POV: Artoria Pendragon
Castle Camelot's Halls
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The doors shut behind Fury with a heavy finality, the echo of polished steel fading into the golden silence of the throne room.
I sat quietly on my throne, gazing forward at the fading ripples of Rhongomyniad's presence across the marble floor. My hands rested on the cool arms of the seat, fingers curled in slight contemplation. To my right, Mordred flopped dramatically into her newly-forged seat, her armor clinking like a dragon reluctantly settling its wings.
"Ugh," she groaned, throwing her head back. "That was the most boring conversation I've ever sat through—and I've listened to Merlin rant about magical fungus."
"You asked about that fungus," Proto Merlin chimed from my left, legs crossed and chin resting playfully in her palm. "And I still maintain its arcane reproductive cycle is fascinating."
Mordred ignored her. "Can't we just hit things already? Hulk smash, Camelot help, done. Why do we need to talk in circles with a one-eyed government guy first?"
I turned to her, letting a smile ghost across my lips. "Because one day, you'll have to handle these conversations yourself, daughter."
That caught her attention. Her head snapped up.
"Wait—me?"
"Of course," I said softly. "You are my heir. These negotiations, these decisions… one day, they will be yours to make."
Mordred shot upright, eyes wide with horror. "Wait, seriously? You mean I'll have to sit through more of that bureaucratic nonsense?"
Merlin, ever the agent of chaos, beamed. "Well, then! As soon as she returns from this little outing with you, I suppose we'll have to start etiquette lessons. Tea practice, curtsying, understanding diplomatic language. Oh, and table posture."
"Kill me," Mordred muttered into her gauntlet.
"Not before your first waltz," I said, unable to stop the small chuckle that slipped out. It felt… nice, this moment. Surreal, even.
I raised my hand to halt their playful squabble, amusement dancing in my eyes. "Before you both get carried away, there's something important you must know if we're truly going to build trust among ourselves."
Mordred and Merlin both quieted instantly, sensing my seriousness. I leaned forward slightly, gathering my thoughts carefully.
"When I was reincarnated into this world, I wasn't just me. I was given memories—two sets, in fact. One of them… was of a different version of myself. One who didn't draw a sword from stone, but a staff. One who was not born of man, but of the planet itself."
Merlin's expression changed instantly—curious, alert, enthralled.
"She was called Artoria Caster," I continued. "The Child of Prophecy. Chosen by the Staff of Selection to overthrow the tyrant Morgan and unite the humans and fairies of Britain. Not a king, but a mage."
"So… another you?" Mordred asked, narrowing her eyes.
"In some ways," I nodded. "But her path diverged long before the throne. She studied magecraft under a Merlin—though not this one," I added, glancing at the smirking white-haired sorceress beside me.
Merlin's eyes immediately lit up with curiosity. "A mage version of you? Oh, I'm already invested," Merlin purred. "I never truly taught Arthur much magecraft—he was always too occupied swinging his sword around."
"Hey, swords are practical!" Mordred defended, then quickly glanced away, embarrassment evident. "Though, seeing some magecraft might be cool too, I guess."
I smiled warmly at Mordred's poorly hidden eagerness. Closing my eyes briefly, I silently asked Raphael, 'Do we have time for a small demonstration?'
[Affirmative. Director Fury is currently inspecting the inner gardens near the lower citadel according to Rhongomyniad. You may proceed.]
'Thank you Raphael.'
Opening my eyes with a confident nod, I rose from my throne. "Allow me to show you both something special."
Golden light surrounded me. I lifted my right hand, and with a surge of mana, my armor began to shift. Rhongomyniad vanished from my side, replaced by the whispering shimmer of ancient mana. My figure glowed—bright, blue, and transcendent.
My armor began to shift, morphing gracefully into the intricate robes and ornate armor of Artoria Caster. The fabric shimmered in delicate blues and pristine whites, accented with gleaming gold embroidery. My hair unraveled, lengthening into long, golden waves that flowed like water. My face, once more mature and chiseled by battle, softened into the youthful visage of my Caster self. A small, regal crown materialized atop my head.
