Interlude
It had been a long road back to Camelot but she had felt rather light, she didn't even mean the increase in strength that had appeared but rather the spring to her step that had been missing for the longest time. Hell, she was humming, humming! The emotionless king she had built herself up to be had just faded away almost in its entirety and in its place stood a peace she had not felt since… ever really. There would be problems she knew that, but she would weather them and with Requiem by her side no foe would be able to stand before her.
Still despite her joy there was an element of unease to the air, she had been on this road for a while and had met no one at all. She should have encountered someone by now, Camelot was a rather attractive place to go since it had acted as the eye of the storm within the constant invasions. Hell with the amount of refugees coming in they had to expand the walls several times just to hold everyone who wanted to settle there.(Though Kay refused to confirm anything she had heard rumors of dancing on the tables and the clacking of some strange fruit called a coconut) So the idea that her roads were empty were disturbing.
"Young lad!" She looked to the voice to see a bedraggled group of peasants that seemed to be carrying all their worldly possessions with them. Panicked and dirty they seemed surprised yet glad to see her (Or in their eyes him). It was not the recognition of her as king but rather as another living human which was stranger all things considered
"Hail there might I ask where you are going? "She greeted them with a good deal of cheer, yet she couldn't stop the note of uncertainty from creeping in.
"I should be asking you the same thing too you child, after all you are heading to your death" The man at the head of the group sighed tiredly as he gestured back, back towards Camelot
"What?" The man was gentle yet upfront with this news as he saw the panic in the young man's eyes
"Camelot is as good as lost boy; the rival kings have taken advantage of King Arthur's absence and now have begun a new war to claim all that was his" Artoria practically lunged at him seizing his shoulders
"What of Sir Kay, was it not his duty to keep the kingdom together?" Surprisingly unruffled (perhaps the horrors of war had deadened him) the man continued calmly
"Aye, but he's been plagued by conspiracy and power plays since the week the king left. He had no time to respond and is now trapped in Camelot itself as it is besieged. If your smart you'll run like the rest of us, there's nothing you can do without getting yourself killed" He slowly placed a hand on her wrist and gently pulled it away
"I can't" Her heartbeat quickly as tears filled her eyes. Pulling away from the man she looked to the distance and desperately repeated words in her mind almost like a prayer
'This couldn't be happening, this couldn't be ha happening, this couldn't be happening'
Was this the consequence of trying to be happy? Was this the worlds way of saying she should abandon joy and let herself be forever locked behind the chains of duty? She couldn't accept that, but she also couldn't accept the loss of Camelot.
''Twas a beautiful dream lad but no dream lasts forever, besides it's at least a three day ride, you'll never make it in time" Her breath slowed she stared at the smoke gathering in the distance. War camps.
"I'm sorry"
She ran towards a horse and knocked off its passenger quickly taking his place, the crowd looked outraged, but the lead man held them back simply staring at her.
"I refuse to believe that it's my kingdom's fate to simply burn as so many others have before"
She pulled the great sword of her back and rested it on her shoulder, the black ice shimmering in the light of midday
"It's just not in my nature" She kicked her heels and the horse charged to war, to Camelot.
(Linebreak)
Kay was sick of this shit, assassins in the night, battles by day and Tristain's incessant singing, the bloody bastard just would not shut up! He threw a rock at the invaders head, sending him tumbling down the ladder, knocking off most of the soldiers behind as well. He cursed as he saw Geraint get thrown off the wall, quickly he cut the offender in two, but another soon came to take his place. What a shitty two months and what a shitty day. He kicked the man in the balls before shoving a dagger through his skull, continuing to curse he went through several languages as his sword barely caught a nearby axe in time, the blasted eclipse was both morale destroying to an already despairing kingdom and aggravating as darkness had made an already arduous battle ever more difficult. Nonetheless with a punch and a swing and that foe was gone freeing him to look up at the darkening sky. With a swear he leapt behind (Or as close as one can do) the nearby turret.
"Volley!"
Arrow whistled down on the battlements; some were stopped by Tristain's weird harp-bow-thing but by the sound of the screams not nearly enough. From the corner of his eye he saw a flash of red fall down into the courtyard.
