The lowest levels of the upper city were hardly a place for a person to be- the perfect place for a rat to hide.

Arthur looked up from where him and Lancelot's most trusted squad of police were stationed, just barely able to make out the minuscule sliver of the moon through the complex canopy of buildings, pipes and wires. The adrenaline of possibly putting an end to his ten-year-long nightmare had worn off, and he felt exhausted under the weight of the body armor he wore.

Just beyond was- or, at least, what was on record to be- an abandoned storage facility, tucked away in the levels of the upper city that rubbed uncomfortable shoulders with the lower city just below, dedicated to a maze-like industrial grid that sustained both cities it was sandwiched between. They'd been staking the place out for hours, long into the night, and had been monitoring the place for days before.

"Our informant was more than positive, this is one of the major hubs that Ruber has been operating out of- right under our noses," Galahad informed the others, hand poised on his sword, Clarent. "Even if we don't find him here, if we capture this place, we'll be cutting off a major link in his supply chain."

"The sooner we get this done and over with the better- I hate having to lurk around this close to the lower city," Lancelot commented, hand glancing over his nose, and briefly covering his face with his trusty shield, Pridwen. "I can't stand the smell that rises out of that pit."

Even after so long, it still struck Arthur as such an odd sight, to be surrounded by men armed to the teeth, and have someone among them holding much more archaic weapons with just as much confidence. He was hardly one to judge, though, being one of those few himself with a sword strapped to his back- and he knew full well that those weapons weren't just any old relic forged from regular steal. In the hands of who he trusted to wield them, they could be more deadly than any of the firearms Lancelot's men brought along.

"It's a shame Guinevere couldn't be here- Galehaut has his reasons, reelection coming up and all, but I'm sure she would have appreciated the satisfaction of finally sticking it to Ruber," Galahad mentioned.

"You know how she is, Galahad..." Arthur sighed, turning his attention away from the skyline. "She doesn't like going out when it's dark anymore."

"Sir," one of the men out of their ranks spoke up, drawing their attention. "We still have not seen any activity outside the building- no one has come in or out since we've arrived. If we wait much longer, we'll risk being seen, and this entire operation could go to waste."

"You're right, we can't just keep sitting around waiting for this deal to be any sweeter," Arthur agreed, rising to his feet. "It's time to put an end to this."

"Alpha, Beta, and Charlie team will cover the side and rear exits of the building- if anyone is inside, they aren't getting out. Us three will go in through the front," Lancelot immediately began giving orders, checking his own pistol before stowing away back into its holster. "And, if we're lucky enough to find the asshole, himself, in there... you have my permission to shoot without mercy. He still has Carnwennan, if he's given even the slightest chance, he'll use it to slip out of our grasp- again."

"And, if we find anyone else, sir?" One of the others asked.

Lancelot only took a second to think before he answered, a chilling tone in his voice.

"They made their choice when they sided with the wrong man. If you have the chance to strike first... take it."

"Hey, don't you think that's a little extreme?" Galahad couldn't help but ask, a bit of his confidence waning in the face of a potential bloodbath.

"Extreme is the amount of my own men Ruber has killed these passed ten years," Lancelot scowled. "If you'd been in my shoes at all this entire time, you'd understand mercy stopped being an option ages ago."

Clearly not completely convinced, Galahad looked to Arthur, who caught the pleading look in his eyes. But, what was he meant to do, tell Lancelot and his men, who had been struggling against Ruber's schemes ever since Lionel's death, not to take all the losses they had suffered at his hands personally? He couldn't find the strength within him to even consider it, having dealt with the crushing loss of his closest friend and not being able to avenge him for what was soon to be a decade. Those years, while the crime empire that supported Ruber grew like a tumor within the lower city, had changed Arthur to the point of no return, and now there was no other way but through, potential body count be damned.

"If you're morally opposed, no one is forcing you to stay," he said with a shake of his head. "You came on your own accord, and you can leave just as easily."

Lancelot motioned for the group to move out without a word, and his squad quickly and quietly mobilized, snaking their way through the shadows and into position. Just as well, he and Arthur ducked around the corner towards the building just as silent, with Galahad begrudgingly bringing up the rear.

The unit had clearly been abandoned by its original owners years ago, the outside of the building starting to crumble and warp from decay and disrepair. Aside from a wire fence that was rusted away enough to simply walk right on through, and a cheap padlock on the door, there was an utter lack of security. Maybe it was all apart of a tactic to keep from drawing attention, but with scrappers so daringly rampant in that level of the city, the fact there wasn't hardly even a camera in sight was surprising.

Arthur looked around the abandoned yard, unable to shrug off a chilling sense of unease, even though they had double, triple and quadruple checked their informant's claims. Something about this place felt off, or so his gut was screaming at him.