Mordred stared, mouth slightly agape, a complex mix of awe and confusion crossing her face. "You look… a lot like Mother," she murmured softly, eyes wide with surprise.
…My chest, however, remained very much unchanged.
Mordred blinked. "Wait—why is that the only thing that didn't change?!"
Merlin, however, seemed utterly entranced, her violet eyes sparkling mischievously as her succubus nature slipped forth. "Oh my stars… that ambient mana… you're like a walking leyline, no greater than that. Can I touch—no, wait, can I flirt with you?" Her voice turned sultry catching me off guard.
I turned red. Heat rushed to my cheeks like fire igniting dry leaves.
"I—I'm still me!" I stammered. "You can't just—"
"Oh my goodness," Merlin gasped. "It worked. She blushed."
Mordred nearly fell out of her chair in shock. "No way—Merlin, your flirting actually worked?"
Merlin grinned wickedly. "Of course it worked. Your father has exquisite taste."
My cheeks burned brighter, and I quickly cleared my throat, regaining composure. "Enough distractions," I said quickly. "I will now demonstrate a few of the abilities granted to me through this form."
In my hands, the Mythological Mystic Code Marmyadose materialized, its presence resonating deeply within me. Four ethereal blue spears emerged, floating gently around me, responding fluidly to my every thought.
The air shimmered. Gravity twisted. My feet left the marble only float a few inches above the floor, my weapons effortlessly drifting alongside me.
Mordred's jaw dropped. "You're flying?!"
Merlin had literal hearts in her eyes. "Floating midair with a personal halo of spears… be still, my heart."
"How…how are you flying?" Merlin then asked breathlessly, admiration clear in her voice.
"When I was Artoria Caster," I explained calmly, "I pushed territory creation to its absolute limit. I can create micro-territories around myself—zones where I control gravity, wind, and spatial pressure. I can hover, fly, and even extend these to my armaments."
To prove my point, I gave a sharp burst of mana and soared across the throne room in a blue-white blur, spiraling once midair before floating gently back to where I started, not a single strand of hair out of place.
"Okay, that's cheating," Mordred muttered, arms crossed and full pout active. "I want float powers."
"Perhaps someday," I said warmly.
Merlin just clapped slowly, theatrically. "I can already see the headlines: 'Magical Queen of Britain Defies Gravity.'"
Raphael's voice than echoed in my mind, signaling urgency.
[Master, Director Fury is moving towards his Quinjet. I recommend we depart soon.]
I descended, letting my spears and Marmyadose vanish into soft blue light as my heels gently touched the floor. With another pulse of mana, my form shifted—back into my divine armor, my hair tying itself back into its royal braid, my face reshaping into the familiar regality of my Goddess form.
"We should depart," I told them, turning toward the corridor. "Let us not keep Fury waiting."
Mordred stood, groaning as she stretched. "Fine. But the next time you decide to fly around, I'm riding on your back."
Merlin snickered. "Wouldn't be the first time someone tried to ride the king."
"Merlin!"
"I'm just saying!"
I rolled my eyes—but there was warmth behind it.
"Mordred, let's not keep Fury waiting."
As Mordred fell into step beside me, I turned back once to glance at Merlin.
"Keep things running while I'm gone."
Merlin gave a mock salute. "Don't worry. I'll only turn half the city into an amusement park."
"Mmm."
Merlin offered a graceful wave. "Enjoy your adventure, and don't forget our etiquette lessons, Mordred!"
"Yeah, yeah," Mordred grumbled good-naturedly, following me as we stepped into the halls of Camelot, leaving behind the throne room filled with laughter and the warmth of camaraderie.
- - - - - -
Walking alongside Mordred through the grand corridors of Castle Camelot, I felt a sense of peace settle over me. The weight of the throne room discussions with Fury lifted slightly, replaced instead by the comforting sound of Mordred's clinking armor and the distant hum of magical technology embedded within the walls.
The torches along the walls shimmered with a pale blue flame—an aesthetic choice by Rhongomyniad, no doubt. Magical efficiency with divine flair.