'Not enough indeed'
It had been two weeks since Merlin had left to gods know where and since then everything had devolved into a hellish clusterfuck as the other kings of the isle had chosen to pounce on them like a pack of starving wolves. Some he expected like Claudas, Rience and Urien(It was only a matter of time before Morgan got her claws fully in), but some like Pellinore and Bagdemagus came as a total surprise. Nonetheless the union of eight kings (And Hengist) had come together to bring Camelot to its knees and so far, they had done a good job. Most of the lands under their care had fallen and nearly all of their knights were dead. Griflet had taken an arrow through the eye, Bedivere was dragged down by a horde of screaming saxons and Lucan was currently in the infirmary fighting for his life (though in Kay's opinion a life with stumps instead of arms might not be one worth living in the end.)
"There he is!"
'Blasted little-'
Some of Cynric's soldiers had just found him and were undoubtedly looking to claim his head. But they were going to need more numbers, a lot more. Fire crawled across his blade as he activated the old curse and with a swing of his sword they were consumed in an inferno. A great crash signaled the fall of the gate and the tide of enemies coming to take the castle. With a great roar he covered himself in a great conflagration and came crashing down upon the enemy like a comet full of spite.
"Come on you bastards there's still one knight left in Camelot!" A sword in one hand and a mace in the other he charged into the dazed and burnt crowd, a part of him relished in the screams of his enemies but the other was just filled with a fury that'd make Madoc proud. A cry went out behind him as the remaining warriors of Camelot rallied to his charge.
"Nulla Misericordia!" A random soldier turned into red mist, two saracens were split in twain, a knight in red had their skull crushed by a flying mace. Walls of flame were raised as his curse worked its way up his arms, but he noticed neither the pain nor the wounds as he kept moving forward. Shields were split by his sword, spears were broken by his mace, skulls were shattered by his fists and feet, yet it wasn't enough and eventually he fell to his knees with three spears in his gut. He looked up and saw the eight kings (and Hengist) walk through the carnage upon their horses. An elderly man trotted forth at the head, the years and battles had clearly not been kind to this man yet strength still filled his form.
"Pellinore"
The clashing of steel still rang in the background comforted him for he knew he wasn't the last one left (for however long that lasts). He forced a smirk and spoke to the king.
"How much did they have to bribe you for you to forget your honor my Lord Pellinore of the isles?"
A wad of spit landed on his face, not from Pellinore but rather a younger man with similar features, one of his sons then.
"I was the one to organize this alliance, Kay the Seneschal" Kay stared at him in shock for a moment before giving him a look of sheer contempt combined with a mocking grin.
"So, what was it" The open grin on his bleeding face stunned the kings gathered round him.
"Excuse me?"
"The thing that repulsed you so strongly that you sacked towns and cities sending the many innocents who believed in a dream of peace and prosperity running into the wilds where they'd likely be torn apart by the many bandits that will obviously be spawned by this war, I mean it's undoubtedly a great and poignant reason so please tell me I'm quite literally dying to know"
Some of the kings looked down or away but others were unimpressed by his accusation.
"You're king has left his throne, has left his duties to gallivant in some far-off land-"
"Oh and that's the perfect reason to tear his lands to shreds and slaughter his people, how foolish are we for not knowing that if the king leaves the throne for I don't know a month or so to do a ritual or connect with the people then it's the perfect reason to raze their entire kingdom to the ground! How silly are we, that's how every kingdom has ever worked" Pellinore closed his eyes and stayed silent, his right eyebrow twitched betraying his true emotion.
"Silence fool, we will not be mocked by some seneschal!" Kay looked to the boy that spoke up with a blank look.
"Who are you again"
"The prince of the Isles! Lamorak!" He rolled his eyes and sent a smirk
"Taking this princeling for a walk across the Kingdom ay Pellinore. Has he killed his daily twelve maidens or is that a thing limited to Rience's little spawn"
"You-"
"Enough" He waved his son back and got off his horse. Placing the sword before his throat he continued. Kay could have sworn he heard someone call his name.
"Any last words Sir Kay?"
He thought back to one of the defenders who had died bravely in one of the first battles against the kings and he grinned savagely.
"How's Aglovale?"
Pellinore froze before roaring in fury for the first time possibly in his entire life and swung his sword over his head to split him in two.