Before he could think any deeper about it, however, a loud bang interrupted his thoughts, pulling his attention back to the door, which Lancelot had kicked in. The padlock and chain, probably the newest thing on the outside of the building, had held, but the withering, rusty hinges the door had been clinging to had not, leaving it to awkwardly swing in the opposite way it was meant to before falling crooked onto the floor inside.

"Shit! Lancelot-" Galahad gasped, instinctively clutching the hilt of his sword, as if he expected them to be rushed immediately.

"Knock knock..." Lancelot said with a tone so casual, it was almost mocking, as he stepped over the fallen door with his gun drawn.

"Idiot, if anybody hears you-"

"Let the cockroaches scatter for all I care," Lancelot growled. "They'll be hunted down all the same."

Arthur stepped in after him, seeing no point in wasting any time getting upset, and expecting Galahad to cover his rear. He swallowed his feelings of uncertainty, now with no way to turn back, as the three of them plunged into the darkness.

The facility was just one, large, open room, with metal walkways stretching around the perimeter and across the length of the building, but no, real second floor to speak of. The place was packed with old storage crates, creating a labyrinthine effect with how they were arranged. Just like the outside, it looked like the inside of the building was falling apart at the seams as well. The air smelled of rust, mold and was thick with dust that felt like it coated the inside of Arthur's mouth and throat with a single breath.

He didn't want to say it, as they quietly crept through the dark, but it was as if not a single soul had walked through the facility for years.

"... Do you really think this place is one of Ruber's-" Galahad, who seemed to be picking up on the same vibes as Arthur, began to comment.

"Shh!" Lancelot hissed sharply, pressing himself up against one of the crates and motioning for the two of them to do the same.

Pinning themselves against the metal, Arthur could just barely hear the soft sound of footsteps scuffing against the dirt floor, drawing closer and closer. Lancelot turned to them with a harsh frown and a serious look in his eyes as he jerked his head in the direction of the noise. Galahad drew his sword completely from its scabbard, but Arthur, decidedly, kept his weapon sheathed.

With a sharp intake of breath through his clenched teeth, Lancelot whipped himself around the corner, gun pointed forward and finger twitching against the trigger. Much to all of their surprises, though, he was met with a chorus of familiar voices shouting over one another.

"Don't shoot! Don't shoot!"

"It's Lancelot, don't shoot!"

"Chief, it's us! Put your weapon down!"

"Fuck!" Lancelot snapped, lowering his weapon with a frustrated jerk of his arms. "What are you doing, you're all supposed to be covering the exits!"

"We we're, but we heard a crash, sir," one of them explained. "We still have men positioned outside, but..."

"No one on our end!" A voice could be heard shouting over the storage crates.

"We're clear over here, too!" A different team called back, followed by the glow of flashlights bouncing off the rusting walls and broken windows, illuminating the dark.

"There's really no one here..." Arthur muttered under his breath, the nervous feeling in his gut returning.

"Bullshit! This doesn't make any sense!" Lancelot roared as he stomped over to one of the crates. "If this place is so goddamn important, why isn't anyone around!"

"Lancelot, hold on!" Galahad called, but his words went ignored as Lancelot furiously turned the crank that held the the crate closed, and threw the heavy metal door open with a bellow that echoed back at him, amplified from the inside.

For a moment he stood panting, shoulders rising and falling dramatically with each breath as he stared into the darkness of the storage crate. His anger seemed to fizzle to nothing as he stood at the threshold, and one by one, the others looked inside, shining flashlights to reveal a completely hollow interior. The only thing that occupied the space at all was Lancelot's shadow, that stretched all the way to the back of the crate.

"I-It's empty..." Galahad muttered in surprise.

"There's... nothing here..." Lancelot's words started as a low growl, but instantly reached a fever pitch as he threw his gun down in a rage. "We were fucking set up!"

No sooner had he shouted than a deafening crash came from directly overhead. Chunks of stone and sheets of metal rained down onto the ground below, kicking up years of dirt and dust into a thick, choking cloud. Galahad was almost instantly on Arthur, shielding him from falling debris as everyone shouted in surprise and confusion, only adding to the chaos. Through the haze, he could see something else plunge down from the ceiling- something impossibly massive that couldn't have possibly been just another chunk out of the roof. It rested on top of the metal crates, which groaned and squealed under what could only be an incredible amount of weight.

In what remained of the clearing dust cloud, Arthur caught the terrifying sight of two, bright-green eyes, piercing through the darkness .

A shriek that left the air ringing tore through the brief moment of silence, accompanied by a gust that cleared away the dust cloud and caused the remains of the ceiling and the deteriorating walls to rattle and shake. Arthur was forced to shut it eyes for a moment, but in the time it took to open them again, the sounds of his men screaming and shouting in fear had already filled his ears. Gasping, he looked up just in time to see a creature looming right overhead, one of members of the squad clenched in what looked to be a sharp beak. With a violent jerk of its head, the monster let him fly free through the air, his shriek only lasting a moment before his body struck the wall with a sickening, wet thwack. Several more of their ranks became unfortunately crushed beneath a paw that completely dwarfed them, with survivors having their bodies easily torn to shreds through their body armor by knife-like claws.

