of the Galra ship, descending on the weakened Voltron forces below.

"Damn!" Kallen screamed, regaining control of Aka and righting herself in the air again. "All Black Knights! Retreat! Get back to the castle  now!"

  "What?! But Kallen-"

"Now, Ohgi!" Kallen barked desperately, "Zarkon is  here! We can't fight him, he'll wipe us out!"

"Kallen, what about Lelouch?!" Rivalz exclaimed in utter panic.

The red streak of the Guren passing by, followed by the Gawain's black form, answered that question.

"He'll be fine. His sis and Sayoko have got him!" Kallen said, "Quick, we need to lay down covering fire!"

"Sh-she's right! Come on!" Shirley shouted, already turning Zinnia towards a group of defectors struggling to get through a Galran brigade.

Zarkon's face remained impassive as he stepped off his fortress's platform, descending towards the Earth, determined to end this once and for all.

The Black Lion would be his once again.

Landing on the planet's surface, it wasn't hard to find the Black Lion. It had landed in a clear area of the battlefield, lying on its side, eyes dark and unresponsive. It was very likely that her new 'Paladin' was still inside. He highly doubted the boy had fled, even if it would have spared him.

He had barely taken a step, though, when a surge of red energy ran across his path.

Narrowing his eyes, he looked up only to see the large black bi-pedal machine, along with the red one with the silver arm and several other smaller gray ones surrounding him.

"Not one step further!" a feminine voice ordered from the large black one, two large cannons aimed at him from its back. Similar weapons are also leveled at him from the others.

Zarkon nearly scoffed. Nothing more than another pesky obstacle.

"Stand aside."

The red machine's arm tensed back, "Never…" another woman's voice practically spat.

The two parties stood still for several moments.

Zarkon then drew his Bayard, a large violet blade materialized.

"Then die."

In the blink of an eye, Zarkon suddenly flickered from being in front of them to standing crouched behind Darlton's Seishin.

"Wha-" the knight couldn't even finish the word before the Knightmare split in two and exploded.

"Sir Darlton!" Guilford shouted before Zarkon turned around almost casually, Bayard poised to strike once again.

Unlike before, with only a single flagship and the original invading fleet to fight, the massive flood of reinforcements that rained down on the city began picking off the Black Knight forces little by little. Even with the remaining Paladins providing cover, many valiant men and women fell, shot down by the relentless Galra surge.

With Milly on her trail, Kallen headed immediately to Ohgi's location, knowing most of his troops consisted of ground fighters. Milly quickly shot a series of flash bombs at the Galra fighters above them, giving the girls barely enough time for Ohgi and his surviving squads to load onto the two Lions, leaving any other weapons behind.

Rivalz and Shirley found themselves in similar situations, the sky lighting up with explosions of fire as the two pushed the fighters away from their allies in the sky and on the ground.

Rai made a beeline for Nonette's downed Lancelot, the knight only having the strength to crawl from the wreckage and lay next to it, barely remaining conscious. Dried blood still stained her nose, and her left arm was bent at an awkward angle, but she was alive.

Suzaku felt his blood run cold as he saw a massive squadron heading straight for Tohdoh's team, and he propelled Yoru quickly to intercept.

"Out of the way!" he roared, blasting into the swarm, destroying twenty of them alone with a single blast. Yoru then leaped back, her jaw opening wide, her blackhole suction pulling against several more.

"Sensei! Go!" he shouted, straining from the effort of the attack.

Despite most of the fighters getting caught in the suction, several more still fought their way around or out of it, making a head charge towards the group.

"There's still too many!" Asahina gasped, his Seishin getting battered by a volley of lasers as he sliced through two with his sword.

"Stay focused!" Tohdoh ordered with Chiba firing her gun at several fighters.

Suzaku growled, quickly summoning the Lion's jawblade, and while the fighters were disoriented, sliced through several more.

Unfortunately, despite these efforts, more simply seemed to keep coming. Like a hydra when its head was severed, more simply replaced the ship that was downed.

And one soldier knew it was not time for his commanding officer to die just yet.

"Colonel…" Urabe said solemnly as he calmly typed a code into the Seishin's keypad, "It's been an honor to fight beside you. And Suzaku… be a good Paladin."

"What?" Suzaku's eyes widened, a vague image of a knightmare in this very position meeting its end, along with the pilot inside, "Urabe,  no!"

The Seishin charged forward, completely blowing a path through the fighters, before exploding in an inferno in the center of the swarm.

Suzaku looked on in horror, the reality of what he saw sinking in, the guilt of not being able to save someone again resurfacing.

"Suzaku!" Senba shouted, shaking him back to reality, "We got to go!"

"Urabe's sacrifice will be mourned, Suzaku," Tohdoh said, though only Chiba saw how stiff the Colonel's face became, "but it will mean nothing if we all die…"

"...Right," the Purple Paladin sighed before following after the three remaining Seishins, covering the rest of their retreat to the white castle in the sky.

David's scream of agony as his Knightmare was sliced apart filled the castle's launch bay, Rakshata, Lloyd, and Cecile watching in shocked horror as Zarkon picked off the Knightmares surrounding the Black Lion one after the other.

"He's not even in a Knightmare…" Cecile trembled, watching the footage through the Gawain's already battered systems, "And he's tearing them apart."

"At this point, it looks as though he's only toying with them," Rakshata pursed her lips, but her eyes were shaking, and she clutched her pipe tight enough her hands were turning white.

"What… What kind of monster are we even dealing with?!" Lloyd exclaimed, hands gripping his head, panicking for the first time in… he wasn't sure the last time he felt like this, and even with their own alien tech, there was likely little to nothing they could do to help in some way.

Slowly, Lelouch came back into focus as his eyes blinked open. Confused and body aching, he sat up looking around… only to stop cold at the scene he saw through his Lion's screen window.

Zarkon's Bayard, in its whip form, had grabbed a Seishin by its arm and swung it through the air before slamming it hard into a pile of debris several feet away, the Knightmare erupting into flames moments later.

"No…" he gasped, panic seizing his heart and hands shaking, "What... What are you...? Get away... You can't stop him... Just run…"

He only watched helplessly, though, as Zarkon drove his Bayard into the final Seishin's abdomen, the machine's form electrifying before the back end detached and flew away, just as this Knightmare also exploded. Zarkon then turned his attention to the larger Knightmares. The Guren's silver arm was gone, the Galra having ripped it off earlier in battle, but Zarkon shifted the Bayard to a cannon and fired at the red Knightmare, blasting it backward. Then with barely a shift in footing, changed it back into a spear and stabbed backward, catching the Gawain in the middle before swiping out, effectively cutting the Knightmare in two.

With the machines no longer threats, the Galran emperor turned his attention back to the Lion, approaching slowly like he was taking a stroll in a park.

Before Lelouch could move to try and rouse Zen again, another battle cry interrupted him. He gasped in horror as Sayoko herself charged Zarkon, leaping in front of him, kunai lashing.

Zarkon stepped back slightly but otherwise seemed unfazed. Bayard a sword again, he swung back, locking weapons with the kunoichi, but his strength easily one out, disarming her and kicking her in the air. Then the Bayard became a whip, wrapping around Sayoko's form before the ninja slammed with a shattering crash against the Earth.

"SAYOKO!" Lelouch screamed, tears in his eyes as his mother figure gasped against the ground, groaning as her hand flew to her stomach, blood quickly pooling from a slice across it.

Zarkon attempted to walk towards Zen again when a bullet suddenly bounced off the back of his armor. It didn't hurt him, but it annoyed him enough to turn to the culprit.

"Get the hell away from my brother!" Cornelia roared, her sword-rifle raised, and aimed to fire again.

Zarkon turned toward her, saying nothing as he just glared, almost daring her to challenge him.

Cornelia refused to back down and emptied the rest of her bullets against Zarkon's armor. Upon realizing she was out, she charged at him, sword held up to swing down.

She didn't see Bayard swing until her right armor was sent flying away.

Cornelia collapsed to the ground, shrieking in agony and clutching her stump as blood hemorrhaged from the severed appendage.

"NO!" Lelouch shouted, horror racing through his heart.

Cornelia grunted, shoulder still burning as Zarkon's foot smashed into her cheek.

"Pathetic…" he murmured, digging his heel against the princess's head.

Cornelia could do nothing but stare up at the monster… no, the demon that was bearing down on her, and there was nothing she could do about it. The last time she had felt so helpless was… Was when Empress Marianne had perished, and Lelouch and Nunnally were banished by their father's cruel decree.

'He tore apart our entire unit... with just a single weapon... even ripped apart Voltron... all on his own...! This... this... demon... he's not just powerful... he  IS  power...!' Cornelia thought as tears trickled down her face as a crushing sense of shame settled in her chest, 'Lelouch... is this really who you've been fighting? And I haven't done a damn thing to help you... You and your friends... have had to fight this monster all on your own... I'm so sorry…'

Lelouch, meanwhile, could only watch on, terrified and enraged all at once as he watched Zarkon torment his sister. Why? Why was he just watching? Was that all the good he could do? Why did everything seem to fall apart in his hands even when he came so close to setting things right? His body shook, unable to so much as stand, petrified of this villain and the terror he brought in his wake.

  No…

Lelouch gasped as a spark of warmth ignited in his chest, spreading outward, enveloping him like a blanket.

You are not helpless…  We  are not helpless. It is true we are no match when separate, but we are together. Let us stand, my Paladin, as one...

"What insect are you, to deny what is rightfully mine?" Zarkon intoned, pressing Cornelia's head further into the dirt, "Your nation of Britannia speaks of evolution, yet you can't even begin to understand such a concept. I have transcended the limits of space and even time, and I will do so as I shall bend this universe to my will. A bug like you can't stop me."

Zarkon however blinked in surprise as Cornelia's remaining hand grabbed hold of his ankle and tried, though in vain, to shove him off of her. Her eyes, though still red with tears, glared fiery daggers at Zarkon.

"Go... to hell... you damn monster...!" Cornelia growled, "That's my brother in there... For his sake... I'll keep fighting... I'll break myself if I have to...! Even if there's nothing left of me... I won't let you one inch further...! I'll destroy myself before I let you lay so much as a finger on him!"

Zarkon narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to reply, only to hear something approaching rapidly. Turning around, he saw Lelouch, a purple knife pointed forward, practically flying toward Zarkon.

"GET AWAY FROM MY SISTER!" Lelouch roared, his Geass shining in not one but both of his eyes. The blade in his hand suddenly fizzled, growing in length as red energy traveled down the hilt, extending it into a long, curved sword.

Zarkon's surprised stupor cost him, as the next thing he registered was a sharp jab of pain piercing his side. The conqueror roared in agony as the blade was wrenched out, and the boy ducked under him to grab hold of his sister, gathering her in his arms.

"I'm sorry…" Lelouch whispered, pulling Cornelia's remaining arm over his shoulder. Looking up, he barely spotted an injured but alive Guilford picking Sayoko up in his own arms and making brief eye-contact, headed straight for Zen's form, still lying in the dirt, but eyes bright and clearly conscious.

Zarkon snarled as he watched his enemy scurry back into the Black Lion. Once all four were safely inside, the Black Lion roared in defiance at him before leaping into the sky.

The former Paladin raised his Bayard to shoot the Lion down again, only to be pelted from all sides by the remaining Lions, none of them giving him room to make a clear shot at the Black Lion.

"Keep him pinned down!" Kallen ordered, "Don't give a chance to fight back!"

"Paladins!"  Coran exclaimed, face appearing on the screen,  "All the survivors are on board! Get out of there now!"

Without another word, the Lions all turned and zoomed back into the sky, retreating to the castle as it disappeared into the clouds once more.

Zarkon said nothing as he glared at the spot that the Lions vanished into. Once again, they had escaped, but unlike last time, his forces gained much more than what they lost this time.

"Sire…" Haggar murmured, approaching her recovering emperor from behind, as her ship landed, "I sense they are still close. You can easily track them, and our troops can wipe them out now."

"There's no need for that," Zarkon addressed.

"Sire?" Haggar queried in surprise.

"Voltron will return soon," Zarkon clarified, "We have their planet hostage now. We have nothing but time until they come for it again. And one way or another, Voltron will fall to us then…"

From aboard the craft, Charles glared daggers into the backs of the two aliens on the ground. These two thought they were foolish enough to think that? While it was true their presence would make things… difficult, their actions would be of little consequence once their plan was complete.

'Soon, Marianne…' Charles thought, 'Soon, our dream will come to fruition, and this madness will end. No force in the universe will be strong enough to stop it.'

[lilacmoon83]

Dreaming Out Loud

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 128: Seizing Power

"Mommy! Daddy!" little Alexander called, as they arrived home at their castle. Snow sprinted to her little boy and swept him into her arms.

"Oh I've missed you so much, baby…" she gushed, as she kissed his little head.

"Missed you too, Mommy," Xander said, as David kissed his head too.

"Daddy!" he called, as he took his son, while his mother brought the baby to them.

"Oh...there's my little angel," he cooed, as Snow took her and they both cuddled her.

"Oh...Mommy is never leaving either of you ever again," she gushed, as she and David soaked them up. They smiled, as they saw Emma doing the same with Neal, Henry, and Tallie.

"We're so relieved you're all home safe," Serafina said, as she and Ruth hugged them tightly.

"Us too...but we might be safe yet," he said.

"What's going on?" Robert asked.

"In short...Zelena's back and she stole all the magic in the realms with the Olympian crystal," Snow answered.

"Then...she's all powerful?" Ruth asked fearfully.

"I'm afraid so...and Emma is the only other person with any magic right now," David replied.

"But...if Zelena stole the magic, how is that possible?" Serafina asked.

"I'm not really sure I understand it either," David said, as he looked at Rumple.

"He has a point. I mean, I get that Emma is a product of their true love, but so was the potion you used to originally bring magic to Storybrooke," Regina added.

"That was Storybrooke, a place without magic. This is the United Realms. Misthaven's inherent magic cannot be stolen," Rumple explained.

"So...because Emma was born with her magic, it can't be taken?" Snow asked.

"Short of cursing her or finding a spell to nullify it...no. But that will be exactly what Zelena seeks to do now," he replied.

"Then there's Promethean fire. She can't take it, but it won't do us much good if these two can't utilize it to its full potential," Van Helsing chimed in.

"Then Merlin must be freed. It's time to visit Camelot," Persephone said.

"Arthur is never going to agree to free him...this will get messy," Hades replied.

"Maybe...but we try to do this diplomatically first. With Zelena having so much power, Arthur will have to choose an allegiance. We will make our case that siding with us will work out far better than siding with Zelena," Persephone said.

"He'll be too threatened by us if we take the lead though," Hades reminded.

"Then we will," David said. Snow nodded.

"We'll send a messenger and request a meeting. We'll even concede to do so in Camelot," she agreed. They nodded and joined hands, as they took the children to the nursery. They would send a messenger and then be forced to wait for a response. They only hoped Arthur made a wise decision.

~*~

Oz

"Everything seems in order today. A few minor disputes, but they were easily settled," Dorothy reported, as she finished her daily rounds in Emerald City. Glinda was very proud of her. She had gone from a scared, reluctant girl that just wanted to go back to her home in the Land Without Magic, to a valiant peacekeeper that had realized her true home was in Oz. She only hoped that Dorothy was ready for the coming conflict that she was sensing on the horizon.

"I'm afraid all is not well," Glinda feared, as she turned away from the window.

"What is it?" Dorothy asked.

"The magic...it's gone," she replied, as she held up her wand and it refused her command.

"No magic? I got word from MIsthaven that Circe has been permanently dealt with. If she's gone, she couldn't have stolen the magic," Dorothy reasoned.

"She couldn't have...but I could," an unwelcome voice said, as they turned to the doorway.

"Zelena…" Dorothy hissed, as she swept into the room with another, homely looking woman that they did not recognize, behind her.

"You're dead…" Glinda refuted.

"It didn't stick…" she said, as they heard the guards rushing in about that time.

"Stop witch!" one of them called, but she waved her hand and several of them shrieked, as they became flying monkeys.

"If the rest of you don't want to join your Simian friends...then you'll pledge your allegiance to me," Zelena said, as they hesitated, but also did not advance on her out of fear.

"Glinda rules the Emerald City now!" Dorothy refuted. Zelena smirked and with a wave of her hand, encased Glinda in a bubble, much like one of her own. She shooed the bubble away and out into the sky, as it carried her away from Oz.

"Not anymore," Zelena said, as the guards surrounded Dorothy, having chosen not to cross the new Queen.

"Take her to the dungeon," Zelena ordered. But thinking quickly, Dorothy clicked the heels of her ruby slippers together three times and disappeared. Zelena growled.

"Find her!" she ordered, as they hurried out and she sent her flying monkeys off in search as well.

"What now?" Liz asked.

"The Charmings are the real problem...the whole family is. We need allies," Zelena replied.

"Who will side with us against Snow White and Persephone?" Liz inquired. Zelena smirked and went to the window.

"Perhaps more Kingdoms than you think," she said vaguely.

~*~

Camelot

Arthur slammed yet another useless book shut and tossed it aside.

"There's nothing here!" he shouted, as he brushed more books and ancient scrolls away.

"We have no other choice...we must force King David and his daughter to reforge Excalibur for us," he said gravely.

"But how do we force them? Persephone will never allow it," Guinevere reminded, just as Gawain came rushing in.

"Sire...something has happened," the Knight said, as Arthur and Guinevere followed him down to the Throne room.

"Sire...this just arrived from Misthaven," Tristan added, as he handed the envelope to him.

"What is it?" Guinevere asked.

"A summons from King David and Queen Snow. They are requesting to come here for an audience first thing in the morning," Arthur responded.

"It's Merlin they want...why else would they want to come here," Gawain spat in annoyance.

"There's more, My King…" Tristan said, as he ushered a munchkin into the Throne room. He looked quite frightened and could barely look at them.

"A munchkin? In Camelot?" Arthur asked in confusion. It was not like the munchkins to venture away from Oz.

"Tell him," Tristan snapped at the frightened small person.

"Magic...it's gone. The Wicked Witch is back and she stole it! She banished Glinda and has taken over Emerald City," he reported.

"Magic is gone? Are you certain?" Arthur asked with great interest.

"Y...yes...except the Savior still has it," he answered.

"And Queen Persephone?" Guinevere asked.

"N...no, she is powerless now," the munchkin said.

"And the Promethean fire?" Gawain questioned.

"King David and the Savior still possess the fire too. It's the only thing that is holding the Wicked Witch back," the munchkin retorted.

"Why are you here?" Arthur asked.

"I...I was scared. I fled Oz when the witch took over," he said shamefully.

"We will offer you refuge in Camelot for this information," Guinevere decided and he bowed.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," he said, as he scurried away.

"Then I was right...Merlin is what they want," Gawain said.

"Perhaps...we will hear their case anyhow," Arthur decided.

"Sire?" Tristan questioned in horror.

"The Savior may have her magic and the fire, but without Persephone and Hades' magic interfering, not to mention the Dark One being powerless...this may be exactly the leverage we need," Arthur said.

"They want something from us...and it will not come without a price," Guinevere said in agreement.

"Exactly, my love...we may yet get what we need," he agreed, as he looked to Gawain.

"Please deliver my invitation to King David and his lovely Queen personally and tell them that I look forward to hosting them tomorrow morning," Arthur stated. Gawain looked uncertain, but left to do his King's bidding. He hoped that he knew what he was doing.

~*~

The munchkin stumbled through the woods and cried out in fright, as Zelena appeared before him.

"Did you deliver the information, you little twit?" she snapped.

"Y...yes," he stammered. She smirked.

"Good...you get to live then," she said, as he breathed a sigh of relief. She waved her hand and turned him into a flying monkey.

"I said you get to live...just not as what," she said evilly, as she looked at the Camelot palace in the distance. Arthur had taken the bait nicely, just as she knew he would. She'd play him like a fiddle and destroy her enemies in one fell swoop. Still, she would need more allies on her side and it was time to move onto the next Kingdom.

Oz was hers already and Camelot was already compromised. It would be the perfect battleground. Now, she would move onto the rest. They would join her or she would do away with their rulers and assimilate them accordingly. She may have failed to change her past, but she would ensure she ruled the future.

~*~

Snow was practically swooning, as she listened to her husband sing to the baby that night. They had successfully gotten Alexander to settle down and go to sleep, with no less than three stories, that is and then they had proceeded to the nursery with the baby to do the same. They had both missed tucking in their little ones the last couple nights and were content to have no repeat adventures that would take them away overnight from their babies for a while now.

While his singing had successfully lulled their sweet baby girl to sleep, it was definitely doing the opposite for her.

"I think she's finally asleep," he whispered.

"You always work magic with her," she agreed, as she slid her arms around his waist and nuzzled close to him. He smiled down at her and wrapped her in his arms.

"Someone is frisky," he purred, as she bit her bottom lip.

"Well, I can't help it. Your singing makes me the opposite of sleepy...if you get my drift," she purred back, as she nuzzled his nose with hers and he responded by kissing her tenderly.

"I think I do," he said, as he opened the adjoining door that connected their bed chambers to the nursery and led her through it. He closed the door and their lips met again, as he divested her of her robe, which fell to a puddle at her feet.

"Ugh...what they say is true. You two are positively nauseating," a voice said and Snow yelped in surprise, as Gawain stood on their balcony. David pulled his sword from its holder by the bed and leveled at the intruder. She hid herself behind her husband, for she was wearing only a tiny little satin nightie beneath her robe.

"How the hell did you get up here?" he demanded to know, as he stood in front of his wife.

"I am a Knight of the Roundtable...I have my ways," he goaded smugly.

"And there's no magical protections or you would have never made it through the gates," Snow said knowingly, as she poked her head out from behind her husband.

"Get out…" David growled through clenched teeth.

"I won't be here long. The Gods know I can't stomach the sight of you two sucking each other's faces off, though I have to admit...you do have impeccable taste in females," he leered, as he looked at Snow.

"You have three seconds to state your business before I rip your eyes out and make sure you leave in pieces," David growled.

"Relax...Your Majesty. I come in peace and simply to deliver a message from my King. He has accepted your request and will grant you an audience first thing in the morning," Gawain stated.

"Fine...then leave now," David demanded, as he held his sword at him and the Knight smirked.

"Always a pleasure, Your Majesties," he said sarcastically, as he climbed his way down their palace wall and David sighed, as he sheathed his sword.

"You know, I can see him getting passed some of our other Knights, but not Lancelot," Snow said.

"Lancelot is off tonight and believe me, they'll be getting an earful in the morning," David replied, as he took her in his arms.

"Well...don't be too hard on them. Gawain is a Knight of the Roundtable, after all," she said, as she kissed his cheek.

"I don't take kindly to even Knights of the Roundtable invading our privacy, especially when they spoil my intent to make love to my beautiful, amazing wife," he replied.

"Oh, I think it's going to take more than one smug Knight to spoil the mood between us," she whispered in his ear. He smirked.

"You're right," he agreed, as he swept her into his arms and carried her toward the bed.

"So...you like my singing?" he asked playfully, as he lay her down on the bed and hovered over her.

"Mmm...very much so, my love," she replied, as he caressed her beautiful face and her breathing hitched, as he kissed his way down her throat. Her nightgown was gone, as he undressed her with skillful ease and his own clothes were pulled away. Passion lit her every nerve, as his hands roamed and he sank between her parted legs. His passionate gaze locked with hers, as their breathing came in ragged, impassioned gasps now.

"You...are so beautiful…" he uttered in awe of her and he could still make her blush after all these years.

"Let's see if I can...make you sing…" he whispered to her, with a roguish smirk that made her almost lose control.

"You...you always do…" she managed to say, before he was making love to her. There were no words after that, but plenty of singing…

~*~

Deimos enjoyed a good stiff drink at the bar of the successful brothel that he owned in Cronus' Kingdom, which was adjacent to the Southern Isles. His eyes never strayed far from the young, dark haired girl dancing on stage and he smirked, as he intended to enjoy her later with a private showing.

"Lord Cronus has requested your presence, Lord Deimos," one of his bouncer's informed him and he finished his drink.

"At this hour?" he questioned.

"He said it is quite urgent. Apparently, something of grave concern has occurred," the man responded. He sighed and felt a bit of disappointment. The dark haired girl on stage was a real beauty and fit all his specific tastes.

"Fine...make sure that one finds her way to my chambers. I'll return soon and expect her to be ready for me," he said, as he made his way out of the establishment and made the short drive to the castle.

"You summoned me, Your Majesty?" he said, as he bowed to him. Under Cronus, he enjoyed a good life with enough power to satisfy most, but he had always known he was on a short leash with the tyrannical God. Cronus himself had his wings clipped a bit too, being that Persephone was the supreme Goddess. But Deimos had become a patient man and knew a day would come where he could seize power once again. And this time, he would not stop. Cronus had used his magic to clip his urge to feast on the blood of mortals, but someday, he knew would be able to satiate that craving again and rule as he was meant to. Then...he would have Persephone's daughter as well.

"The magic...it's gone," Cronus stated.

"Gone?" Deimos questioned, as he watched his King fail to summon magic in his palm.

"Then Circe...she has stolen it again?" Deimos asked.

"That is what I thought, but Phobos just returned with Intel. It appears that Zelena has returned and she has the Olympian crystal," Cronus answered.

"Then the witch has all the magic," Deimos deduced.

"Not quite," Cronus corrected.

"What do you mean?" he questioned with scrutiny.

"The Savior...her magic could not be taken and neither could the Promethean fire. She and her father still possess the flame," he responded. Deimos clenched his teeth. Charming and his spawn...still in his path to Snow White, as usual.

"So Persephone and Hades...are powerless now?" Deimos questioned.

"Yes...and Phobos said they are already gathering allies against the witch. I'm sure one of their messengers will be here soon to barter with us," Cronus stated.

"That would be wasted errand. They will never trust us and allying with them will bring us no benefit," Deimos refuted.

"Perhaps...but Zelena is no better. I will bow to no witch," Cronus stated.

"You cannot seriously be considering siding with the Kingdom of Misthaven," Deimos said in outrage.

"What choice do we have? With Persephone, we can at least maintain our status. But Zelena...she will just assimilate us under her stifling rule," Cronus reasoned.

"Be that as it may...I refuse to work with those bloody heroes," Deimos refused.

"You will do as I command. I am your King," he reminded. Deimos fumed and then bowed to him with barely contained, seething rage.

"Of course...forgive me, my King," he said, as Cronus turned his back and gazed out the window into the twilight.

"No, as much as I do not fancy it...we must join the effort to dethrone Zelena and regain our power," Cronus said and then his breath seized, as he choked in pain. He looked down to find a blade protruding from his chest.

"I'm afraid that with magic gone...that makes you weak and useless, my King," Deimos hissed, as he extracted his blade. Cronus fell to the floor, as he struggled for air. He coughed and blood violently sputtered from his mouth. A pool of red slowly leaked from his body, soon covered the floor around him. He continued to sputter painfully and blood spattered all over his face, as he struggled to breathe. Deimos smirked evilly down upon him.

"Back to the Underworld for you...for good this time," Deimos said, as the King gurgled and exhaled his final breath.

"Such a mess…" Zelena chided, as she appeared and he turned to the redheaded witch.

"The messier the better…" Deimos replied, as he watched her move into the room.

"You...you killed the great Saturn…" Liz said in horror.

"Who is this?" Deimos asked.

"Apparently, there are some mortals out there in the Land Without Magic that admire Cronus...or Saturn as they like to call him. She's leader of this cult and responsible for helping in my revival," Zelena explained.

"Cronus had gone weak and soft over the years. Without magic, he was useless and was willing to side with the heroes against you, Queen Zelena," Deimos stated. She smirked.

"Then you did me a favor and I do need a fearsome General," she mused.

"Then you can count on me to carry out your horrors...however, Cronus clipped some of my more fearsome abilities," Deimos stated. Zelena smirked and created a ball of energy.

"Stare into the moonlight...and let the monster be reborn," she said, as the energy filled him up and his eyes glowed red once again. His muscles bulked slightly more and his incisors grew longer.

"Thank you...my Queen," he said, as he bowed deeply to her.

"The Southern Isles is a weakened state, due to the new leadership and they're intent on sucking up to Persephone and Misthaven. Prove your worth," Zelena ordered. He smirked.

"They will be swearing allegiance to you by morning," Deimos promised, as he left to wage war on the first Kingdom that would fall to them. It was good to be in power again…

~*~

Persephone stood on the balcony of her palace on Mount Olympus. She looked out over the realms, her eyes often resting on Misthaven where her precious family slept. But sleep was impossible for her tonight, for she knew Zelena intended to bring nothing but pain and death to all the realms. Oz had already fallen. Glinda and Dorothy were missing and she knew dawn would likely bring the fall of more. They were meeting with Arthur in Camelot in the morning and with or without his blessing, they had to awaken Merlin. It was the only chance they had, but she hated every bit of it.

"There's no keeping them out of this, as much as I hate it too," Hades said, as he approached her from behind.

"I know...Snow, David, and Emma...they may be the ones that will have to save us all. But it wasn't supposed to be this way when I took Zeus' power!" she lamented.

"It's supposed to be me fighting these battles...not Snow, Charming, and Emma," she fretted.

"Not even we can thwart destiny, my love…" he reminded and she knew he was right.

"Love will win...you've taught me that," Hades said.

"What if it's not enough?" Persephone asked. He smiled and caressed her cheek.

"It will be...and we will be there to make sure they win," he assured, as he hugged her close.

~*~

When Guinevere happened to wake up, an hour or so before dawn, she wasn't surprised to see that her husband was not in bed with her. This wasn't an uncommon occurrence and she couldn't help the stab of sadness in her heart. She knew Arthur loved her, but not more so than his quest for power; his quest to reforge Excalibur so no one could challenge him for his Throne.

She was not surprised to find him in the lab that he had given to Claude Frollo to use in his experiments and research.

"You've been sequestered for days...you must have something," Arthur insisted.

"Reforging Excalibur requires Promethean fire and there is no way around that. Now that magic is gone though...we may be able to utilize these much easier," Frollo said, as he presented him with a pair of glowing chains.

"And what exactly are these?" Arthur questioned.

"Promethean chains. The originals were destroyed and busted to smithereens when the trigger was set off in the mines. But I managed to find remnants of the chains and reforged them. They can capture and control the Savior...and her father," Frollo said.

"Well...that certainly is something. It seems you are worth your salt, after all, Judge Frollo," Arthur complimented.

"Then I trust you will hold up your end of our bargain?" Frollo questioned.

"When I have reforged Excalibur...you'll get what you want," Arthur responded.

"That is easier now that magic is gone, but the witch has the power to sweep us all away," Frollo warned.

"Then our next objective will be to seize the crystal from her. A Sorcerer of your knowledge must know of ways to circumvent her power," he surmised. Frollo smirked.

"As a matter of fact...I just might," he replied. Guinevere had no idea what he had planned, but perhaps once her husband's quest was complete...they could finally be happy. But something in the back of her mind told her that Arthur's quest could never be satiated.

~*~

Snow tossed and turned in her sleep. Just hours ago, she had been in pure bliss, as her husband made passionate love to her. But now, the events of the last few days and the uncertainty of what was to come now haunted her dreams, until they had her waking screaming in her husband's arms.

"Snow...please my darling...wake up…" he pleaded, as she suffered a night terror. He held her face still in his hands and pressed his lips to hers, knowing only that might break through. Snow's eyes went wide and she melted into him, before dissolving into sobs against his bare chest.

"Shh...it was just a dream, my love…" he whispered to her in a soothing manner. But she shook her head and looked up at him through tear filled eyes.

"What if it wasn't? It felt so real…" she cried, as he caressed her face.

"Arthur...we can't trust him. He had you and Emma...in chains! Like the chains my mother used to bind Deimos!" she said, as she gasped.

"Charming...what if he has the Promethean chains?" she feared.

"They were destroyed in the mines...remember?" he reminded.

"And we thought my step-father destroyed the Olympian crystal. What if someone has the chains too? I can't lose you and Emma…" she fretted.

"Shh...you are not going to lose me. I refused to give you up when Ravenna tried to take you away and I won't let Arthur separate us either," he promised, as she started to calm.

"My heart is yours, my darling...that's why I gave you half to bring you back, because it's already yours," he said and she kissed him passionately at that.

"If he or anyone tries to take you...I'll kill them," she said fiercely, as she kissed him hard and deeply again.

"Snow…" he breathed, as she straddled him.

"I need you…" she said desperately.

"I'm yours…" he promised and she smirked sultrily, as he lay beneath her.

"And I'm going to make you sing this time, my love…" she promised, as passion consumed them again...

[cowandcalf]

H50 9.02 - Steve’s Oath

It’s this one scene that won’t let me rest. It’s always there, at the back of my head, poking, nudging my thoughts. After I’ve watched the episode last Friday I was all in to write another one-shot with Steve’s thoughts, but it would have eaten up too much time and because I’m busy with other writing on my to-do list I’ll go with a post on Tumblr. I try to explain what keeps my mind busy after I watched this scene with Steve and Greer in the interrogation room for a second and a third time.

During all the episodes of the last eight seasons, I’ve never experienced this special feeling that has been stirred to life watching this one scene, watching Steve and his reaction when Greer talks to him about her reasons why she has chosen another way, to regroup with the enemy. It’s nothing new to Steve to deal with people who have turned their back on their belief and their oath but this talk shifted something in Steve’s soul.

In a former episode Steve talked about his country, his America he as given the oath to serve and to protect. He was referring to it as she/her - “You swore to protect her and defend her.” Something like that. It’s always a moving moment to listen to Steve when he talks about his country he would give his life to protect. And America isn’t just a country to Steve, no, it’s a purpose to live for. To serve is in his bones, it’s something ancient that buzzes hidden but rhythmically in Steve’s cells and pulses through his whole body. It’s in his genes. (I dare to dramatically emphasize it like that.)

I’ve spent a lot of time to ponder about Steve and his dedication to being a servant for his mother country. And I try to catch this spark, this notion which is there but so very difficult to form into words. I never will fully understand what goads Steve to freely hand over his heart and his soul and serve as a SEAL. I’m not good at Military stuff and all the Navy and Naval intelligence information, ranks and what comes with all the education. But I’m good at reading people and I’m good with emotions. I try to make my explanation work.

I dare to say that nobody, not even Danny, nobody but Steve’s SEAL buddies know and understand what moves Steve when it comes to America and his duty to protect her. Freddie Heart was in tune with the same dedication. Steve’s motivation could be compared to the knight of the blackboard serving their king, King Arthur.

The oath Steve has sworn stays above everything else - and I mean everything. This oath has this touch of divinity and I also dare to say, that the attitude, this inner need, which forces Steve to make such a choice is the glue that holds Steve’s soul together. (And I don’t know if Steve had had the choice to be a SEAL without being sent away if he had made that choice and if he had followed that path - a whole other thread to talk about.) It’s in his genes to bow to such a task in the way he does.

To be a servant needs humbleness, it needs a pureness of a kind that’s very rare. There is loyalty and honestly and never ever is there a rear exit and a chance to change the mind. It’s not about what they choose, this is about what they are - what Steve is.

I’ve read the Artus Trilogy by Gillian Bradshaw (one of the best ever) and there is Gawain (he reminds me of Steve) - and he stole my heart. His story moved me beyond words and the love he has for his king is so big, that I won’t find the right words to describe what drives him closer and closer to King Arthur, with this single aim, this intense wish: to be a knight for his king, to present him his life and to fight for him, to die for him. I’ve never found more accurate words which are able to describe this dedication, to paint the undying love with words, to let me feel this everlasting and divine love, this fearless strength, this stamina to stand proud for their king, to fight till the last drop of blood, to defend their king with every inch of their soul. In the end, Gawain he’s one of King Arthur’s knights, his closest and his most dreaded knight, who goes berserk in battle, feeling no pain, no fear, being inhumanly strong - to fight for his King. Just like Steve and the way he fights for his country and for his people.

Steve’s belief in his country, in his oath, in his choice is set in stone, immovable and everlasting. He doesn't have seconds thoughts. He has never had them.

Betrayal of trust, to sell out this said oath, this belief in America is unforgivable for Steve. Btw, if I had to describe America in a mystique way I’d say: she is this female, ageless entity, old and beautiful and precious, a wise lady who truly owns Steve’s heart (like Galadriel from LOTR). Once someone has crossed this line, there’s never a way back. Steve suffers every loss of his fellow comrade.

And Greer was such a comrade and even a special one because he had feelings for her. This group of unique members speaking a language of their own, trusting each other with their lives, blindly and unconditionally. This group is small - and it gets smaller and smaller. Steve doesn’t have new comrades. The tightest bond has been build during his training and education days, during becoming a SEAL and being sent on missions. The group members get diminished and each and everyone who is lost to betrayal destroys something in Steve’s soul.

Greer’s betrayal destroys a part of Steve. It came out of the blue, unexpected - detonating like a meteorite in his heart. I’m sure he would have sworn under oath that she’s an honest soul. I guess the shock to misinterpret her character was as big as a shock as to find out she works together with the Chinese. Steve tries to fight all the fallout. And in the end, there is disgust, antipathy, and a deep-rooted aversion. This chasm isn’t to pass ever again. Steve won’t let this person back into his inner world. It’s over - forever.

But Greer does not only cut deep into Steve’s soul by turning her back on everything his life is built upon, there is something else she causes - it’s way crueler (from my point of view): she’s planted a seed of doubt in Steve’s soul when she said: “You think you’re such a good guy, Steve. But you’ve done things. Bad things. You can tell yourself they were in the name of doing some greater good. But were they, really?”

I have to admit that Greer has a point with what she's saying. And Steve doesn't want to hear it. His doubts flair up, being there, hovering in the air for a fraction of a second and I can almost see him squash them down where they can never arise again. I get the impression that Steve has a movie, racing through his mind, with all the terrible things he'd done in the name of this greater good, in the name to defend America, his Lady. I got the impression that Steve watches all the action, all his past (or at least a part of it) from a different angle for the first time in life. And maybe it's also because he has suffered so many losses and so many betrayals: from his mother, from Catherine and now from Greer. He desperately needs to understand, what the hell is wrong!?

Freddie got killed in action and cut a hole in Steve's heart. So far, he has faced every tragedy but somehow Greer and her speech get to him. And I wouldn't wonder if, for the shortest amount of time, there was an understanding forming in Steve’s mind why she did it. Or let me say, he wishes to understand because everything else kills him and chokes him and he can't grasp the logic, the hurt, and the failed trust.

I can't get rid of the image of the "Last Man Standing" when the world went to shit and crumbles to dust and there's only Steve trying to find kindred spirits to not feel so alone anymore.

Something bad has happened in Marrakesh and Steve hates to be reminded and his question "You threatening me?" tells me about this bad shit, that something epic went down and it went south and somehow Steve was able to sit on that lid of that pandora box and kept everything hidden and stored away – until now.

Have you ever witnessed this odd, strangely unfamiliar expression on Steve's face? He seems torn as if the memories itself deform his face, and suddenly this onslaught of memories are attacking him from different angles. And the worst is to know that his ally has just turned his back on him, being a fraud and a terrible disappointment. Two heavy blows to his heart. Again, Steve stands alone, bereft of this invisible strength that always keeps him upright. It's part of his backbone, this belief in his country and in his oath and in his comrades.

I can't get rid of the feeling that Steve starts to think about his actions and if it was the right thing to do. I guess I could go on for another hour, but the most important fact from this scene is the way Steve's inner world crashes down. Losing Greer to the enemy has a severe effect on how Steve sees himself - I guess? At least I've got the impression that he's struggled a moment, stumbled and caught himself. He walks tall again, but there's this heaviness now wafting around his chest. Something is off, and it worries him deeply.

And Danny – Danny can't help him, because Danny doesn't belong to this world. The Navy is like a separate realm in Steve's mind and in his life. He only can share openly with comrades who have sworn the same oath.

I'm interested what others think about this scene. Have I exaggerated? Have I interpreted too much into that scene? And after I've written that long essay, I'm still convinced that this scene was so painful for Steve because again, it has caused a major shift in his tectonic plates within his soul.

[terriblelifechoices]

Hi! Just letting you know that I've been having a rough month and reading+re-reading your fics (and comment fics! love the ones about the Graves kiddies/families and Graves' team in the cell lmao) has been a great stress reliever for me :) I really want to leave longer comments on your chapters but I think I'll only be able to do that when stuff gets better lol. For the time being, thank you for the lovely writings!

Hey, I’m really sorry you’re having a rough month.  I’m glad reading the fic and comment fics helps relieve a little stress, though.  Please don’t worry about comments!  I hope things get better for you soon.

And just in case it helps, I thought maybe you’d enjoy more comment fic just for you.  ;)

… This might actually need to be its own series of comment fic.  The Graves Brood vs. Ilvermorny

Ilvermorny, Massachusetts, October 1944

“Do you know,” Professor Jauncey mused, “I am starting to think I should just create a Graves-specific form letter to send to your parents.”  He sounded more wistful than anything else, as though the streamlined precision of a form letter would protect him from further Graves sibling antics.

Gawain was not sure why the headmaster thought a form letter would protect him, but he sympathized with the impulse.

Gawain loved his older siblings, but he was not blind to their faults.  Individually, Galahad and Olwen could be a lot to handle.  Together, they were terrifying.

“Sorry, sir,” he said, and meant it.  He had no idea how to make Galahad and Olwen stop being Galahad and Olwen, and he was pretty sure the headmaster didn’t either.  Gawain knew better than to try, but the headmaster didn’t seem to have figured that out yet.

Jauncey sighed.  “I really think you mean that,” he said.

“Well,” Gawain said.  “I’m not sorry about disrupting Professor Thompson’s class.”

The headmaster sighed again.  “Of course you’re not.  What are you sorry about, then?”

“Galahad and Olwen.”

Jauncey’s puzzled look went a bit strained around the edges.  A lot of people had that reaction to Galahad and Olwen, especially once they met them.  “What do Galahad and Olwen have to do with your disrupting Professor Thompson’s class?”

“Nothing sir,” said Gawain.  “I’m just sorry they’ve …” He made a vague hand gesture designed to convey Galahad and Olwen’s essential Galahad-and-Olwen-ness.  “Y’know.  Set a precedent for how the Graves family behaves.”

Jauncey looked down his nose at Gawain.  He had rather a lot of nose to look down, so it was a pretty impressive look.  “A precedent that you seem determined to follow,” he observed.

Gawain felt that was unfair, and said so.  “I am not!  I’m not crazy,” he hastened to assure the headmaster.  Galahad and Olwen were determined to follow Dad and Gwen and a lot of the Aunties and Uncles into MACUSA.  Gawain was pretty sure MACUSA and the rest of wizarding America would be safer for it, but he also thought that anyone who wanted to be an Auror was just plain nuts.  Anyone who voluntarily got chased and hexed and sometimes tortured by Dark wizards had to be off their rocker.

“Mr. Graves,” Jauncey said, repressive.  “Fascinating as this discussion is, I am not going to debate the relative sanity of anyone in the Graves family with you.”

Gawain squinted at him.  He was pretty sure that the headmaster had just implied that they were all nuts, but he wasn’t one hundred percent certain.  He wasn’t sure if he should be offended or not.

Probably not.  He was already in enough trouble.

“Right, sir,” he said.  “Sorry, sir.”

“Getting back to the matter at hand,” said Jauncey.  “Why don’t you tell me, in your own words, what happened.”

Gawain resisted the urge to make a face.  Dad liked that trick.  So did Uncle John and Uncle Alex.  It was an Auror thing.  Asking people to tell you what happened in their own words put them at ease, and it also made them more likely to slip up and tell you more than they meant to.

Gawain had gotten wise to that trick when he was about seven.

“Professor Thompson was teaching us about healing potions,” Gawain said, trying to make it sound like he wasn’t thinking very carefully about what he was saying.  “Today we were covering Pepper-Up, ‘cause we’re coming up on cold season, and he wanted to be preemptive.  And then someone asked if he meant for us to test the potion on ourselves, and Professor Thompson said yes.  And she said, that’s dangerous, sir, and he said, I assure you, Miss - Um.”  Gawain gave the headmaster a slightly panicked look.  He did not want to get Rosamund Weiss in trouble too.  She hadn’t even done anything wrong, aside from point out that it was wrong to experiment on children.  “Anyway,” he forged on.  “He said, I assure you that if you brew the potion correctly, it’s not dangerous at all.

“Except, it kind of is,” Gawain said.  “Because we’re students and we’re still learning, and I think Libby Frasier’s melted more cauldron’s than anyone else in Ilvermorny history, so her potion probably wouldn’t be safe to drink at all.  And Uncle Robert says that you should never, ever test a potion that you’re not completely sure of.  Especially not outside of a controlled laboratory setting,” he added, because Papa had a bizarre love of potions and he and Uncle Robert could go on about them for hours.  “Uncle Robert has this whole speech about lab safety,” Gawain added.  “I’ve heard it kind of a lot.”

Jauncey looked resigned.  “Yes, I gathered.  You seem to have it memorized.”

“Er,” said Gawain.  “I didn’t really mean to give the lab safety speech,” he said.  “It just kind of … happened.”

That part was the first out and out lie he’d told all day.  Professor Thompson had turned an ugly look on Rosamund.  Gawain knew that look.  It was the look that said Rosamund would be the one to try Libby’s potion, regardless of how it turned out, and that he wouldn’t let her go to the infirmary afterwards, either.

Gawain hadn’t wanted Rosamund to be sick.  The Weiss’ and the Graves’ were allies.  Sort of.  He didn’t think Dad and Director Weiss got along very well personally, but they had each other’s backs professionally and that seemed to be good enough for them.  Grown-up’s were weird like that.

Also, Rosamund was really pretty.  Gawain got kind of stupid around her sometimes.  He couldn’t help it.

So he’d cleared his throat and said, “Actually, sir, Miss Weiss is absolutely correct.  The dangers of cross-contamination alone present an unreasonable risk.”

Professor Thompson had stared at him.  “Mr. Graves,” he’d said, in a tone that suggested that Gawain was twelve and therefore dumb.  “Do you even know what cross-contamination means?”

“Contaminating one substance with another,” Gawain had said promptly.  “It’s dangerous in a laboratory setting, or with food, if you have allergies.  In a laboratory setting - especially a teaching one, like this one - you’ve no idea whether or not who used your workstation last cleaned it as well as they should have, so there’s a risk that your potion might be contaminated with whatever they were working on.”

“No one likes a know it all, Mr. Graves,” Thompson had drawled.

“Sorry, sir,” Gawain had said, obviously not sorry at all.  “It’s just, shouldn’t we be taught the principles of lab safety?  It’s important.”

Libby had raised her hand.  “I’d kind of like to know the principles of lab safety,” she’d said.

“That’s because you’re dangerous,” Atticus Lee had said.

“Exactly,” Libby had said.  “If there’s a way for me not to be dangerous in class, I want to know what it is.”

That had made a lot of sense to the rest of the class, and Gawain figured that was as good a time as any to launch into Uncle Robert’s Lab Safety Is Important And Here’s Why speech.

“You gave a twenty minute lecture on lab safety,” Jauncey said, drawing Gawain back into the present.  “The other students took notes.”

Gawain rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish.  “I might’ve been quoting Uncle Robert when I said there’d be a quiz.”

“And that just … happened,” said the headmaster.

“Yes?” Gawain ventured.

“Merlin’s beard,” said Jauncey.  “It’s Galahad and the dueling club all over again.”

“Hey,” protested Gawain.  “I’m not that bad.”

“Forgive me, Mr. Graves, but you and your brother have rather more in common than you think,” the headmaster said.

Rude, thought Gawain.  He kept his mouth shut, though.  Authority figures rarely wanted to know what you thought of their opinions.

“Please refrain from taking over your professor’s classes in the future,” Jauncey commanded.

“Yes, sir,” said Gawain.

“You will apologize to Professor Thompson,” the headmaster continued.

Since Jauncey didn’t say he had to be sincere, Gawain was willing to meet him halfway.

“Yes, sir,” Gawain said again.

“And you have two weeks of detention,” Jauncey finished.

“Yes, sir,” Gawain said.

Jauncey sighed.  “You can go back to class,” he said.

“Thank you, sir,” Gawain said.

“And Gawain?”

Gawain turned back at the door.  “Sir?”

“We do, actually, have your safety in mind.  I wish you’d trust that.”

If he really had their safety in mind, he’d have taken Gawain and Rosamund’s point and made sure that Professor Thompson didn’t make the students test improperly prepared potions on one another.

Gawain ducked his head, acknowledging the headmaster’s point.

He bet Galahad and Owen would have some ideas about how to deal with Professor Thompson, if the headmaster wouldn’t.

Terrifying wasn’t so bad, when it was on your side.  And there was nothing the Graves siblings couldn’t do, as long as they did it together.

[empty-dream]

Me watching Fate/Apocrypha ep 10

Sieg: *trembling while holding the sword* “Fight me!” Mordred: “Learn to hold a goddamn sword first”

Astolfo: “Dude I did not suffer for this!’ Sieg: “Really sorry about that!” Mordred: *send them both away with one blow* “gET A ROOM”

I’m choking Mordred is definitely pulling a “Are you serious? Right in front of my salad sword?”

Wow Sieg’s glare is pretty chilling. Finally some depth on his on screen appearance.

In addition, it’s when he declares his new name and his existence, so good job.

Caules and Fran getting on the hit-them-when-they-talk bandwagon.

You thought regular looting is bad? Try heart looting.

Hello to the people who come here thinking Jack is hot innocent loli, behold she is actually blood-splattered lunatic scavenging dead hearts from dead people. 

The idea of the most famous serial killer being an apparition shaped as little girl dressed in futuristic stripper outfit bathed in blood and corpses while fiddling with a Nokia 6000 series is WAY BEYOND WHAT I COULD EVER COME UP IN MY ENTIRE LIFE

“Our new room” more like “room we literally kill people for”

Jack: “Okay mom, bye bye!” *Naruto runs*

How is that walking metal armor not electrocuted by Fran’s lightning that’s some EX magic shit going on here

Caules hon that’s not what I’d call acting with discretion.

‘Third-rates’ wow Mordred your trash-talking actually hurts huh who did you learn from? Gawain?

I just realized that since Clarent is powered by Mordred’s hatred for Artoria, then it basically runs on the power of emo LOLOLOLOL

Well all is funny until she blows everybody several yards away with it.

Yo Mordred do yo always go and see people and be like “this one is homunculus, this one is not”??

On the other hand, good job A-1 at showing explicitly that Fran is indeed not a homunculus nor a human but a true artificial creation.

I don’t like saying this but Mordred, if you want an enemy real dead, go for the head.

I think she was all about decapitating people before so why suddenly just stabbed?

Um nice try Sieg but don’t you see that metal armor is like this thick and Mordred is like Terminator?

The sword looks like a toothpick jammed lightly it’s awkward now

Mordred angrily turns red, literally.

Remember that Astolfo saved Sieg just because he could? Now Sieg saved Astolfo simply because he saved him. 

Ugh getting stabbed by that huge-ass sword should hurt A LOT huh

It’s been like two days out of the castle and Sieg experiences death. AGAIN.

Sieg you need to stop dying this is not Supernatural.

I guess Mordred’s characterization is definitely aimed to be jarring between the savagery she displays in battle and the chivalrous nature she harbours as a knight. 

Astolfo: “HOW DARE YOU KILL THEM?! ARE YOU SERIOUS?! RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY SALAD LANCE?!”

That’s some chilling scream Astolfo

Kairi: “Did you make sure she’s dead?” Mordred: “Dude I stabbed her with giant sword like in the torso” Kairi: “Shit boi did you forget this is a magic war? People sparkles when they die!”

Fran’s mace: *standing up ominously* Mordred: “Weird” Me: Maybe you should be called “The Knight of Obviousness” instead of “The Knight of Treachery”

Fran: SURPRISE BITCH THOUGHT YOU’D SEEN THE LAST OF ME

Fran taking strangling with bare hands to a whole new level

Wow the mace suddenly floats, does some clicking, whirling, becomes green, and now it looks like green thunder chupa chups

Uh as much as I hate Celenike, I can’t disagree with her saying ‘stand back and don’t get roped into a suicide bomb’

But I guess if she doesn’t force Astolfo he’d definitely bolt to the ground zero trying to get a better ending that’s just like him

At this point, it’s pretty clear that none of Fran Al-Qaeda-ing her way is Caules’ command.

But instead he just understands her and gives the last command spell to boost her, no matter how painful of a decision it is :(

Wow does using the last command spell always induce flashy tron lines and sharp lightning?? Is this the Apocrypha style? Last time I see people do that, it’s just dramatic wind.

Caules’ glasses breaks and cheek gets slashed only adds the dramatic tension. And it looks cool in gif.

hOLY CRAP THE BLOOD TURNS INTO FLOWER PETALSSTOP IT STOP THE FLASHBACK IT FUCKING HURTSSSS

It’s bad enough if a dying person’s life flashes before their eyes bUT IT’S ENTIRELY ON DIFFERENT LEVEL IF IT FLASHES BEFORE THEIR CLOSE PARTNER’S EYES

Fran gets super pissed at Mordred she decides to talkIt’s actually a bit funy that everybody from the author to the animators making sure people notice Fran’s lightning pierces Sieg like ‘yo reader it’s important clue for our protagonist’s powers!’

Wait I just notice the role of the Berserkers from both faction is literally the same: to become servant bomb

At least Fran goes out in a beautiful electric explosion tree........

Astolfo: “Please be dead please be dead” Mordred: “...Yo...Hhh... Surprise....hh...bitch-” Astolfo: “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!?”

Caules babe :’’’(((((((

He’s such a good master he honestly thought he screwed up and let Fran die in vain and he couldn’t do anything for her even until the end

In the novels, from this point on, everything about Caules and Fran will just hurt like a bitch.

Okay let’s cut the sadness and LOOK SIEG’S HEART BEATING

Siegfried appears!!!!!

I kinda forget that bathing in dragon blood means he’s actually covered in blood from head to toe that’s pretty disgusting if given more thought.

So Siegfried’s previous life was literally on the range of ‘national hero’ to ‘professional killer’ to ‘matchmaker’

Sieg: “You lived your life as a wish-granting machine but do you ever have a wish yourself?” Siegfried: “Dude you’re like born months ago don’t throw existential crisis on me right now”

Siegfried: “Now let’s get back on you. Do you have a wish?” Sieg: “....Uhm..” Siegfried: “See existential crisis doesn’t feel good.”

Siegfried takes Sieg from aurora field to dragon dungeon so Sieg’s ego grows like wow that’s hardcore

What is this? A King Arthur play? Sword in the stone??

It’s mandatory to have a fate anime with somebody dramatically decides on a life purpose and dramatically pulls out a sword.

You know, I’ve always liked Balmung’s design. It screams ‘WILD HERO’ and it’s got this badass design and color and sheath. In fact, it’s the third place in my heart after Durandal and maybe-not-suprisingly La Pucelle

That’s why I’m THIS close to be angry that it appears like a cannon fodder sword but thank God it transforms

Mordred: “Wew that was close!” Kairi: “Don’t ‘wew that was close’ me that servant you called third rate just nearly deep fried you if I didn’t bail you out and now I’m tired”

Astolfo be like “My friend is dead, my other friend is dead too, my other other friend is also dead, and now I’m facing a terminator why God”

Sieg!Fried: *standing ominously under the moon* Mordred: “Master, he’s dead right?” Kairi: “Yeah I heard so” Mordred: “Well now we have The Walking Dead”

I think I just squealed hearing Sieg!Fried’s asking “Are you okay?” that sounds so gentle and so hot at the same time?????

Sieg!Fried: “Are you okay?” Astolfo: *blush* “Baka” Mordred: “GET A FUCKING ROOOMMMMMM”

I love how chill Kairi is when facing this anomaly he’s like “Dude, it’s magic war, anything can happen”

Mordred you don’t get to call Balmung a cosplay sword when Clarent also looks like a gigantic cosplay sword

And cut to Shakespeare giving comments as usual. Do Semiramis and Shirou have to watch every battle while listening to his narration?

HAHA Semiramis has to place her hand palms up because of the spikes WHY IS THAT SO FUNNY?

Hm I kinda don’t know what to make out from Shirou’s words but I presume it’s about Sieg should just live like a pure baby he is instead of letting that purity dyed in everything good and bad in being human?

If that’s so, it’s a big hint of Shirou’s goal, no?

Shirou’s practicing if-looks-could-kill without even trying

Semiramis and Shakespeares are such good friends to Shirou they notice him look evil in a matter of seconds

Shirou be like “I thought my feelings are all secret but guess not I should perfect my poker face” just like his servant. Truly a match of heaven.

Lol guys that boy you just declare worthless will be the final man standing against you lololololol

Indeed Shakespeare is the Genre Savvy™ as expected of THE playwright

Mordred: “Master what’s his weakness?” Kairi: “His weakness is ‘Do your best and find out yourself’” Kairi is such a lil shit I love him

And there you have it the first battle scene in the first episode

Y’know, the novel describes Balmung as emanating orange light like the twilight when activated but the very same novel also illustrates it with vivid blue light and it’s making me having the existential crisis since forever

Balmung vs Clarent Blood Arthur more like Let’s nuke each other

Aw they skip the calling the name of the noble phantasms if you ask me I prefer if they include it in this episode too

Oh now it’s Sieg’s command spell on the closing title and with completely different background and SCATTERED FLOWER IS THE TITLE OF THIS EPISODE THANKS FOR REMINDING ME AGAIN THAT IT HURTS ):

Fran’s dead, Caules cries, my heart really hurts

Trust me, the novel version is far worse than the animation. The narration from the moment Caules notices what he has to do to his reaction after her death is just painful. All the root cause of it all? It’s because they care for each other. Even he acknowledges that.

Oh yeah and also Fran dies with a little smile while speaking those words in the novel, kinda different vibe with the anime version

In the novel, the Siegfried’s flashback also reveals his one wish: To become an ally of justice a.k.a. the same dream possessed by the Kiritsugu and Shirou Emiya. Now it may differs from each person but for me personally, while it serves as a driving force to Siegfried’s character, it’s also yet another a form of homage (or maybe long running serious gag?) to both Fate/Zero and Fate/Stay Night. Whether it is good or not to omit that from the anime, I can’t really say....

NEXT: I think we need some Jeanne now. Hopefully not Naruto running again.

[aion-rsa]

Cursed Season 2: What to Expect

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This Cursed feature contains spoilers for both the Netflix series and the illustrated novel of the same name. Read our spoiler-free review of the series here.

Netflix’s Cursed puts a feminist spin on the legend of King Arthur by centering its origins around a woman – Nimue, the future Lady of the Lake. Its first season contained a little bit of everything, from romance and action to politics and magic, with a finale that featured several big character revelations and ended on a major cliffhanger. While Netflix has yet to announce a season 2 renewal for the show, it certainly feels as though Cursed has plenty of stories left to tell. After all, no one’s even referred to Nimue as the Lady of the Lake yet!

Save for a few – admittedly, very intriguing – tidbits, the bulk of Netflix’s Cursed is fairly faithful to the novel upon which it is based. Therefore, we don’t have much to go on by way of a roadmap for what the second season could look like. (That, naturally, may change in the weeks and months ahead, since it seems like a pretty safe bet that the book series will continue, regardless of whether there’s a second season of the show.) But there are a few hints to be mined from the ending of the book, and from the bones of Arthurian legend itself, that might provide us some clues.

Here are our best educated guesses for what we can expect to see in Cursed Season 2.

Nimue Survives

There’s not much fun in the idea of a second season without our leading lady, is there?

Cursed Season 2 will have to sort out precisely what’s happened to Nimue, last seen plummeting toward what may well be her death – or potential eternal supernatural imprisonment – after being shot full of arrows. This is a fantasy series, though, so no one should be really surprised when she inevitably survives. The show is very careful to never show us a body, after all, and leaves us with a final image of Nimue drifting through blood-tinged water. It’s really the how of it all that will be the question.

Read more

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How Katherine Langford Shakes Up Arthurian Legend in Netflix’s Cursed

By Lacy Baugher

But we have a pretty good idea of what that will probably look like, too. The Cursed TV series ends a few moments before the novel upon which it is based does. The book not only confirms Nimue survives her fall but several other key factors as well, including what appears to be her assumption of the Lady of the Lake mantle. While in the water, Nimue can still sense the Sword of Power and vows to protect it until “a true king rises to claim it.” But instead of transforming into some sort of otherworldly being, an injured Nimue eventually washes up on the shores of the Minotaur Mountains, where she’s surrounded and taken off by a mob of the lepers that serve King Rugen. Whether he will help her or try to use her against Merlin is anyone’s guess at this point.

Merlin’s Magic Tips the Scales

Wild with grief after Nimue’s apparent death, Merlin regains the Sword of Power, reclaims his magic, and murders a bunch of Red Paladins. What’s next for the famous wizard? Probably not helping the Viking king that engineered his daughter’s murder.

Merlin originally allied with Cumber, promising him the sword in the hopes of both keeping Nimue alive and unseating King Uther. Cumber’s betrayal – joining forces with the Red Paladins and ambushing the escaping Fey – means Merlin’s now an enemy, and the only real question is whether he’ll use his newly returned magical abilities to just kill Cumber, or if he’ll decide that Uther should keep his crown as well. Whatever happens, Merlin seems set to claim his place as the real power behind the throne. And that could ultimately prove a boon to Arthur down the road.

We’ll Get to Know The Weeping Monk

The shocking revelation that the murderous Weeping Monk is Lancelot came in the first season’s final moments, leaving audiences little time to process this information. In the world of the original legends, Lancelot is kind of a big deal. He’s most widely remembered for his affair with Guinevere – which brings about the downfall of Camelot – but he’s also the greatest knight of the Round Table and a model of Christian chivalry. (The contradictions are what make it all so fun.)

One has to assume that any Cursed Season 2 would need to focus fairly heavily on turning this character – who spent most of his screen time brooding and executing complex fighting maneuvers – into an actual three-dimensional person. If the intention is that this Lancelot, who murdered a countless number of his Fey brothers and sisters, will one day become Arthur’s most trusted champion and a hero all can admire? Well. He’s certainly got a long way to go.

A Love Triangle – or Possibly Quartet? – on the Horizon

Things will probably get real messy on the relationship front pretty quickly in Season 2. While Arthur and Nimue’s love story feels like it’s barely gotten started, their connection is sweet, romantic, and seems to make them both better people. Arthur, at any rate, has certainly learned to be a leader by watching his girlfriend do it first. Yet, his last-minute meeting with a Viking woman known as the Red Spear means potentially more than a bit of trouble in paradise.

Because the Red Spear’s name is Guinevere. Yes, Cursed reimagines the most famous (and controversial) female character in Arthurian legend as a battle-hardened warrior who wants a crown for herself. Let me count the ways that I am here for this. Because although Guinevere is well known as a major player in this legend, her character is another that’s often not fleshed out terribly fully. Despite the fact that her decisions eventually bring down a kingdom, we’re given precious little idea why she makes them. So there’s something intensely appealing in an opportunity to see her get some real agency within her own story, as Nimue has.

Read more

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Netflix’s Cursed Reinvents the Traditional Once and Future King

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Because much like Nimue, Guinevere also has a destiny, and it involves a future as Arthur’s wife and Lancelot’s mistress. Given that she spent approximately five minutes fighting alongside the former and hasn’t met the latter yet, we’re clearly a ways away from that future. But speculating about how that might come to pass – and how Nimue will react upon meeting Arthur’s new lady friend – is definitely entertaining. Largely because it feels as though Cursed could go in any direction with this group, even as they’re all fighting toward the same ends.

Could We Meet the Actual Green Knight?

Putting a stake in the ground now – there’s no way that Gawain is actually dead. Sure, we did see a body this time – sort of –but in a world that’s brimming with magic? Anything’s possible.

One of the most intriguing fusions in Cursed is the decision to merge the character of Gawain, one of the most famous Knights of the Round Table, and the Green Knight, a man sent to test and challenge Gawain’s chivalry, who also happens to be literally green. (And can also withstand being beheaded.) But it seems quite likely that Gawain’s himself may become a true version of the Green Knight in Cursed, resurrected by the magic of the Fey greenery in Season 2.

There’s Probably More to the Leper King

Out of all the predictions in this list, this one feels the most outlandish. But throughout Cursed it’s difficult not to draw parallels between Ruben, king of the lepers, and the Fisher King of Holy Grail legend. In the Grail story, the Fisher King – sometimes referred to as the Maimed King or the Wounded King – is the last surviving member of the bloodline charged with guarding the famous chalice. He’s always grievously injured in some way, and usually unable to stand. Sometimes the lands of his kingdom are as blighted as his body. Various knights journey to his castle to try and heal him, but everyone fails, except for Percival (and in later versions, Galahad.)

Leper King Ruben isn’t nearly as incapacitated as the Fisher King of legend, but he is physically suffering, and he keeps a horde of ancient, magical, and/or singularly valuable items in his castle vault. Don’t be surprised if one of them turns out to be a particularly powerful cup.

The post Cursed Season 2: What to Expect appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[fate-ad2021]

18(b). ���Conspiracy Unveiled” (part 2 of 2)

Session 18, May 7, 2017

Word count: 4,421

In-Game Date: Tuesday, June 15, 2021

In which the group learns entirely too many unsettling possibilities about their enemy’s state of preparedness.

VII. Morning Meetings and Phone Calls

Breakfast on Tuesday morning is accompanied by a flurry of planning.  The first priority, the group decides, is to continue working at Vasilyevich’s laptop.  They reason that there must be something in there to help them prepare for the situation ahead.

But not everyone can help with the laptop investigation.  Jim decides that he should call Granny Gertrude again to see what she can dig up about Rhongomyniad, since she has access to material that they might not otherwise find.  Caster volunteers to help him with that topic; Jim and Siobhan understand computers better than he does, but his eyewitness experience will allow him come up with more nuanced search terms than they could.

Granny knows a little off the top of her head about the spear.  She knows that it is from Arthurian legend, and mentions that it is often conflated with the spear that pierced the side of Christ on the cross – called the Lance of Longinus – although she is nearly certain that they are not the same artifact.  However, that is where her knowledge stops:  when Jim asks about the spear’s other attributes and abilities, as well as its other wielders, she says that she will need to do some additional research and call back later.

It is with this knowledge that Siobhan, Jim, and Caster begin their research. While Assassin seeks out Archer to talk and Val steps away to phone Reines again, the three sit down with a laptop and start to dig.

Caster suggests compiling a list of everyone who has the right to wield the spear.  If they are going to have to face the spear, he explains, the best thing they can do is narrow down the identity of the person on the other end of it.  He knows – somehow, strangely – that he belongs on that list, and he knows – with a growing sense of dread – that King Arthur does as well, but he wants to see who else might make the cut.  He also suggests looking up characteristics of the Lance of Longinus, since mythic associations can be just as important as original attributes.

It takes them a few hours, since there is not much in the way of extant records of either the Lance of Longinus or Rhongomyniad.  But they finally manage to narrow it down to a disturbing truth: the list of wielders for the world-breaker lance is a short one.  Merlin himself is thought to be able to wield it, due to his sheer power if for no other reason; that much is as they suspected.  Besides that, the two Pendragon kings are the only people thought to have access to it.  It was passed down from Uther to Arthur.  Caster knows that it hardly ever came into battle; Arthur preferred Excalibur, but there were times when the holy sword failed and the King had to use Rhongomyniad. He cannot remember witnessing such a time, though.

“What about Saber?” Siobhan asks.  “Gawain was Arthur’s right-hand knight, wasn’t he?  Wouldn’t he have been there for most of the major battles?”

“That’s a good point,” Caster nods.  “We should talk to him about it.”

At the other end of the house, Val is pacing the room on the phone with Reines. “…so that’s what I found about the Sophia-Ri.  It tracks with what you told us, so there’s that.”

“I’m glad you decided to believe me.”  Reines sounds more annoyed than grateful.

“Look, I had to check,” Val insists, “and I figured that I would learn some more that I didn’t already know, too.  Now, what else can you tell me about the family?  The others are looking into how to deal with the Servant that Emil probably has, so here I am looking into how to deal with the man himself. Got any advice?”

Reines heaves a deep, slow sigh.  “I can’t tell you anything about the man himself, but I can tell you what his family specializes in.  The last patriarch was head of the Department of Summoning here at the Clock Tower.  As a house, they are far more advanced in that field than Archibald.”

“So they’re summoners like you?”

“No,” Reines murmurs, “their specialty is on another level entirely. I can summon nature spirits – things of wind and water and fire.  The things that Sophia-Ri summons… That family reaches outside this plane to call their allies.  We call that class of things ‘Void creatures’.  Those cloaked shadows that you described?  Those are Void creatures.  They exist beyond human comprehension.  The ones you faced before were likely just his cannon fodder; if he sees how strong you and your allies have become, he won’t hesitant to level the full force of his power against you.  And if he could bind a Faery to his will, then he is very powerful indeed.”

“Yikes,” is all that Val can say in response.

“And be careful, too,” Reines goes on, “he’s a slippery bastard.  I’m impressed that you were able to independently confirm everything I told you; through either his natural skills or his magic, he’s been able to block and divert every attempt that I’ve made to find out more about his motives and whereabouts.  It wasn’t until I realized that some of my assets have been broken into—”

“Wait, what do you mean?”  Val exclaims.

Reines gives a petulant huff.  “Apparently I need to monitor my bank accounts more closely.  If it wasn’t for Vol pointing out the suspicious transactions, I never would have known.  But that just confirms my suspicions and what you’ve found:  this War, this whole situation, is very personal.”

Before he hangs up, Val decides to come clean:  “Look, Reines, you should know what decision we’ve come to.  Once we learn how to deal with this Grail, we’re going to destroy all of the information, and we’re not going to send any of it back with Dimitri and France.”

“Wha—why would you tell me that?” she sputters, taken aback at the bluntness.

Val explains it the same way he did to Dimitri: “You know as well as I do that if you have it, other people will be able to get access to it.  That’s what you hire people like me and Dimitri for; you can’t tell me that nobody else at the Clock Tower does the same.  I know they do.  So we’re destroying the notes.”  He pauses, then adds, “And don’t forget to make sure that Belfaban gets in safely. And to see if he has any additional information about or from Vasilyevich.  We have reason to believe that he can partial copies of the notes, and those should be destroyed too.”

Reines is quiet for a moment, then agrees.  “You’re right.  This whole thing has gotten out of hand.  I suppose we’re in the damage control stage now.  So that’s what I’ll focus on.  I’ll let you know when we’ve got Belfaban in custody.”

VIII. Chat with Archer

Amid all these goings on, Assassin retreats to seek out Archer.  More than simply getting to know her Master’s other Servant, she wants to ensure his loyalty and to make sure he understands the risks that they are about to face.

She finds him in the decrypters’ chamber, watching the proceedings with Saber. Neither of them understand the miracles of the technology or the magecraft at work, but they both provide valuable insight to the workings of the War from the Servants’ perspective. Assassin joins them for a few minutes before tapping Archer’s arm.

“Sit with me a while?” she asks.  He nods and slips away with her.

They wind up on the roof, as Assassin and Lancer had done a few days ago. Archer waits for her to speak, sensing that she is gathering her thoughts.  Finally, she ventures to ask, “Were you able to speak with Saber?”

“I was.”

“About the possibility of the Eighth being the King?”

“Yes,” Archer sighs, “And he told me to get back to him when the time comes. He sounded as though he was unsure where his loyalties would wind up falling.  But truth be told, neither of us believes that King Arthur summoned to this War would be the person we served in life.”

“You think death would have changed him that much?” Assassin asks mildly.

“If Camlann didn’t, then whatever had to happen to get him here now would have done it,” Archer replies.  “I know I’m biased, but the King ultimately did have the people’s best interest at heart. But this War stinks of corruption; even a heart like that could not survive intact.”

