"Awww~! Look at you two!"

Irisviel had her hands clasped together as she watched the two females approach her, partially swooning in the hallway. Her high necked, sleeveless dress waved in the passing air as she quickly walked to close the small gap between her and Arturia. The King of Knights, wearing a black blouse and blue jeans in contrast to her friend's white dress, was currently giving a blissful Illyasviel a piggyback ride. The small caster thankfully wore black gym shorts and a white shirt instead of anything particularly risqué for the current activity.

A passing robot eyed the trio before floating further down the hallway as Irisiviel giggled, "Done playing with your brother and sister, Illya?"

"Mhmm," She hummed with a smile. "They're going to practice a technique. Something about crane wings… but big brother and Tamamo are gonna help me make a cake later!"

"That's wonderful," Her mother said before turning to her dear friend. "Did you have fun with them, Arturia?"

"Yes. I've never played volleyball before, so it was interesting," The blonde responded with a small smile of her own. "Chloe was a determined and confident teammate."

"I wish I could've seen it," Irisiviel mused as Arturia knelt down to let the small caster off her back. Upon gently setting foot on the ground, she jumped to her mother's side and took her hand.

Kuro and Illya had quickly grown accustomed to the protective and happy family and friends she had in Chaldea; There was no doubt to any who saw it. They were known to be different from the original family they had, but the two sisters had clearly accepted it well. Adapting to the idea of a two-meter tall berserker being so friendly was probably a different story.

Regardless of the circumstances, between family and friends, there were many who cared for the two newest child servants. Even the King of Knights showed open acceptance and appreciation since she had dealt with a different version of her in a previous war. Just by looking at them, one would have never guessed they were enemies. With bright smiles and gentle laughter, they seemed more like close family.

That idea wasn't exactly wrong either. The ever-growing rumor something was going on between the blonde saber and Chaldea's top servant cook would mean they possibly could be family. An occasional jealous stare from Illyas and Kuro whenever the king and counter guardian were together only helped promote the idea. Still, even if they were upset she had her own share of time with the archer, they still treated her kindly like she was part of the family as someone happy to ensure Illya and Kuro felt loved.

...Which was significantly more than the knight who watched them ever received.

Wearing a red tank top and dangerously tiny jean shorts, Mordred had her arms crossed and stared down the hallway at the now leaving trio. Irisviel had presumably made a joke; Illya laughed loudly which caused Arturia to smile at her. She watched as the small caster turned to the knight's father, looking up to her with a hopeful look while reaching her free hand out.

The air around Mordred fell several degrees, her heart plummeting further, as she watched Arturia happily take the small girl's hand. Letting out a giggle, Illya gently swung the two arms that held onto her as they approached an intersection further down. Upon passing the corridor and continuing further down, a robot passed the group and blocked her sight for a split second. For that split second after they came back in sight, Mordred saw a young girl's blonde ponytail and green eyes gazing happily up to meet her father's own smile.

And then it was gone, replaced with the reality it was Illya holding Arturia's hand and not her own.

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

Fragment 21: Late Night Retrospect

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

Robots and employees alike almost dove out of the way of a stomping saber, some daring to give a second look back even after feeling the angry aura surrounding the knight. It wasn't quite killing intent, but it was rage without a doubt. Mordred sped down the hallway, brushing harshly past anyone in her way as she tried her best to hide her eyes behind her bangs. She couldn't let anyone see. She would never let anyone see her like this.

Mordred does not cry.

As the blonde girl felt tears threaten the sides of her eyes as they wished to fall, the sting of the sight of the trio flashing painfully in her eyes, she stormed forward to get as far away from them as possible. She didn't know where she was headed anymore, refusing to look up, as she continued on her unknown path in the opposite direction. It wasn't until she turned the corner and walked directly into another servant that she halted. Bouncing off the chest of the servant, she cursed under her breath and grit her teeth.

Regardless of who it was, she would've immediately shoved them aside and kept walking, uncaring of what they would think at the moment. She could count on one hand how many friends she had in Chaldea, with not much more taking any time to talk to her, so she knew the large servant wasn't one of them. But she didn't push him aside. Instead, while she stared at a tightly fit white shirt with words that read Civilization paired with loose, black jeans, she hesitated and quickly brushed her eyes to ensure no tears had actually fallen.

To her relief, none had even wet her eyes. She was good at hiding them. "Oho, my bad! I didn't see you there."

With a slight glare she looked up at the large, muscular man with the booming voice. Iskandar was the only one with that recognizably resolute, strong, yet friendly voice, so it was without surprise that she met his content gaze and small grin. In his hands was an open book, the obvious reason as to why he had so casually failed to divert his own course. Not particularly caring about why he was reading a book about the Trojan War, she simply huffed and began to move around the large obstacle.

She knew who he was alright, but they never interacted since she had no real interest or liking of conquering kings. It was only when her path was blocked by a large, outstretched arm that she grit her teeth and glared at the offending servant. Today was turning into a pretty bad day already. She practically growled, "What's your problem?"

"I should be asking you that," Iskandar offered in response as he pulled his hand back and scratched his chin. They had hardly interacted within the near two months she'd been in Chaldea; Surprisingly, they had only been on two training sessions and a supply sortie together, but they never talked. "Our collision was hardly anything worth getting furious about."

"That's not wha- Forget it," She fumed as she stormed passed the confused rider. The knight didn't want to deal with anything else for a bit.

As she was about to turn the corner, she caught the confused musings of the rider. "Hmm… If not for her looks I would have never suspected she was Arturia's daughter."

Mordred froze. Had she ground her teeth any harder they would have cracked as she slowly turned towards the slowly retreating rider, fists clenched and legs tense. Practically stomping back towards him, Mordred ignored the startled and horrified look a poor employee gave her as she shot out of her path. Her rage was palpable enough that even the lone robot would have been described as having stopped to let her past, would any witnesses be watching the brewing storm. Feeling the crosshairs upon him, the muscular man slowly turned around with his book closed.

He held blank yet calm expression on his face as he observed the angry servant approaching him. She stopped mere feet away from him, glaring down the taller man as if he wasn't nearly twice her height and build. Before she could even roar out her first words, Iskandar sighed, causing her to pause in slight curiosity. Her face remained an inferno as he scratched his head. "I guess you heard that comment then."

"You're damn right I did," Mordred fired out as she took a step, or stomp rather, closer to her target. It looked more comical than intimidating thanks to the height difference. "And don't ever call me that again!"

