Fate: Oppression

by Gavius

Alaya is gone. The Counter Force is gone. Without them, the Throne of Heroes released all the Heroes on Earth against the planet's will. When Gaia sensed that the World is on the brink of collapse, she sent its First Hero to fix the mess. Now, Shirou Emiya has to save the day once again. What can a Retired God, a Treacherous Knight and a Boastful King do to save the planet? [AU]

11. Chapter 10 - Interlude I of II

DISCLAIMER: I do not take credit from the Fate universe and its characters. The rights and credits go to the original authors.

Read the notes in the first chapter if you haven't done it already.

This is my very first story. I'm confident in my grammar, but if there are any mistakes, then let me know and I'll try to figure out how to fix them as soon as I have time.

Hope you enjoy.

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FATE/Oppression
-Interlude-

Chapter 10

Planet: Earth
Date: May 18 2020
Location: Arthur's Seat – Holyrood Park (Edinburgh - Scotland)

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Arthur's Seat.

One of Edinburgh's most popular tourist attractions, with thousands of locals and tourists alike tackling the peak every year whatever the weather.

The site itself wasn't so much a seat as an impressive rock formation. Arthur's Seat was actually part of a volcano, which overlooked the city of Edinburgh. Thankfully, the volcano was extinct, having first erupted around 350 million years ago and since eroded and glaciated to its current size. Despite the fact that the whole range of volcanic hills was often referred to as Arthur's Seat, it was actually just the largest peak that was originally given this name.

Some people also referred to the landmark as the Lion's Head, due to the fact that from certain angles the range resembled a crouching lion ready to pounce.

The site was situated in the south-east of the city, to the east of the Royal Mile and overlooking Holyrood Park. However, everyone could feel its awe-inspiring presence from anywhere in the city due to its huge 823 feet high peak. This allowed Arthur's Seat to boast some of the most amazing 360-degree views for miles round. This, combined with its conveniently central location, made Arthur's Seat one of Scotland's most popular hiking trails among tourists. For people visiting Edinburgh for the first time, there was no better way to get your bearings than to gaze down at Edinburgh's streets and landmarks from this picturesque peak.

But that, of course, always held true except for this moment.

The top of the rock formation was currently empty, lifeless, with no soul around it. And despite the fact that the red sunset on the horizon was breathtaking to see, the view it offered from up there wasn't actually the best. Not anymore. Edinburgh, usually visible in all its glory and magnificence, was now a ravaged city plagued by flames and smoke. The immensity of the destruction was visible to the naked eye. Whole sections and neighborhoods destroyed, buildings collapsed or heavily damaged, countless monuments ruined... it was a horrible, terrible sight. A painful reminder of its former glory. And to think that all this chaos could have been prevented only twenty-four hours ago... it was a depressing thought.

But as depressing as it was, that was the one and only thought of the occupants currently seated on Arthur's Seat.

Mordred and Iskandar remained seated on the ground close to a small bonfire lit on the peak of the rock formation, surrounded by their interlocutors. It was an interesting sight; one you didn't see very often. Rin and Gray glanced nervously at them across the small bonfire, sitting side by side, while Gawain and a still wounded and battle-worn Bedivere glared at the two Servants from the other side. Mordred was beautifully ignoring them both, her green eyes filled with angry frustration as they watched solely the impassive and statuesque face of Artoria sitting next to Waver Velvet.

When the battle that had devastated the city ended after the defeat of Caster – and especially after the unexpected appearance of a certain Ruler who had prevented another clash from breaking out – Lord El-Melloi II had miraculously managed to calm them all, and convinced them to have a small talk. A chance to discuss peacefully among them. And what better place to talk than a barren, desolate top of a lonely hill, where no one would ever think of coming to disturb them given the current state of the city and the chaos that still lingered in the capital?

The tension was palpable in the air.

Shirou sighed. It was the third time he had done so in three minutes. With a shake of his head, he concentrated on his current task: making dinner. He was cooking a small broth of meat and vegetables over the bonfire, mixing together some of the food supplies he and his companions had previously bought in America and adding a little spice to improve the flavour. While it wasn't an incredible dish, it still was a decent meal. A meal that would restore them all and make them recover their energy. Gray, Rin, and Waver needed food, being simple humans and tired after all the shit they've been through; and Mordred and the Knights, especially, were the most exhausted after the 'fighting' they had faced. Bedivere above them all, thanks to a certain someone.

Hence, the God of War served him first. "There you go, sir Bedivere," he said, handing him a bowl of soup.

The Knight accepted it with an uncertain smile. "T-Thank you, Mr. Emiya," he said with a strained face, still struggling to hide the shame he was feeling inside.

Shirou smiled at him. Unlike Cu Chulainn, he had managed to heal Bedivere thanks to his regenerative abilities, allowing him to regain consciousness before dinner. The blue Lancer, on the other hand, was still unconscious, and although his body was in stable condition and out of danger, it was impossible to know when he would be able to awaken again. The possession from Caster must have had a heavy effect on his body. Therefore, the group had had no choice but to hide him in the private jet the Clock Tower had offered to Lord El-Melloi II in order to get to the capital, keeping the Lancer safe while the others faced this 'discussion'.

"Just Shirou is fine," the red-haired man assured the Knight, casting a cold glance at Mordred. The girl stiffened and looked to the ground with a flinch under at his cold, powerful gaze. Even Iskandar gave her a judgmental look. "Now that we've cleared that what happened between you and Mordred was a misunderstanding, there is no reason to continue this hostility," Shirou continued, addressing not only him, but everyone present with his statement. "All of this could have been avoided if a certain someone had deigned to explain her mission when she first met you."

Mordred flinched further. Then, she let out a low growl as she glared at Bedivere. "I had no reason to explain anything to an enemy Servant," she spat.

Everyone tensed as they heard her angry, ferocious tone. Artoria above them all. Gawain was ready to say something, but someone beat him to the punch.

Shirou rounded on his friend, his face a mask of solemn and cold fury. Even the bold, foul-mouthed Knight of Treachery couldn't hold back the terror on her expression when she saw the threat hidden in those amber eyes.

"Kid, for your own sake, you'd better shut up right now. I've already dealt with enough nuisances for a single day. My patience has a limit."

She glared at him. "He started it!"

"Yeah, but you didn't need to continue it," he retorted seriously. "You could have ignored him, or simply explained to him that you had another goal."

"Or, you could have warned us," Iskandar added seriously. For once, his cheerful and boastful demeanour was completely gone, replaced by a serious and purposeful expression. "We agreed that we would have contacted the others as soon as we'd found something. Remember that, Saber?"

"We also agreed that we had to destroy everything that stood in our way," she hissed in response, crossing her arms with a scowl. If it wasn't for the contrite expression on her face, she almost would have seemed resolute in her statement. Almost.

Bedivere lowered his eyes to the ground. "...No, I'm the one at fault here," he spoke in the end, getting everyone's attention. "I... I should have been more careful. More judicious. I shouldn't have assumed that sir Mordred had negative intentions simply because of our past. I-I acted brashly, and in doing so I stained both my reputation and my King's honor. This time... it's me you guys should blame for what happened. I apologize," he admitted through gritted teeth, clenching his fists in frustration and shame under his King's stare.

Pure silence followed his confession. Waver Velvet and the girls said nothing, but Artoria and Gawain looked at their friend with distressed looks, unable to reply or say something to reassure him. After all, even if to a lesser extent, they too had made the exact same mistake as him when they first saw Mordred, jumping to conclusions and acting in a hostile way towards their former ally. This had stained their honor too. And because of this, they had no right to judge or reprimand him.

And so, silence ruled for a long while among the peak of Arthur's Seat.

Mordred grunted with a pleased face, her expression growing smug by the second.

Shirou ended her enjoyment with a sudden glare, making her pout promptly. Then, he sighed with another shake of the head. He simply chose to ignore this matter for the moment and move on. They couldn't keep arguing about the same thing again and again. There were a lot of answers he needed, and he'd be damned if he chose to waste time for something like this.

When he had given everyone a bowl of soup, he sat down next to his companions and they began to eat in a tense, cold silence under the waning sunset.

Then, when everyone took the first bite, their eyes widened all of a sudden.

"T-This is..." Lord El-Melloi II muttered with a stunned face, amazed beyond words.

Rin and Gray gasped at the same time, staring at the soup with stunned, impressed eyes. Gawain and Bedivere paused on their left, and even Artoria raised her eyebrows in stupor, her expression softer and more relaxed than before.

Iskandar grinned after taking a bite. "By the gods... you should really cook more often, boy," he commented with a sly grin, nodding to himself. He began to stare at his companion as if he was a treasure.

The God merely raised a brow at him. "You think so?"

"Are you kidding me? T-This is good! Way too good compared to the other meals!" Mordred exclaimed as well, staring incredulously at the bowl in her hands. She too seemed as if she was looking at a newly discovered treasure. Her emerald eyes were shining in pleasure as she stared inquisitively at him. "Since when can you cook so well? You never told us before!"

He shrugged. "It's just a hobby that I picked up in life. But it's not worthy of such reactions. I'm not that good."

"N-Not true. It's really good, Shirou. Really," Gray commented with a bashful smile under her hood, taking another sip.

"I agree, this is a really great dish, Ruler. To think a Servant could be so skilled in cooking... I'm impressed, truly," Lord El-Melloi II admitted as well, giving a nod to the red-haired Servant with a careful expression.

Shirou scratched the back of his neck, growing a bit embarrassed. "Come on… it's not that great," he tried to say again.

"Ruler."

Everyone's eyes fell on Artoria. The King of Knights took a sip of the soup, then squared her shoulders, regal and composed as ever. She raised her head, quickly adjusting her expression as it twitched for a second in... enjoyment? Pleasure? It was hard to tell. In the end, she offered the red-hared man a determined look. "It's good," was all she said.

No one dared to go against the blonde King's declaration. Shirou coughed in embarrassment. When he regained his composure, he smiled at the other's astonished expressions. "Thank you. I'm glad you like it," he simply said to them all, accepting their compliments with a knowing smile. Of course, he didn't really think he was good at cooking, but he was used to it. After all, after thousands of years spent alone and with the need to hunt food and cook for your own survival... you pick up a thing or two. All the more with the current knowledge Gaia had given him after being sent here. It was simply inevitable.

Not that he would ever say that out loud, though.

Silence descended into the air oce again. While everyone kept eating in peace and quiet, Iskandar looked at Artoria with an unreadable expression. His red eyes studied her for several seconds before anyone noticed. And when they did, the following question was inevitable.

"Is something the matter, King of Conquerors?" Gawain asked, glancing at him with narrowed eyes. "Why are you staring so much at our King?"

That question made both Bedivere and Gray jump in surprise. Even Mordred shot a confused glance at the giant Rider, along with Rin. Shirou and Waver remained calm instead, silently watching the scene unfold with a calculating gaze and unreadable faces. Artoria, for her part, remained impassible as ever, even under the taller man's powerful gaze.

Iskandar merely smiled with his trademark grin. "Heh. I was just curious. This is the first time I've met a King. A true King like me. Not to mention that our young Saber here has told us a lot about 'him'," he explained, patting Mordred on the shoulder. The girl rolled her eyes in annoyance at his antics, but she remained silent. The Rider looked again at Artoria, straight in her eyes. "It's not often that I get to meet a famous and world-renowned ruler like King Arthur. I'm just observing her out of curiosity, that's all."

Artoria closed her eyes with regal and collected grace. "I'm honored that the King of Conquerors knows about me and my legend," she replied cooly, making Iskandar grin at her reply.

Mordred scoffed under her breath. "Tch. Yeah. Works every time," she sarcastically grumbled out-loud.

Gawain shot her a poisonous look. "Watch your tone and manners, sir Mordred."