Assassin does not manage to suppress her frown; she sees that he noted it. Nevertheless, Archer goes on, “If it comes to blows, then odds are good that Saber will allow the King the first strike.  If he’s still standing afterwards, hopefully that will change his mind.  So long as that first strike does not hit you, or me, or Jim, then it does not matter to me.”

Assassin chuckles as Jim chimes in, “Nice to know I’m loved too.”

Archer turns an appraising gaze toward Assassin then; she finds a very interesting brick on the street to examine.  “And what of you, Lady?” he inquires.  “You know of Saber’s relationship to the King, and mine as well.  What of yours?”

Assassin clears her throat as Jim gives a hearty laugh in the back of her mind. She uncrosses and crosses her legs, utterly failing to hide her discomfort.  “I was… a magical advisor at the court, before Arthur’s… religious convictions became apparent.  There came a time when I could no longer ignore the damage that was being done to the land, to our people, and to our traditions.  So I left.”

Archer chuckles.  “The simplicity of your explanation hides the truth of your legend!”

Assassin raises an eyebrow at him.  “Perhaps from you, who left so early.  I don’t believe we properly met, except in passing.”

“That may be true,” Archer nods, “the Knights were few, but the priestesses around Camelot were many.  Still, you must have been someone of no small importance, to be summoned as a Servant.”

Assassin sighs.  “That does seem to be the way of it, doesn’t it?  It’s never the common folk or the neutral ones who go down in history.  It is ever only the extremes:  villains, heroes, the immensely powerful either way.”

Archer nods.  “And I would like to think that a personage such as yourself, who would go down in history as such a powerful sorceress, would be forever seared into my memory. But I confess myself clueless.  Take pity on a poor old soldier, Lady Assassin? You know my name; give me yours.”

His plea is met with silence, then a quiet chuckle.  “Alright.  I was called Morgana.  I do recall meeting you once, with Bedivere and some of the others, but that was before I came to anyone’s attention but my Lady’s.”

Archer studies her for a moment, as though retrieving some far distant memory, then confesses softly, “The Grail has given me some knowledge of you, but I’m not inclined to believe secondhand stories.  However, I must ask… Are you the Morgana who has relation to Mordred?”

At this, Assassin balks.  “Unfortunately, yes.  He was a mistake.  A failure. And worse, a traitor to the old gods and to all our stated intentions.”

“And a bad child besides,” Jim chimes in.

Archer holds up his hands, eyebrows raised and an amused smile on his face. “I’ve clearly touched a nerve. And I’ve decided that whatever else was between you, I do not want to know.  Now, let’s go rejoin the others and see what they’ve found, eh?”

IX. The Three Knights

At the group’s request, the decrypters focus their efforts on finding out information about the Eighth Servant.  It takes them the better part of the day to piece it all together; Dimitri calls them in for an update close to dinnertime.

“We know that the first two Wars in this series had Ruler as the eighth Class,” Dimitri begins, projecting an incomprehensible chart of statistics and variables onto the wall, “but it looks like Vasilyevich wasn’t expecting to pull up Ruler at all.”

“Are there other options?” Val asks.

“Some of the Fuyuki Wars had a class they called Avenger, but we have unfortunately little data on that.  Most of it was lost over the course of those Wars; all we know is that it was partly to blame for things falling apart in the Third Fuyuki War.  There are bits here that refer to Avenger, but it doesn’t look like that’s what he was going for either.”

Dimitri points to a few variables and numbers.  “Look here, and here.  These variables correspond to features commonly found in Knight classes.  Chances are, this isn’t a real Class.  It’s like he was trying to build a Knight Class from scratch.”

“What?”  Jim gasps. “You can do that?!”

“Apparently so,” France responds.  He points to an equation in Dimitri’s projection.  “See that?  That has the same variables that he used to represent the Death Seals, which suggests that he might have wanted to power this thing with the energy from the seals at some point.”

“And then we’ve got this,” Dimitri says, flipping back a few pages on the laptop and projecting a new image onto the wall.

“Oh!”  Jim and Val exclaim.  “It’s the summoning chant!”

“Yup, but look at what’s different:  it has an extra line, like you would use to summon Berserker.  Only it doesn’t mention the Berserker Class – just ‘corruption’, and ‘Camelot’.”

“So he was expecting interaction with the Arthurian mythos,” Assassin murmurs, “and he was expecting whoever it was to come back wrong.”  She and Caster share a glance with each other and with the Knights, all of them filled with a palpable dread.

“These notes here even mention a Red Knight,” France explains, “and here is the mention of a possible White Knight.”

Saber nods.  “We got both of those.  Berserker was the Red Knight of Treachery and I’m the White Knight of the Sun, although I always got the sense that I wasn’t the one he intended to summon initially.”

Dimitri shrugs.  “If he was aiming for this… this Black Knight, then yeah, getting the White Knight would be pretty disappointing.”

They spend a few moments compiling a list of features common to Knight Classes: high Strength, Endurance, Riding, and Magic Resistance.  Heavy defenses and heavy outgoing damage are both common; the knights tend to be the strongest things on the field.  Given the variables in play, Dimitri suspects that it should fall most in line with a Saber class; Val reminds him that whoever it is wields a spear, which suggests elements of a Lancer.

Assassin leans forward in her seat.  “I would know more about this corruption that you mentioned.”

Dimitri takes a few more moments to search for details before compiling a chart of common class statistics.

“Honestly, there isn’t much there.  If I had to guess, it looks like he was stripping pieces of Saber, Lancer, and Berserker Classes and flinging them into one Servant.  He was hacking the code of the Grail War to make this happen. That’s going to end up fucking up any Servant; you can’t just do that… although I guess he did.”  Dimitri shakes his head.  “There’s not much mention about what this corruption means beyond that, though. Sorry.”

The group sits in silence for a few minutes, mulling over thoughts and possibilities.  They appear to be at another dead end when, both at once, Val and Jim snap their fingers and point at each other.  “The Shard!”

Dimitri and France look confused, and Val and Jim stumble over each other explaining:  two other Masters had gotten their hands on a Shard of the Round Table for their employer, who has been evading all attempts at locating him until now.  The group knows that the pair of ex-Masters dropped the Shard at the Colosseum after using it to summon Berserker, but the group never got around to looking for it because they were chasing Archer at the time and then got caught up in trying to ensure Stella’s safety.

“Caster,” Val asks, “can you do your thing and track the Shard through time?”

Caster nods and sinks onto the floor and into a trance.

The Shard in the vault, in the luggage, in the circle, in the cubby behind the brick…

The impression of a man, reaching, grasping… Red hair, red Command Seal…

The Shard in the bag, in the second summoning circle…

An overwhelming sense of horrible dread, still strong for its temporal distance…

The Shard in an iron box on a shelf in a mansion somewhere out of the way.

Caster shakes himself out of the trance and announces his success without enthusiasm.  “Emil got his hands on it alright; after it was used to summon Berserker, he used it to summon that terrifying thing I mentioned earlier.”

“He probably had Jordan and Petri use it first so that someone else was guaranteed to get Berserker,” Jim realizes, “which would leave him free to get the Knight that he wanted.”

Val shakes his head, “But there’s no way that he could have known about the eighth Servant class!  Maybe he was trying to get Saber?  Saber is commonly seen as the most powerful Servant, after all.”

“I would love to agree with you,” France interjects, “but I’ve got a bad feeling about this.  Where did you guys get this laptop?”

Jim answers: “From the Mastermind, in his bunker.  What’s wrong?”

“Look, Vasilyevich was a good researcher.  He was also paranoid as shit, and really picky about version control. He had these files set to automatically save new copies every time they were closed, and every one of these files has changes made for each time it was opened.  Except once:  exactly one time, the files were opened, viewed, and then closed without any changes.”

“You think maybe somebody else broke in and viewed the files?” Assassin asks.

“It could be nothing, but it doesn’t fit his pattern.”

“When was that incident?” Caster inquires.

“Looks like it was last Sunday,” France replies.  “The sixth of June.”

Caster and Assassin share a dour frown.  “We were summoned on Wednesday.  If it was Emil getting access to the notes, then that puts him well ahead of everyone else.  Perfectly poised to observe and then make his move, to force Jordan and Petri to summon Berserker so he could summon the Black Knight.”

The realization is followed by somber silence until Saber speaks up again. “You know, I don’t feel so bad anymore.” When everyone cocks an eyebrow at him, he explains with a bright smile, “My former Master was very good at making a person unwanted; it’s a little comforting to know that I was summoned to him because someone thwarted his plan.”

X. The Spear that Pierces the World

Shortly after dinnertime, Jim’s phone rings; Granny has rustled up some more information about Rhongomyniad.  She shares her findings with the group gathered close around the old phone and the volume turned all the way up.  The spear’s last known use was at the battle of Camlann, when King Arthur used it to strike down Mordred.  There is also record that it was used to defeat a dragon, somehow in connection to one of Camelot’s enemies, but details of that battle are vague and elusive.

“I assume that some of his knights were there,” Granny tells them, “but unfortunately eyewitness testimony is a little far out of our reach.”

Val and Jim shoot pointed looks at Caster and Assassin, who have just barely managed to muffle their laughter.  Caster mouths the word “Saber” at the group, and they nod solemnly:  if anyone of the current group was at such a battle, it would be Gawain.

“What else did you find about the spear’s nature, Granny?” Jim asks.

“Not much, I’m afraid.  There are a few common themes throughout these texts, though:  if it has any assigned attributes, they’re things like connection to the World, to reality and the stability of this realm.  It all sounds a bit silly, if you ask me, but magic is all about conceptual connection, after all.”

The group is pale with concern by the time they hang up with their contact. Jim turns to Caster.  “Shall we go talk to our eyewitness?”

“Allow me,” Caster implores, “he probably won’t appreciate being interrogated by the whole group.  Again.”

So Caster shows himself to the room where Saber rests.  Saber is seated at the desk with a book; he looks up when the other Servant enters.

“Magus,” he greets Caster, having determined that the ever-changing face must belong to his ally, “is something wrong?  You’ve gone pale.”

“We’ve been learning more about our remaining opponent,” Caster replies, taking a seat himself, “and what we’ve found has the potential to be… very unfortunate.  We were hoping you might help us with some things that only an eyewitness could know.”

“I can certainly try,” Saber answers with a nod.

Caster takes a deep breath, steels himself, then asks bluntly, “What can you tell us of the spear Rhongomyniad?”

At the mention of the name, Saber sits up a little straighter and closes his book.  He gets a faraway look, and Caster senses his understanding of the gravity of the situation. After a deep breath of his own, he begins to speak:

“Few of us at Camelot understood its true nature.  I cannot count myself among those who did.  I know of only three people who could wield that artifact, and perhaps only one who ever did:  the King, his father, and their advisor the magus.  Such a weapon required a certain right to wield; it was even more powerful than Excalibur, although the King preferred the sword to the spear.  None of us questioned it too much, I’m afraid. I myself was only present for one use of it.”

“Tell me about that.”

“It happened when the King took the field against his uncle, Vortigern. Vortigern was Uther’s brother and a contender for the throne until Arthur came along.  Naturally, he was displeased with the development, but it never became a problem until after Uther passed.  Vortigern maintained a citadel some distance from Camelot, and upon learning of his brother’s death and Arthur’s crowning, he decided to launch a rebellion.”

Caster nods; this much, he remembers.  He himself had once advised Vortigern, but there was no reason to inform Saber of that fact.

Saber goes on, “Vortigern was of the Pendragon line but lacked the innate attributes that his brother and his nephew possessed.  Nevertheless, he… made do.  He learned the power of dragons, and by some unholy magic was able to transform himself into one.”

Caster’s eyebrows climb steadily toward his hairline as Saber continues, “Fighting the dragon was… it was truly a terrible beast.  I have no idea how Vortigern managed it, but the result was an unholy creature, a thing not of this world against which Excalibur and Galatine were useless.  The battle raged for days; by the end of it, all the knights who accompanied Arthur had fallen to exhaustion, and the King himself was beginning to despair.  I recall… I was on the ground, in what I thought to be my final moments, when there shined great searing light.  I looked up, and Rhongomyniad had come to the King’s call, in his moment of desperate need.  There was a pillar of light; when it cleared, the dragon was gone, and only Arthur remained.”

Caster remains still in his seat for a long moment.  Then, with a shuddering breath, he declares his assessment:

“Okay, we’re fucked.”

In the back of his mind, Val is sputtering panicked expletives.  “Shit, shit, shit.  We’re all gonna get killed.”

Aloud, Caster says, “I can only hope that we’re up against a pale imitation, of both the King and the weapon.”

Saber bites his lips as he brings his gaze back from the middle distance.  “I tell you this:  if it truly King Arthur who was summoned as this Black Knight that we learned of, then he is not the Arthur that I knew and served.”  He continues aloud but directed at Val, “If it was summoned as Arthur, then you have my loyalty.  We will destroy whatever it is.  No matter what shape it takes, it is not my king.”

Val beams with pride as he relays the conversation to the rest of the group. Shortly thereafter, his phone rings with Reines on the line.  She is pleased to report that they have Belfaban is custody – he is safe but utterly clueless about the danger or the goings-on.  It remains unclear whether he was under the influence of a geis like McFarrell had been.  Reines reports that he does appear to know who Vasilyevich was and that he had been explicitly sent to Russia to look for artifacts, some of which he brought back with him.  Reines assured the group that the artifacts have been quarantined until she can spare people to examine them, but at first glance they appear to be old Orthodox relics and the like, the sort of thing that Vasilyevich was working with before he got his hands on the Grail ritual.

“Don’t forget to check his computer, his briefcase, whatever he had with him,” Val reminds her.  “We don’t want anything that Vasilyevich sent him to slip away.”

“Of course,” Reines replies.  “And how is your investigation going?  Have you found anything else?”

Val hisses out a tense sigh.  “Yeah. We’re starting to get a sense of the eighth Servant Class.  It was constructed from scratch to be like one of the Knights.  We’ve started calling it the Black Knight Class.  We think whoever it is wields a spear: Rhongomyniad.  Do you know anything about it?”

“…What?”

“I… can spell it for you?” Val offers.

“No, no, I know what it is.  What I mean is:  are you certain?”

“Fairly certain, yeah.”

Reines is silent for a long moment, then replies, “I’ll get back to you.” And hangs up without another word.

The group sits in silence around the phone, hope and dread filling them in equal measure as things become ever clearer.