"Is that a fucking griffin!?" Lancelot shouted.

"That's impossible! Magical creatures don't stray this far from Avalon!" Galahad cried out, a shudder running through his body as the beast turned to look directly at him. "Shit, this can't be happening!"

The sound of guns firing distracted the griffin, much to their relief, the remaining squad that it hadn't already decimated unloading as many rounds as they could. It cried out, flinching and stumbling only slightly, the claws of its feet digging into the metal of the crates it still balanced on- but it was very quick to go on the violent offensive. Its hefty plumage and more-than-likely thick hide beneath stood as defense enough against mere bullets, as it easily plowed through, the element of surprise now long gone and leaving nothing for the men still desperately firing their weapons to rely on. The griffin tore into them, tearing them apart with both beak and talons- a sight that Arthur, thankfully, couldn't quite see, but he could absolutely hear. Every death cry and agonized, desperate scream for help seemed to echo in just the right way that they dug right into him.

Arthur Pendragon, the man who they had looked to to lead them- the man they had put their faith in- could do nothing.

"We need to get the fuck out of here!" Lancelot snapped.

"But, the others-" Arthur managed to speak up, but was unable to hide his very obvious fear which stole whatever strength his words could have carried.

"There's nothing we can do for them, they can only serve us as a distraction now!" He said urgently, pulling Arthur onto his feet.

"Arthur's right, we have to stay and fight!" Galahad argued, standing up to his senior, albeit with difficulty. The hand that gripped his sword was clearly shaking.

"You can't be serious..." Lancelot looked at the both of them like they had just spoken nothing but madness, before turning back to the griffin, who was still dealing with his men. "Fine, stay here and die for all I care. Ruber probably expects you to go out like an idiot hero here anyway, but I won't give him the satisfaction!"

With a rough shove, Lancelot pushed passed Galahad, and eyed Arthur with a withering glare as he passed.

"Lancelot!"

"Forget about him, sir, we're better off without him!" Galahad snarled. "Now, come on, before that thing-"

Before he could even finish, the beasts long, rope-like tail whipped out from his blind spot, colliding with his arm and side and sending him flying into the nearby open crate. In a flash, Arthur stood alone, disoriented from the sudden rush of unfortunate events. He stutter stepped in multiple directions- towards what hopefully remained of the squad, to see if Galahad was alright... to join Lancelot in retreating- and the mishandling of those precious, few seconds proved damning, as the griffin lurched around and turned its attention back towards him.

Blood now tricked down its beak and stained the feathers around its face and feet. Aside from looking a little more ruffled, and its breath sounding much more labored than before, it seemed perfectly fine, more than ready to take on one last, solitary man. With a jerk of its head, and a stomach-churning hacking noise, it spit up a single, severed arm, covered in both blood and slimy, stringy saliva.

"You don't scare me..." Arthur attempted to snarl as he stood his ground and looked the creature right in its glowing, green eyes. "All you've done is give me more than enough incentive to strike you down."

Much to his surprise, the beast seemed to understand, and made a chuffing noise that sounded almost like human laughter, as its shoulders shook rhythmically. Arthur dared not react, swallowing his fear and forcing a shiver from making its way up his spine. He could only hope it couldn't smell his fear, or read it in his eyes.

"I've faced much more deadly foes to get where I am today! Every moment of my life, I've prepared to fight monsters like you!" He continued, hoping to distract the creature with words as he slowly, carefully reached behind him, where he kept his sword still in its scabbard. "I'm a Pendragon, dammit, and we don't bow to any man or beast!"

"Pendragon..." Arthur could not do anything to contain his shock as the griffin spoke, its bloody beak parting to make way for a deep, feminine-sounding voice. "That name... is nothing but a facade."

"What-!" He gasped, with no chance to say another word, or even take a single breath, before the creature lunged forward with a speed he didn't expect. He felt the white-hot agony of his arm getting torn right through, as fresh blood splattered against his face. In an instant, he was knocked onto his back, in so much pain he couldn't even breath- only croak and moan as he caught sight of the griffin rearing its head back, the sword once fastened to his back now clenched in its beak.

"N-no!" A gasp clawed its way out of his throat as he grasped his bloody and broken arm that was, thank god, still attached after such a vicious attack. Vision reeling and legs threatening to buckle under the weight of his own body, Arthur forced himself to stand. However, once he righted himself, all he could do was feebly brace himself as the griffin flapped its mighty wings and took to the air, kicking up dust and blood that covered the floor of the facility. Through the hole in the ceiling it had made, the beast escaped, the sword in its clutches.

There was nothing he could do- everyone that could help him was either dead, incapacitated, or unfortunately absent. What could he do, by himself, without his sword...?

His sword...

Arthur fell to his knees, energy flowing out of him like the blood from his arm. With that sword no longer in his care, his troubles were only just beginning. It wasn't just a powerful weapon the griffin had made off with, but a ten-year-old lie that was sure to come back to destroy him.

Juliana couldn't bring herself to sleep a wink that night. Normally, after returning home from an incredibly long shift at the hospital, it would take all she had not to give up and just take a nap on the steps to her room. However, that night, she couldn't even relax enough to sit down, as she paced the ground floor of her home with a mug of tea that had grown cold long ago. Something felt wrong, even though there wasn't even a chair pulled out of place, and even though the heat of the coming summer hung in the night air, a chill came over her that she couldn't shake.

It all made her incredibly aware of how alone she was- the only person in a home meant for a family and then some. It was a place that made her feel small on days when her mental fortitude was run ragged by work, but that night especially made her feel isolated. Tonight, even armed with Arthur's phone number that he promised her she could call at any hour and get a response, she felt cut off... forced to face what was nagging at her by herself.

"So late..." She sighed, setting down her hardly touched tea on the counter of the kitchen. "But, even if it wasn't, it's still incredibly rude to enter someone's home without permission."

In a flash, she grabbed a knife that had been resting in the sink and ducked out of the way just in time to avoid getting struck by a nightstick that had been swung at her from behind. Without a hint of hesitation, she gripped the knife tightly in her hand and instinctively went for the throat of her assailant. Caught off guard, her attack in response went un-countered, and the blade dug deep into the neck of the strange intruder: a person decked out in full, black riot gear, with even a mask covering their face.

"It was quite foolish of you to not pay attention to the wards I set up outside," she snarled, giving the knife a twist. Her attacker shuddered, but didn't make a sound. "But, your biggest mistake was deciding to break into my home in the first place."

With a grunt, she pulled the knife free, before reaching around to throw it behind her, where it sailed through the air before it buried itself right between the eyes of a similarly-dressed person, who fell down limp onto the ground where they stood.

"Who the hell-" Juliana gasped, cut off by the sound of glass breaking from upstairs, followed shortly by the much larger noise of her front door being forced open. She hurried out of the kitchen, just in time to see even more armored intruders rush inside, this time armed with guns, proving themselves much more of a threat than the first two.

However, Juliana was just as much a threat, despite being all on her own.

"You picked the wrong woman to fuck with!" She snapped, before muttering a quick incantation under her breath.

Such a small, easy spell wouldn't turn many heads of those who were familiar with the craft, but for foolish home intruders with their fingers on triggers, it was more than enough. With a quick, flick of her wrist and a snap of her fingers, the first wave of intruders suddenly burst into flames. They fell to the ground, giving in to the searing heat almost instantly, being fried alive inside their layers of body armor. With a huff, Juliana turned around and made sure to do the same to the group who were just then starting down the stairs.

"Come on, then, if there's more of you where that came from," she panted, the palms of her hands glowing a brilliant orange, "I could do this all night!"

Unfortunately, the moment those confident words left her mouth, she felt something strike her at the base of her skull, making her see stars and forcing her to lose concentration. The brilliant flames she had summoned whiffed out of existence, leaving behind charred corpses, as she fell to her knees with an agonized groan. Loss of consciousness only graced her for a brief, disorienting second, before she was pulled back into being aware of her surroundings again by someone roughly yanking on her long, brown hair she had tied back behind her head.

"A-augh!" She cried out as her head was forced back, making way for a knife to be pressed against her throat. She wasn't left with much room to turn and look to see who had snuck up behind her, but it was enough of a glimpse to recognize the remains of a knife wound in their mask- the same knife now behind held to her throat. Just behind the mask, she could see a sickly-green glow that answered any questioned she might have had: she recognized dark magic when she saw it.

"Avalonian sorceresses really are a force to be reckoned with," a voice came from the direction on her destroyed front door. "Luckily, I'm not much of a pushover these days, myself."

"Ruber!" Juliana growled with as much venom as she could muster, as the hideous behemoth of a man crossed over the threshold into her home.

"Juliana, it's been far too long," he chuckled, seeming to take an incredible amount of pleasure in her clear and obvious hatred. "Perhaps, it's a bit too late to offer my condolences about your husbands... unfortunate passing."

"Fuck you!" She spat, struggling against her captor, only to have them jerk her by the hair again and force her onto her feet, where a second pair of hands grasped her by the wrists and further restrained her. "What the hell do you want!?"

"Oh, I want plenty: The Holy Grail, the magic of all of Avalon at my fingertips, Pendragon's head served to me on a platter..." Ruber listed off in a twistedly gleeful way, before he drew in closer and ran a finger along her cheek in a way that nearly made her gag. "At the moment, though, as far as what I want from you..."

His finger lingered right near her lips that quivered in response- right before she attempted to bite him, of course. He quickly drew back his hand- one, small bit of relief for her before the knife at her throat was pressed ever closer, and the grip around her wrists tightened in a painful way.

"You're lucky I respected your husband enough, back when he was alive, not to harm you. Plus, you'll be of greater use to me in one piece." His words were assuring, but only on the surface. The sickening smirk on his lips robbed them of any good will they could have had. "But, I didn't come here just for you."

He looked down at his feet, just as the burned bodies of his henchmen jerked and spasmed, the ashes of their remains returning to their bodies and making them whole again. They rose unnaturally, bodies bending in ways the human form couldn't possibly, before they righted themselves as if nothing had even happened. All of them had the same green glow in their eyes that Juliana had seen before, all of them staring aimlessly forward.

"Search the house, don't leave a single stone unturned!" Ruber commanded. They obeyed him without a word, shambling passed Juliana and further into her home.

"What could you possibly be looking for?" She asked him.

"You know damn well what I'm looking for," he said, eyes tracing around the entryway. "Pendragon trusted each of his closest friends with the legendary weapons his family collected, and all of them have been accounted for... save for one: the one meant to have been entrusted to your husband, the legendary sword, Caliburn."

"It's not here." Juliana said through a harsh frown.

"Do you really think I'm that much of a fool? There's no one else in Pendragons's exclusive circle of idiots who he would dare give something so important to, and with Lionel nothing but a rotting corpse in the ground, you were the next, best possible option," He explained, pacing around the room as he spoke. "Don't think we haven't been tracking the obscene amounts of cash that imbecile wires to you. Even as an apology for letting your husband throw his life away for him, it's far too much- and it's not like you're not already more than well off without it. I know bribe money when I see it."

Juliana kept her mouth tightly shut, following Ruber with her eyes. There was nothing more she could say, or, more accurately, nothing more she wanted to say. For all she knew, every word she let slip only fed into whatever he had planned.

"With or without your help, I will take what is rightfully mine." Ruber stopped in front of her, his smirk slipping slightly into a scowl. "If there's something- anything at all- to be found here, it's not going to stay hidden here for long."

One of his armored goons shambled up to him, drawing his attention with a hiss, and a whisper much too quiet and mumbled for Juliana to hear. But, whatever it was, it brought a smile to Ruber's face, as a chuckle passed through his teeth.

"Speaking of things that are rightfully mine..." He said, looking out the broken-down door and into the dark of the night. Juliana did the same, as a massive wave of unease gripped her, from the top of her head, to the tips of her toes, with such an intensity she found it difficult to breath. It even felt as if the temperature itself dropped drastically, as an icy wind blew through the door.

"She has... arrived..." A whisper passed through the lips of the two who were holding her captive, one after the other, the same phrase repeating itself over and over again as every single one of the armed intruders passed it along, like a soft wave washing over the entire house.

"Hold her here until I return!" Ruber gave his commands as left without any further explanation, stepping through the door and out into the darkness.

Being a residence located on the highest levels of the upper city, the home Juliana occupied was left with plenty of space, including an impressively large lawn that was the perfect spot for Ruber's companion to make their landing. As he stepped out, he witnessed as all lights from nearby flickered, before going out completely, leaving the surrounding area bathed in darkness. The shoddy light of the moon was all he had, as an imposingly large figure dropped down from the sky and landed with elegance, despite their size, just barely avoiding crushing him beneath their clawed feet. Despite this, and the powerful wind picked up by a single, final flap it their wings, Ruber hardly even flinched.

"Were you successful?" He asked, as the beast before him turned their head in his direction, looking down at him with eyes that easily out-shown the moon and stars.

"Was I successful?" The creature scoffed, rolling their eyes before tossing back their head and giving their feathers a thorough shake. What followed was almost like a dance, the body of the beast changing with each unheard beat. Before long, a griffin no longer loomed over Ruber, and in their place was Morgan, smirking at him through the hair hanging in her face as she circled around him one last time. "What a stupid question to ask."

She presented a sword, still tucked inside its scabbard, but even that was familiar enough.

"Excalibur..." Ruber couldn't help but utter, fingers twitching at the mere prospect of finally being able to hold it in his hands. "After years of waiting, it's finally mine-"

He reached out to take it, but Morgan nimbly stepped backward and held the sword out of his reach, slipping it behind her back as she returned to circling around him, like some sort of vulture.

"Now, now, don't you think you're forgetting something?" She asked in a scolding tone. There was a playfully mocking look in her eyes, as she avoided several more of Ruber's attempts to take the sword from her. "I have invested quite a bit of my own time into this whole scheme, and I risked my own safety going and fetching this sword for you. I don't think it's asking much to expect a little reward...or several."

"Hm, don't think I've been taking your contributions to my plan for granted- I'm not so prideful that I would ignore what you have given me already. And, I'm more than aware of the transactional nature of our relationship..." Ruber smirked, reaching behind him, to where she had waltzed to, grasping her by the waist and forcing her back in front of him- not that she put up much of a fight once she'd been caught. She even closed what little distance was left between them, keeping the sword still held behind her back as their hips brushed against one another. "Trust me, I intend to pay you back in full-"

He reached up, running his jagged nails against her cheek. She reacted positively to this, as her eyes fluttered closed and a pleased moan vibrated up from her throat.

"- but, not right this very second."

With her guard lowered just enough, Ruber reached passed her face and over her shoulder, grabbing the sword by the hilt and pulling it free, leaving Morgan holding only the empty scabbard. She bobbed out of the way to keep from getting sliced by the passing blade, an agitated frown on her face.

"I only wish I had been there to see the look on Pendragon's face when-" He paused, holding the sword aloft in silence before his tone drastically changed, becoming a low, suspicious hiss. "-Is this some kind of joke?"

"What do you mean by some kind of-?" Morgan began to ask, before the blade of the sword was pressed up against her throat, stopping her in her tracks. Slight annoyance turned to anger as she bared her teeth with a snarl. "-Oh, I can't wait to hear you explain what the fuck you think you're doing!"

"Take a good look at the sword, you've got a good enough angle to take in all the details," he instructed coldly. "Maybe then, you can tell me what's wrong with this picture."

"I don't see what-" She growled, but one glance at the sword poised to slice right into her neck was enough. "H-how...?"

"Yes, Morgan, how- as in, how in the literal fuck do you have Caliburn, when I'm here looking for it?" Ruber bit back furiously. "Don't tell me you were tricked!"

"None of this makes any sense, the intel we gathered made it certain Juliana was chosen to look after Caliburn!" Morgan argued, taking a step back, only for Ruber to match her, stride for stride.

"Correction, the intel you gathered- and I believed you!" He shouted. "Forget a reward, I should make you bleed for making a fool out of me!"

"If you so much as try it, you'll be dead where you stand!" She threatened, her eyes pulsing a brilliantly threatening green. "Clearly we've both been duped, so don't go threatening me over something that was just as equally a blunder of yours!"

With a grunt, she managed to shove both Ruber, and the sword held to her throat, away, leaving the both of them to stare one another down in quiet fury that burned with enough intensity to hurt. They both waited for the other to speak, heaving long, heavy breaths.

"Look, we have Carnwennan, and now we have Caliburn, no matter the circumstances, that's two legendary weapons down. Now that we've moved out of the shadows, the rest should follow when Arthur starts sending the rest of his loyal knights to find us. The plan is going to move forward, with or without Excalibur." Morgan finally spoke up with a huff. "In the meantime, let's not lose our heads over a little setback, and try to figure out where to go from here!"

"Where do you suggest we start, then?" Ruber asked, a twinge of annoyance in his voice.

"Hmm..." Morgan grumbled, before slowly turning her gaze towards Juliana's residence. "I'd say we don't have to go very far at all."

"Juliana!"

Juliana looked up from the dining room chair she had been tied to, an ice-cold shiver running up her spine at the same time a boiling anger began to churn her guts- a sensation that left her reeling as none other than Morgan Le Fay stepped through her broken-down door. She greeted her with a smile so cruel and twisted, it could hardly even be considered a smile at all. The tone of her voice was overly friendly and sickeningly sweet, but the look in her eyes and the slight flash of her teeth made it seem like she was one wild impulse away from lunging forward and biting Juliana's head clean off.

The armed intruders that guarded either side of her bowed slightly, as if Morgan were royalty, but Juliana was much less respectful to her latest unwelcome guest.

"I should have known it was you, Morgan. The magic animating these puppets of yours reeks of your twisted spellcraft," she said with nothing short of burning hatred in her eyes.

"Nice place you have here, Juliana, it seems you're doing quite alright for yourself," Morgan made a point to ignore her, looking around the entryway in a sarcastically impressed manner as she approached. "Last I heard anything about you, you were running off and fucking mortals for the thrill of it, like some kind of magical whore, but look at you now. Look at both of us, really, you and I are living examples of how scum always rises to the top."

Juliana responded in the only way that felt appropriate, especially with Morgan as close as she was and her guard dropped so low. With a disgusted glower, she spat a thick glob of saliva that struck Morgan right below one of her eyes with a sickening splat.

Morgan's reaction was surprisingly restrained passed the initial shock of being spat upon. With a long, calming breath, she closed her eyes and furrowed her brow as she wiped away the spit with the back of her hand. A smile remained on her lips, but it was clearly one she struggled to keep as she looked down at Juliana's sopping-wet handiwork smeared against her knuckles. Then, in a furious flash, she struck her across the face with the same hand, nearly with enough force to send Juliana and the chair she was restrained to crashing onto the floor.

"Don't rough her up too much, Morgan, we're going to need her conscious, at least," Ruber, who had entered shortly after her, spoke up.

"Just a little greeting between old friends, don't worry," Morgan sneered, looking down at Juliana, who glared up at her, hair now good and tussled in her face and a vivid drop of blood now streaking from the corner of her lip down her chin.