She glared at him, ready to argue, but someone reacted faster.

Shirou didn't say anything. He didn't even do anything. He simply, slowly, raised one arm above Mordred's head, clenched a fist, and fixed her with a sharp, emotionless stare.

For some reason, this was enough. The female Knight paled in an instant, and immediately covered her head with her hands, sweating profusely. Then, like a child ready to be scolded by her parents, she fell silent, lowering her gaze and grumbling with an angry pout. Her previous irritation disappeared completely under the red-head's menacing face, much to everyone's surprise except Iskandar and Gray (the latter sweat-dropped with a giggle).

Seeing that the kid had decided to behave herself, Shirou relaxed and pulled his arm back, shaking his head with yet another weary sigh. He was really tired of dealing with overly-sized kids.

Many of the present were amazed by this strange interaction between Ruler and Saber, especially Artoria and her Knights. They had to resist the urge to gape in shock at that scene. Who on earth was this Ruler, to be able to silence and control even a strong and fearless warrior like Mordred? A Knight renowned for her foul mouth and temper? A warrior famous for rebelling and ignoring everyone and everything? It was unexpected. Illogical. Simply impossible to believe, actually. To say they were shocked was an understatement.

Artoria, more than the others, stared at the red-haired man with renewed interest under her stoic mask.

Shirou wasted no time changing the subject. "By the way, is it true that this peak is called Arthur's Seat?" he casually asked, glancing at her with a raised eyebrow. "I heard it on the news on our way here. Did it get this name from you, King of Knights?"

Artoria blinked in confusion.

"That's true," Lord El-Melloi II confirmed, setting his now empty bowl on the ground. Everyone's eyes fell on him. "This rock formation is linked to several legends related to the story of King Arthur. However, nobody really knows why. Some say it's simply a baseless legend."

Iskandar grinned widely, his interest piqued by that news. Even Mordred was staring at her 'father' with a narrowed gaze after that revelation. "Hoho? Truly? How interesting. To have an entire hill named after you... it must be quite the pleasant news. Isn't it, King of Knights?" he asked emphatically, folding his arms with raised eyebrows.

Artoria didn't answer. She fell silent, her mind empty and cold, her emerald eyes pointed to the horizon and the sunset with a dull gaze. Her silence lasted for several seconds, much to everyone's confusion.

Shirou studied her reaction carefully. "If I may... this place, is it linked to your legend?" he asked her slowly, trying to be discreet with his question.

The female King nodded after a while.

"It is."

Bedivere looked at her with a small smile. "Can you tell us about it, my liege?" she asked respectfully, with a small bow of the head.

Artoria said nothing, pondering to herself for a while. She didn't really like to talk about her past, if she had to be honest, but she assumed there was nothing wrong with revealing a little about herself. Just a little bit, though. She still wasn't sure if she could fully trust those people. So, she waited a couple of seconds. And waited. And waited. And waited.

Eventually, she relented to her Knight's request.

"It happened when I was still young. A few months after I pulled the sword from the stone," she began to say, both her face and gaze focused, lost in memories of a distant past. Shirou, Iskandar and all the others listened to her words with bated breath. "Merlin brought me here, telling me about the plague that afflicted these lands."

Mordred stared at her with all the attention in the world.

"Back then, the city was nothing but a small village. The land surrounding Edinburgh was plagued by a huge, ferocious dragon. When Merlin explained it to me, I insisted on doing something to help the people. So, he brought me here, and I saw it with my very own eyes. It was a huge, revolting beast; with gray scales and bat wings. It would usually circle the skies, terrify the locals, breath fire, steal precious livestock and generally getting up to the dragon-ly mischief. The people...they didn't know what to do. They were petrified of the beast and could see no way to satisfy its greed. Eventually however, this greed would become the reason for the dragon's downfall."

Shirou put a hand on his mouth, hiding a little smile.

Artoria continued her story.

"Over weeks and months and years, the dragon ate and ate and ate, taking whatever supplies and animals it wanted from the people of this land without a second thought. By the time I came here, the beast had become so greedy that it grew fat and slow. No longer the fierce monster it had once been, the dragon's constant fullness had made it increasingly lazy. Until... one day, it rested on top of this very same peak, just outside the city, for a sleep. And while the beast was asleep, I stabbed it in the heart with Caliburn, piercing its scales and flesh with a single blow."

Gray swallowed nervously. "D-Did it die right away?" she asked, almost trembling at the very thought of a beast as terrible as a dragon.

The blonde woman shook her head, but a small smile curled her lips. "Unfortunately, it didn't. But despite that, it had no way to escape or cause any more damage. As soon as the dragon woke up, I severed its head and put an end to its reign of terror and cruelty. After the beast's death, the village celebrated for two weeks and recounted my deeds for months. It was the first of many exploits I did before I officially became King and began my mission to unify the country," she explained slowly, her mind lost in memories.

The others remained silent after that story, immersed in their thoughts.

"I see. I had never heard of this story, my King," Bedivere said at last, curious and confused.

Artoria smiled. "It was long before I met you and the Knights, Bedivere. My name wasn't famous at the time. Many of my exploits before and after I drew Caliburn are still unknown, even to this day," she explained without batting an eye.

Mordred merely raised an eyebrow after the explanation, unimpressed. "...that's it? That wasn't as epic as I was expecting," she commented casually, arching an eyebrow.

Artoria and the Knights glared at her.

Iskandar laughed a bit. "Hush, Saber. Defeating a dragon was not an easy feat. Even in my own time very few were those who got lucky enough to see and defeat one," he said, stroking his beard with a pensive expression.

Indeed, Shirou inwardly agreed. Dragons were exceptionally rare and dangerous creatures, even during the Age of Gods. When the world was divided at the end of the Gods' rule, some of them were so powerful that they even managed to resist and continue to exist in the Real Side of the World despite the new rule dictated by human logic. Therefore, their power was immense. Killing an adult specimen was already extremely dangerous for several races in the Other Side, let alone for the human race. Elves were struggling to deal with them even now in that other realm, and even Shirou himself had to deal with some of them during his past. So, he knew pretty well how hard it was to defeat one.

Although, in reality, Shirou suspected something. What the female King just said, her story about the dragon... there was something wrong with the way she said it. Something that Artoria had left unfinished. He was sure of it. And how could he not be? That woman had narrated that event as if it was something trivial, something that should not cause much sensation and shock. But that was not the case. Killing a dragon was far from easy for a human being. Almost impossible, actually. The fact that she had succeeded in that feat showed her great strength and abilities even from a young age.

And besides... a lazy dragon? Killing it during sleep? Stabbing it in the heart? Bullshit. It was impossible. Dragons were able to smell humans from kilometres, miles away. It was impossible to take them by surprise without a heavy magical intervention.

Shirou's smile widened as he stared silently at Artoria. That woman was lying. She was deliberately downplaying her past feat, making it appear small and fuss-free to cover up her strenght and abilities. She was being modest, maybe; or she didn't want to be the center of attention, probably. Or, as Shirou suspected the most, she didn't want to reveal her full strenght to the enemies. A smart move, indeed. He had to give that to her. Therefore, he would hold back his curiosity and questions. For now.

But if that woman thought she could fool an old God like him... she was deeply mistaken.

Especially considering the 'invisible sword' she wielded during the battle.

Shirou's eyes narrowed. He would get his answers about that, sooner or later.

"Enough. As interesting as this story is, we're digressing too much."

Waver Velvet's voice brought everyone back to attention. The eyes of the Servants fell on the teacher of the Clock Tower again. Rin and Gray focused on him as well, confused and tense.

The black-haired Magus had crossed his arms and his legs, seated on a small, plastic chair. He was watching Shirou, Mordred, and Iskandar with a calculating, cold stare as he pondered to himself in silence.

Iskandar looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "What are you referring to, young man?" he asked him with confusion.

He remained serious. "What we were discussing earlier," he replied promptly.

"Cut the crap, doc. We've already told you everything," Mordred retorted, her face not even trying to mask her current irritation. She promptly ignored Artoria's disapproving stare. "We told you what happened to us and why we came here. We told you about our quest, our goal, and even our real identities. What more do you want from us?"

"And you expect me to believe it so easily?" he asked right back at her. "Listen to yourselves: the King of Conquerors, the Knight of Treachery, and an unknown Ruler have put aside their desire to fight, joined forces, and incredibly teamed up together in order to stop the Holy Grail War and save the world? That's pretty hard to believe, sir Knight. Trust me."

"Not harder to believe than King Arthur and his Knights joining the Clock Tower," she spat with venom, glaring at them and pointing a finger to Gray. "We even saved that girl's ass for you!"

"...sir Mordred," Gawain warned her with a growl, enraged by her tone and words, but he was completely ignored.

Shirou ended the argument before it could escalate. "So what do you suggest, Lord El-Melloi II?"

"The sec-" the man broke off. Then he coughed nervously. "That's correct. But to answer your question... what I want is proof. Guarantees that you three are sincere and have no intention of causing harm to my country and the world," he stated, deadly serious.

"...are you accusing us of lying, young man?" Iskandar asked him slowly, his gaze hard as steel after realizing the truth hidden in his previous words.

The Lord visibly paled before the Macedonian Emperor's glare. Still, he didn't flinch nor back down for a moment. Shirou had to give him credit for that. This man was pretty brave and resolute, even in front of an imposing Servant like Iskandar. "No. I am merely acknowledging my doubts, King of Conquerors. The security of the world is in danger. Edinburgh, the very same capital of Scotland, has been stormed and almost completely destroyed a few hours ago," he declared forcefully, pointing a finger at the devastated city to the foot of the rock formation. "So, as you can see, I have all the reasons to be distrustful of Servants. My suspicion is well founded, unfortunately."

"And we understand that," Shirou said promptly, nodding with a calm expression. "But I assure you, Mr. Waver, we didn't lie to you. Me and my companions... we are an unusual group, I admit... but our goal and our mission coincide with yours. If you don't believe me, you can easily contact Olga Marie Animusphere, the head of the branch of the Clock Tower in America, to ask for confirmation of our situation. As we've already discussed before, we ran into her and the Atlas Institute shortly before we arrived here in Great Britain. If you can't believe us, then she'll be able to confirm whether we are lying or not," he stated knowingly, crossing his arms with an indifferent movement.

The young Lord hesitated a couple of seconds before Shirou's certainty. Then he let out a defeated sigh.

"Then, if you really are here to help as you say... would you truly consider joining us and our cause?" he asked them seriously, trying to ignore Gawain and Bedivere's dubious looks as he spoke those words.

Mordred's response, of course, was swift and direct.

"No."

The man blinked in confusion. "Pardon?"

She glared at him with a snarl, much to Shirou's and Iskandar's exasperation. "Did I stutter? Read my lips: No... Way... In... HELL!" she hissed fiercely, her face a mask of anger. "We'll never join your pathetic, little gang. We'll do things on our own, and in our own way," she stressed, completely determined on her decision. There was simply no way she would ever join forces with her father again. It was impossible. Out of question. Period.

Mordred and Artoria glared at each other under everyone's exasperated and tense expressions.

Rin narrowed her eyes in irritation. "This is ridiculous. Your logic is flawed. Three Servants alone have no hope of stopping a war on a global scale," she said with superiority. Her tone of voice was both pedantic and scornful as she glared at the Knight who nearly killed her.

Mordred was about to retort, but Shirou put a hand on her shoulder and silenced her with a single stare. Then he turned to the others.

"As much as my partner's words are... questionable, her decision is not," he said seriously, shocking everyone present quite a bit. Even Artoria turned to him with wide eyes. "We've already had this kind of discussion with Olga Marie before. Our answer is the same as then. The three of us are not going to join the Mage's Association. Why? Because as a Ruler class Servant, I am a neutral entity, and I cannot act on behalf of others. My job, my role, is to act freely and rule the battlefield as I see fit in order to guarantee humanity's safety. I cannot submit my will and my decisions to the will of men. Especially if said men are Mages. We don't trust them, for reasons that you surely can understand. My friends have agreed on this as well. So, unfortunately, our answer to that question is still: no."