[fate-ad2021]

13(b). “Identities, Motives, and Meetings” (part 2 of 2)

Session 13, Feb 19, 2017

Word count: 5,897

In-Game Date: Saturday, June 12, 2021 / Sunday, June 13, 2021

In which names are dropped and Val has an ill-advised but surprisingly pleasant meeting.

VI. Identities Revealed

In the stunned silence that follows, Lancer’s face contorts with tightly controlled wrath.  “I would like to kill him,” she declares.

Beside her, Siobhan bites her lips and says nothing.

Jim shakes his head and is a little surprised to find Assassin making the same gesture.  “No, look: remember that we told you about the warehouse foreman?  What Archer is describing sounds like the same sort of geis trigger that made the foreman set the fire.  And in our conversation with Stella at dinner last night, she displayed the same kind of information blocking that the foreman did.”

“Archer attacked you because Stella used a Command Seal on him,” Assassin chimes in.  “And there is a good chance that she was forced to by the geis that the mastermind put on her.  If she is being mind-controlled, and in turn controlling Archer, then neither of them is truly at fault here.”

Lancer still looks unhappy, but does not contest any of their points.

“I got the geis off McFarrell,” Val muses, “so if given the chance, I could probably get it off of Stella as well.”

Archer looks between the people he can see, hope creeping back onto his face. “I had thought of the geis, and I have been doing my best to hold off on passing information to her, in contrast to how we normally operate.”

Val looks at him, startled.  “Wait, you can talk about the geis now!  Can you speak without influence from it, now that you aren’t in constant contact with her?”

“I know not,” Archer replies, then tests the theory:  “Grigori Vasilyevich is the man who placed a geis on my Master Stella.”  He looks amazed at himself, then grins triumphantly, the happiest expression they have seen on him so far.

“Tell us about Vasilyevich,” Jim presses.  “How did Stella get involved with him?”

Archer shakes his head.  “I don’t know much about the man himself, but I can tell you what I know of their connection. Do you remember when we first met you, when Stella called herself, uh… very gay?”

Val laughs.  “Yeah, I remember.”

Archer nods.  “Well, she was telling the truth.  Years ago, she had a lady love back in Egypt, where she went for university.  By the time she was finished with school, her beloved’s family had made other arrangements for her – arrangements which did not include Stella.  But Stella’s family had been killed in the interim, so she had nowhere to go.  I know not how, but she met Grigori somewhere along the way, and he pointed her to an organization called the Atlas Association.  She tells me that he got her connections there, in exchange for the promise of a favor later.  I suspect that he planted the geis on her at that time, but he only activated it now, years later.”

“Sheesh,” Val whistles.  “That’s some pretty strong magic.”

From behind Archer, Caster inquires, “Can you confirm that Vasilyevich is a Master in the War?”

Archer has given up on trying to see the other people in the room, so he just nods firmly.  “Yes. Grigori Vasilyevich is the Master of Servant Saber.”

Assassin sighs and tilts her head back, studying the ceiling.  “Which means that our mystery Knight is probably Rider…”

“What about the creepy child you were asking us to fight?”  Archer asks.

“That was Berserker,” Jim and Val both tell him.  Archer’s eyes widen in surprise, and get even wider when Jim reveals, “Oh, and he was Mordred.”

“That was—” Archer gasps.  “And you—” He shakes his head with a chuckle.  “I was impressed with your display at the Colosseum, and that was only with half of your group.  Assuming you all fought him together, I should not be surprised that you won.”

Archer casts his gaze down to his injured but healing leg and seems to be weighing his options.  Then he looks back up at the group.  “I think it is time that I properly introduce myself.  My name is Sir Tristan of Cornwall.”

Recognition dawns on Caster and Assassin both.  They had suspected that he was a knight of the Round Table, but neither of them had realized who until he spoke:  Tristan was long gone by the time much of the trouble came around Camelot.

Val asks which version of the legend is the true one, since he has heard many.

Archer – Tristan – explains that he was a knight of the Round who was once in love with a woman named Isolde, who was most unfortunately betrothed to Tristan’s uncle.  Nevertheless, he and Isolde opted to have an affair (“as one does,” he says with a self-effacing smile).  Upon discovering it (“as one does,” Jim chimes in), Tristan’s uncle was furious and sent him away.  Tristan later married another woman – coincidentally also by the name of Isolde – who eventually learned of his first love.

“So,” Archer concluded, skipping over all the other details of the story, “my wife became jealous and poisoned me.  The end.”

If anyone notices how deliberate Archer’s flippant tone sounds, no one says anything.  Instead, Val pipes up, “It sounds like you need some tips on handling the ladies.  I can help!”

Assassin and Caster both groan their disapproval, but Jim makes a sharp silencing motion.  “Everybody, shut up!” he snaps.  “We need to focus and figure out how to get Stella back.”  He turns to Archer.  “She’s still in the Vatican, right?”

Archer hesitates, frowning.  “I assume that she went back in after Commanding me to find you.  At the moment, I am having… difficulty, sensing her.”

Jim turns to the rest of them.  “We could try a frontline attack.  Sneak in, grab Stella, sneak out.  Our Servants can’t go with us, but the three of us Masters are nothing to sneeze at.”

“Or,” Val suggests.  “I could do what I did with McFarrell:  call Orsino up, ask him to meet and bring Stella.  He’ll listen.”

“Both of those are terrible ideas!”  Assassin exclaims, and then everyone is talking at once, arguing over the best course of action, their captive forgotten for the moment.

Finally, Archer clears his throat.  When the group has quieted down, he says, “It may surprise you all to hear it, but I think that Valentin might actually have the right idea.  Orsino seems like a reasonable person, for a priest and a Master; if Valentin truly has Stella’s best interests at heart, then he should be willing to at least agree to meeting to discuss her wellbeing. If you can find a way to contact him, then I say do it:  call him, say that you are concerned about Stella, ask if she is alright.”

The rest of the group is still hesitant, but Val nods, glad to be vindicated. “I’ll work on arranging the meeting. Not for tonight, though; I’ll ask him about tomorrow.”

“Why put it off?”  Lancer asks.

Val looks appalled.  “I don’t want a meeting with a creepy priest in the middle of the night!  That’s how horror movies happen!  Besides,” he goes on, “We’re crossing enough genre boundaries as it is.”

Jim and Siobhan shake their heads, exasperated.  “We need to find a neutral non-church ground to meet,” Jim says. Val promises to think about it while they continue talking to Archer.

“Archer,” Caster addresses their captive, “Do you know if Vasilyevich has any other pawns in this War, besides Stella?  We know that he arranged a shipment to the Vatican, and we had suspected that whoever received that was allied with Vasilyevich.  It is looking likely that the person in question was Orsino.”

Archer shakes his head.  “If Grigori has other pawns in the War, Stella and I do not know of them.  By my reckoning of the man, Orsino knew that Stella was a Master because of the Command Seal, but he did not seem to have knowledge of her identity or her connection to Vasilyevich.”

He pauses suddenly, apparently struck by a thought.  “There was something else that you wanted to know at dinner that I could not say due to Stella’s binding:  the identity of Saber.  He is Sir Gawain.”

The group breathes a sigh of relief.  They are all pleased to learn that one of their theories was correct. Val voices this, as well as a question about whether or not Lancelot is on the board.  Archer replies that he does not think so, but there is always the chance that he was summoned as Rider.

At this point, Jim casts a sideways glance toward Lancer.  “Hey, can we talk for a minute?  You too, pretty boy.”  He motions to Val.

The three of them step out into the hallway.  Once there, Jim addresses Lancer.  “Okay, I don’t mean to be intrusive, but everyone else seems to be from a very particular set of legends and I’m just wondering how you fit in.”

“Oh!”  Val exclaims. “Didn’t I tell you?  I found out!”  Lancer looks skeptical, but motions for Val to go on.  Val does not need the encouragement:  “Lancer is Scathach!  Right?”

Lancer heaves a sigh and nods in affirmation.  “Yes, I am she.”

Jim stares at them both blankly.

Val explains, “She was a sorceress, some legends say a vampire or something, who trained a bunch of Irish warriors, including Cu Chulainn.”

“Keeper of the Land of Shadows and all that?”  Lancer asks, trying to ring a bell.

Jim shakes his head.  “Okay. I’m not really up on legends, but I believe you.  My question still stands, though:  where do you fit into all this?  You’re not Arthurian.”

Assassin steps into the hallway to join the conversation, careful to close the door behind her.  “Maybe the Grail thought we needed a babysitter.”

Lancer laughs at this.  “If so, then I was a poor choice for the job.  But I think my presence is not as odd as you might think.  I am connected to Siobhan herself, who is connected to the Grail by her mother—”

“Wait,” Jim interrupts.  “What do you mean, you’re connected to Siobhan?”

Lancer pauses.  “Give me a moment…  There; I’ve blocked communication with her for a moment.  You probably needed a catalyst to summon Assassin, didn’t you? Siobhan didn’t need anything but herself to summon me.  Her heritage was enough.  I believe she is one of my descendants.”

Jim looks surprised.  “Oh, okay. Go on, then.”

Lancer nods.  “As I was saying, I’m tied to Siobhan, who is tied to the Grail War, and my era of legend is tied to the Cauldron of Rebirth, which Assassin and I both believe to be the vessel of the Grail.  In addition to that – you know how magic largely functions on conceptual links? – I am conceptually linked to the Arthurian mythos despite not being from that era.  Assassin and I work magic from the same source, for example, and even more basic than that, we are all from the British Isles.”

“…Huh,” Jim and Val both say, because that is all there is to say to such revelations.  Then Jim adds, “Hey, uh… is your communication with Siobhan still off?” When Lancer nods, Jim steels himself with a deep breath and asks, “So, great-great-great-etc. grandma, can I ask for permission to date your descedent?”

Val bursts out laughing and Assassin just barely manages to suppress a smirk, but Lancer seems genuinely impressed by the gesture.  “If Siobhan accepts your courtship, then you will get no complaints from me about it.  I appreciate your courtesy to ask; there was not such a thing in my time.  Besides, the last time someone had a relationship with one of my apprentices, it… well, it wasn’t pretty.”  At Jim’s concerned expression, she explains, “Cu Chulainn had a relationship with my sister, and that ended badly for everyone.”

“Well,” Val chimes in, “A lot of people now think your sister was a vampire, so…”

Lancer snorts.  “Well, I thought she was a demon.”

VII. Plotting and Planning

When the others return to the false basement, they see that Caster and Siobhan have taken it upon themselves to untie Archer and provide him with the promised sushi.  But even after eating, their captive looks exceedingly fatigued.  His skin, already pale, is bordering on ashen, and he slouches into his chair where before he had tried to proudly hold himself upright. The other three Servants exchange a look of concern; they know that his fatigue is a sign of a low pool of mana. They each relay this to their own Masters, and collectively decide to let Archer get some sleep.

After they have dragged a bed back into the room and let him fall into a deep slumber – which happens so quickly as to be alarming – Assassin checks him over to ensure that the fatigue is not just a side effect of her own magic. While that would be ideal, it appears to be untrue:  Archer’s magic resistance has entirely flushed her magic out of his system, leaving no trace of the sleeping potion from earlier.  She also finds further confirmation that he is in trouble:  his own mana supply, small as it is due to his Class, appears to be running pretty thin.

Assassin leaves the room and Caster wards it behind her, both of them retreating to the living room to join the others.  Assassin reports on her findings, then adds, “Ordinarily, using a Noble Phantasm takes enough out of us that we cannot use it again until we have had a chance to rest and recharge, but it does not deplete our supply as much as I saw with Archer.  This does not bode well for his Master’s status.  While there is a chance that the problem lies in the strength of the Vatican’s warding, we should also consider the possibility that Stella is no longer among the living.”

The group is silent for a long moment, pondering this news, before Caster says, “I can try to seek her out, to learn her status.  When should I look?”

Lancer raises an eyebrow, but Assassin replies, “What can you find of her tomorrow morning?”

Caster settles into a chair and meditates, again casting his mind out into the future.  Such prophecy is easier when he has a clear idea of a target, and he is pleased to find her quickly:

Whose eyes he sees her through, he does not know. The bed that Stella is in seems too comfortable to be standard hospital fare, but the room is clearly meant for healing and recovery.  She is still in the Vatican, if the crucifixes on the walls and the fresco of the Holy Virgin are anything to go by, although he is vaguely surprised to see a Koran on the bedside table beside the rosary.  She is propped up on pillows with the covers pulled up around her neck. He knows that beneath the covers, her arm has been bandaged – the same arm that held the Command Seal when last they met her.  He gets the idea that she is in some pain, but there is no sense of a severe injury.

Caster draws his mind back out of the vision and explains it to the best of his ability.  The implications of the bandage are left unexplored for the moment as Caster and Assassin fall into a discussion of how best to keep Archer alive while Stella is away. They decide that between the two of them, they can probably muster up enough magical energy to feed to Archer to keep him manifested; they both know that the other option is coercing him to do something heinous like eating human life energy, which he would almost certainly object to.

“I’m not going to pay for him to use his Noble Phantasm again, unless we really need it,” Caster declares, “And that, I sorely doubt.”

Assassin nods her agreement.  “But perhaps he can be kept alive long enough to see out the end of the War.”

“Or at least to make sure that we can get Stella back and out alive,” Jim pipes up.  “He should want to stick around at least for that.”

Siobhan frowns.  “I don’t know about this plan.  He seemed kind of… death-wishy to me.”

Assassin bites her lips and tilts her head in concession.  “It is possible that he has given up already.  Perhaps telling him that we know she is safe will help, but…”

Caster shakes his head.  “Not without giving up information we don’t want him to have.”

***

As they have been discussing this, Val has withdrawn to the kitchen with his phone.  It takes some doing, but he finally manages to find Orsino Veronesi’s private number. He retreats to one of the bedrooms and paces as the phone rings.

The voice that picks up is low, quiet, and familiar; the priest is as soft-spoken in person as he was on the television.  “Good evening?”

“Am I speaking to Orsino Veronesi?” Val keeps his voice calm despite his nerves. This plan is a gamble, but a risk he is willing to take.

“You are,” the priest replies slowly, “who is calling?  And how did you get this number?”

“I’m a concerned friend of Stella di Presagio’s,” Val answers smoothly.  “And you’d be amazed what you can find on the internet.”

The priest hums.  “I am consistently amazed by that, yes.  Does this concerned friend have a name?”

As loathe as he is to give up advantages, Val learned from the meeting with Foreman McFarrell that it is best to give out a name.  So he sighs inwardly and replies, “Valentin de Rosa.  Perhaps you’ve heard of me?”

Orsino hums again, in surprise instead of annoyance this time.  “Yes, I have.  So, what can I do for you, Mister de Rosa?”