"I believe I know what you're referring to, but I must clarify anyway," The large man began while crossing his arms. "Not to call you female, or the idea of being Arturia's child?"

She paused and blinked, anger growing by the second. "The girl part!"

"I figured as much," Iskandar admitted with a shrug of his shoulders and a calm expression. It infuriated her. "Had to be sure. Your history with your… father wasn't the best."

"Shut up! I don't need you to remind me!" She growled out viciously before slowly turning around. The knight had more than enough with this large oaf already-

"And that's the very reason you're angry, isn't it?" He was still so unbelievably calm and composed.

She froze again as she faced the rider once more. 'The nerve of this-'

"You want to vent about it?"

Now she froze for a completely different reason. "...And why would I want to tell you anything?"

He shrugged. "We're comrades now, are we not?"

"More like allies by coincidence at best," Mordred growled out as she crossed her arms, shifting her weight onto one leg. "Why would you even offer that?"

"Holding discontent leads to distractions on the battlefield. Whenever some of my commanders or advisors would seem distressed, I would offer to talk to them directly," Iskandar stated plainly with a small gesture from the hand holding his book. "I realize we never had any form of connection, but to me, being an ally is more than enough, should you accept."

"I don't. Just leave me alone."

Without another word, the saber stormed off and nearly scared a far taller employee to death when she glared at him for making eye contact. As Iskandar watched her leave, he let out a sigh and shook his head… before letting out a light chuckle with a matching grin.

"Oho… How very different indeed."

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ III ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

"Something wrong, Mordred?" The knight was shaken out of her thoughts as she turned to look at Iskandar staring inquisitively at her from across the lunch table in the cafeteria.

He wore the same outfit as that day two weeks ago, though the jeans looked to be of a slightly different design. To his left, Lord El-Melloi had his hands crossed over his business suit with a proud smirk as the employee between him and her, Tyler she recalls, fumed about being defeated early in yesterday's tournament by another table mate. Said servant was sitting to Iskandar's right, arms also crossed and thoroughly enjoying the rant across the table; It was Kintoki's first time defeating one of the organization's best in a tournament. The berserker sported tan slacks and an unbuttoned white dress shirt that revealed his ironed form.

Had Iskandar not been staring at her inquisitively, she would have assumed she was just hearing things as the rest of the table ignored them. Readjusting her leather jacket, which covered her white tank top, she re-met his eyes. After a shake her head, she resumed fiddling with the unused fork in her right hand. "Nah. Just bored and listening."

"Ah, I see." Iskandar nodded and took a drink from his soda can. Thankfully, her new acquaintance left it at that. The King of Conquerors was one of the last people she suspected of ever trying to form a bond with her, and to her surprise he did exactly that. They had a few brief conversations since their rocky meeting in the hallway ten days before Halloween, all instigated by the larger servant.

It was only a few days ago, during the pre-dinner Halloween party, that he had dared to strike up a friendly conversation and invite her and Jekyll to join their group in some beer pong. She had soon taken a small liking to the game, at the very least because it solved her slight boredom after the carving contest was over. They had plenty of increasingly friendly conversations since then, and today she had found herself having lunch with the boisterous group after being invited to join; Jekyll had been helping Doctor Roman in the Medical Bay and decided to skip lunch.

She honestly wasn't sure what to make of the invitation at first, and still didn't, but she was partially curious about being in different company. It's not that she didn't like spending some time with Jekyll at all, or spending most alone, but the invite made her feel a little more welcome when so many didn't bother to give the Knight of Treachery more than basic pleasantries. She wasn't even going to mention how cold some of the knights, whether from Camelot or not, treated her. While she wouldn't admit it, she found the occasional small talk directed towards her uplifting.

With lunch being finished, Mordred now sat amongst the group listening to their conversations with curiosity, never knowing Heroic Spirits of such high caliber could find these strange games so interesting. She didn't care much for the occasional, analyzing glances from the King of Conquerors. He had made his curiosities about the difference between 'the enthusiastic son and the formerly stoic father' known, so it was likely that. As long as he didn't voice it, she was content to let him have his silent comparisons.

The caster casually pushed his chair back, smirk still firmly planted on his face, before pulling out a compact cigar box from his suit jacket. Kintoki raised a small eyebrow after checking his watch. "Smoke break?"

"I've got enough time before I have to tutor Gabrielle on strategies," He mentioned casually, slowly taking one of the sticks out of the container. "She's catching on fine but she has a long way before she reaches Gudao's skill."

"Golden," Kintoki said with a small chuckle, making Tyler roll his eyes in amusement.

As the caster was about to leave, he caught the curious stare of Mordred aimed right at his cigar box. He raised an eyebrow ever so slightly as her gaze met his own. "Interested in my cigars?"

"Didn't know you smoked."

"I do it occasionally but keep it under wraps. Usually frowned upon these days," El-Melloi stated plainly as he pocketed the box. "You smoke, Mordred?"

"Only on certain occasions," She responded a little quieter, drawing the attention of everyone else at the table.

"Huh. Didn't think you were a smoker," Kintoki mused out loud while staring inquisitively at her. Iskandar quietly watched the discussion.

"I only smoke one cigarette when I do, and it's only in memory of my old master," She answered quickly, defusing any possibility of a rumor going about. The last thing the Knight of Treachery needed was more negative publicity, even if she barely cared at all. Extra hassle was extra hassle.

"Kairi Sisigou, correct?" The caster asked, smirking slightly when he saw Mordred's eyes barely widen. He decided to answer before she could ask. "How do I know? From talking with Jeanne and Amakusa. I'm assuming he smoked?"

"Yea," Mordred responded while leaning back in her chair. "Only a certain Taiwanese Brand though."

Lord El-Melloi II visibly cringed. "Not Dragon Smoke was it? Bloody hell, that brand tastes like rubbish."

Mordred nodded. "That brand! Told me it lets him see the transience of the world or something."

"Only thing it let me see was how poorly I spent my money that day."

Mordred chuckled along with the rest of the sitting table. A robot floated by, picking up the remaining trash and trays as the caster shook his head. "Well, if it's to remember someone important to you, I can't blame you. People tend to do little things in memoriam."

"You did stuff like that after losing Broskander?" Tyler asked while leaning on his arm propped over the back of his chair. "Well, not smoking obviously but, you know."