Bedivere looked at them with disbelief. "But... but this is..."

"What if they're lying?" Gawain asked, narrowing his eyes. He voiced his doubts without a second of hesitation. "What if their goal isn't what they say?"

Iskandar let out a tired sigh. "If that's what you believe, my fellow warrior, then the only solution we have left is to fight," he said in all seriousness. The tall, muscular Rider remained completely solemn and impassive while the others visibly stiffened at his words. "Is this really how it has to end? Do you really want to go that far just because you don't trust us?"

Sheer silence greeted the King's words.

Lord El-Melloi II remained still and silent for a long, long time. His eyes flickered between Shirou's impassive face, Iskandar's solemn one, and Mordred's smug, grinning one; studying them for several minutes of absolute silence. The others next to him did the same, although the Knights were busier glaring at Mordred than doing anything else. The girls remained stunned and tense as well.

Eventually, however, someone broke the silence once again.

"Enough."

Waver turned to Artoria in confusion, similarly to all the others. The three opposing Servants watched her closely after that word.

Bedivere looked at her with a serious face. "My liege?"

"Bedivere, Gawain, stand down," she spoke with absolute seriousness. Her emerald eyes glanced at the Lord and the girls too. "You guys as well. We've already made a mistake and treated them in a hostile way before. Look what happened because of this. We cannot make the same mistake. Attacking and declaring war on them is not a wise move. Trust me."

"...why are you saying that?" Waver asked.

Artoria didn't answer immediately. Instead, she stated the obvious in another way.

She pointed her gaze at Shirou.

"That man," she said. "That man is more powerful than me."

Seconds passed, followed by silence.

Then, just as expected, chaos erupted. The others remained completely shocked – flabbergasted, even – staring at her with wide eyes and mouths agape. They were floored by her words and admission, and especially by the implications of them. The Knights, especially, were more stunned than the others. They looked completely floored and uncertain now.

Artoria remained calm, gazing at the red-haired man with narrowed eyes. "I saw what he's capable of. If we attack them now... all of us will die. There is no hope against him. No chance of victory. I know."

Gawain and Bedivere stammered, recoiling as if they had been physically struck. Their King had never admitted her inferiority to an enemy before. She had never admitted defeat before a battle, nor yield without trying to resist until the bitter end. To simply admit the enemy's superiority with such calm and ease, without even batting an eye... it was surprising. Shocking. This, this was impossible. It had never happened before.

"M-My King... w-what are you saying?" they both asked, unable to understand her words and intentions.

Once again, Artoria did not answer them. She paid no mind to their shock. She didn't even care about Waver, Gray, and Rin's stunned gaze; nor did she notice Mordred's hostile expression or Iskandar's suspicious one. All that mattered to her right now was that man – Shirou – and his golden brown eyes silently focused on her.

She couldn't hold back any longer.

"Emiya Shirou... who are you really?"

The man stared at her, his face unreadable and his eyes cold. "Even if I tell you, you wouldn't believe me," he answered.

"Try me," she insisted. "If you really are a Ruler, if you really are a neutral entity, there shouldn't be any reason for you to hide your identity."

He merely chuckled, shaking his head with a mirthful expression. "Said the one who hid her greatness after defeating a dragon at fifteen years of age," he joked sarcastically, making her stiffen instantly with those words. The woman understood perfectly well what he was referring to. "You won't be able to win me through this, King of Knights."

She stilled, mentally hesitating under his knowing face. She could see that this strategy wasn't working on him, much to her confusion and frustration. However, even despite this, there was still a doubt that tormented her. A question she desperately needed to have answered, at any cost.

She didn't hesitate.

"During the previous fight... you saved my life," she said again, speaking to him, and him alone.

Shirou relaxed a bit, nodding with a careful expression. "I did."

"Why?" she questioned. "Why did you save me?"

The red-haired God blinked. Then, much to her shock, he smiled innocently, making her heart flutter and her cheeks heat for some reason. Artoria widened her eyes as she saw him put a hand on Mordred's head, ruffling her hair with a sheepish grin, much to her son's protests and embarrassment.

"Because you're my friend's father," he replied, as if it was obvious. "And I didn't want to see her sad."

The King of Knights stared at him for several seconds. Then, the seconds became minutes. The minutes remained filled with silence.

And then, she made her decision.

Artoria smiled.

"I believe you."

The Ruler grinned cheerfully. "Glad to hear that. You're much more reasonable than what Mordred told us before," he commented, shooting a confused gaze to the female Knight.

Mordred glared at him, her face a mixture of irritation, disbelief and embarrassment at the same time. She was furiously trying to get Shirou's hand off her head, failing miserably in her attempt. Iskandar openly laughed at the scene with his loud chuckle.

A small smile formed on Artoria's lips.

"My liege, are you really sure of this?"

The woman didn't even turn to Gawain. She simply nodded without batting an eye, answering the unspoken question of her friends and allies with utmost seriousness and calm. "I am. I saw Ruler's powers during our first encounter. I'm no match against him. If he truly wanted to hurt us, he could have killed us right away. He didn't. So, he's telling the truth. I see no reason why a powerful Servant like him should lie about something like this. And besides..."

She trailed off, confused by her own silence. As if there was something about that man she still couldn't fully understand.

"...besides?" Lord El-Melloi II pressed.

Artoria stared at Shirou with a face without emotions. "Something inside me is telling me that we can trust him," she finished in the end, nodding towards the man.

Shirou closed his eyes, hiding a little smile.

Waver studied her, long and hard. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "Very well. I suppose I have no choice but to trust your words, then," he finally admitted.

The tension in the air was abruptly subsided. Rin and Gray visibly relaxed when the Servants stopped glaring at each other.

Iskandar grinned with a bellowing laugh. "Glad to hear that, young man!"

"...I guess that's true. Seeing that both lady Gray and our King voiced for them... we shan't comply about this matter anymore. We will refrain from any hostility towards them, for now," Bedivere decided as well, taking his King's decision to heart, as always. Even Gawain accepted that outcome silently without adding anything.

Shirou smiled with satisfaction. "Then we're grateful for your cooperation. I promise you we won't get in the way of your mission and your battles. For now, of course," he added, glancing at Mordred's irritated face still pointed at her father.

Iskandar blinked. Then, he suddenly turned serious, as if he had unexpectedly remembered something. "By the way, what about Lancer?" he asked out of the blue. "Isn't he one of your comrades? Shouldn't you check on his condition?"

Lord El-Melloi II let out a weary sigh. "I guess you're right, Rider." The man rose from his chair, preparing to leave after this unspoken agreement. "Lancer is still unconscious on our plane, but we'd better check the situation in the city and then see if he's stable. We'll need to get him to London as soon as possible, given what happened to him."

Everyone stood up after his words, preparing to leave as well.

Artoria looked at Mordred, then fixed her stare on Shirou. "What will you do now?"

"None of your bu-"

The Ruler gave Mordred a small punch on the head, silencing her in an instant. The girl began massaging her head with a squeak of pain and a silent whimper, glaring at him with a betrayed expression. He merely shrugged it off. "We must continue our quest," Shirou replied. "What happened here today... we can't let it happen again. There's someone behind this War, someone who has been playing an intricate game and has made pawn of us. I need to shed some light on this matter as soon as possible. That is my mission," he said in all seriousness.

Lord El-Melloi II looked at him. "You think you can find out what's coming?"

Shirou nodded. "I do. Besides this one," he patted Iskandar's chest, making the gigantic Servant blink in confusion, much to everyone's amusement. "There's nothing that can't be explained."

Waver Velvet glanced at them. "So, how about you guys join us for a while? I know you want to keep your distance, but we can give you a ride to London. Let you visit the Clock Tower, if you're interested..." he casually suggested.

Shirou blinked, considering the offer. Then, he glanced at Iskandar and Mordred. The first one grinned without a care in the world, the second shrugged with an annoyed scowl. She crossed her arms in a resolute gesture. "As long as they don't try anything again," she hissed under her breath, glaring at Bedivere and Gawain. But aside from their mutual contempt, no one wanted to object or answer her.

The decision was made in silence. But just as he was about to relax, Shirou noticed that Artoria locked eyes with him all of a sudden, her expression determined and her eyes burning with a strong, strange gaze similar to a glare. It disappeared in less than an instant, and Artoria turned back to her Knights and Gray, ignoring him completely. But his eyes were not wrong. He had seen it clearly. That woman definitely glared at him for some reason.

Shirou forze. He knew that look. It was the same one that Mordred made when she demanded answers or had something to say to him. And he didn't like it. He didn't like it one bit.

The God of War let out a tired breath.

This was going to be a looong day.

---

Planet: Earth
Date: May 19 2020
Location: Clock Tower (London - England)

(======)

Shirou couldn't lie to himself. He was impressed.

Despite the cloudy and rainy weather that seemed to be a constant in the entire country, London was an extremely different view from Edinburgh. While the capital of Scotland had appeared mysterious, ancient, and full of history and culture; the capital of England was more difficult to pinpoint. It was a mixed bag. A mixture of chaos, history, old and new architecture and people from all backgrounds and civilizations. For this reason, to the old God, London was very reminiscent of New York compared to Edinburgh. It was a very unusual sight for him. And judging by Iskandar's and Mordred's curious and wonder-filled expressions, they too were impressed by the new capital.

But the real source of amazement for them had been the Clock Tower itself.

The Clock Tower was located at the British Museum. Specifically, the museum was where the entrance to it was situated, with the Clock Tower and its facilities being underground, extending from Regent's Park up until Westminster. Originally, the Clock Tower had only its headquarters in London, but in the hundreds of years since its establishment, and as it expanded, more facilities were added. It was the largest magical fortress in the World of Magecraft, literally, protected by hundreds of defensive contraptions and Bounded Fields of all kind and nature.

Comprising the rest of the Association were eleven of the departments which reconfigured themselves as their own college towns in the districts and suburbs surrounding London (Slur, Rocks Road, etc). The twelfth one, Mystile, the Faculty of General Fundamentals and the First Department, served as the main academic building located in the suburbs of London and had a similar appearance to Big Ben. It looked like a normal old university on the outside, due to Bounded Fields mystically and psychologically protecting against people (from physical methods like inspection zones on highways and cartographic erasure to bounded fields obscuring vision), preventing passers-by from carelessly walking in. The cityscape was a juxtaposition of contemporary and medieval architecture, with some of the buildings dating back as far as the 12th Century but still being well-preserved. The town consisted of over 40 student dormitories and over a hundred research buildings and school structures of various purposes, as well as the business districts that supplied the residents. At the center of this area, the first school built among the city buildings was what even now was referred to with reverence by Magi everywhere as the Clock Tower proper.

And that was exactly where Shirou and his friends were right now.

Lord El-Melloi II had led them into a large private office, richly decorated and filled with 19th-century furniture, art paintings and countless decorations worthy of the greatest collection of art. Now, during that windy morning, Shirou found himself sitting around a large round oak table full of fruit, drinks (especially wine) and various foods; along with Lord El-Melloi II, King Arthur himself and her Knights. And his companions as well, obviously. Gray and Rin were absent, currently busy looking after Lancer in another separate section of the Clock Tower, checking on his condition to try to figure out whether or not he could be awaken with the help of other students and Mages.

But at the moment, the situation seemed to be rather calm and devoid of tension. But Shirou knew better. Never say never. Especially when they had been forced to stay in a room with King Arthur and Mordred… together.

Nope, nothing good could ever come out of this situation.