'Sorry Arty guess you're on your own'
The sword landed right before him and he looked towards the shower of blood in shock. He realized what had happened and broke out laughing. Pellinore's cleaved corpse flying through the air and his stupid little sister standing in a pile of carnage with a look of outrage on her face.
(Linebreak)
"Father!" Artoria had begun swinging before Lamorak had even rushed towards her so the young man famous within his own kingdom for his skills was decapitated within his three steps, the flying head's eyes turning to mist. With her boot she used Pellinore's head as a springboard (With a disturbingly satisfying crushing sound) into a lunge shoving Requiem through Claudas, the french king fell with an echoing scream and mist rising from the eyes. Cynric swung his axe while Hengist moved to strike from behind, Artoria was faster and stronger than them both of the now and the Two Saxon kings who had withstood the might of Caliburn fell with barely a whimper. Urien and Bagdemagus put up a greater fight, their blades imbued with their own magic as they clashed against the black blade beneath the black sun of the eclipse, yet they too fell mist rising from their eyes
"Charge!" Cador and Caradoc had taken the time to gather their soldiers hoping to drown her in numbers.
'Fools'
Spitting and cursing Kay dragged himself to his feet, the spears shorn away by Pellinore's sword but still lodged within his gut. He moved his hand, yet he didn't get a chance to summon a spark before she started to turn them into paste. Men gathered from all over the field and charged, she didn't care, she swung and spun. Faster. Faster. Faster. With each kill she felt refreshed, with each kill she felt a little bit stronger than she was the kill before. It was like a crescendo of blood and death and she couldn't feel the slightest bit of pity for these men screaming under the eclipse. They had come to kill and destroy, they had killed and destroyed, her people were on the run and her brother had three spears in his gut. So, she raged through the bloody fields, using the techniques of their comrades and fellows to slaughter them. Pellinore's wide graceful strikes like the wind, Hengist brutal and unyielding as iron, Bagdemagus immovable and tough as the mountains, each a testimony of a life in battle, each replicated by a young girl in a matter of seconds.
"Monster!"
"Demon!"
"Spare us!"
Many more titles and pleads were screamed out yet she just kept swinging, this was her land where they were butchering HER people and now, they have the gall to beg for mercy?
'No mercy for these whorespawns, no mercy for those who had none to give' She had seen what they had done, she had seen the devastation they had left in their wake during her long ride. She failed to protect her people, but she could make sure that perpetrators paid. And so, death was song amongst them, no mercy was to be given beneath the black sun, no mercy at all. So, absorbed was she into this fight that she didn't notice her own knights drag Kay back to Camelot. So absorbed was she that she didn't see the fear sprouting in their eyes
(Linebreak)
She butchered and butchered until all that was left was a shit stained Rience on his belly begging like a dog. Funny, there used to be a voice at the back of her head that said things like this were unacceptable yet with these past three days she couldn't find a slightest shred of sympathy for any of them. That in itself felt wrong like it should be a warning sign yet still she raised the sword and shoved it through his back ignoring the tears on the pathetic man's face. She looked around her, the battlefield looked like hell. Blood stained both the earth and rivers, the men who were recognizable were often dismembered and the pieces scattered(She believed she could see a hand in the trees) but most were little more than piles of shit and gore. She should have felt horror and yet she couldn't help but find it funny, they had come here in overwhelming numbers expecting a single castle to siege and they were all running and shitting themselves at the sight of her.
'Well I was butchering them' She froze in the shade. 'I- I was butchering… with their own skills...'
She leaned against a tree and traced her finger across the blade, she could feel something within, was it the memories that she took or was it something else… She looked to the castle in the distance and her concerns soon evaporated. She refused to have sympathy for the bastards who had killed her knights and ravaged her people, the bastards who burned her towns and even… hurt… KAY!
She ran across the field looking for where she last saw her brother, the place where she cleaved the bastard who destroyed Caliburn in two. He wasn't there, there was a pool of blood but he wasn't there, what had they done to him, what had they done to her family?!. Raging she scarred the ground again and again until movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention, she lunged, and the sword barely stopped before it pulverized the figure. He was wearing her colors; he was one of her knights.
"Your-your majesty?" The young knight stammered obviously terrified at almost being turned to paste. She pulled the sword back and tried to relax
"I-(sigh) I'm sorry I had thought you to be an invader"
"I- it's all right your majesty it's been difficult these past few weeks for us as well just… please don't do that again" She winced at his terror in his trailing voice, it wasn't his fault she knew how terrifying she must look right now.