Mordred watched all attention turn to the caster, including his king who had a small smirk since he likely knew the answer. He sighed and rolled his eyes, "Yea. Of course I did. I swore fealty to him, and I lived on as he commanded to honor his na-"

Tyler smirked. "Was practically talking my ear off about his glorious final charge and preaching all the stories from your Holy Grail War point of-"

"You bloody asshat!" The caster scowled at his gaming rival, making the entire table erupt in laughter and Mordred to chuckle. He rubbed his forehead with a freehand before feeling his back roughly patted by the rider.

Opening his eyes to stare at his King, he was met with a proud grin and a thumbs-up. "You did well, boy. I chose a worthy retainer."

"Thanks, my king," He bowed slightly with a smirk of his own. "With that, I'm off. My smoke break just got a bit shorter."

The caster tossed a small wave before walking towards the cafeteria exit. Tyler decided to get one final jab in, "See ya, Scowl Master Dubya!"

"Make up another nickname that bad and I'll actually roast you… just like I did in the last tournament."

"Shit. He's getting better at these comebacks," Tyler pointed out with a small grin, causing his two muscular friends to laugh while Mordred found herself with an amused grin. The employee soon stood up as well, "Well I'm off too. Going to plow through the work so the supervisor gives me tomorrow off like I requested."

"Have fun," Kintoki said while taking one final drink from his bottle of water. Without looking, he threw the empty bottle behind him. It ricocheted off the ceiling and sailed cleanly into a trashcan, causing two employees to applaud from the adjacent table.

Before he started walking, the employee turned to Mordred and pointed, causing her to raise an eyebrow. "Hey, if you ever feel bored or anything, feel free to swing by the Game Room."

"...I'll think about it," She responded with a shrug. The employee simply flashed a grin and one last wave before headed towards the door. She was honestly surprised how welcome the table made her feel, and the thought of hanging around them was no longer as uninteresting to her as she had first imagined.

If anything, she was glad she accepted this lunch invitation.

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ IV ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

"Umu~ Feel free to praise me more, Master!"

"Well done today, Mordred."

"Uwah! Don't ignore me!" Nero complained with a pout as she half glared at Gudao's back. The male master simply smirked without looking back at the Empress as she sulked off down the hallway towards Gabrielle in an attempt to find more praise.

Mordred chuckled. "Thanks, Gudao."

He smiled and nodded back as they shook hands. "Seriously though, awesome effort as usual."

The two then high fived before Gudao quickly began walking towards Gabrielle; The two had made some fun plans with a few servants when the training session ended. Mordred watched from slightly down the hallway as Gudao passed more servants coming out of the Deployment Room's large doors, quickly complimenting each and their performance. As she was about to turn away to change into some regular clothes, and out of the stuffy silver armor, she caught the familiar silhouette of a large, muscular rider as he exited the room and waved to her.

"Glorious charge, Mordred!" He bellowed as he quickly approached her with his red cape billowing behind him.

"I just followed your own, Iskandar!" Her grin widened as her small hand was enveloped in the larger servant's own. They shook hands, each letting out small chuckles.

"Glad you followed!" He stated before letting out his signature laugh, making some of the remaining servants in the room cringe. "The quick initiative… the audacity of charging into a bad match… the brazen, sheer confidence of your body motion… and that proud smirk! You're like a little me!"

Mordred gave a mock glare and swatted at his large hand, making the man raise his hands in joking surrender. "No way am I a little you!"

The rider chuckled before lowering his hands. If the two had started to get along decently before, then the recent training where they worked within the same strike team was a giant leap forward. To say their combat styles matched was an understatement, with the two confident and daring servants practically finding a battle buddy in the other. Mordred's wild style of fighting helped draw some attention away from Iskandar's equally daring maneuvers, letting him properly setup his mount for another calculated yet bold mobile offensive. For the two servants to find that the other also enjoyed more direct action was beyond a bonding point.

To say Mordred actually trusted Iskandar as a friend and comrade was swiftly becoming a solid fact. "Got any plans for the rest of the day? Tyler and Golden Boy should be in the Game Room."

"I don't think I have plans, but I'll see." That was a total lie considering Mordred never had any real plans while in Chaldea; She simply went with whatever came, usually winding up getting frustrated at one thing or another whether the offending party did it intentionally or not. It was usually the latter.

"I see. Well, if you do decide, I hope to see you there!" Iskandar said with a grin and a small wave before walking down the hallway.

Mordred watched him leave, his cape billowing behind him as a robot hovered to get out of the rider's way. It had only been a day since sitting with them at lunch, and she had done so today as well since Jekyll wound up skipping again; The two doctors seemed to be mimicking Gudao's work ethic lately, but for what she didn't know. At the very least she had gotten to know the enthusiastic and unusual group she had begun sitting with and found that she enjoyed their company. The thought of exploring the Game Room was no longer a foreign thought, and the knight decided she was going to take a curious chance today.

The thought of having people treat her as an equal was a great feeling, one that even her former fellow knights barely did in the past.

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ V ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

The knight stood in the doorway to the connecting room, peeking her head in as she did so. She wore the usual leather jacket except with a red tank top underneath that exposed a small slither of her stomach. She had both hands in the pocket of her blue jeans as she caught the attention of Tyler within. He casually waved and smiled to her, "Oh cool, you showed up!"

Mordred looked around at the practically empty video game section, save for the one lone, dark skinned employee. Even with the day off, he had his work uniform on but with the tie undone and hanging by the neck. He had his shoes off with the ankle of one leg resting on the knee of his other as he swiftly manipulated the small controller in his hand. Whatever idea Mordred had of what the Game Room was proven wrong when she stepped into the section. It was a very far cry from the board and card games she assumed the room contained.

Upon sight of the large monitor showcasing a scene of two warriors fighting each other, her interest in staying sky rocketed. "Hey Tyler. Where are the others?"

"Iskandar's meeting with Gudao and Gabrielle last minute. Some strategy talk I assume. Kintoki is ordering a pizza from the kitchen and Cu should be finishing up his sparring session with Scathach, Diarmuid, and Fionn."

She nodded quietly as she watched the screen. A blonde combatant in fancy clothes wielded a rapier gracefully while the dark armored opponent had an oversized sword which he wielded ferociously. "What is this?"

"Soul Calibur 3" Tyler stated as he let out a quick cheer as the blonde swordsman thrust his rapier into the armored being, sending him to the ground. The graphic violence and realistic blood caught Mordred's attention even more. "I'm guessing you've never seen a video game before."