The moment of truth:  “I know that Stella is with you, and I want to be sure she’s okay.  I would like a meeting.  Shall we have tea?”

Orsino is quiet for a moment, then replies, “When?”

Val nearly draws back from the phone in surprise.  “Tomorrow morning?”

He hears a chuckle on the other end.  “Lucky for you, my service just got out, and I won’t be obliged to attend the Sunday morning one.  Ten o’clock should work fine, shouldn’t it?”

“Yes, that should do.”

“Where?”

Now Val is suspicious; his target is being shockingly cooperative.  He thinks for a moment, then replies, “You know La Tazza D’Oro?”

“I know it.  I’ll see you there.”

“Before you go,” Val interjects, “I’d hoped Stella would be able to join us?”

“Unfortunately,” the priest hedges, “Miss di Presagio is not in a position to leave at this time.  But if you wish, I can arrange a way to speak with her.”

“What do you mean, she isn’t in a position to leave?”  Val demands, perhaps a bit more sharply than he intended.

“In the situation that we’re in,” Veronesi says, “things happen.  We can discuss this tomorrow.”

“Very well,” Val grumbles.

“But before you go… She will be well pleased to know that someone is worried about her.”  Veronesi pauses for a moment, then asks, “Are there any other regards to pass along?”

Val narrows his eyes.  “She will know whose regards are being passed along.  I’ll see you tomorrow.”  And he hangs up.

***

After Val announces his established meeting with the priest, there is another round of argument between the Masters concerning the wisdom of the idea.  In the meanwhile, Caster taps Assassin and Lancer on the arm and motions them to follow him back to one of the rooms.

Once alone, he turns to them and asks very seriously, “So, who wants to impersonate a god for this meeting?”

Lancer raises an eyebrow.  “To what end?”

Assassin grins, for once whole-heartedly behind Caster’s plan. “What better guise is there when one is going to meet a priest?”

Lancer hums in thought, then asks, “Your power:  it is shape-shifting, or simply illusion?”

“I can do both,” Caster tells her.

“Does it persist through becoming incorporeal?”

“It does for me,” Caster replies with a shrug, “but for everyone else, I cannot say.”

Lancer holds out her hand.  “Try it.”

Assassin startles at this blatant display of trust, but Caster simply taps Lancer’s outstretched palm with his fingers.  In an instant, she is transfigured into the form of her Master. She gasps sharply and turns her hands over and over, examining them closely.  “Ah, it really is shape-shifting.”  She relinquishes her physical form for her spirit one, and is back in an instant; the new shape does persist through the change.  “Alright, this is strange.  Please remove it.”

Caster laughs and acquiesces.  Lancer seems to think for a moment, then says, “As entertaining as it would be to feign godhood for a day, I believe that neither Siobhan nor I should come along on this adventure.  Nor should Jim, for that matter.  If the priest is a Master, as Archer suggests, then he will be able to sense the presence of other Masters.  I can’t imagine that you would want to leave your Master there without backup,” she addresses Caster, “and I do not want to leave mine here without a guard.”

Caster is disappointed that his grand plan has been dismissed, but he nods; it is at least a sensible objection.  “It’s just as well.  Val would probably wish to go alone to keep up the appearance of good faith.”

“I could go with you, though,” Assassin tells him.  “I trust Lancer not to murder Jim while we’re away.  Unless,” she turns to Lancer, “you would like some backup here in case something goes wrong with Archer.”

“No,” Lancer shakes her head.  “If something goes drastically wrong, your Master can call you with a Command.”

With that matter settled, they all retire for the night.

***

At 8:30 Sunday morning, Assassin and Caster slip into the room where Archer sleeps. He has neither faded away during the night nor does he appear to be doing much better.  His leg injury has started to heal, but it is nowhere near the rate that the other Servants experienced.

Assassin very carefully reaches out to poke Archer awake.  It takes a surprising amount of force and persistence before the knight stirs.

“Mmmwhat,” comes the grumble into the pillow.

“I know that you are tired,” Assassin tells him, “but this one is not my fault.  I have confirmed that my magic is out of your system.  Your leg is healing, but not at the rate that it should.  You are still bleeding mana.”

That gets Archer to roll over and slowly sit up.  His hair is disheveled and there are prominent bags beneath his eyes. “This is how it ends, huh?”

Assassin slaps his arm sharply before she can think better of it. Archer bristles, but says nothing in response.  “Do not start with me!  We’re in here to make sure that you can remain manifested in this world.”

Archer turns a wary eye to both of his captors, doubtless trying to discern what methods they may have in mind.  His expression grows even more distrustful when Caster continues, “I’ll share some mana with you to keep you on your feet, until we can determine what happened to Stella.”

Archer is silent for a moment, then asks, “You want to make a contract with me?”

Caster shrugs.  “Nothing so complex as a Master-Servant bond, but in essence, yes.  It will allow me to pass mana to you and monitor your status in case I need to pass more.”

“Why are you giving me this chance?” Archer asks flatly.

Assassin and Caster share a glance before Assassin replies, “We have reason to believe that the Holy Grail is not what we were told at our summoning, and that it reaching completion would spell disaster.  If you die, you feed it; we do not want that.  Besides, there is no reason to lose a potential ally if saving him is within our power.”

Archer still looks suspicious, but nods in agreement, turning to face them both. “Fine.  Do whatever you must.”

Caster places a hand on Archer’s chest, just over his heart.  It seems to be the most appropriate way to start the connection.  For a moment, Caster’s mana wars with Archer’s magic resistance, but Caster recalls forming his contract with his familiar and tries to shape the approach in the same way.

The change is instantaneous; Archer’s complexion returns to normal and he breathes easier than before.  He pushes Caster’s hand away and shudders.  “That is a strange feeling.”

“Believe me, the revulsion is mutual,” Caster replies coolly.  “But now I will be able to sense if you flag and send you mana if you need it.  Attack my allies or try to use your Noble Phantasm, and I will cut you off. Understood?”

Archer glares at him, but nods sharply.

VIII. Meeting With an Executor

While Siobhan, Lancer, and Jim remain at the safe house, Val heads off to the coffee shop with Caster and Assassin in invisible tow.  Assassin locates a discreet spot to place herself where she can watch the window at the front of the coffee shop; a restaurant across the street with outdoor seating does the trick nicely.  Meanwhile, Caster has assumed a new form and remains in spirit form as he follows Val into the shop.

Orsino Veronesi is seated at the front of the shop, visible through the large window at the front.  Today he is dressed in a purple polo shirt and black slacks, much more casual attire than the full priest garb he wore on television.  In his hand is a cup of tea larger than any of them thought the shop sold.

As Val enters the shop, he senses the mild tinge of pain from another Command Seal’s presence.  He catches Orsino’s eye and nods to him, waiting for the polite nod in return before getting into line to place his order.  He silently asks Caster if he senses any Servants, and Caster responds in the negative.  Of course, neither would Caster’s presence be apparent to another Servants while he is incorporeal.

A cup of coffee in hand, Val seats himself across the table from Orsino. “Mister Veronesi, it’s good to see you at this fine hour.”

“You’re cheating,” the priest deadpans, before breaking into a teasing smile at Val’s surprise.  “You ordered coffee.”

Val smiles back.  The priest sets his tea down on the table and rolls up his glove to discreetly reveal his Command Seal, three perfectly intact red curves.  Val does the same, revealing his own intact Command Seal:  they are on the same level.

Orsino chuckles softly.  “I had to make sure.  Can you tell I don’t get out very often?”

“I wouldn’t expect a Vatican man to get out much at all,” Val tells him.  “Besides, you’re retired, aren’t you?”

Orsino studies him, for a moment, “What is a rock star doing in this War?���

“What’s an Executor doing in it?”  Val shoots back.

“We’re not here to talk about me,” Orsino deflects.  “Nor are we here to talk about you, exactly.  You wanted to know about Stella.  She is well.  She is perhaps better than could be expected.  Why are you concerned about her?”  He pauses, then adds, “She does not have many friends.”

“She is a friend,” Val insists, “and furthermore, an ally.  I want to protect my allies.  Surely someone who is supposed to be a man of God must understand morality?”

“Of course,” the priest nods.  “Which is the source of my concern.  She came to me for protection.  I’m not inclined to give excessive details without some credentials.”

“You’ve seen some of my credentials.”  Val motions to his hand.

“You might be another victim of the War, or you might be an instigator.”

“I don’t anything to do with the setup,” Val insists.  “And I hadn’t met Stella before the War.  I sought her assistance in fighting an instigator.  She never arrived.  It turns out she was in your – apparently capable – hands.”

Orsino lifts his hand and traces an unfamiliar symbol in the air in front of Val.  When nothing occurs and Val looks at him with concern, Orsino nods in something like an apology.  “I had to ensure that you weren’t – well, not you.”  He sighs heavily and tells Val, “I became involved in the War after a certain item was delivered to the Vatican.  I had been called in for circumstances that I thought were unrelated. It turns out that they suspected a War was happening and called a lot of Executors out of retirement, to my surprise. I truly believe that it was happenstance that I was there in the courtyard when the item was delivered. Nevertheless, it came to pass that I looked upon the contents of the box, then this appeared,” he motions to his own hand, “and the next thing I know, I was handed a summoning ritual and instructions.  Because I needed another one of those in my life.”

“Another?”

“Yes,” the priest says dismissively.  “Rest assured that I did not want to be here.  I was on a very nice vacation in the Bahamas when I was recalled.”

“Do you want to tell me what was in that box?” Val asks.

“No.  But now I’ve told you how I’m connected to the War.  Would you like to give me your story?”

Val thinks for a moment, formulating his terms carefully. Finally, he settles on, “The Sea of Estray is connected to many things.”

Orsino nods.  “I know that Atlas sent some investigators, but what happened to them, I’m not sure. Did Estray send you?”

“Yes,” Val lies.  “Estray is why I’m involved, and I know Rome rather intimately because of my family. The whole thing seems like people keep winding up in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Orsino nods sadly.  “That matches my admittedly limited observations as well.  I summoned my Servant rather late, it seems, and besides meeting with you just now, Stella is the only other Master who I have met. That was also the first time that we had left the Vatican as a team.”

Val lets his surprise show on his face.  “But Servants can’t exist in the Vatican, can they?”

“There appears to be an exception for ones that were summoned there,” Orsino replies.

“The boundary field doesn’t keep him in?”

Orsino shakes his head.  “He can go in and out whenever he wishes.  The night that I met Stella, I wasn’t exactly looking for her.  Rightly, I went to whoever I could run into, whoever God could lead me to.  I went out to see if I could fund anyone who was willing to speak with me that did not involve, well, coming to blows immediately.  I suppose I was lucky to run into Stella.”

“And Stella chose to come with you?”

“I was surprised as well.”

Val narrows his eyes, clearly unconvinced.  “Entirely of her own will?  I find that hard to believe.”

“Do you know about why and how she got involved in the War?”

“Of course,” Val nods, although he only has a vague idea.

It is Orsino’s turn to narrow his eyes.  “Are you truly a friend to her?”  He sits forward, leaning in close to Val, who holds his gaze without fear. “Because if you mean her any harm,” and here the priest’s eyes flash briefly golden, “I will kill you where you sit.”

“Caster?!”  Val hisses silently.  “What was that?!”

Caster makes a surprised noise in Val’s mind.  “A display of power.  Golden eyes are the sign of a backseat driver of some sort.  Didn’t your research suggest that the Vatican retired him out of concern that he had made an inappropriate contract?”

Instead of responding to Caster, Val nods to Orsino.  “The feeling is mutual, Executor.  I want the best for Stella, and I’m not convinced that you’re it.”

Seemingly satisfied with this response, Orsino sits back and takes another sip of his tea.  “I know that Stella was coerced into joining the War.  I am know reasonably confident that the coercer is not you.”

“Your concern mirrors my own.  How can I be sure that you are not the coercer?  You clearly have something going on.”  Val motions to the priest’s eyes.

Orsino chuckles.  “I am under an influence, shall we say, but not of the man who has contracted with Stella. I have not met this Vasilyevich, and frankly, God help him if we ever do meet.”

Val smiles in satisfaction.  “You’ve given me confidence, Executor.  I know enough about the restrictions that influenced Stella to understand the significance of your ability to give his name.”

“Luckily, Stella no longer has to worry about those restrictions. I was able to break the geis.”

Again, Val allows himself to look surprised.  “Well, that saves me a bit of work.”

“You can do it, too?” Orsino asks, also surprised.  “I thought it was just an Executor thing.”  He thinks for a moment, then allows, “Perhaps you would like to see her for yourself.  If you trust me enough to follow me back to the Vatican, that is.”

“May I bring an ally along?”  Val asks.  “Another friend to Stella?”

Orsino nods.  “As long as it is someone who can enter the holy ground.  Why don’t we meet up nearby?”

He pulls out his phone and finds an intersection about a block from the front entrance, which Val knows to be in clear public view.  They agree to meet up about noon, and before they part, Orsino says, “We will meet you there.”

“Is your backseat driver coming along?” Val inquires.

Orsino gives an amused smile.  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard him called that before.”

They part ways; Val walks vaguely in the direction of the safe house while Caster follows Orsino to make sure he does not trail Val himself. The priest heads straight to his car, parked a few blocks away, and then drives as directly to the Vatican as one can drive in a city made of one-way streets.  There remains no sense of another Servant’s presence, although Caster notes to Val that the Servant could be incorporeal.

***

Back at the safe house, Jim gets a text from Val asking him to check in with Granny Gertrude about any Atlas investigators that may have been sent to learn about the War.  He does so, but Granny says that she is too far out of the loop to know much about the organization’s current actions.

“You wouldn’t happen to be familiar with someone named Stella di Presagio, would you?” he asks, figuring it to be a long shot.

To his surprise, Granny gets back to him quickly:  “Ooh, I do know Stella!  Wonderful with spatial manipulation, I believe.  The poor dear lost her family 15 years back.  Or maybe it was 10.  Ooh, I don’t really remember, dear, but I do know she was a lovely person!”

Jim thanks Granny for the information and receives a long string of hearts and smiley faces in return, half of which his brick of a cell phone does not properly render.

[bisclavret]

#mordred asking for lancelot's freedom and pardon feels like a fever dream#also gawain allying with him makes me go WHAT IF.... WHAT IF THIS DID HAPPEN#bc with gawain it's always choose arthur or your family and he always chooses arthur#but what if.... one time he did not would make a great retelling @orkneyism

i keep coming back to this post. what IF......

mordred died for gay rights?