The only one who didn't seem to care about the tension in the air was Iskandar. "Alright, then! Are you guys prepared for a rousing morning of food, wine and battles of words?" he asked in his typical boisterous manner.

The others sweat-dropped at him.

"You're pretty excited today," Mordred observed tersely, still glaring at her father.

"Of course, Saber! We are in the midst of a second debate between Kings and Servants! After all, I doubt that the young man brought us here just to show us his city and workshop," the Rider quipped with a sly grin, glancing at the black-haired Lord with an amused expression. And for once, Shirou couldn't help but agree with him. This could not be a coincidence.

"Don't worry, I haven't invited you here to persuade you again to join us," Lord El-Melloi II assured them with a sigh. He took a sip from a glass of wine before resuming to speak. "Our previous situation required haste and careful attention. Now that the threat has been averted, I think it might be beneficial to discuss other matters."

"Hah! Don't dwell on it. But what matters are you referring to, young man?" Iskandar asked again.

"The War," he promptly replied. His dark eyes fixed on Shirou with a cold, calculating stare. "Ruler said there's someone behind this Holy Grail War... and this hypothesis is something I'm inclined to agree on. I've always suspected that there was something shady behind this sudden conflict, but at the moment I have no idea of what it could be. I thought we could exchange some ideas about it."

Shirou gave him a veiled smile. "You are a smart man, Waver Velvet," he complimented him sincerely. "You're different than Olga Marie. That kid was proud and stubborn, always looking for a way to solidify her confidence and her status among the Mage's Association. But you... you're something else."

"I am but a mere teacher who both teaches and despises magic," he retorted, closing his eyes heavily. "The world of Mages... let's just say that it's a heap of corruption and elitism that has been going on for centuries. I don't wish to involve myself with that kind of madness. My only interest is the protection of my students, as well as the entire world."

"That is something we can agree on," Shirou nodded.

"Then, would you be willing to exchange information with us? In order to find out what is happening in the world?" he asked him again.

The Ruler watched the other man closely. He could clearly see that Waver Velvet was different from ordinary Mages. He was even different from Olga Marie, actually. And above all, he could see that his words and intent were sincere. Lord El-Melloi II was sincerely dedicated to a good cause. He truly wanted to safeguard the people he cared about and the stability of the planet. After all, it was really difficult to find a Magus with positive intentions and strong moral values. It was a rarity in the world of Mages.

Shirou smiled. "Now more than before, I truly believe our interests coincide, Lord El-Melloi II," he said slowly. "Very well. Even if I can't work or collaborate directly with you, I can still help you with information and details regarding this War. For what little of them I have, however."

The young teacher leaned forward slightly with his arms resting on the table. "What is it that you know?" he asked.

"That this War is a farce," he quickly replied. "I have no evidence about it, but I am convinced that this entire situation is just a pretest to hide something. The final prize, this 'Holy Grail' is just a lie. An Artifact capable of granting any wish, however absurd or unattainable it may seem... it's impossible. I don't believe in a wish-granting Artifact. And I've seen some pretty weird things in my life, trust me."

Many of the presents didn't like his answer. Especially Artoria and her Knights.

"But this is impossible," the female King spoke in all seriousness. "All Servants have been summoned exactly as the voice has told us. We came back to the world not by our own choice, but by the intervention of an entity beyond our understanding. This fact alone proves that there is someone extremely powerful behind the War. Someone or something that could even grant us a wish in the end," she noted, her voice serious and concise, as it was befitting of a King.

"Indeed. But that, however, is not enough to justify the existence of the Grail itself. Nor it can justify the destructive and disreputable acts this War is causing around the planet. Whatever or whoever is behind this madness, it's certainly not a good entity," Shirou reiterated, deadly serious.

"But this chaos you speak of, isn't it due to the behavior of some individual Servants?" Bedivere asked.

"...maybe. Or maybe not. Let's not forget that Lancer has been possessed. He has been forced to act against his will because of Mephistopheles. And my friends and I have met another Servant in similar conditions during our travels. A possessed Rider. He had been forced to fight and attack us against his will too. I doubt this situation is a mere coincidence."

The others fell silent after his words.

Shirou narrowed his eyes. "Think about it. If this War is indeed a 'predestined' or 'orchestrated' event, then why was I summoned? Why did this entity summon a Ruler class Servant despite my lack of interest in the Grail? My very same presence is proof that there is something wrong with all of this," he stated.

Sure, he was lying. He was diverting the conversation in his favor. But there was nothing but truth behind his lies. He knew it. Gaia knew it. He had been sent here by her precisely because there was something wrong with all of this. And he had to find out what it was, at any cost. There was no escaping this.

He had to fix this mess, whatever the cost.

Iskandar nodded with a solemn expression. "Saber and I also suspect something like this. There's something undoubtedly wrong with this War. However, unlike our friend Ruler here, the two of us are aware of our wish and we're still willing to fight again, should the existence of the Grail proved to be true in the end," the King of Conquerors explained.

"So you haven't given up on your wish yet," Lord El-Melloi II realized, narrowing his eyes as he glanced at Artoria.

"Tch. As if. I still want my wish granted. But if there's really something shady behind all of this, I'm not going to stay put and wait to be screwed in the end," Mordred spat sarcastically, crossing her arms and glaring at the ceiling.

Shirou merely sighed when he saw the Macedonian Emperor nod at the girl's words. "Indeed. Should we eventually find or receive confirmation of the Grail's existence, Saber and I will join the battle again and we'll fight honorably to the death for the right to conquer it. But first, we must put an end to this insane destruction that is running around the world I wish to conquer. That is our current agreement," he explained with his powerful voice.

"So there is no way for you to give up the Grail, is there?" Gawain asked in all seriousness.

The gigantic Rider laughed while Mordred scoffed at her former comrade's (and relative) words. "Sorry, but that's out of the question. You see, I desire the Grail so badly I can almost taste it. I cannot simply disregard my greatest desire. And it has always been my style to just take what I want. After all, the great Iskandar is the King of Conquerors, is he not?" the taller man stated with a grin.

Artoria remained silent. Then, after a long while, she decided to speak.

"…then let me ask you this, King of Conquerors," she finally spoke. "Earlier, you said that you cannot stand the destruction that is spreading throughout the world. And yet, you're still determined to conquer it and fight for the Grail. Why?" she stared at him, looking straight into his eyes. "What makes the Grail so important to you?"

Iskandar smirked proudly. Usually, he would have been quite embarrassed to answer this question in front of other people, but now, he was already expecting it in this occasion. Moreover, it wasn't the first time he'd revealed his wish, since he'd already talked about this with both Shirou and Mordred. So, this time he responded with pride and superiority.

"Why, it's simple. I, Iskandar, wish for reincarnation! I wish for rebirth, to live as a flesh and blood man within this world in which I find myself. Then, with nothing but my body, I shall conquer every nation, build new armies, and live and enjoy all the spoils that the world has to offer!" he declared boldly, nodding to himself with a proud grin. "I could wish upon the Grail to simply give me the world, but that's not my style. I want to conquer it with my own efforts, and in my own way. Thus it begins, then proceeds, and is finished."

He smirked at Artoria's narrowed and incredulous gaze.

"Such is the path of my conquest."

The King of Knights closed her eyes, her impassive expression betraying a small degree of anger and disappointment.

"That is hardly fitting of how a King should be," she stated with conviction. She didn't even open her eyes as she spoke. "What a shame. I'm disappointed in you, King of Conquerors. To hear that you're willing to fight and die in the War just to satisfy your selfish greed-"

"And what's wrong with this wish?" Mordred cut her off abruptly. The female King opened her eyes in irritation, only to find herself in front of the ferocious glare of her son. "To hell with that! This is the Grail! Granting selfish wishes is what it's meant for! Anyone can wish for anything, and it's definitely not up to you to judge our goal, Father!" she spat menacingly, leveling a harsh glare on the older woman.

Gawain growled fiercely. "How dare you! Don't tell me that you wish to conquer the world too, sir Mordred!"

"Of course not! But I'm not going to reveal what I want only to be insulted without restraint by a heartless and emotionless King like him!" she retorted, her growl more animalistic than human.

The tension became unbearable after those words. Artoria physically flinched, as if she had been slapped in the face, but her Knights snarled in outraged fury. They neraly moved their hands to reach their blades. Not that the Knight of Treachery cared, though. The air literally became thick with prana as Mordred glared at Artoria, Bedivere and Gawain, challenging them with her eyes. It was almost possible to see small electric flashes flickering between the four of them as they stared at each other. Lord El-Melloi II visibly paled at that scene.

"She's got a point."

They all turned to the person who had spoken those words.

Shirou looked at Artoria with a solemn expression. "I have no interest in this war, nor a wish to fulfill thanks to this Grail... but judging and despising someone else's wish is an inconsiderate and arrogant move. Everyone has their own desires and dreams, and no one can afford to judge them without a proper reason. Not even you, King of Knights," he said with decision.

She stared at him with narrowed eyes.

The Ruler smiled when Mordred looked at him with a smirk of gratitude. Then, he focused back on Artoria's harsh expression. "But if you are so sure of what you say, why don't you guys tell us your wish?" he asked again, pedantic. "Surely you guys too have selfish dreams to fulfill, since you have been summoned back in the world. Am I right?"

Bedivere raised his head with superiority. "Wrong. I have no desire for the Grail," he declared all of a sudden, surprising the others with his statement. "My one and only desire is to serve the King to whom I have sworn allegiance in life. A desire that has already been granted, as you can see."

"That goes for me too," Gawain agreed, staring at his King with pride and decision.

And yet, Iskandar smiled knowingly. "And what about you, King of Knights?" he pressed again. "Let us hear what you would say. What is your wish for the Grail?"

Artoria hesitated. She stared long and hard to the three of them. She looked at Shirou, at Iskandar, and even at Mordred's enraged face for a long time, unsure of how to react.

Then, in the end, she finally made her decision.

"I wish for my homeland's salvation," she declared with a resolute tone of voice. "With the Grail, with that omnipotent wish-granting device in my hands, I shall avert Britain's fate of destruction."

Sheer silence greeted her declaration.

Seconds passed, followed by minutes.

Then, slowly, Iskandar narrowed his eyes. "Hey, King of Knights…" he began to say, his voice low, deep, and filled with seriousness. "Did you just say that you would change fate? Does that mean that you wish to change the past?"

She stared at him with cold, impassive resolution. "Indeed. Even if it's a wish that a miracle alone cannot fulfill, if the Grail is truly omnipotent like the voice said, then surely it will be possible to achieve my dream thanks to it."

Mordred remained still, her eyes wide and her face a mask of blank, cold disbelief. She didn't say a word, much like Shirou himself, who looked torn between being amused or stunned.

But even the Knights, Bedivere and Gawain, seemed to be more silent than ever right now.

The King of Conquerors narrowed his eyes even further, his expression growing grim. "Um… just so I am clear on this… it was during your time that your country, Britain, fell? When you were alive, therefore under your rule?" he asked her again.

She clenched a fist under the table. "Yes. That is why I cannot allow it. That is why I regret it. I want to alter that outcome, for it was I and no other who was to blame."

Unbeknownst to her, her very own Knights trembled, their expressions devastated and floored.

Mordred lowered her head, her eyes shadowed by her bangs as her shoulders trembled a little. "And how do you wish to do it?" she asked her solemnly. Her voice was low, frighteningly low, as she spoke those words. "By wishing for my premature death? Or wishing I was never born instead?"

Artoria just shook her head. "No, Mordred. Nothing of the sort."

Her face suddenly became full of remorse and regret.

"I wish for someone more worthy to have drawn Caliburn from the stone. For someone more suited than me to become King. At least then, Britain would have a chance at survival. It would ha-"

SLAM.