It was awkward for her. She had much she wanted to say to this survivor, I'm sorry for being away, I'm sorry for abandoning my duties, I'm sorry for not coming back on time, yet the words just would not come. So instead…
"My brother…" The young knight perked up instantly knowing what she meant
"He's alive, your grace, pissed and might never walk again but alive. We pulled him off the field while you were… dealing with the enemy" She breathed a sigh of relief and looked to the castle.
"... Thank you for delivering this report"
"Of-of course King Arthur" She froze, could she really keep that falsehood alive without Caliburn? moreover did she even want to? She looked deep into Requiem, the dark ice was calming oddly enough, perhaps it was because now how many she butchered the ice stood as pure as always
'Maybe- maybe I don't have to'
Most of her opposition was dead, the only major ones left were Vortigern and Lot and their attention would be away for a while, not a soul left in Camelot would be able to deny her strength so maybe just maybe
'Maybe I can be me…'
Wasn't that a beautiful thought?
"Artoria"
"What?"
"My name is Artoria" She walked to the castle not looking back to the knight and this field of death. Her people were waiting for her.
"... I wonder sometimes if my heart is too cold now or not cold enough"
(A few minutes before rayshift Fuyuki)
Mash sighed, she was in terrible pain but honestly couldn't bring herself to care all that much, she understood what was happening was momentous, an explosion had just ripped through the command center likely killing everyone or at least dooming them all to a slow death. Yet despite that she really felt nothing, maybe it was the fact she was to die soon anyways? She mentally shrugged whatever, she felt didn't matter now that her death, long postponed, had come early. Funny she always thought she'd be sadder instead she's just bored. Is this what Akuta felt all the time?
"WARNING GENERATOR OPERATION STOPPED. POWER LEVELS CRITICAL."
The alarm pounded her aching skull sending her off focus for a short time. Still the words irritated her more, they were useless after all. Anyone alive enough to hear it wouldn't be able do anything that mattered; not with the time they had left. Protocol had the walls closing in less than a minute, certainly not enough time to get out of this mess
"Fuck"
'Was that a voice? No, it couldn't be, it couldn't be'
"SWITCHING TO THE BACKUP GENERATOR. ERROR. AUTOMATIC SWITCH UNAVAILABLE. MANUAL SWITCH REQUIRED"
She softly hissed as the noise blared again and looked about the room, nothing but flame and burning steel.
"Ho-d -n"
Was she going insane in her last moments?
"WARNING CONTAINMENT WALL WILL CLOSE IN 40 SECONDS. THOSE REMAINING IN CENTRAL AREA, EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY"
She looked at the piece of steel impaling her to the floor.
'Evacuation'
She heard the voices again as well as the clanking of metal, definitely not mad then
"WARNING SYSTEM SWITCHING TO FINAL PHASE OF RAYSHIFT."
Whoever they were running out of time, best they leave them all to whatever death soon arrives.
"COORDINATES, AD 2004, JANUARY 30TH, FUYUKI JAPAN"
"Fuck!"
Something about the detached hostility in that voice made it familiar. If only the sirens were not pounding her skull.
"LAPLACE SHIFTING PROTECTION ESTABLISHED. SINGULARITY ADDITIONAL FACTOR SLOT SECURED"
She heard shrieking near the voice though this time it was decidedly more female.
'Director?'
She tried to move to see what was happening, she succeeded, it hurt.
"UNSUMMON PROGRAM SET. PLEASE START FINAL ADJUSTMENTS"
Her eyes focused again, and she finally saw them. Director Amniusbury was being carried by... Alva Aldain? Why was he of all people to save her? He seemed to be in good enough shape to run out on his own and from the way they were screaming at each other she had thought he would gladly leave the other to die. Why would he try to save someone he called quote on quote "A prideful little cunt" when he had such little time to save himself?
"WARNING ALL OBSERVATION STAFF. CHALDEAS' STATE HAS CHANGED"
A glowing red Chaldeas would mean...
"NOW REWRITING SHEBA'S NEAR FUTURE PREDICTION DATA…... UNABLE TO DETECT EXISTENCE OF MANKIND 100 YEARS IN NEAR EARTH FUTURE"
That.