"I don't know what's more unfortunate: the fact that you would stoop so low that you'd lend your magic to someone like Ruber, or that he'd be stupid and desperate enough to align himself with the most loathed creature in Avalon," Juliana hissed. "I wouldn't be so willing to accuse me of 'fucking mortals for the thrill of it' if I were in your position."

"Enough chit-chat, I didn't come here to be insulted by a sorceress who's better at being a slut than at spellcraft!" Morgan snapped, grabbing a fist full of hair at the top of her head and forcing her to sit back upright. "We came here looking for Caliburn, but it seems that Arthur had taken to running around with it instead, oddly enough."

Juliana gasped, catching a glimpse of the very sword in Ruber's clutches.

"Where... how did you...?" She stammered, the grim reality of Ruber and Moran's plans beginning to click painfully into place.

"I just... dropped in on Arthur while he was out, and took it off his hands," Morgan chuckled. "Unfortunately, that leaves Excalibur unaccounted for, and set our plans back a few, crucial steps. And... unfortunately for you, it seems we'll need a little more- I guess you could say- bait, to get what we were hoping to catch."

"Do whatever you want, Arthur isn't going to bow to your whims so easily," Juliana said with incredible confidence, despite how much it hurt to say. Despite her tone, she lowered her gaze down to the polished wood floor. "I know what I'm worth to Arthur, and it's not more than Excalibur- not even equal to it. You're only wasting your time even considering holding me for ransom."

"You know, for someone you respect so much, you don't do a very good job at painting Arthur as anything other than an asshole." Morgan snarled, as sparks of sickly-green mana began to dance on the tips of her menacingly curled fingers. "Maybe I should kill you, then, to send a message, if keeping you alive is such a waste."

"What the fuck did I just tell you?" Ruber's tone was a warning snarl as he approached Morgan from behind and grasped her tightly by one of her wrists. "Regardless of what she's worth to Pendragon, she's more useful to us alive than as a corpse."

"Or maybe, Carnwennan's curse hasn't drained you of that last shred of guilt you feel about killing her stupid husband," Morgan grumbled in a mocking tone so sharp that Ruber noticeably flinched. The harsh gaze they shared was like watching a silent struggle, with both of them fighting for control over what their next move needed to be.

"... Whatever, if she winds up causing trouble for us, consider it your problem." Surprisingly, Morgan finally relented, jerking her hand roughly out of Ruber's grip. She stepped back, looking around the entryway again, this time narrowing her eyes suspiciously at her surroundings.

"What?" Ruber asked, taking notice.

"I could have sworn..." Morgan muttered, before pulling one of her armored servant's aside. "Tell me, have you found any traces of anyone else living here?"

Her servant gave a whisper that hardly even sounded like words, but Morgan clearly understood.

"Not a soul- are you sure?" She asked, getting more cryptic chatter in return. "Any photographs, old toys, a room a child might occupy?"

Juliana's blood ran cold, feeling like ice shooting up through her veins.

"That's a rumor!" She shouted. "I never had a child, that was just the explanation people came up with for why I never went back to Avalon."

Ruber and Morgan shared a knowing glance, which only succeeded in unnerving Juliana further. She struggled to sit still in her seat, forcing her anxiety down with every ounce of strength she could muster.

"That's interesting... for an outright lie," Ruber laughed. "If you really don't have a kid, how come my resources have already dug up where you've had one hidden away?"

"H-how!?" Juliana cried. "Arthur promised me that she would be-"

Morgan, looking like she had just been told a side-splitting joke, snorted. A single, unrestrained cackle escaped her before she regained composure, albeit with the widest of smiles still on her face.

"Oh, you are far too easy, Juliana! Motherhood really brings out the idiot in you!" She sneered. "So that's what the money was for- not for hiding Caliburn, but for hiding your precious spawn!"

"Spawn that Pendragon is invested in keeping a secret, no less," Ruber chuckled. "Maybe he doesn't see much value in you, but it seems he might care a bit about this daughter of yours. The wife of his best friend, and her kid he didn't want us to find- if we haven't collected an even trade for Excalibur, I'd say we're getting pretty close."

"You'll never find her- especially now that you've provoked Arthur!" Juliana growled. "She'll be in safe hands long before you figure out her location!"

"You'd be right, if you were speaking to someone who wasn't as prepared as me. I've had ten years to get all of my resources together, and some of those are people- some of whom are very close to Pendragon," Ruber smirked in sick jubilation. "He'll have just enough time to regret surrounding himself with scum before he regrets having fucked with me."

Kayley sat on the bleachers that were set up beside the school's sport's field, half leaning on her lacrosse stick while looking down at her phone screen, like she was looking at something insulting and foul. It was nothing more than an empty inbox, which she had switched to looking at after reviewing her zero new text messages, but it might as well have been something much worse as she stared at the utter lack of notifications with her eyebrows sharply knitting together.