Again, Mordred shook her head before slowly making her way towards the couch. She sat on the very end, giving a large amount of space between her and Tyler. It was partially out of comfort but mainly because of Kintoki's jacket that was splayed out across most of it. Still, here eyes remained glues to the screen eagerly.

She was mesmerized by the game in front of her as 'Round 2' flashed on the screen and the violence began once more. The concept of modern entertainment was only partially given to her upon summoning, as it was deemed relatively unnecessary for fighting in any Holy Grail War. It left her completely surprised and interested for what was displayed on the screen, though she was also slightly irritated by it.

"Huh. So most people only pretend to be fighters in the modern era?"

"Nah. There are still lots of soldiers and martial artists," Tyler answered casually as his thumbs turned into blurs. "But video games let people be whoever they want if they really feel like it I guess. I could see why some would do it… but me personally? I just like video games. All I had growing up. Good fun, less mess."

"I see," She said quietly as her eyes danced between the two combatants. There was a comfortable silence as Tyler's eyes quickly darted to Mordred and back.

"Awesome leather jacket by the way. The silver accents are slick," The employee complimented, making her look down at the article and then towards him.

"Thanks," She responded with a small grin, taking the unusual word as a compliment based on his tone. "My master wore one similar. I secretly wanted one too."

"Master with a leather jacket? He sounds like a badass."

Mordred narrowed her eyes but raised a brow in confusion, taking this unusual term as a small insult. "Badass?"

"Yea, badass," Tyler stated again with a small grin, even after catching Mordred's stare. "Never heard the term? It's another way of saying very awesome in a realyl tough way. A lone man taking on a swarm of dragons and winning? Bad. Ass."

"Oh," Her gaze softened and turned into a small smirk. "For a magus, yea. I guess he was… badass. Definitely tough! We got along really well! It was surprising at first."

"Expected him to be a toolbag like most of the mages in Chaldea?" At the sight of Mordred's confused look, he once more decided to explain after a small chuckle. "Sorry, more slang… An actual insult. An asshole of sorts."

"Most mages are rather arrogant. I learned that from my mother... But he was like me, and it turned out alright... Except his insistence on sleeping in crypts for his necromancy."

"You slept in crypts during your war? That's so metal!" At the curious gaze she gave him one last time, he laughed. "My bad, my bad. I use a lot of slang terms."

"No, not that," She started slowly. She had realized she had opened up to conversation rather quickly, which slightly unnerved her. The cause for most of her curiosity was the employee in front of her however; It was more than just being an easy person to talk to. "...You're rather comfortable around heroic spirits."

Tyler's character impaled the enemy pole bearer with his rapier, ending the match and letting Tyler meet her gaze fully. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"Is that a serious question? Most either respect us or give a bit of space... I always get negative reactions because of my past," She stated with a frown. "Yet you're talking informally with spirits like Alexander the Great like you're their equal. How? Why? Are we not intimidating or like celebrities?"

Tyler sighed but let out a friendly smile. "To put it simply, my mama raised me to treat everyone with respect and kindness because we're all god's children. Never was as religious as her, no matter how much her loving smacks tried to convince me sometimes, but I could follow that word just fine. So I just treat others like a damn decent human being should. So I'm friendly to everyone unless they treat me like garbage. That's all."

"...That's it?" She asked, still partially perplexed. "But we're heroic spirits, some of us with darker tales than others. You're not terrified of what I might do?"

"I mean, have you caused a civil war in Chaldea yet? Not meaning to bring up bad memories, but seriously," Tyler asked with a small raise of his eyebrows. "I figure the big bad Mordred from the Tale of King Arthur can't be that bad if you've been in Chaldea for plenty of weeks and haven't beheaded anyone or something."

Mordred wanted to scoff at that simple explanation. It was absurd at its very core as it left its mouth, but at the same time she quietly appreciated how plain and straightforward this employee was. As simple as his reasoning was, it was still an absurd notion to treat such highly decorated spirits so informally. It bothered and intrigued her the past two days at lunch.

Yet at the same time it made her feel even more welcome in this organization for the first time in weeks. Here was this employee, with an expertise in computers and robotics, casually making conversation with the dreaded knight that brought down Camelot... as if she was just another person looking for a nice, relaxed conversation in a public place. It boggled her mind, but it also gave her more respect for this group she had suddenly found herself involved with.

"Thanks..." She found herself saying in an unusually soft voice, so much so it greatly surprised and irritated her. The employee simply nodded before reaching onto the coffee table in front of him and plucking a small controller from a cluster. Casually tossing it her way, he gave a small grin as she looked at the unusual object.

"Care for a round? Just as a warning, none of us go easy on anyone."

She paused and looked up at the employee. She quickly grinned back. "Good. I hate it when my opponents hold back!"

"Hell yeah! Let's see if we can get you beating down Kintoki or Cu by the end of tonight. Not often we get a girl gamer."

Tyler quirked an eyebrow when there was a small silence followed by a small chill in the room. He turned to look at his companion and flinched in shock upon seeing her glaring daggers at him while gritting her teeth. He had visibly recoiled at the aura of anger she had suddenly began to emit. To the employee's credit, and her honest surprise, his next gesture was to scrunch his eyebrows and scratch his head instead of fleeing the scene.

"Aight, sorry. I stepped on a landmine, but I have no idea how. Care to fill me in on how I ticked you off? I feel like I should have known this or something..."

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ VI ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

It had been ten days since Mordred first ventured into the Game Room. Since then, she had made quick, dare she say, friends with the rest of the gamer group. The knight had given Tyler considerably more respect for his lack of total terror upon mistakenly calling her a girl; This was part of the reason she forgave him so quickly. She also swiftly forged an interesting friendship with Kintoki when talking about random topics.

While she spent a decent amount of time with them on occasion, her interest in only fighting games caused her to get bored should the group switch types. It was a good balance, as Mordred still got to spend some time to do her own personal activities or pester Jekyll. The knight had found more people willing to give her other ways to spend her time in contentment, and for that she was secretly very grateful to them. She was starting to feel accepted for once.

On occasion, Iskandar or the others would invite her to other random activities such as some time at Salon de Marie's bar or even a friendly spar on the Training Grounds. The spars with Kintoki were quite the light show with their lightning infused techniques. Some board game nights were also a fun change of pace at times. She took them up on the offers on multiple occasions, with the current one being such an example.

She found herself sitting with Iskandar at the Party Cave's bar, casually drinking some ale that the rider had acquired by the barrel for Chaldea, if only so he didn't have to pay for it when he drank; Drake had already gone through one such barrel by herself in the few days since Iskandar brought in the haul. While the after taste left a lot to be desired, the ale had a smooth texture and she found herself enjoying the alcoholic drink. Hopefully they wouldn't go through a barrel before Lord El-Melloi II and Kintoki arrived, but by the speed Iskandar was chugging it may very well happen.

"Still three barrels left," He shrugged off as the robotic bartender refilled his tall mug. "And Waver's kind of a lightweight."

"Compared to you, everyone is a lightweight," Mordred declared plainly. She took off her leather jacket, feeling too warm, and placed it on a table behind her as Iskandar laughed. The bar was deserted except for them since employees would rather have sleep around eleven. While enjoying the cool air on her now bare shoulders, she went back to her drink.

She watched as Iskandar started to sip from his newly refilled mug, spilling some ale onto his Admirable Tactics shirt and jeans. Mordred refrained from doing so and staining her blank black shirt and ripped jeans, even if the laundry service in Chaldea was phenomenal and quick. "Your sixth mug and we've been here for half an hour."

"I drink and party like a true king," He boasted proudly as he casually placed the mug back on the bar top with a small slam. "You can be doing it too someday when you get your dream to become a king!"

Mordred was silent as the statement bounced around in her head. She let out a small sigh, catching Iskandar's attention. "...I guess."

"Oho? Unsure of what kind of king you'll want to be?" He asked with the small raise of an eyebrow. He brought the mug back to his lips to begin drinking once more, though his eyes remained gauging her. No one had heard of Mordred's style of ruling, so it was obvious why he seemed so interested. She decided to be honest.

"...I don't want to be king anymore."

Thankfully Iskandar wasn't drinking or else he would have spat the ale right out and onto poor Lex. He looked at Mordred with a dumbfounded expression. "What? You told us your dream was to-"

"I didn't lie," She reassured quietly while staring into her glass. "To pull the sword of selection from the stone was my dream. Was... But I wanted it for similar reasons... It was just a big ambition that formed from my real one..."

"Oho…" Iskandar breathed as he put his mug down and let the thought sit. After a few seconds he sighed. "So then what is your dream? Your wish if you got the grail?"

Mordred remained silent as she thought about his question, feeling his blank gaze on her as she cupped her glass with both hands and stared into the amber liquid. Whether it was the liquor affecting her or the comfort of knowing someone she trusted was actually listening didn't matter, since she decided to finally go against her gut instinct and spill to someone. "I… just want to be accepted and praised by my father."

"Arturia's acknowledgement," Iskandar said quietly, watching as Mordred slowly nodded her head. She wondered if he was going to berate her for a simple wish, just like she knew the rider did for his master back in their war. To her relief, which would have honestly angered her, he was considerate and remained silent.

"I was proud to know I was King Arthur's son," She continued with a small sigh. "Everyone looked up to him in respect and idolization. He was the perfect king, and I wanted to be exactly like him. I was so proud I had his blood in my veins! To be recognized by him as the worthy successor was everything I could have hoped for after a rough start in life… Instead he denounced me and stated I wasn't fit to be king..."

"Believed you were not fit to be king…" Iskandar's eyes narrowed as the thought sink in, likely recollecting further memories from a past experience he's had with her. "And so you rebelled."

"I didn't hate him before, but I loathed him after! I thought it was because I was the bastard of him and mother. I was fated never to be acknowledged. So I claimed the throne during their Roman campaign... Destroyed the army as it clashed in civil war! Delivered the fatal blow on that damned hill after being injured myself!" Mordred practically growled out, her rage boiling as she grit her teeth. "...And still, it was all for naught."

"Yet something changed," The rider noted, making the blonde look at him while he took a sip from his glass. She had a newfound respect for how clearly and insightfully he could think after downing so much alcohol. "You're no longer as hate-filled as you say. Surely you have that temper, which is what drew my curiosity the most. You're quick to anger, which was considerably different from your father... but that is different from blinding rage and resentment. You're no berserker, even if some claim you fight like one."

She paused and nodded slowly before looking back at her drink. "My time with Kairi in the Great Holy Grail War let me think over everything. My adventure with Gudao in London too. I've come to understand what he… no, she meant. That I wasn't fit. How she could look down upon me."

"Maybe that's changed… like you, she's also different. Different experiences and perspectives."

Mordred looked stared up and forward at the wine rack across the gap. Her eyes narrowed and her heart stung. "Changed? There's no way... I feel she still hates me. No, I know it... I destroyed her precious kingdom."

"Hmm. If what she thought of her reign and actions then is different from what she thinks now, then maybe not. Arturia hasn't openly chastised you in public, correct? I'm sure it would have been Chaldean gossip by now."

She shook her head before looking towards him. "But she doesn't approach me. Just gives that damn blank expression from centuries ago."

"Have you approached and asked?" Such a simple question, with an even simpler act.

She frowned and shook her head again. "I dare not. She's usually accompanied by someone who sends a death glare my way anyway."

"Where's the confidence?" Iskandar asked plainly as he sipped his ale. Offended, she glared at her newfound comrade as he simply stared back. "You're the Mordred who charges wildly into the fray with me, no? Then why not dare to advance here?"

She paused and felt her gaze lighten, knowing he had a point. She simply shook her head and looked into her glass again. "I… I don't know."

But she did know. Her fear of once more being rejected and feeling her heart sting is what walled her off. She would never admit to it, but part of her felt she didn't need to if the muscular rider next to her might be already suspecting it. She felt more shame for having felt so small in that moment, knowing it went completely against what she was as a strong and intimidating knight. At least she knew he wouldn't berate or tease her for it, but rather do exactly what he was doing now: Nudging her in the right direction. She let out a sigh and looked towards Iskandar before shaking her head.

"Don't you dare tell anyone about this," she half glared and threatened. She was met with a small nod and grin before turning to the robot. "You too."

"Request acknowledged," the robot beeped. "Bar customer secrecy protocols are always initiated as standard. Your secret is safe with me."

Iskandar chuckled at the robotic response before downing the rest of his mug so it could begin refilling. "I won't push. It seems to be troubling you greatly still."

"Thanks," She replied with a small grin before drinking her own ale. It was nice to have considerate people around her for once. Her curiosity from before did remain though. "How did you know so much about King Arthur's rule?"

The sudden silence unnerved her as rider looked to her with a contemplative look.

"Ohoo… this is difficult ground," the rider admitted after a small pause, drawing the curiosity of the saber next to him. "What I tell you next may very well be the end of our budding comradery."

She narrowed her eyes slightly at him. "...What do you mean?"

Iskandar let out a low chuckle and shook his head disappointingly at the memory. "Your father and I had a meeting during a past Holy Grail War to have negotiations for who had rights to the grail, as you likely knew."

Mordred's eyes widened in interest. "You fought against my father in your war?"

"I guess you didn't know... Yes. I did. We held the King's banquet to try and talk it out peacefully. Gilgamesh, Arturia, and myself. Waver and Irisviel were also present, but in master roles, of course," The muscular man reminisced, taking a small sip of ale in his pause. "We talked about our wishes, striking verbally at each other's beliefs of having rightful ownership of the cup. Gilgamesh said it belonged to him as one of his treasures, of course."

"Drinking? In the middle of a grail war?" Mordred asked with an amused raise of her eyebrow. She also could not hide a grin as she thought about Gilgamesh's demand, knowing full well how grating the King of Heroes was before Astolfo accidentally reverted him to the state of a child. It was arguably one of the paladin's greatest and most beloved mistakes. "Why did you want it?"

"Reincarnation," He said with a small smile. "Another chance to conquer the world once more, with flesh and blood."

"I should have guessed," Mordred rolled her eyes and smirked at him. "Was the drinking banquet your idea too?"

"Of course!" Iskandar grinned with a thumbs up, making Mordred chuckle. His grin faded into a small frown however, making Mordred's slowly disappear as well as she recalled his previous warning. "And then she told us her wish after denouncing my greed. Of all things, she desired salvation for Camelot. To save your kingdom from its destruction and fate."

"Salvation?" Mordred echoed, feeling her heart sting. If she wished for salvation, did that mean her father wanted to undo her rebellion? To get rid of her to save Camelot? The possibilities swirled in her head, none of which were positive.

"Mmm. She wanted to undo the past and correct what she deemed was wrong in hopes of saving Camelot," Iskandar stated flatly, a frown clearly on his face. "A noble idea for a saintly king, but an idea I will never agree with."

Mordred frowned, feeling some anger bubbling up. So this is what he meant. "You think Camelot doesn't deserve to be saved?"

Iskandar raised an eyebrow curiously at her response, his frown remaining. "Whether Camelot deserves to be saved or not isn't what I was angry about. The idea of changing history, to regret your own decisions and desperately try to undo them... That's something I can't agree with. It's an insult to those who lived and fought for you under your rule, trusting in your leadership."

Her anger stopped boiling but remained, and she felt herself thinking about his words carefully. Iskandar sighed, playing with his mug on the counter. "The negotiations soon dissolved into an argument about being a true king. In the end, all we could do was agree to disagree. All three of us denounced the others' reigns. It was apparent we would never agree, nor did I want to at that point."

He sighed and braced for his companion snapping. "The banquet ended, and I declared I no longer recognized your father as a king."

Mordred gripped her glass tightly. She narrowed her eyes and stared at the amber liquid, memories of the many times she admired her father's rule flashing through her mind. Regardless of the inevitable outcome, she idolized Arturia and was proud to be of the same blood. She was everything to her, which was why the rejection hurt more than any battle-forged injury ever could.

For her newfound friend to just blatantly tell her how he couldn't recognize her as a king infuriated her. What did he know? He wasn't there under her rule. He was another king from another time. The same goes for Gilgamesh, but at the very least the King of Heroes acknowledged her father as a king if his rare declarations of 'love' were any indication whenever he encountered her. She had just about enough of heari-

"If I may interject with my conversation protocols, mister Iskandar," The robot bartender beeped, drawing the curious stares of the two servants. Mordred paused her fuming briefly. "You were all kings with individual confirmation bias. What legitimate authority would any of you three possess to declare who was right and who was wrong?"

There was silence as Iskandar looked at the robot, a machine whose bias was completely removed and looked at everything in logical fashion. A small grin slowly come back to his face. Mordred caught the grin and stared at him, angry and confused. "...Iskandar?"

"None. In truth, we were all right," Iskandar proclaimed, making Mordred look at him confused and shocked. Her anger partially dissipated at what seemed to be a reversal of everything he declared.

"What do you mean by that? How can all of you be right? Someone has to be wrong!"

"We were all right and all wrong to different lengths. We each ruled in our own design, and all of us were remembered to this day. All of us were successful," Iskandar began, his new frown remaining though he chuckled. "Whether or not any of us were actually right isn't what mattered, since we all became heroic spirits. While I don't agree with the way she ruled, nor what she wished, my statement that she was wrong is only my opinion in the end, as were their own observations about my reign. Even no longer acknowledging her as another king is just another opinion. We were just kings berating other kings."

Mordred narrowed her eyes, now more confused than before. She growled, "So why did you criticize my father so severely then!?"

"She attacked first," Iskandar rebutted with a tiny smirk. "As a military leader renown throughout the world, it is only proper I counter attack swiftly and powerfully after war has been declared. Strategies aren't limited to the battlefield. Whether I was right or wrong, I defend myself, though I will admit I may have gone too far in my heavy criticism. Maybe that's my own shifted perspective now, having spent months with other royalty with even more variety of reign."

"So, do you still think my father is not a true king?" She threw out the lure.

"I am uncertain. She is noticeably different now, but that sad dream and wish may still remain," Iskandar mentioned plainly. "I have been giving her the benefit of the doubt for now, though your father does not know. I just hope she'd find a better solution to her heart's dilemma. Her dream is too sad."

She felt her anger slowly dissipating, a blank expression taking form before she sipped from her ale; The knight's potential outburst was calmed, and she found herself shrugging off the past argument thanks to the revelation of his current opinion. He took another sip from his ale before continuing, "If I were to be honest, she would have lost more respect from me had she not defended herself and her saintly ideal so strongly. The King of Knights held firm to her current decisions and ideal, and that is something I can never argue with. I respect her for that."

'Holds firm to her decisions,' Mordred echoes in her mind. She didn't visibly cringe, but her heart stung.

Did that mean she never had a chance since coming to Chaldea? She was the mistake she wanted to undo? Everything Iskandar revealed in the last conversation shadowed her mind, blanketing any remaining anger she had over him insulting her father in a past war. She was the reason everything had crumbled in the end, regardless of Lancelot's affair or Morgan's meddling. She felt her jealousy and thirst for recognition drove Camelot into the ground, and everything else was just a convenient tool that helped her do so. She cringed at the thought she lost far before her chance at redemption began.

"But that was then," Iskandar mused out loud as he slammed his empty mug back to the table. "To say I was surprised how different she acts here is an understatement. That emotionless king can be seen smiling and enjoying herself among diverse company. She has even reconnected with one of her greatest knights, and his loyalty to her shows me a very different perspective on how her subjects viewed her! While I'm not shocked she's still partially cold to me after such demeaning words, I can at least say she seems different enough from the stoic, martyr king that she embodied!"

Iskandar turned to his friend, who was no longer angry with him, with a small smile. "And maybe with that change, her opinion of you has shifted as well. Many have changed their outlook in their time in Chaldea, so maybe she is one among them! But there's only one way to find out, isn't there?"

She paused in silence, looking uncertainty towards the King of Conquerors but showing a blank expression. "I guess you're right…"

"Cheer up, Mordred! Chaldea is the home of second chances!" Iskandar declared with a gentle pat on the back. "I wish you the best of luck, though instinct tells me you'll be just fine."

Mordred looked at Iskandar in a new light that night. She had never intended for anything to go that deep in conversation, coming along just to enjoy some drink and company. Instead she found something significantly more meaningful, and during that night. She saw a different side to the rider most in Chaldea highly regarded.

He was dead honest to a fault, but as he quickly shifted the conversation back to light jokes and friendly banter, she found herself enjoying her time once more and shelving her uncertainty about her father's feelings aside. The conversation was rather deep and unexpected, but insightful in a way only the King of Conquerors could have revealed to her before casually returning to alcoholic banter. She grinned a small yet toothy smile and shook her head at his latest joke, making the rider raise an eyebrow before taking a quick sip of his next refilled mug.

"Oh? But unleashing Clarent would make for an incredible opener for my vanguard to exploit!"

"Don't think for a second you can recruit me into your personal armies like you did Waver."

He boomed in his signature laughter. "Ah, forgive me! I didn't mean to infer that. As interesting an idea as that would be, you are already a Knight of the Round Table! I am proud enough to consider you a friend!"

'Was...' she thought dejectedly but decided to refrain from airing her thoughts. She simply smirked back and clinked her glass against his mug when he offered. With countless thoughts and new insight now racing through her mind, she made a silent vow to not let any of it go to waste. She had waited long enough, and if what she was told was any indication, she had a heavier apology to give; It didn't help Mordred was horrendous at apologies. She took another sip as El-Melloi and Kintoki walked into the bar, making Iskandar wave them over excitedly as she chuckled.

She would hopefully make her move tomorrow, so until then, she had a longer night ahead.

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"Have a nice afternoon, Boudica."

"You too, Arturia!" Boudica waved as she parted from the fellow British royal at the entrance to Salon de Marie. The red headed rider quickly disappeared down a different hallway with bundles of quilts in her arms. Mordred watched as Arturia walked into the salon and disappeared, the feint sounds of Mozart playing an intricate piece easily audible from within the room.

With hands in another pair of slim fit jeans, Mordred gathered her determination. The snow fell outside the large, windowed hallway as she made her way forward. She had left her leather jacket in her room and wore a black polo instead in an attempt to look more presentable without appearing formal. Her sneakers quietly stepped towards the intersecting corridor as she gathered her practiced lines in her head, silently going over them last minute to ensure no screw up. She would never admit she had stayed up a little later in an attempt to memorize them, and was feeling extra tired after a full lunch with Jekyll.

Tired she was, for she failed to realize she was being followed by a well-built man until he cleared his throat loudly, making her turn in curiosi- her gaze hardened upon seeing the man in tan slacks and a blue polo standing barely a few meters away. The falling snow outside the window could have melted from the heat of their stares.

"Is there a reason you've been stalking the King, Mordred?" Gawain demanded as he glared at the infamous knight.

Mordred glared back. "It wasn't for any sinister reason, if you must know."

"Somehow I doubt that," He spat sarcastically as he took two steps closer to her to make sure his height was extra obvious. "…Knight of Treachery."

"I haven't done anything in the time-"

"And how do we know you're not scheming it? How long have you patiently waited before seizing the throne?" Gawain chastised with subdued force, making sure he didn't potentially alert his king within the large room. The soft piano music from within proved he was successful. Employees and robots were already keeping a fair distance upon sight from the ends of the corridors. "Don't think for a second your word means anything to me!"

Mordred scoffed. "What happened to the virtuous knight and his honor? I have done nothing to warrant your aggression."

Gawain scoffed back. "Camelot was enough, Mordred, and don't you dare think a traitorous girl like you has the right to talk of chivalry after your heinous acts!"

"Don't you dare call me that again!" She roared, causing Mozart to miss a note and slowly halt his piece from within. The surrounding area was now deathly silent as Gawain narrowed his eyes further. "Should you dare, I shan't hesitate to make you regret it!"

"Tch. Cease making a big deal out of genders. It marks no difference. My king's gender didn't matter. King Arthur or King Arturia, it never mattered. She is my king, and I will treat her with the reverence she always deserved as the greatest of all!" Gawain declared with grit teeth as he glared down Mordred's own harsh gaze without wavering. "If anything, my respect grew, since I treat women with higher regard. In that case I shall happily concede and call you a he, because girl or not, I will never come to treat you with respect again."

Her fury ignited, but she refrained from action. In her utmost respect to Gudao and Gabrielle, she wouldn't attack. Instead she thought of a harsh, verbal comeback before she noticed Gawain's eyes widen slightly and his back straighten. She knew full well who was now standing behind her, if only because the presence was so regal, strong, and refined... "Gawain. Mordred… What is the meaning of this?"

"It is nothing you should be concerned about, your majesty," Gawain assured as he took a step to the side, placing a hand over his heart and bowing slightly. "Please forgive the disturbance. Mordred… just thought it was in her rights to stalk you like an assassin and then proceed to make a scene when confronted. I was simply correcting her and we got carried away."

Mordred's rage flared as she bared her teeth and clenched her fists while the snowfall outside the window increased. Glaring at Gawain with pure malice, he simply looked back with a blank expression which infuriated her further. A throat clearing behind her drew her attention. Her demeanor relaxed partially as she looked back to meet the stern gaze of her father. The simple blue, conservative dress she wore, which made her look stunning in the snow diffused light, did nothing to dampen the hard, judging stare she was giving Mordred, who felt her heart sting upon the sight.

"Mordred. This is disappointing. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Silence followed. Gawain quietly scoffed, which she heard clearly. Arturia's condemning gaze failed to falter. Mordred's fists refused to loosen, and her teeth felt like they would shatter. Without another sound or word, she growled and stomped back down the windowed hallway she had come down.

She needed to go to the training ground to spar; Anyone would do, she just needed to vent. She'd take her anger out on the mountain if she had to. She ignored the calls for her name from behind, regardless if it was from her father or not, as she stormed away. Employees and robots instantly dove to the sides of the hallway to let the furious saber pass. As she stormed, she tried going through as many different thoughts and possibilities as she could to break her train of thought. Whatever she tried was doomed to fail, as visions of spars and destructive release was replaced...

...with the disappointed gaze that was shot directly at her from Arturia that endlessly flashed through her mind.

The blank expression she received from her father so many times was preferable to that disappointing look. It stung like she couldn't believe, sharper and more painful than the lance that struck her down on that hill so many centuries ago. With clenched fists and slight hissing, she stormed down the hallways without looking. As she continued to try and break her train of thought, she ran into another servant but barely bounced back, such was the momentum of her charge. Thankfully the larger man didn't get knocked down from the force of the impact when she abruptly turned the cor- 'wait, large man?'

"Oho, Mordred! We need to stop turning corners into each other! Sooner or later one of us will spill a drink!" No. As friendly as Iskandar was this was not what she needed right now. She had to get away and go somewhere private.

"Oho… Mordred…" The saber did not answer. She shrugged off his large hands as he placed them gently on her shoulders. She quickly went around the large rider and swiftly disappeared down the hallway towards the elevators. She needed to escape and find a way to unleash tension.

Iskandar watched as the occupants of the elevator quickly cleared out and Mordred charged in, hiding her face and driving people away with an aura of pure fury. Even Dantes, who happened to be walking by the elevators, paused to note the wave of emotion she was emitting. As the elevators closed, she trembled in anger and attempted to refrain from- She gripped one of the elevator's bars and tore it off, letting out an angry yell as she twisted the offending metal to try and release anger sooner.

She seethed. She growled. She furiously twisted the poor scrap... But Mordred does not cry.

So then what were those glistening trails Iskandar was allowed to witness before she escaped his attempted comfort?

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If the knight was grateful for anything, it was that Iskandar didn't bring up what had happened barely hours earlier as they made their way towards the Deployment Room with Lord El-Melloi II. Except for Mordred, who was still wearing her earlier clothes, the other two were in battle attire upon receiving an urgent message from Gudao about the singularity that afternoon. It was silent as they walked, but it was strangely comfortable. It certainly beat having to answer difficult inquiries about earlier.

All three wore serious expressions as they made their way down the hallway. There were several other servants in small groups behind and in front of their own as they walked. From what Roman had explained, the singularity Gabrielle was handling alone had spiraled out of control and turned into a malignant designation. It was apparent that a Japanese oni had gotten several times more powerful than she originally was, causing the original team to request immediate reinforcement to help defeat the opponent. Normally a reinforcing call was usual, but the urgency wasn't.

Five of the original team were already down and requiring a medevac back to Chaldea, leaving only three left to hold the line.

It would be down to two while Mashu kept the leyshift connection for the reinforcements with her shield.

"I thought this was supposed to be a supply sortie," Mordred stated, looking towards the other two as El-Melloi shook his head.

"It was. Obviously, something went terribly wrong if it went to such a dangerous level of malignancy," he responded rhetorically, a scowl on his face with slight uncertainty and confusion in his eyes.

Iskandar looked to Mordred and inspected her clothing once more. "A shame you're not on the relief team. It would have been nice to charge together with you against a fearsome opponent."

Mordred grinned. "Maybe next time, yeah?"

The trio stopped at the door as Iskandar held his fist out towards Mordred, a small grin on his face. She turned to him and slammed her own fist against his in a friendly bump, though it would have been bone shattering to a normal person. "Have fun!"

Iskandar bellowed with laughter. "You know me! Looking forward to it!"

"See you later tonight for fighter night, hopefully," the caster stated with a small wave and smirk which she returned.

The two disappeared down the remaining tiny corridor to the chamber, flanked only by an emergency closet and the control room hallway's elevator. As she watched them go, she silently thanked the large rider that he wasn't much of the prying type and respected her space and demeanor; She was definitely not keen on the idea that he might have possibly inquired about her distressed state but was glad he simply let it be. Turning down a different corridor, the knight walked away to possibly pester Jekyll who she knew was taking a break at the moment.

Further down the hallway, Arturia had seen what had occurred between Mordred and Iskandar and continued to stare silently. Jeanne stood confused next to her, only having just turned the corner after wishing Amakusa and Dantes good luck before they began walking down the hallway towards the chamber. She looked like she wished to ask, but she let her friend stare past the two men with slight shock at what she had witnessed between her child and the rider.

Arturia knew very well she wasn't close to her son by any means but was, until then, blissfully unaware of who had been keeping her company.

She was glad she had some close people she could trust, but to see one of them being a rowdy king who had denounced her rule in a past war left her with conflicted feelings. It was very obvious that they were much closer than she would have ever suspected the knight and king to be, and it knocked all previous thoughts from her mind. She wasn't even disappointed in her earlier behavior anymore. There were many feelings upon seeing the grin on Mordred and Iskandar's faces and their bumping fists in a show of cordial will, but there was one undeniable sensation that defeated them all.

It hurt.

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CONTINUITY NOTICE: Fragment 22 isn't next chronologically

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The next piece in chronological order is supplemental story "Their Guiding Light". It is the development of Arturia and her Knights of the Round Table. It is highly recommended to read the entire story next, though it is still fine to continue reading Fragments without it. As stated before, this is a Short Story Cycle (Interconnected One Shots), with every supplement story counting as a giant entry. They are separated only because of the thematic shift and length.

There will be relationship/friendship/character developments and scene references that will not make sense if you continue to Fragment 22.