The table was cracked by a fist. A sudden, powerful, mighty and pissed-off fist.

Artoria looked at her son with wide, shocked eyes.

"...are you kidding me?" the Knight of Rebellion hissed. "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!?" she roared, outraged and furious beyond words. There was no way to describe the amount of anger and betrayal she was feeling inside after that revelation. The girl's face was decidedly more feral than usual. So much so that to Artoria it seemed to be in front of a Berserker, not a Saber like her.

Her emerald eyes wavered. "M-Mordred..."

"Shut up!" she yelled. "Shut the fuck up, ARTHUR! Am I a joke to you? Do you really hate me so much that you feel disgusted just thinking about what happened between us?"

"W-What are you sa-"

"All my life! All that shit about rejecting me as your heir, fighting me to cling to your power, our killing each other… and now you want to just give the throne away to someone else anyway?" she roared in a furious, outraged voice.

Clearly, this fact did not sit well with Mordred. At all.

Iskandar glared at the blonde King as well. "King of Knights… surely you don't mean that you would erase the marks that you yourself have left on history?" he asked, looking at her with criticism.

"I do!" Artoria replied vehemently, her face finally starting to show her inner turmoil and desperation. "Camelot fell because of my mistakes, my inability to rule. That's why I have the duty, the obligation to remedy the past! I must save my country, my people form that horrible fate! But then, why are you so angry about it, Mordred? Why are you looking at me like that, Rider? Why do you find it stra-"

"THAT'S IT!"

Mordred wasted no time. She jumped up from the table, knocking her chair to the ground with a burst of red energy and prana. Then, she sprinted towards the door, her face a mask of rage, fury and outrage; her lips and teeth bared in a snarl as she turned her back to Artoria and all the others in the room.

The female King startled. "M-Mordred! Wait! Mordred!"

"Shut up!" she spat with venom. "Shut your fucking mouth, Arthur!"

Artoria gasped, as if she had been slapped by those words. And inside her heart, actually, it had really happened. Even the Knights were so shocked by her abrupt reaction that they couldn't even say something to stop her.

The female Knight didn't turn to look at her. She didn't even glance at her. And nobody moved to stop her, much to the King's shock. Neither Iskandar, nor Shirou.

And the Knight of Treachery continued her rambling.

"You're no longer my King! You're no longer my lord! You're no longer the one I look up to!" she declared with contempt, shocking her with those words. "Now, you're just an enemy to me, Arthur. And I refuse to stay in your presence even a second longer. And do you know why? Can you understand why? Or are you so full of yourself that you can't even realize what's happening right now?"

Artoria did not answer. She couldn't answer. She couldn't.

Mordred glanced at her, her emerald eyes filled with unshed tears and hatred. "...I thought so. What was I expecting? Tristan was right, after all."

And then, Mordred opened the door and walked away...

...but not before saying her last, parting words. The very last words that not only her, but another person had said to the King during her life.

The very same words that still haunted Artoria even now, like a never-ending curse.

"A King without emotions does not understand the hearts of men."

Artoria felt her back shiver in horror and shame.

But by the time she found the strength to speak again, Mordred was already gone without saying anything else.

And the silence had returned once again.

Lord El-Melloi II swallowed. "What… just happened?" he tried to say.

Iskandar turned to the red-haired Ruler. "Should I call her back?"

"No. Leaver her be," Shirou replied, speaking for the first time after a long while. He closed his eyes with a tired expression. "The kid needs some time on her own. Let's not disturb her for now."

Artoria turned to the God as well. "W-Why? she asked, feeling completely at loss. She didn't know why she cared so much to hear his opinion about this, but she had to ask him. She simply had to. "Why are you letting her go? Why are you so calm right now?" her expression twisted into a sorrowful scowl as she gazed upon Shirou's impassive face. "Why don't you say anything?"

He looked at her with an unreadable look. "I'm not the only one who's not saying anything," he retorted slowly, his golden-brown eyes flickering towards the other Servants in the room.

Artoria stiffened. Slowly, fearfully, she turned towards the point he was staring at; towards her own Knights. Her dearest, closest friends.

"Sir Bedivere? Sir Gawain?"

They said nothing. For once in their whole life, they didn't answer their King's call. They didn't even have the courage to meet her gaze.

The woman felt betrayed all over again.

"...why?" she whispered. "Why are you so silent?"

No answer came from them.

She clenched her hands into fists. "Do you not feel for our beloved country to which we devoted our whole life? For the sake of our nation, we should be willing to make any sacrifice! So why? Why are you remaining silent now? You should agree with me! You should-"

"They won't answer to those questions, King of Knights," Shirou cut her off all of a sudden, slowly and gently. The woman rounded on him like a cornered animal. "They're still loyal to you, but this… this dream of yours… they cannot agree with it. That's why, in order to not betray their oath and remain loyal to you, they're not saying a single word."

Artoria widened her eyes in shock. "…what?" she breathed. She turned again towards them. "I-Is this true?"

Gawain looked away, shame clearly visible on his face. Bedivere hesitated for several seconds, looking down at the ground for a long time. But then, slowly, he nodded stiffly with his head. His face was a mask of shame and sadness as he finally found his voice again. "...yes."

Artoria recoiled as if slapped, rising from her seat and staring at her faithful Knights with a stunned and shocked gaze. She shook her head in disbelief. "B-But why?"

"Their loyalty lays with you, not with your country or history, Saber." Iskandar explained slowly, his voice dripping with disappointment and criticism. "Are you really so naive that you can't understand that?"

Her face twitched, mouth curving into a scowl. "...a King's loyalty lays with their country," she replied. "To ensure their country's prosperity, a King should be willing to make any sacrifice."

"No."

The blonde woman stared at the Rider.

Iskandar watched her with cold, disapproving eyes. "A King does not devote himself. It is the nation and the people who devote themself to him. Not the reverse. Your Knights are the living proof of that."

Her eyes narrowed in rage. "What are you saying, Rider? Those are a tyrant's words!"

"Maybe so," he nodded, still staring at her with a cold, detached face. "We are Heroes because we are tyrants. However, Saber… if a King regrets his rule or its end… then that King is nothing but a fool. And that's even worse than a tyrant."

Gawain stiffened. "King of Conquerors! Please, sto-"

Artoria raised a hand, silencing him instantly.

"Iskandar," she began to say. "Your reign ended with your heirs slain, and your Empire dissolved into three parts. You… are you telling me that you have no regrets about that end?"

He nodded without the slightest trace of hesitation. "None."

The woman widened her eyes.

The Macedonian Emperor crossed his arms. Lord El-Melloi II watched him closely. "Not if it came to pass by my judgment and my retainers' sacrifices. Its destruction was inevitable." His face hardened under the woman's incredulous stare. "I shall mourn it. I shall shed tears over it. But I shall never regret it… let alone UNDO IT!" he roared.

The King of Knights flinched.

Iskandar glared with a powerful rage towards her. "Such an act would be an insult to all who fought alongside me!"

"Only brute warriors can find glory in destruction!" she replied back heatedly. "Of what worth is a King who fails to protect the powerless?" the woman failed to see the faces of her Knights become sad and heavy at those words. "A just rule with just laws: those are the true duties of a King."

Shirou watched her with careful attention, his face a mask of blank impassiveness.

Iskandar raised his chin. "So you, the King, are a slave to what is right?" he inquired further.

Artoria squared her shoulders. "…that is acceptable. A King is a martyr to their ideals."

The King of Conquerors scoffed in disdain. "That's not how a person should live…"

The woman watched him from above with a sneer of rage. "If I rule the nation as King, I cannot expect to live as a person. But that's something that you, King of Conquerors, could never understand. You, who only seek the Grail for your own benefit. You, who only fought and conquered in life because of your endless greed."

Another fist slammed on the wood. The whole table cracked and almost exploded into a thousand pieces.

"A King without greed is even worse than a figurehead!" Iskandar roared.

Bedivere and Gawain flinched. Waver gulped. Shirou, instead, watched the scene in a calm and collected silence.

And Artoria… Artoria widened her eyes in shock and fear.

The muscular Rider glared at her. "Saber," he said. "Given by what Mordred has told us, I understand that you really did martyr yourself for your ideals. Therefore, you must have been a pure saint in life, something extremely pure and bright, close to an unattainable figure. A proud and noble leader, certainly. One that inspired loyalty, given your Knights presence here and your renowed legend."

Then, his eyes narrowed.

"But answer me this: who could truly admire a martyr's thorny path? Who could ever dream of such an end?"

The King of Knights gasped as a chill descended down her spine.

Iskandar's glare intensified. "A King… a King must be greedier than any other. He must laugh more loudly and rage for longer. He must embody the extreme of all things, good and evil. That's why his retainers envy and adore him, and why the flames of aspiration, to be as the King is, can burn within his people."

She remained silent, unable to speak. It felt like her mouth was made of lead. She could only stare and gape in shock under this man's stare, and her own Knights' sorrowful look.

The other King sighed with disapproval. "Proud King of chilvary… the righteousness and ideals you embraced in life may indeed have saved your nation and your people once. However…"

His red eyes fell on the two trembling Knights next to her. Artoria's gaze followed.

"…surely you must know what became of those who were saved by you, but then left to fend for themselves."

Bedivere looked frailer now than he did after fighting Mordred.

"T-That's not true!" Gawain protested with force. "W-What happened back then wasn't the King's fault! It was our own fault! Sir Mordred's fault! Sir Tristan's fault! Lancelot's fault!" he exclaimed vehemently. "The King was never wrong! She was always perfect, always right! We dedicated our lives to her for this very same reason!"

"That's exactly the problem," the red-haired King argued, shaking his head in disdain. "Look at what happened because of your loyalty left to itself. Because of your 'perfect' King's detachment from you!"

Gawain winced as if physically struck after hearing those words. Bedivere's shoulders trembled.

Artoria felt the air in her lungs disappear without a reason.

"Knights unable to find a reason to follow their King. Allies who became enemies overnight. A Kingdom wounded and broken from within! How is this not your King's fault!? All of this happened because she lived and ruled as a martyr!"

Gawain clenched a fist helplessly.

"It... It's not... It was Mordred's fault! You have no idea of how much death, destruction and pain she caused!"

"Mordred would never have rebelled if your King had tried to connect with her!" Iskandar roared promptly. "Your allies would never have left if your King had tried to lead them sincerely! That's what you still fail to understand, you foolish Knights! You kingdom didn't fall because of Mordred or your stupid mistakes. It fell because of your King's misguided notion of kingship that broke not only her, but her whole bond with you! She failed because her idea of kingship was flawed from the beginning!"

Artoria felt her eyes began to sting.

Shirou closed his eyes, his mind filled with memories.

It was true.

The King of Conquerors stared at the blonde woman with a hard, solemn gaze. Small, invisible tears began to form in the corner of her eyes. "You saved your people, but you never led them. You cared for them, but you never showed it to them. You never showed them what a true King should be. You abandoned your men when they lost their way!"

It was true.

"And then, alone and untroubled, you followed your pretty little ideals as your kingdom cracked and the seeds of doubt and rebellion began to sprout among your ranks."

It was true.

And neither she, nor her own Knights were able to deny it.

Her emerald eyes wavered, filled with unshed tears.

Lord El-Melloi II watched her with wide eyes and mouth agape.

Bedivere and Gawain looked down with shame and regret.

Shirou stared at her with compassion.

And Iskandar glared like a judge, more inflexible and solemn than a statue.

"Thus, despite her short temper, Mordred was right. You are no true King to me," he spoke in the end, deadly serious. "You're simply a misguided woman enraptured by a false idol of a King who serves others… but not themselves."

The woman clenched her fists so hard that blood almost came out of her palms.

Iskandar glanced at his companion. "Don't you agree, boy?"

Shirou smiled a sad smile.

"Not quite."

His response shocked everyone present.

The King of Conquerors turned to him, disbelief and confusion written all over his face. "Huh? Not quite? What do you mean?" he asked, sounding more and more confused by the second.

The God of War closed his eyes, his expression unreadable. "A King who chose to be bold and greedy and lead the people thanks to his infinite desire, and a King who sacrificed everything for her kingdom and her people," he spoke. "Who is right between the two? Who is wrong?"

He merely shook his head.

"In the end, King of Conquerors, King of Knights... it doesn't matter."

"...It doesn't?" Lord El-Melloi II asked.

Shirou opened his eyes, his gaze strangely distant as he watched the two Kings. "You both gave your best in life. You dedicated your life, your own existence for an opposite cause, but in the end... in the end, both of you died without actually helping anyone. Am I right?"

Artoria and Iskandar fell silent.

The Ruler shook his head. "To embody the extreme of good and evil, or to be a martyr... in the end, both of you are right, and both of you are wrong. But I'm no King. It would be quite hypocritical on my part to criticize or agree with any of you."

Iskandar narrowed his eyes on him. "Don't tell me you seriously believe in this woman's ideals. I know you're better than that, boy."

The God of War widened his smile. "You're right, I don't believe in them," he assured him with a shake of the head. His eyes, however, remained glued always and only to the distraught face of Artoria. A face solely fixed on him.

"However, I have no right to judge them. I have no right to judge her, much less her kingship. The past is the past, and I have no reason to judge anyone by it."

"...but what about Mordred, then? What about everything that she has caused because of this woman's foolish ideals?" the taller man insisted.

Shirou shook his head again, getting up from the table with a sigh. "Even despite this, I still have no right to judge her. Her ideals may be fallacious and foolish. They may have led to her death and the fall of her kingdom... but she still tried. She did what she thought was right, and tried her best. I can see that in her eyes. That's all that matters to me."

His gaze fell outside a window, staring into the cloudy sky while the others looked at him in wonder.

"It's all any of us should do," he whispered. "And besides…"

Shirou turned to the female King. And when he looked at her, Artoria felt her eyes widen, her mind go blank, and her heart flutter inside her chest. Her stoic mask and her quivering emotions literally crumbled in front of the smile and the gaze he was giving her.

Because there was no sadness or disgust in those amber eyes, as in Waver Velvet's.

There was no regret and remorse, as in those of Bedivere and Gawain.

There was no judgment and disappointment, as in Iskandar's.

And there was no hatred and anger as in Mordred's.

No...

There was only one thing in Shirou's eyes. Something that she didn't expect to see. Something that made her pause and question everything about him all over again.

Understanding.

That man was looking at her with understanding.

And she had no idea why.

Artoria held a breath with stunned stupor and shock.

But Shirou simply smiled at her with that gaze filled with compassion and understanding.

"...fighting and giving your all for others without expecting anything in return... it's something I can relate to," he said to her, his expression growing more sad for a second, as if his mind was suddenly steeped in memories. As if he was reliving long past experiences which took place in times gone by.

The King of Knights remained silent with wide, stunned eyes; unable to speak.

Iskandar furrowed his brows after that scene. "That is foolish, boy. Nobody should ever choose such a destructive and painful life. Especially a King or a ruler of any kind."

"Perhaps," he admitted, trying not to think too hard about his own past. His words surprised not only Artoria, but her Knights and Lord El-Melloi II as well. "But given that Camelot was needed at the time as it was to serve its role in history, a martyr King was exactly what was needed back then for the sake of humanity. But now, you don't need to be such any longer. You are free, Arthur Pendragon."

She stiffened at his words, straightening her back and glaring at the ground. "...to do what?"

"To be whatever you want to be," he easily answered. But his trained eyes could see that she was still skeptical.

"...How do you expect me to stomach it, Ruler? The knowledge that I failed so miserably, without being able to do something to change it?" Artoria asked through gritted teeth, her grief showing even in spite of her typical stoicism.

Shirou stared at her for a few seconds, his expression uncertain. He wasn't sure how much he should say, but he had to say something. He had to help her. He couldn't simply leave a woman in distress – a woman who also was Mordred's very own father – without doing anything. It was simply wrong to him.

In time, the Ruler finally spoke to the Saber. "You need to allow yourself to be human. It's ok to grieve, King of Knights, it's ok to cry. But you must accept that you failed in your rule because you were too detached from others. You need to learn again how it is like to feel and connect with others. Your Knights can help you in that regard. But please, allow yourself to finally move on and recognize that you have played your role in history. That's the only thing I can tell you."

She stared, her expression completely uncertain and lost. A stark contrast compared to her usual calm and collected stoicism. "B-But… how?" she asked again, her voice sounding as lost as her heart.

Shirou put one hand on her shoulder, smiling gently at Artoria. "It's okay to grieve... but to erase history would be to deny every sacrifice your people and your fellow Knights have made. To renounce the people they became for good or for ill. Look at them, King Arthur. Is this what you want? Is this how you wish to repay them for their loyalty?"

Artoria glanced at her Knights. At their heavy and remorseful faces. At their eyes filled with sadness and sorrow.

And her heart tightened painfully inside her chest.

"...no" she admitted in the end.

Shirou smiled faintly. "Then you have your answer already. Grieve, accept what has transpired, and be more human in the proper balance, Arthur Pendragon. That is what you need to do," he said to her.

Having said that, without wasting any more time, the red-haired man stepped away from her and walked towards the door with slow but determined steps.

"Where are you going?"

Shirou smiled at Iskandar. "I'm going after the kid. I'll send her back to you as soon as I can," he replied.

Then, without further ado, he left through the door and went out to the city.

And the room fell into silence once again.

---

Planet: Earth
Date: May 19 2020
Location: St. James's Park – Westminster (London - England)

(======)

Mordred walked through the large, crowded streets of the city with quick and ferocious stride, her face contracted in a scowl of anger and frustration. She passed the many front-window shops, the countless buildings of a thousand shapes and sizes, and paid no mind to the bystanders who took occasional glances at her. She was too lost in her thoughts to care about what they might think of her. In fact, right at this moment, she didn't even care about the world, the war, or whatever else Destiny had in store for her. She doubted that it would be able to make her forget the pain and allay the anger that boiled inside her.

She walked and walked, with no definite goal or destination in mind. Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity of stomping around aimlessly, she found herself in the middle of a large park located in central London, surrounded by some of the country's most famous landmarks including Buckingham Palace, Clarence House, St James's Palace and Westminster. A giant, green park with lakes and trees, filled with people playing on the lawns, sitting on the grass in peace and quiet, or strolling around without a care in the world.

The beauty of the surroundings felt like a slap in the face for her. But it still did little to improve her sour mood.

Mordred sat down on a lonely bench in front of a lake, gazing at the water with lost eyes and furrowed brows. Her previous anger was slowly subsiding within her, giving way to an indescribable frustration and a growing sense of sorrow.

Her father's words echoed in her head once again.

"I wish for someone more worthy to have drawn Caliburn from the stone. For someone more suited than me to become King."

Sad, angry tears welled on the corner of her eyes. Her fists clenched in helpless rage and frustration.

'Damn you... damn you, Father!'

What had been the point of her rebellion, then? What had been the point of all the tears, all the anger, all the efforts and sacrifices she had to make in order to overthrow Camelot and seize the Throne for herself? For what good was everything she had destroyed, and wounded, and killed after receiving this revelation? What had been the point of her life, of her very own existence?

Her life – her whole, damned life – was centered around her desire to be accepted by her father. To be acknowledged by 'him', to be close to 'him' and, especially, to be considered a worthy heir for 'him'. A worthy son. A son that could proudly stand by the King's side. For three years, for three long years she had done nothing but fight, and serve, and kill without question on behalf of King Arthur as a faithful Knight of the Round Table. And yet... and yet...

Everything had collapsed.

Her father had rejected her. He'd disowned her. He'd ignored her without deigning her a single word or glance for months. And when she rebelled, when she finally snapped and her mind broke because of hatred and anger… when she set out to destroy everything her father had ever stood for... he still refused to yield and give her his approval.

For what good had it been?

Now, her father wanted to be King no longer. His desire was to make sure that someone else could draw the sword from the stone.

And this was unacceptable.

Everything about her life… all that fuss about rejecting her as his heir… the countless fights to cling to his power… their killing each other… and now…

Her father wanted to give the throne away.

He wanted to give the throne away to someone that wasn't her.

And even WORSE, he wanted to erase his own exploits, his own marks on history. His entire legend and past.

He wanted to erase everything about him. Everything about his kingdom. About THEM.

UNACCEPTABLE!

Mordred would never accept that. She couldn't accept it. She simply couldn't. It was inadmissible, inconsiderate, unfair. She had fought, she had rebelled, she had shed tears and blood to assert herself and force her father to look at her and give her attention and acknowledgment, and now... now, that accursed, emotionless King just wanted to erase everything? To deny his own reign, his own efforts and all the things that Mordred, the Knights and all those who admired him and fought by Arthur's side had achieved?

No way! No FUCKING way! It was unacceptable, inadmissible, intolerable!

Was that supposed to be a joke? Because she wasn't laughing.

She wasn't laughing at all.

Tears began to drip from her cheeks and chin.

'..why?' she weeped inside her mind. 'Father... why?'

Did he hate her that much? Was he really so disgusted by her presence, by her own existence that he preferred to choose something like this instead of acknowledging her and her right to the Throne? Was she such a disappointment and failure to his eyes?

Why? Why? Why?

A perfect King.

She scoffed with rage and disdain, choking back her sobs with a painful growl.

'What a joke! I was right all along! Father doesn't deserve such a praise! He is vile, heartless, and cruel! He's just a monster!'

'A monster that needs to be killed again!'

Her face grew more enraged and feral than ever.

'I will k-'

She paused. Blinked. Then snarled.

'I will sla-'

She paused again.

Mordred widened her teary eyes.

She didn't have the strenght, nor the will to end those sentence. And she knew extremely well why.

Despite her anger, Mordred didn't believe half the things she was thinking. Her face fell as memories of her watching the King from afar roused inside her mind. Memories of her serving as a Knight, following her father with the eyes, silently hoping to be closer to him. And back then, to her eyes, the King was perfect. He was a real idol, a role model. The King did everything flawlessly. He made swift, impactful decisions. He made elaborate strategies. He performed great displays of power, and always tried to please the people, even if his intentions were lost on them.

Nothing could stop the King. Nothing was a shock to the King. No obstacle couldn't be overcomed by the King.

The King was perfect.

And for that very same reason, he was also...

Inhuman.

Mordred's fists clenched, drawing blood from her palms.

Arthur Pendragon didn't have feelings. He couldn't have feelings. He was incapable of human emotion. Mordred now felt naive for even entertaining the thought that her father would ever have accepted her as his son.

With the way he viewed himself and his rule, she could't deny this anymore. It was as clear as day. The King was not human. He couldn't be human. He was never going to be human. Growing close to him was impossible. It was out of the question.

And her dream, her wish to be finally acknowledged by him… was simply impossibile. Mordred was never going to be acknowledged by her father. She was never going to be close to him, or accepted by him, or loved by him.

Never.

That was the fate of the Knight of Treachery and Rebellion.

More tears began to drip down her cheeks. She furiously wiped them off with a growl, and forcibly choked back the rest with an angry frown.

She was a Knight, and Knights didn't cry. They weren't supposed to cry.

And yet... why were the tears still falling from her face?

Mordred lowered her head with a whimper of sorrow and shame.

A man sat down on the bench next to her.

"Are you ok, kid?"

The female Knight snapped her head up. Her wide, teary eyes met Shirou's calm face, intent on looking at her with a warm, reassuring expression. His golden-brown eyes were sparkling with compassion and sadness as they watched her cry here, alone and in silence.

Mordred never felt so embarrassed like that day.

"...what do you want?" she finally asked, her voice hoarse and devoid of her usual confidence.

The Ruler flinched. It seemed that he wasn't expecting to see her so depressed. Mordred mentally cursed herself for her own inability to hide her emotions. She was a Knight, for Gods' sake. She should never have shown her emotional side in front of anyone. Less than ever in front of him, of all people.

Damn it. This was going to stain her pride forever.

"I was worried about you," he simply replied. His eyes grew softer as he stared at her face. "It seems I was right to worry."

"I don't need your concern. I'm fine!" she stressed, glaring at him in embarrassment and frustration. She knew extremely well she was lying, but she would never admit such a thing out loud. Not even under threat. "Leave me alone, Ruler. I don't want to hear your lectures right now."

A hand rested gently on her shoulder. Mordred physically jumped at the contact.

Shirou looked at her with nothing but sincerity. "I'm not here to lecture you, kid. I just... don't want you to be alone."

Her lips quivered. A strange pressure began to build behind her eyes. The girl desperately tried to ignore it, but it was more difficult than she expected. She could feel the honesty in the other man's words, the sincerity behind them, with even a hint of dedication. And this realization, this fact... it was unexpected for her. Weird, even. After all, this was the first time someone was sincerely trying to connect with her. And she had no idea how to react to this.

Eventually, her lips thinned into a straight line, trying to hold back a shaking breath from escaping.

"...why do you even care?" she asked. Her words came out more bitter and forceful than she intended, but she didn't care. It was too late to fix them, anyway.

And yet, Shirou paid no mind to her frustration. He simply offered her a little smile. "Because you're my friend," he answered. "And I know you could use some company right now."

Something warm and relaxing began to grow inside her chest, and it came not from her thoughts. Mordred looked down at her hands in embarrassment, but a small smile curved her lips.

"...thanks," was all she managed to say.

Shirou stared at her, long and hard. His smile never went away. "...are you still upset about what your father said?" he finally asked after a couple of seconds.

Her lips parted into a small snarl. "I'm not upset. I'm furious!" she hissed without any hesitation.

The God of War widened his smile. "I knew it. You don't really hate your father, after all."

Her reaction was immediate. Morderd's eyes widened dramatically as her head snapped to face her companion with a stunned expression, completely flabbergasted by his words. Shirou merely presented her a small smirk after his deduction.

"W-W-What are you-"

"Don't try to deny it, kid," he urged her with that knowing smirk. "I can read it in your face. If you really hated your father, you wouldn't be so angry right now. You wouldn't have cared about her wish and words. The fact that you're reacting like this proves that deep down, you still care about her. I'm sure of it. I actually suspected it from a while, to be honest."

Her head fell, her expression lost.

"But that's not a bad thing. It proves that you're not as bad as you think," he immediately added, patting her shoulder with a a gentle movement.

Mordred scoffed. "I really doubt it," she spat, hiding her sadness with an indifferent demeanor.

"I'm serious. But we're digressing too much," he said with a sigh. He settled more comfortably on the bench, and then stared calmly over the park. He watched the green grass around them, the lake in front of them, and the trees and people that occupied the small landscape in the middle of the capital. Only then he gave her a sideways glance. "Mordred... be honest with me. Do you still love your father?"

She didn't answer. She waited. And waited. And waited.

Then, she spilled the beans.

"...I did. Once."

Shirou nodded slowly.

"Tell me about it," he urged her with a gentle voice.

Mordred was silent for a long time. She remained immersed in her thoughts, listening along with Shirou to the chirping of birds, the whispers of passers-by, the squeaking of ducks swimming on the lake's surface. She listened to all of this in silence, enjoying for a moment that atmosphere of peace and tranquility that she hadn't been able to notice before because of the pain and anger that had clouded her mind. She even closed her eyes, taking deep breaths to try to calm her growing confusion and uncertainty.

Next to her, the Ruler didn't rush her to speak, but patiently waited for the younger girl to finally make peace with her thoughts and emotions. Mordred felt a bit of gratitude blossom inside her chest towards him for this gesture.

And then, after a long silence and another deep breath, Mordred began to be honest with herself.

"For the longest time in my life, I've always had one dream: to be accepted by others," she admitted in a low voice. "Due to my unwanted birth and my Mother's 'questionable' fame, I grew up in the shadows for years, hidden from everyone and everything. I had no friends, no relatives, except for my Mother. And trust me... she wasn't a good company. It was only when my Mother brought me to Camelot in secret to see King Arthur that I began to take an interest in Knighthood and the Round Table."

Shirou listened to her with all the attention in the world.

Mordred continued her story. "When I saw the King for the first time, I was paralyzed with awe. He looked so perfect, so noble and collected... he seemed like an unreachable figure to me. A saint. I instantly began to admire him. I started to think that I wanted to follow him, because he seemed like a perfect leader. So, I trained for years under my Mother, with sweat, blood and tears, to become a powerful and skilled Knight. All of this to be able to get a name for myself and be accepted in the King's court. And with time... I succeded. I was called to Camelot, and Sir Agravain himself told me that my fame and exploits had spread throughout the kingdom, and that the King wanted me among his Knights of the Round Table. That day... it was one of the best days of my life."

A bitter laugh escaped her lips. The Ruler listened closely.

"...but I should have known better. At the time I was still blinded by my loyalty and my adoration for the King. In my eyes, the King was perfect. A flawless, unstoppable being. The best leader that ever existed. He was my role model. My dedication and my desire to be close to him blinded me, preventing me from seeing the harsh, cruel reality: even from the first day King Arthur didn't even deign to invite me personally among his ranks."

Shirou frowned in displeasure after hearing that.

"But that was ok. I didn't care, back then. All I wanted was to be close to the King. Being a Knight allowed me to serve him, to make him proud with my actions. It allowed me to see him!" she stressed with emotions, her mind steeped in memories. Then, suddenly, her emerald eyes narrowed in irritation. "But over time, I realized that this dream was useless. No matter how hard I tried, no matter what I did, it wasn't enough. The King never spared me a single word. He never gave me a thank you, or a greeting, or anything like that. It was as if I didn't exist in his court. As if my presence was completely useless to him. Not to mention, of course, that I was not well regarded by the other Knights. They didn't trust me, because of my temper and my unknown past. Therefore, even in the King's castle, even in the middle of Britain's greatest and mightiest kingdom... I was alone. Just like before. Exactly like before."

The Ruler stared at her. "Kid..."

"But I still tried my best!" she cut him off with a shaky sob. "I kept going on and on, and over time I managed to make a name for myself even among the walls of Camelot. People started talking to me! The guards started to approach me! I made... friends, with some of them. And for I while, that was enough. I tried to adapt to the situation. I told myself that everything was fine... even if I could never get what I truly wanted no matter how hard I tried: the King's acknowledgment."

The red-haired man put a hand on her shoulder. She shook her head.

"One day, everything changed," she began to say again. Her voice was low – hoarse, even – full of emotions and pain. A sharp contrast to her usual behaviour. "Mother came to me, and she revealed my origins. She told me that King Arthur was my Father, and that I was his one and only heir to the throne. And from that day on... things went downhill quickly."

Shirou closed his eyes with a hint of sadness. "...did you panic?"

She glared at him in mock rage. "No. The opposite," she admitted quietly, glancing to the ground again. Her hands clenched into fist, her eyes wavering in rage and frustration at the memory. "I was so overjoyed when I first learned that I had his blood in my veins. I was proud, and happy, and elated. After all, how could I not be? I was the King's son! His own flesh and blood! Do you know what it meant to me? Do you have any idea?"

Shirou looked at her carefully. It was not difficult for him to deduce her thoughts. "It meant that you could be recognized as her heir."

She spat to the ground, shaking her head in rage. "No. It meant that I could be recognized as his son!" she stressed, smiling without any true joy. "That was all that mattered to me. I didn't care about the Throne at first. I didn't care about being King. All I wanted, all I wished, all I ever dreamed... was to be his son. I just wanted to be King Arthur's son, and be loved and recongnized as family by the King I had admired so much for all my life. That's what I really wanted, Ruler."

He tightened his grip on her shoulder a bit. "...and she rejected you," he then finished with sadness.

Mordred's face became filled with anger and resentment at that memory. "...yeah."

Shirou sighed. "I know it's really indiscreet and stupid to ask you this, but... what happened during that talk?"

"I'll tell you what happened: he didn't do anything!" she retorted in anger, her tears growing by the second. "He simply rejected me, denounced me, and told me that I wasn't fit to be King right into my face! Then, without a care in the world, he walked away without sparing me a single glance, and never spoke to me again! That's what fucking happened!"

"...that's messed up."

"You tell me!" she yelled.

"But then, why did you rebel?" he asked her. Mordred turned to watch him with wide eyes filled with tears. "If the King didn't care about you, why didn't you abandon her? Why didn't you simply go away, like Tristan did before? If she didn't deserve you, then you had no reason to undergo that torture. You could have left, and freed yourself from the cursed dream of loving a person who didn't deserve you. But you didn't, and chose to rebel instead." He stared at her stunned face in all seriousness. "Tell me... why?"

In his head, Shirou already knew why. He knew it extremely well. But he assumed it was best to let her vent for the moment. It would surely do her some good to take that weight off her chest.

Mordred looked down, her eyes dripping with sadness and pain. "...because I desperately wanted his attention," she finally replied. "I couldn't live with the knowledge of being insignificant in his eyes. I just... couldn't stand it."

Her expression fell, just like her tears.

"That's why."

And silence too fell on their bench amidst the park.

...

"...Kid."

...

Shirou sighed a little, stroking her head with one hand.

Mordred raised her head in confusion and sorrow.

Her gaze met his sad, understanding eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you even more sad. For this... I apologize, Mordred."

She didn't react. She merely said nothing, did nothing; too filled with sadness and rage to be able to care.

Until the man spoke his next words.

"...I understand how you feel."

She fought hard to choke her tears and sobs after that statement.

"How?" she demanded angrily. "How could you possibly understand how I feel?"

"Because I was rejected too."

Mordred paused. Then blinked. Then, her mouth gaped in absolute shock and disbelief.

"…what?" she whispered.

Shirou stared at the sky, his face and gaze distant; more distant than ever.

"If I tell you a bit about myself… do you promise to keep it secret?" he asked her.

The female Knight widened her eyes. Shirou, revealing a bit about himself? That was a first. He never spoke about his previous life before. Actually, he'd never mentioned his life and identity in all the days they had known each other. Nor had he ever given in to her insistence, no matter how hard and long she and Iskandar had tried to learn something about him. This was a first, in the literal sense of the word.

She hesitated for just a couple of seconds. "I can do that," she readily agreed.

The Ruler smiled a little. Then, he too began to reveal a bit about his past.

"My biological family... it came from a very special lineage from my mother's part," he began to say with a little sigh. "It wasn't a normal lineage like many others. My blood and my family lineage was special. It's a bit hard to explain, but you can consider it royalty, if you want."

Mordred raised a brow, listening closely to his words.

"When I was born, however, my family abandoned me," he said seriously, shocking the blonde girl quite a bit with that revelation. "As far as I know, my birth was something unexpected. My father was already dead, and my mother didn't want me. I was an unwanted child. Therefore, she left me to die in the middle of nowhere and walked away without batting an eye."

Mordred flinched at that news, shocked beyond words. T-That was horrible! She would never have imagined that Ruler had this kind of past! But the most shocking thing, even more than the news in itself, was the easygoing and quiet way in which Shirou had revealed it. He had literally thrown that bomb as if he was talking about the weather! This wasn't normal at all!