"You know…" Mordred spoke, tossing her blonde hair over her shoulder with exaggerated flair, "For a mission involving a gamma-raged monster, things sure are dragging."
"We're walking through a city, not charging a battlefield."
She groaned. "But we could. I mean, a dramatic leap off the tower into a waiting ship? Come on. That's an entrance."
"More like a reckless injury," I replied, unable to stop the small smirk pulling at my lips.
We passed through the enormous inner gate, descending the wide steps leading from the castle to the Upper City. Golden rails pulsed with faint energy, floating signs shimmered with information. Every building sparkled—sleek, white stone integrated with enchanted technology. Holographic scrolls hovered beside doorways, some with glowing notices about community offerings, others simply giving directions.
"Whoa," Mordred murmured, her head swiveling to take in the sight. "When you said Camelot had changed, I didn't expect it to be this... shiny."
Only a few families and travelers walked the clean stone pathways, staring wide-eyed at their surroundings. Some took photos. Some whispered in awe.
"These people," Mordred asked, her eyes following a child chasing a butterfly, "they live here already?"
I shook my head. "Not yet. They came to listen to the speech I gave before I summoned you. I've allowed them to explore the city freely until housing is decided on. I want them to see Camelot before they choose to stay."
"Smart," Mordred nodded. "Let them fall in love with it first."
"So, these are your citizens now?" Mordred asked, casting another glance toward the fascinated faces.
"Soon enough," I said with quiet assurance. "Camelot will be a home for many, but for now, we remain a beacon of possibility."
We descended into the lower city, a gentle hum of activity becoming more noticeable as Enforcement Knights diligently patrolled the streets. Mordred glanced my way again, her eyes sharp and probing.
"Earlier you mentioned two sets of memories," she began carefully, almost hesitantly. "You talked about the fariy-mage you, but there was another set of memories you didn't explain. Who was the other?"
I paused briefly, contemplating. Inwardly, I reached for Raphael's guidance. 'Raphael, would it be wise to share this now?'
[ If she is someone you wish to entrust with your burden, then yes. You will need others beside you who understand the weight you carry. Trusting others will reduce that weight—and give them the chance to carry it with you. ]
Reassured, I exhaled gently. "The other memories," I began quietly, "are from a girl. Just… a normal girl. She lived in this world—a similar universe."
Mordred scrunched her nose, confused. "Why would you have memories of someone so ordinary? She sounds like she didn't matter."
I shook my head firmly, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Every person matters, Mordred. Especially in this new world. We are the ones tasked with giving humanity hope. Even the quietest voices have their importance."
She seemed to mull this over, nodding slowly. "Fair enough, but…What did she do?"
"She did nothing of great importance," I admitted. "She wasn't a soldier or a mage. She didn't change the world. She played games. Watched movies. Read stories. Stories about... us."
Mordred blinked. "Us?"
"Yes. You. Me. Merlin. The Round Table. Even the Marvel universe, the one Fury is part of." I looked ahead toward the sprawling city skyline. "In her world, we were fictional. Characters she loved. I was her favorite."
Mordred stopped abruptly, shock clear on her face. "Hold up—you mean we're characters? Like, fictional?"
"In her universe, yes." I stopped walking and faced her. "But what mattered wasn't that we were stories. What mattered was that we meant something. I—she—was given the choice to become someone from her dreams. And she chose me."
Mordred furrowed her brow. "So… which universe are we even from?"
"Not this one," I said softly. "But close. The timeline of our world and this one's history—up until recently—are nearly identical. It means we can fill the role of this world's past heroes. We can be the legends of this land—historical heroes whose legacy cannot be easily challenged."
Mordred seemed to think about it as she looked ahead into the glowing city of Camelot. A city that her father created for humanity one that they will have to protect. One that she knows will grow bigger from all the people who will want to stay here.
"So… you planned this?" Mordred asked incredulously, a hint of admiration creeping into her voice. "That's... that's pretty clever. Knowing the future means we can't lose, right?"
I smiled, feeling warmth bloom in my chest at her enthusiasm. "Perhaps at first, we will have an advantage. But now that we are here, the future is no longer set in stone. