Doomsday Clock Strikes to Ten

Part 4

"Master and I already had theories given the evidence we have in Dig Sites E and C, but this new development has inevitably sped up our understanding of this. Our Enhanced specimens alone were great testbeds to investigate as well as our… 'crystallized' friend, but you taking the boy in was a good decision." Asclepius said as he placed his tablet down next to his synthesizer apparatus.

The son of Apollo then turned his gaze back to the Witch of Colchis, who was looking at a set of test tubes neatly placed in a rack within a highly pressurized transparent storage preset to very low, almost arctic-like temperatures. The condensation alone from the air spiraling within it created an eerie backdrop as Medea stared.

Asclepius walked toward his colleague as he watched her take a sip of the finely fermented alcoholic drink fashioned by a certain Blavatsky. The taste was adequate, but the effects that it gave, and its very smooth consistency made it an instant favorite for the Witch, mainly due to how it helped her both cope and focus on some of her more intensive work.

Licking her lips, she snuck a glance at her colleague before returning back to the racks of blue-green colored tubes filled with liquid. They even glowed with light photonic particles, making the eerie scene all the more pronounced.

"This is the final batch, isn't it?" she asked.

"Yes, what these people call Compound V, now distilled into its purest, perfect form. None of the drawbacks, none of the wild inconsistencies that used to plague its rather random application of both Mystery and practical Science." Asclepius replied as he looked at his work or rather, his and his master's work now completely fulfilled. "This is the closest as we could ever hope for Humanity to achieve a form of transcendence… as close as my dreams could ever bear fruit. The Panacea."

"Hm… close but not enough to justify this world's stagnation, right?" Medea probed.

Asclepius merely smiled a rarity in his case, even to Medea and the rest of the Argonauts.

"Yes, but I do in fact agree with Master on this, imperfection is perfection in itself. Nothing in our history suggests perfection ever exists, it's a philosophical and mathematical improbability."

"…but skirting the boundaries of such thing, is where what most humans call… 'a miracle'. I rather like that train of thought. Should prove educational to those that are too naïve to look at the world in black and white." She said, needlessly drawing some other thoughts in her mind before waving them away as she saw her colleague continue to stare at the specimens.

"Medea?"

"Yes?"

"What made you choose the boy in the first place? It's rather odd for you to single anyone out, least of all a highly qualified mage as yourself with standards that made even some of the greatest gawk at." Medea became completely still as she looked at his colleague. It was… rare for him to open up with personal questions, whether that was the product of how he formed a bond with their master or for other things, she could not tell.

"Why ask me this question?"

"I am very curious as to why you keep him close, knowing who you became after the Argo," Asclepius said with no intention or harm in his words. To a Medea freshly summoned or not as re-acquainted with her comrades again, she would find it an insult, but thinking about it, with Asclepius being the one to ask she was more interested in answering it. Mainly because their work ethic when it came to magic in their respective fields were similar, in a sense…

"Can't a girl simply want companionship outside of you all, Asclepius? I know you're not the most sociable of us all, but marinating on your own thoughts feels downing or painful at times. It ruins one's mood in the worst cases."

"I don't think that same logic applies to me."

"Perhaps on your perspective, but even before your ascension to Godhood, you of all people know that you tolerated, perhaps… liked the presence of the others on the ship. Even Jason's company. You might frown, bitch, or complain about it, but you never once threatened to leave permanently, if anything… you're always accommodating."

Asclepius stared at her for a moment before looking back at the cold storage, his reflection cast on it slightly as he hummed in thought. "I will not comment on such a thing, but… yes, maybe you are correct in a way."

"Hughie… on the other hand…" she grips her glass tightly before sighing, deeply.

"Will you allow me the luxury to guess, Medea?"

"You don't need to… you, probably know given you were there at the height of my madness."

"Yes… Absyrtus was an upstanding young man."

That name made Medea freeze as terrible memories came to her. Frenzied, terrible memories that began with her slow descent into the curse, no… the pain that the Goddess of Love had inflicted on her. One of her many infamous crimes… and one of her most painful mistakes that she felt pure and utter guilt of.

"Dear sister! Can you teach me magic as well?"

Medea could still see his face. Her grip on the wine glass tightened, to the point Asclepius with his enhanced hearing due to being a servant had to hear the small cracks on the glass' surface.

"Sister? W-Why? Why did you-

A tear rolled down her face, that was until Asclepius caught it with his finger. He then produced a handkerchief from his pockets and lent it to her.

"T-Thank you." She whispered.

"So… it is about him then. You see your little brother in that young man's place."

Medea didn't respond.

"How much does he remind you of him, Medea?"

"A-A lot… Asclepius. Too much, if you ask me." she shakily said as a sad smile appeared on her face. "And I… feel happy about it."

"That's good. Positive thoughts, despite there being little evidence of it help make someone healthier. If only by a healthy state of mind." Asclepius drawled with his medical expertise as Medea slapped his arm.

"Besides, even if I didn't choose him for his potential, I wished to repay the young man's kindness to help me with my… extracurricular activities."

Asclepius hummed with agreement.

"Yes… your pathetic attempts at making art with dolls-

SLAP!

"Shut it, you! He has good taste compared to nearly everyone in our comrades. Maybe Tesla or Master is an exception, yet every single one of you has terrible mindsets when it comes to beauty in the art of 'dress craft'." She berated as a very rare, amused huff from Asclepius was heard.

"You were always annoying with that."

"And I take good pride in it, so don't you forget."

"Hm."

The two smiled faintly as they stared at the cold storage again, the implications and ramifications it all had for the future of this world being clear as ever were completely trumped by the fact that they would all be long gone before it would all bear fruit with its full potential. What borrowed time they all had left lest they find a way was something that most of all the servants summoned wished to mean something. Medea was among them and like some of her successful incarnations across the infinite branches of reality, she yearned for that normalcy, that peaceful bliss to experience and treasure even if someday she would return that temporary piece of hers back to the Throne of Heroes.

She did not want to 'redeem' herself nor fashion herself a hero unlike her peers or even her current master of all things. Only to simply be herself without the world pushing back down on her for being the Witch that she came to be.

It was a selfish wish, one that was far simpler than the impossible reality of going back in time and returning everything to what it once was in Colchis.

"The boy is a good lad, Medea. I hope the day doesn't arrive that you are forced to send him to me because of your teachings." Asclepius said as he interrupted her thoughts much to her annoyance.

"A good doctor cares for the well-being of their patients." Medea chided.

"We both know that neither of us qualifies in such a category if we were to base it on contemporary thought. Even Hippocrates wasn't so kind to some of the fools he and his school of thought treated through their years of service." He replied with denial rife in his tone that Medea snickered at.

"You are far too childish when it comes to matters such as this, old friend."

The man did not reply but Medea already knew his feelings on the matter.

He simply sighed heavily before crossing both his arms.

"Medea."

"Yes?"

"The fact that the boy can freely use magic to an extent under your tutelage is already a cause for concern," Asclepius warned.

Medea did not deny it as her eyes became resolute.

"I won't let anything happen to him. I swear on it."

"Nobody in this world has a choice on that matter, unfortunately."

Her lips parted with visible frustration as she thought about their progress on their Deity problem. Edison and Theseus' further discoveries were becoming further disturbing with each coming week and day all the while as their resident primary captive had been finding a means of regaining their foothold on the heavens once more in some capacity.

"We still have time…" she whispered.

"I would not dare tempt fate to even suggest such a thing."

Medea then groaned in annoyance.

"For once in your life Asclepius, try to act like you believe in hope as much as the people looking up to you do." The man simply looked at her before opening strangely pulling a dried, dead leaf out of his pockets and working with nearly no effort whatsoever nor even an incantation, the leaf returned to its lively, natural state.

"Oh dear." She whispered.

The leaf looked as if it had recently just been plucked from its stem.

"That leaf is two weeks old… functionally impossible to restore from its advanced decomposition… yet here it is now, returned to its youth. He then placed it into her palm, much to her shock and fascination as Asclepius sighed. "I do know how these doctors; these medical professionals think and hope… Medea. I faintly hear their prayers and thoughts day by day as they become clearer in my mind's eye." He explained as Medea then narrowed her eyes, realizing full well that an aura glowed around the man. An aura that was much more pronounced than even hers. An aura that she was far too familiar with during her experiences in the Age of the Gods.

"Asclepius… you're-

"Yes. I'm aware." He said with clear frustration.

"Then the Age of Stagnation is coming to a close then." Medea said, recalling the notes of one of the 'Lost Journals' of Hephaestion.

Both Casters returned their stare towards Olympia's Panacea.

The color of its contents reminding them of the present and the upcoming future.

At present, Artoria was suspicious…

Majorly so, when she looked outside of the vehicle that the Finnish Government had lent them with the security detail they provided. Outside the vehicle they were in, they were tailed thankfully by an Olympia-issued vehicle, the armored kind which had an urban blend as well as a tactical function to its overall purpose. The rest around them were armed law enforcement of the local government with their flags proudly flying in the air as they rode around on roads closed roads void of traffic. That alone proved to be something that Artoria would be wary of given how tight everything was, but given Olympia's reputation, their aid to this country as well as how important they were to the Global Stage, Artoria knew that nobody would try anything funny as long as their presence lasted.

Then again, those 'Nazis' were stupid to the point that they actively fought her on uneven terrain and tactical advantage all because of their beliefs. Thankfully none were alive anymore and those who surrendered were publicly and completely demoralized after showing them Rhongomyniad's wrath.

Sighing, she leaned at the closest window and saw various civilians cheering at them as if they were something to gawk at in a parade. Much like how she and her army would ride back to Camelot with her Knights tailing behind her. The later days of her reign would prove the opposite, but it was still strange seeing the same amount of fame and cheer she received even if she was admittedly the same with the enemies, she either deposed or killed outright.

Humans were simply strange that way.

No, what did make her suspicious was the undivided attention, there was a strange tone to how the people of this land cheered for them and she couldn't quite grasp it yet as to why. Her gut instinct was yelling at her that this was something that she was all too familiar with, supposedly but as she continued to investigate it seemed as if the details were becoming blurry.

"Father, you should wave back… show them of your magnificence!" Mordred excitedly said as it returned Artoria back to her current state of affairs. She blinked at her son before turning her head towards the windows again where multiple civilians being passed by continued to cheer their name and that of Olympia. Her son was excitedly flashing a smile as well along with an enthusiastic cheer herself that Artoria found… amusing.

"Come on, Father! A smile alone can benefit us all in the long run." Mordred teased freely, almost as if the chain of command was non-existent. She was becoming insolent lately, far too rebellious, and far too open with her demeanor to others beyond that of their comrades and their master but…

"Come on… we can wave and smile together, and everybody will eat it up," Mordred said as she pulled her father closer and opened her side of the car window more openly than Artoria's was.

…her guts to act this way, to her of all things in this age, it was strange.

"Very well…" she conceded as she formed a beautiful smile and waved at the passing civilians. The cheers increased somewhat as Mordred grinned happily. That was until she felt Artoria's arms snake around her shoulders, pulling her toward her father more closely this time.

A blush appeared on her face as her smile turned to shock and mild happiness while Artoria continued to flash her practiced smile with hilarious ease.

The moment only ended when their driver informed them that their venue was closed and Artoria then relinquished Mordred's personal space once more.

Artoria sighed as her dull expression returned instantaneously. Her suspicion only rose with each second as there was… a strange dullness in the air despite the joy proliferating in it. Like a veil of something unknown that dared not show itself until the opportune time.

She then glanced back at her son who was still blushing in shock.

"Mordred. Be on guard."

"W-What?"

Artoria tilted her head slightly in question. "I said, be on guard. I feel as if something is amiss in the air." She warned as her son quickly nodded in affirmation.

"Y-Yes father! You don't need to worry about me."

"I hope so. Otherwise, if this meeting is a trap, I will focus on dismantling the enemy first before I can assist you in anything… so do be wary for your own safety."

Mordred's eyes twinkled for a second, Artoria did not notice it as she smiled dreamily before nodding with haste. "Of course, father."

Moments after they arrived she had tasked the disguised Olympia Hoplites to keep a sharp eye on things while she and her son shook hands with the delegates present. Thankfully they had shared with her the itinerary before the event started but everything still felt… odd to her senses. Even the unique and pretty landscape of one of their official buildings used for this whole affair had an air to it that made her feel anxious.