He didn't seem to care, though. "It was only thanks to luck that I managed to survive," he continued to explain. "By pure chance, my biological mother had abandoned me a short distance from a small village. A poor woman found me and took pity on me. She had no husband, nor children to call her own... but still, she decided to look after me. She adopted me, and looked after me for twelve years. I grew up thanks to her, and she showered me with love and affection. And when I was old enough, even though I knew my true origins, I chose to cut the ties with my lineage of blood and live with her. To me, she was my real mother and the people of the village were my real family. I had no love for those who had abandoned me… and I chose to stay with her even knowing that I was different."

His eyes became literal steel at that point.

Mordred stared at him. "…what happened to her?" she asked.

Shirou watched the lake with a hard gaze. "...she was killed," he replied slowly, his voice cold and resentful. Mordred audibly gasped at that revelation. "One day, the village was attacked by some members of my family lineage. Very strong members. They attacked and killed everyone, sparing no one... not even the children. During the attack, amidst the chaos and screams and flames, I was hidden away by my mother. She ordered me to remain hidden inside a wicker basket in the middle of hay. That... was the last time I saw her. What happened after that... you can already guess. All I remember is screams, fire and cries. Then, silence. Still, as my mother had ordered me, I remained hidden inside that wicker basket, and I only came out of it after several hours. When I did, I found the village on fire and the inhabitants dead. Among them, I saw my mother's corpse lying in a pool of blood."

Shirou looked down at the ground, his eyes unreadable and his fists clenched.

"I was the only one left. The only survivor of the massacre."

Mordred stared at him with silent disbelief. Her eyes wavered for a bit. Then, she looked down in shame. "I… I'm sorry…"

He sighed, shook his head, and stared at the lake again.

"I did exactly what you did to Camelot after that. Can you guess what happened, kid?"

The girl swallowed. She took a shaky breath. "…you took revenge on them."

Shirou nodded without saying a word.

She grabbed her left arm, stroking it with a sad gaze. A few seconds of silence passed.

"…was it worth it?" she finally asked.

He turned to her, staring straight into her emerlad eyes. "Was it worth it for you?" he asked her back, deadly serious. "Was it worth it to rebel against your father and Camelot because she rejected you?"

Mordred fell silent, her eyes downcast.

The God of War sighed. He rested a hand above her head.

"That's why I can relate to you, Mordred. That's how I understand. This path you walk… vengeance… you'll find no peace in it. I know," he said.

She gritted her teeth. "That's not the same thing. You have a tragic past, but you still had someone who loved you!" she protested in the end, her mind filled with resentment. "I-I never had that! I never experienced what it's like to be loved! My Mother was a witch! A wretched, cruel woman who only saw me as a tool! I had no choice but to do what I did!"

Shirou nodded slowly. "That's true."

His reaction floored her. Mordred turned back to him with sheer shock, still unable to cope with his reaction. She wasn't expecting him to agree with her. D-Did he really agree with her just now? He wasn't going to reprimand her? Scold her? Hate her?

He did none of those things above. Instead, the red-head stared at her with a sad, compassionate face. "I took my revenge because of love. A love that I lost in the end, but that I was still lucky enough to receive. But you, on the other hand... you never experienced it. You never felt what is like to be loved. You didn't know better. And that's why I can't judge you, Mordred."

She sniffled, her body trembling. Hot, angry tears streamed down her face.

The ancient God stroked her cheek slowly, wiping away her tears with a sad smile.

"As imperfect and simple my mother was compared to your father, she still loved me," he said, moving a wisp of golden locks from her forehead. "I wish I could give that to you."

Mordred weeped, her emotions crumbling under his touch and gentle gaze.

"…then what do you expect me to do?" she hoarsely asked him in the end, rounding on him with a sad, tearful glare. "To forgive Father after being rejected? To admit my mistakes? To abandon my dream?"

He shook his head. "I expect you to be free," he calmly replied, stunning her with his words. Mordred looked at him with wide eyes, like an animal cornered by its hunter. "I expect you to be better than this. Because I know you're better than this. All you have to do is free yourself from the past."

The Knight of Treachery shook her head. "I can't. I'm not like you, Ruler. I can't… I'm… I just…" she fell silent all of a sudden, her face a mask of doubts, sadness and uncertainties. She sighed with a heavy, sad reluctance.

"…I just wanted to prove Father wrong about me."

…

Shirou took her hands with a smile. Mordred stared at him.

"You can do it, kid," he encouraged her. "You can prove her wrong. But not like this. Not with vengeance. There are other ways you can prove your father wrong, trust me."

She widened her eyes, her expression desperate for answers.

"How?"

That single question was filled with anger, and sadness, and desperation, and sorrow, and so many things mixed together that Shirou couldn't help but feel sad for her.

And yet, he simply smiled at her.

"By being happy."

Mordred's eyes widened.

Shirou gave her an encouraging look. "You've been ignored and shunned all your life? Screw that, you have me and Rider to help you, and you can even start a brand, new life now. Bedivere and Gawain don't trust you? Screw them, you have nothing to prove now that your kingdom is destroyed and the Throne is gone. Your father never gave you the attention and joys you were looking for? Screw him. Ignore her, get over her and search for your happiness with someone else, in some other way. Prove to her, to them, that you can still be happy despite what happened. That's the biggest, greatest form of revenge: to be happy in spite of those who hate and shun you."

He squeezed her hands, looking at her with a broad smile.

"You're not alone anymore, kid."

Mordred gaped at him, feeling her cheeks blush and her mind go blank in shock and embarrassment.

Shirou was not done, though. Immediately after that, he broke into a crooked grin and ruffled her hair, making her blush even more.

"H-Hey! Cut it out!" she protested, trying to remove his hand from her hair, her previous depression momentarily forgotten.

He chuckled at her futile attempts to remove his hands from her hair. "I know it's still too early for you to come to terms with your issues, Mordred. You're young and inexperienced. But I'll be here to help you, if you want. That's what friends are supposed to do. So please, Mordred… promise me you'll try. Promise me you'll try to overcome this wound you carry within you. Please," he asked her, his expression soft but serious at the same time.

The girl paused. Blushed. Then, she looked down to the ground with a pout.

"...alright." she grumbled in the end. "I... I'll try."

Shirou ruffled her hair for the last time. "Good. That's all I can ask."

"But still!" she suddenly declared, making him raise a brow at her. "I won't forgive Father just like that! I cannot forget the way he treated me just because you say so! I'll refrain from attacking and killing him for now, but I'm not going to forgive someone who hates me!"

He blinked in confusion. "What are you talking about?" he asked. "Your father doesn't hate you."

"You bet he does!" she retorted stubbornly. "He has ignored and rejected me for all my life! And yesterday during the battle he even unjustly accused me along with those two idiots! You saw it yourself! He must hate me, I'm sure of it!"

The red-haired Servant smiled knowingly at the young homunculus. Of course she would reason that way. Mordred might be a grown up physically, but mentally... mentally, she was still a kid. A fifteen years old teen. And therefore, her mind was still that of a young, confused teen. But as funny as it was to tease her, he knew he couldn't joke too much about this subject. It wasn't fair, nor right. Not after all the pain and suffering that this whole 'lack of interactions' caused. Not after everything that had happened between Mordred and Arthur.

But at the same time, he could't rush her on this. It was better to let her realize the truth on her own. There still was time, after all. It was not too late.

Shirou gave her a pat on the head. "You'll realize it sooner or later, kid. I'm sure you will," was all he said.

Mordred didn't speak out loud, merely grumbling to herself something about 'treating her like a kid' and 'damned overly-powered Rulers'.

The God of War paid her no mind as he glanced at the cloudy sky. He exhaled a long, heavy sigh. "It's time. I should go, now," he finally said, slowly getting up from the bench.

The female Knight blinked and turned towards him again. "Huh? Go? Go where?" she questioned, looking completely lost.

He gave her a wink, smiling in a strange, mysterious way. "There's something I need to see, and some matters I must shed light to. I need answers, but I won't find them here," he replied seriously.

Shirou took a single step forward, offering her a sideways glance and a smile. "Can I count on you to tell this to Rider? Tell him I'll be back in two days."

She gaped in absolute shock. "W-WHAT!? You're leaving without us?" she stammered suddenly, getting up from the bench.

He widened his smile. "Relax, kid. It's just for a couple of days. I only need to visit one place, then I'll come back," he reassured her with a casual shrug of the shoulders.

She looked ready to protest. "B-But we agreed to-"

He gave her one last, final pat on the head, ruffling her hair again and covering her eyes with her long bangs.

"See you soon, kid. Don't be too reckless while I'm away. I'm counting on you."

She snorted with impatience, furiously smoothing her hair back to normal. But as soon as she regained her composure and finished fixing her ponytail, her eyes widened in amazement and shock.

Because Shirou had disappeared without a trace.

---

Planet: Earth
Date: May 19 2020
Location: Clock Tower (London - England)

(======)

"Was it really necessary to be so hard on her?

Iskandar snorted at the young Magus' question. "I told you, it was for her own good," he seriously said. The Rider downed yet another glass of wine, shaking his head in visible disappointment. "I couldn't stand that woman's words. To think that someone would willingly choose such a foolish way to live and rule... that's not how a King should be, young man. Trust me."

Lord El-Melloi II sighed heavily, sitting in front of the giant Rider in the same room as before. At the moment there were just the two of them here, seeing that everyone else had left for various reasons just a little while ago. They had left in... various different ways and with... various different moods.

Artoria had been the very first example of this. She had stormed out of the room shortly after Shirou left in search of Mordred, looking both depressed and conflicted as she left. Of course, her loyal Knights had followed her after a few minutes of hesitation, leaving just the two of them in the room in a silence that was almost too embarrassing to bear. Not that Iskandar seemed to care, though. As long as he had wine, he was fine.

And besides, that woman seriously needed to reflect on her life choices. Of that, he was certain.

"...you could still have been more discreet with your words, you know?" the young Lord tried again.

Iskandar shook his head. "A King must be stern and direct when it's absolutely necessary, especially when dealing with another King. Treating that woman with minced words and little attention would have been an offense to her," he explained with absolute certainty.

Lord El-Melloi II looked ready to retort, but he didn't make it in time.

Even less than a second later, in fact, the door of the room was suddenly swung open and a figure stepped inside in a quick and panicked rush.

"Mr. Waver! We have a problem!"

Both him and Iskandar turned to the Knight's panicked, sweaty face.

"Sir Gawain? What happened?" the Magus of the Clock Tower asked, jumping from his seat.

The Knight of the Sun swallowed nervously. After taking a deep breath, he answered without hesitation, his voice visibly dripping with concern.

"Our King has disappeared."

The Lord stilled. He donned a hand on his face. Then, his gaze fell upon the Rider in front of him with a slow, exasperated solemnity.

Iskandar merely grunted with narrowed eyes after taking another glass of wine.

"Hmm. That's not what I was expecting."

---

Damn, this is the longest Interlude I've ever made.

Interludes are supposed to be short and concise breaks in my current plan, but this one is definitely long. It's still weird for me to see how some scenes that are supposed to be short and brief in my mind turn into countless pages of words once I write them down. Everything that you just read in this chapter was supposed to be much shorter than this, in my head.

To be honest, I'm a little conflicted about this chapter, given that it's filled with serious discussions among characters and some brief emotional scenes. I hope I was able to convey at least a small fraction of the emotions I felt when I wrote it... and I hope I was able to do it in a decent way. Please let me know about this.

Next chapter will be the end of this Interlude before the next Arc. We will receive a brief insight into Shirou's character, including his past and even his strange 'bond' with Artoria.

For those wondering about it, the lack of CODEX in this chapter is a deliberate choice. It won't be present in the next one either, since this two chapters are a short break before things start to get serious once again. The CODEX will return in Chapter 12, at the beginning of the third Arc.