"UNABLE TO CONFIRM HUMAN SURVIVORS. UNABLE TO GUARANTEE MANKIND'S FUTURE"
She heard the doors come down with a crash and heard him curse. She shook her head.
'Too late Aldain, too late for all of us'
"CENTRAL AREA SEALED. 180 SECONDS TILL INTERNAL CONTAINMENT PROCEDURE"
He was laying her on his lap? That doesn't- Why? What ever injuries she had may have well just killed you and yet-
"COFFIN VITALS: MASTERS BASELINE NOT REACHED"
You spend your last moments trying to make someone that you hate comfortable.
She wasn't sure if she'd do that for him if it came down to it, he seemed downright dismissive to her from the very moment they met and in return she treated him with a mixture suspicion and fear. The disdain from Ophelia certainly didn't help his case.
'I don't understand'
"RAYSHIFT REQUIREMENT NOT MET/ SEARCHING FOR QUALIFYING MASTER…. FOUND."
She saw him look up with hope and somehow felt hollower than before. She could see it, that distant thing.
"CANDIDATE NO. 48 SET AS MASTER"
That spark in his muddy eyes.
"UNSUMMON PROGRAM START. SPIRITRON CONVERSION START"
That grin on his bloody face.
"RAYSHIFT BEGINNING IN 3"
That burning will to go on despite everything. That defiance that would have you dust yourself off again after being slugged in the face, that fortitude to find your feet again after taking a hit. That humanity.
"2"
She didn't have that.
She suspected that maybe she never would
"1"
And yet.
'Just once'
"COMMENCING GRAND ORDER"
'Just once, I want to feel that flame'
… So Rhythm of war came out, it's pretty good except the ending(It's not bad just kind of messy and lackluster) Ahem, well originally this was going to be the first part of the new chapter but I had already made you all wait long enough and it already felt rather disconnected already so Interlude it is. Okay now for a bit more explanation of the chapter itself.
Artoria(Tyrant) if you haven't already figured out is going to be replacing Salter as the final boss of the Singularity, it's a take on if she found some strange relic from the land of shadows and that became her primary weapon instead of Excalibur and due to the effects of Requiem I'd say she is more dangerous than Salter despite not having the same raw power of Excalibur Morgana. Her fall begins as she tries to both be happy and be a good king(Maybe for anyone else it would turn out fine but this is King Arthur, those who devote themselves to a path of a martyr find it difficult to get off it well not without consequences) this along with the intoxicating strength of Requiem makes her mind start to slowly separate from the ideal of the knight and slip into a more might makes right view point(From it's dishonorable, to it helps me survive, to easier is better).
As for Mash well I'm going to go out in a limb and say that you're a bit surprised by Mash's portrayal here and I don't blame you, nihilism is a bit surprising for the cheerful eggplant but this isn't the FGO Mash where she find the protagonist and he/she makes her feel at ease from the very start. This is one where she meets Harker who she doesn't like all and the feelings are reciprocated so she doesn't have much to believe in or hold on to for most of her POV. This is because from what Ophelia and others have said she was always kind of an empty person who was just there before, someone who had no real meaning to her life before, little more than an empty doll. Right now, if Goetia were to offer her to stand by his side she'd probably take it. This won't always be the case though. As I will likely not get the next chapter in time for the holiday I wish you all a happy Thanksgiving and please stay inside.
(Sidenote) I promise there will be more Roman next chapter(Plus expect an editing update for the previous chapters)
Preview for next Chapter
"Would you like to hear a story Alva?" The woman in white robes blew softly on the flute, the haunting note piercing through the howling winds as if they were never there. The young boy glared at the woman shortly before shaking his head.
"I hate your stories. Never have any meaning" She scratched her head awkwardly and laughed, her white hair floating in the wind, he ignored the admittedly charming sight instead choosing to focus on the campfire
"It means what you want it to mean, A good story doesn't tell you how to think but rather gives you questions to think on" She smiled brightly as if she said something wise and perhaps she did but Alva was tired from his long vigil and had little patience for "Nemo" even in the best of times.
"Then I suggest you learn how to tell one," She laughed sweetly.
"Should an eight-year-old be this snarky?"
"Should a grown woman flirt with one"