"Shall we take a picture, father? I'm sure Master would appreciate it if we took one." Mordred offered as Artoria nodded. Her son beamed at her much to her indifference as she looked at the nature-like theme of the decorations. Some to her eyes were real flora as she traced her fingers across the fireweeds that were spread across the walls alongside some very fragrant, scented candles. Mordred took a picture once she situated but as the servants and delegates continued to welcome them, Artoria's instinct continued to flare inside her head as she struggled to find out what was amiss.

Using hand signals to the Hoplites behind her, she directed them to security protocols level three, the highest it's been since the alarm at Theseus' first discovery in the Mediterranean. She could hear them shifting behind her but the building around them, perhaps even the people around them were starting to make her overtly suspicious.

Especially when all the servants called her with a strange name.

"…Miekankantaja…"

Mordred, still overly excited over this entire trip was quick to be friendly with her surroundings but she had yet to notice the way the locals treated her and Artoria.

Artoria most of all, continued to be mentioned by such a strange name whose usage invoked a strange sensation within her, as if the past calling upon her from a distant memory. A distant memory she was still unsure as to its nature.

Her mind was still in its foggy, unfocused state, and despite her gut instinct flaring at her to take action, this… sensation seemed to force her to be calm. As if the safeguards that their master had used to stop them from being interfered with through their master-servant connection were absent. No, that was the wrong word to describe it… the safeguards were still there, but they were on stand-by as if the controls were only on autopilot, willingly moving the subject to a pseudo-optimal path.

"Miekankantaja." Another said as the servant bowed at her.

Artoria had seen many nations in Europe and their modern tendencies towards respect, they had ranged from that being of formality to that of outright indifference, but none held such reverence as this one servant bowing at her as if she was a goddess.

The subtle differences between seeing a person who looked up to leaders, kings, or those with power were not seen in this one. In fact, the closest she could figuratively compare to this gesture were those in the many cults around Britain that served many strange, foreign gods from other lands. Speaking their faith with pure and utter reverence and serving them to the absolute possible outcome, even if it meant sacrificing lives in the process.

Artoria was greatly disturbed even as Mordred whisked the servant away while she stared.

The aura of the meeting around them was putting her on edge as they continued along the hallways, leading to the 'dinner service' that was first in their itinerary. Mordred led her along as they were welcomed to a large room.

Bathed in a unique greenish aura as nature and the seabed culture that Finland had around its beaches and borders were in full display for the father and son. A great banquet of food was laid on the finely furbished table and chairs as everything from exquisite seafood to wild boar from the inland forests of the country were freshly cooked to perfection.

Despite Artoria's suspicion, there was a low rumbling to her stomach that made even Mordred snicker. She quickly slapped the back of her head for that.

"What the hell, father! I was just joking."

Artoria ignored her as the servants led them to their situated chairs while the natively garbed people on the other side of the room began playing with their traditional instruments through the music that their country proudly sang in earnest.

The Hoplites were situated near the doors, ready for anything while the locals continued to cater to Artoria and Mordred as they sat side by side with each other. The music of the local's entourage continued to play around them while Artoria continued to eye everything around them with suspicion. Another thing she had quickly noticed was that there were only three plates in play for this dinner service. Two for her and her son and one on the other side of the table.

The music in the background continued to play as one of the servants, a male of average build sporting a short beard continued to serve her some of the seafood she had asked politely. The fish was still steaming with heat as he neatly placed them in front of her with the finely trained conduct any royal court servant would have.

She looked at the way the servant placed the dishes before her while she heard Mordred politely ask the servant serving her details about their decorations and culture. Once the man finished, Artoria glanced at the man who smiled at her for it. There was an uncanny tone to his smile like he was excited about something.

Something that she was unsure as to the nature of such an inevitable surprise.

"May I know the name of the one who served this delicious meal?" she probed.

"Jaako, miss. Of the Koskela family."

"I see. Thank you, Jaako." She said as the man turned away and left.

The music then shifted again as the hairs on her arms stood up.

She did not understand the language but the way the musicians sang the song felt almost like a prayer. Like they were conjuring something from the deep.

"…Golden is the king of the water,

Graceful is the Ahti of the water,

Evoke your holy words,

Sweep your holy waves,

Wipe your holy wounds,

Grant me your forgiveness…"

Mordred continued to speak to her of unnecessary things as Artoria glanced at her food. The 'prayer' continued to rise in tone to the rhythm of the music as she raised her fork and steak knife to take a piece out of the fish.

It was there where she barely realized that the doors to the room, they were in opened again as a single, short young lady barely the height of her son walked to take the seat across from them on the table. Robed in clothes that were in the most bizarre of colors, what smile peaked from her hooded robe made her feel unsafe.

Worse, Mordred seemed to not have seen the entire thing as she continued to try and talk to her. The Hoplites were the same as well and Artoria's eyes widened in realization.

The foggy state of her head cleared away…

"…Miekankantaja…" a voice said, it came from the direction of the robed figure despite her lips not moving during the entire action.

"I see," Artoria said as she picked up the piece of fish on her fork and consumed it in a welcoming fashion. In her peripheral vision, she saw that Mordred was about to do it herself, only for her to hold her hand reflexively to her son's shock as she looked at the robed figure.

"Thou have welcomed me as a guest to thine table. Let no one else be part of our discussion for they are but innocent in matters to existence such as thyself." She proclaimed it like a royal decree as Mordred stared at her in shock. The robed figure tilted their head as Artoria's eyes narrowed.

She could hear the Hoplites behind her brandishing their shock batons until the robed figure spoke.

"…I greet thee with honest praise and peace… and hostility is mine payment?"

"Do not dissuade me with such frivolities, yet respectfully in dealing with beings such as thyself they are innocent. They do not know how to best speak with one with the utmost respect. I do, so allow me with this offer." Artoria resolutely replied as the robed being frowned.

"F-Father? What's happening? There's nobody there!" Mordred said in worry.

"We have a decree then, Miekankantaja. I allow only thou as mine witness. Nothing more, nothing less." The robed figure said with finality as Artoria nodded.

"That is all I ask."

The robed figure then produced a bell out of her clothes and rang it with careful precision.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE…

Artoria could hear the music and her son's panicked cries around her echo before disappearing entirely while the room around her shifted. It was like the world was being deconstructed around her to its utmost core until everything turned into a cold, empty lake surrounded by old trees and wildlife.

The robed figure was now near nude in appearance. Only long seaweed and moss-like structures covered their womanly features to the point that she looked androgynous. Her arms were now dark sea-blue in color as nightly 'stars' littered its surface, twinkling in a soft manner. Her hair was that of serpents, lively things that circled her head that looked almost like branches of moss-filled logs that were found in swamps and bogs around Britain.

A 'cloak' hovered behind her, one that was draped around her shoulders like a literal waterfall as its composition showed that it was actively spewing streams of clear and greenish water that trickled down their pale skin. Their face was that of a young girl yet her expression was filled with such wariness that only beings, those of the ancient kind would have.

As if millennia to them passed by like an insignificant second.

Artora looked at herself, she was wearing a dress one that she was overtly familiar with in her youth as she was reduced back to her height when she first decided to pull Caliburn from stone. She was once again, Artoria Pendragon, the nobody who pulled the sword of the would-be king.

She was not perturbed by this, however, as she stared at the strange entity and glared.

"What is thy business, Fae?" she said, hoping to get straight to the point.

"I am not. Thou you call as Fae are mere 'relatives' to one such as I. Close enough in similarity yet far in their true nature. Does this explanation suffice?"

"Thou are the same, at least in the many I have encountered closely. I am mostly surprised to see thou still existing when the world above has already abandoned magic and mystery. I thought thee would have fled, like many of thine brethren who have left this world for another."

"If only it were as simple as that… Miekankantaja… or should I call thee, the Once and Future King?" the robed figure asked to which she did not answer. "…I am called Vellamo, a name given by the great God Ahti last of his kind before he faded. He gifted me this name, in memory of his wife as the last vestiges of his power now remain within me. A remnant of a time forgotten. A time… that was brought to cinders and ash by an Enemy from the Beyond."

So much information passed through her from that statement, much to Artoria's frustration she had to remember all of those important details. However, one specific mention of her introduction forced her to create questions within her head.

"Why did thou speak mine name with some manner of uncertainty?" Artoria asked.

"Oh, did thou notice it quickly?" Vellamo said as she hovered on the water's surface as if walking on it towards her, closer. "I thought thou and thine friends have already discovered much of this world. A world far removed from the rest. A world where the passage of time hath been irregular ever since the aberration."

"Speak more clearly… Vellamo. Respectfully I do not wish to trade words with vague meaning between us. Thou asked for my presence, invited me, even… so do not repay my kindness to accept such an invitation with nothing to give back."

"Thou are, frustrated? No… thou are scared because everything thy kindred had encountered thus far hath not accounted for the presence of beings such as mine own existence."

She then bowed her head as Artoria watched.

"Pardon mine ignorance, but understand I do not wish to fight nor do I have the ability to. This world of mine… this approximation of the domain great Ahti once inhabited is no longer as strong as it once was. I can barely keep thine son back from breaking the illusion so rest assured, great Miekankantaja, you shan't be harmed as well as those under thine protection."

"I accept then… yet thou haven't answered any of my queries… nor told me of the purpose of this affair."

Vellamo looked at her before visibly sighing. Untold of from the Fae Artoria had encountered many times in her reign as king and beyond it.

"…Thou should not exist," Vellamo said with enough gravity that it made Artoria blink.

"What?"

"…Thou were once part of a prophecy, this much is true… but such prophecy was never fulfilled. Such life was never enacted. Tis only in stories, those of the last of the Fae within Britain that spread such possibilities to their lesser on the Isle. There was no King Arthur. There was no everlasting Utopia… at least in this world."

Artoria felt the world stop for a moment as she ruminated on those words.

"How and what is the nature of the beings they spread these stories to… the 'lesser' as the Fae called them? Are they not, human?"

Vellamo then laughed her voice and tone that of an ironic one like one of those war-torn knights that returned never the same again after seeing all the death and devastation they experienced. Her laugh was that of pessimism, of the loss of hope of uttering such a foreign word as if it was never reality in the first place.

Artoria continued to feel disturbed as the strange entity finally stopped laughing.

"Thou do not understand yet, yes? I thought thine master would have known at this point. Of the nature of this world and why it was forced into stillness. Neither progressing nor stagnating, a twilight zone in all but name."

"I don't understand."

"….and I don't think thou will, at first, but to better prepare thee for what is to come, know at this moment that the very last, human being died after failing to eradicate the Scourge from the Beyond…"

Artoria, who understood a brief summary of her own world's history looked at Vellamo in alarm. "Thou should surely be mistaken, Vellamo. Humans still exist in the world above, in greater numbers even. If what thou hath said is true, then how can they still walk amongst us?"

Vellamo frowned in deep sorrow.

"They don't… Miekankantaja. For what they are, they are merely lesser than those who previously walked across these lands in full. They are as human as thou son is… just in a more complex form. Some of the divine that I met through the wastelands don't share mine kindness for them, for these 'lesser' beings are merely poor imitations of those that we all lost, made through desperation after the great Shattering. Where the last of Men died…"

TO BE CONTINUED…

AN: I had one more scene to add here with Maeve and Ashley interacting before she began speaking with Tesla in an 'event' that has him being the forefront. Had a lot of cut scenes with this one initially, but I just found this ending just right enough to end it.

Oh, and I am very sorry for the delays with this. If anyone must know I had experienced a terrible case of both a fever and a stomach issue that had me stuck doing nothing for days just to nurse my health. It was painful and boring as this was supposed to be released on Friday.

Hopefully you guys enjoyed this somewhat as we near the end of this arc as everything will now kick in full gear towards the ending of Vought and Homelander plotlines as more and more things get revealed.

Lastly, if anyone's curious, Absyrtus is a tragic figure in Medea's story who in many versions accompanies his older sister in her trip with the Argonauts. Their father however who pursued them became an issue, so with Medea's madness, she cut her brother into multiple body parts to make a false trail as the weeping King, Medea's father was slowed immensely down in horror seeing his son's corpse.

It's a dark ass story in Medea's tale and one of the prominent things that made her into a witch in Greece's eyes, but be assured that she wouldn't do that on Hughie, if anything she's trying to right her wrongs on that aspect of her life by helping him the best she could.