"Leave it up to mother of the year for just flat out forgetting my birthday entirely this year," she muttered to herself. "Maybe she's finally gone and forgotten she's had me locked away in here for a whole ten years now."

With a sigh, she forced herself to give her phone a rest, finally letting the screen grow black as she turned her gaze upward, towards the clouds lazily passing by.

"I shouldn't be surprised, though? Why even bother acknowledging the kid you never even wanted?"

"Hey, birthday girl!" A familiar voice interrupted her thoughts as an arm came down hard around her shoulder. "Better put that phone away before it gets confiscated again!"

At either side of her plopped her two closest friends- the only two people in the whole school who she could legitimately call her friends and actually mean it: Sylvia, a lanky girl with long blonde hair who was the pride and joy of the tennis club, and Elizabeth, a much more solidly built girl- and the one who was a good squeeze away from choking Kayley out- who was on the volleyball team. They were daughters of a rich CEO and a foreign diplomat respectively, about the usual fare who attended the prestigious Magnolia Institute, but they didn't act as spoiled and stuck up as a lot of the girls Kayley had the misfortune of knowing.

"Yeah, getting a lecture about being glued to technology would just be the cherry on top of the most lackluster birthday in all 17 years of my life..." She sighed, pocketing her phone.

"Mom still giving you the cold shoulder?" Elizabeth asked with a chuckle that made it perfectly clear that she wasn't too concerned. Kayley's mom being more of a mysterious specter than a person was starting to become more of an inside joke, anyway.

"I still don't see why she doesn't at least visit," Sylvia sighed. "My family takes me out for the day on my birthday."

"Yeah, but you have parents who actually care- all I have is a dad who fucked off before I was even born, and a mom who left me to rot in this place the second I became too difficult to raise," Kayley grumbled. "I shouldn't let one year of no hollow happy birthday text message get to me- if anything, it's even more depressing getting them and remembering I have a mom at all."

"Hey, now, turn that frown upside down! Just because your mom doesn't give a shit doesn't mean that we don't!" Elizabeth said, changing things up from putting Kayley in a headlock to nudging her roughly in the ribs. "We got you a little something!"

Sylvie reached in front of her, revealing a small plastic card, adorned with Kayley's photo and a string of information that hardly mattered to her- only because a majority of it was completely false.

"A new fake ID!?" Kayley whispered, swiping it out of her hands quickly and looking around to make sure no one else had seen the exchange.

"Correction: a new and improved fake ID," Sylvia grinned, privately showing off her own. "I found a new guy the last time I snuck out, he's practically an artist when it comes to making fakes! It's been a bummer sneaking out and going clubbing without you, so I made it worth his while to produce some of his finest work!"

"Obviously useless if you're trying to get into Camelot, or the lower city-" Elizabeth elaborated.

"Like I'd ever go there," Kayley slipped in with a roll of her eyes.

"-but, they'll be perfect for getting into clubs! They have the water marks and everything!"

"Aw, you girls spoil me rotten!" Kayley grinned, throwing her arms over them both. "So, I guess this means I'll actually get to party a little for my birthday?"

"They just opened a new club in the entertainment district- the timing couldn't be more perfect!" Sylvia giggled.

"So, usual place, usual time tonight, then?" Kayley asked with excitement as she rose to her feet and collected her belongings. "I need to get ready, I can't go out looking like a mess!"

"Whoa, whoa, Kayley! Watch where you're stepping!" Elizabeth called out as she began to take her leave.

"What, what!?" She paused mid-step. "What is it, a snake? Dog crap!?"

"No, moron, you're about to just waltz through a fairy ring!" Sylvia said, pointing out a scattering of mushrooms right in Kayley's path. It wasn't exactly a perfect circle, but if one were to squint, she guessed they were formed in a ring-like way- not that it mattered at all.

"Please, don't tell me you still believe in that stuff? We're not kids anymore, you know?" Kayley groaned. "You're not afraid to ask strange men you hardly know to make you fake ID's, but you draw the line at fairytale bullshit?"

"Hey, I heard about a girl from another school who got dared to walk into one of those things, and she went missing- no one's heard from her since!" Sylvia warned.

"Wow, that sounds vague and stupid enough to be true!" Kayley gasped sarcastically. "I'm going to go get washed up, you ladies have fun shitting yourselves over some mushrooms."

She looked down at the white caps poking out of the grass, hesitating only a second before plowing right on through, making sure to throw an exaggerated look of surprise over her shoulder at her two friends.

"Don't come crying to us when the fairy's come to lure you away!" Elizabeth called out.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll see you tonight," Kayley said, giving her a halfhearted wave as she made her way off the field.

"Fairy rings, are they serious...?" she muttered under her breath once she was a fair distance away. An uneasy feeling overtook her for a moment, but she shook her head in denial. "Nonsense... magic stuff like that isn't even real."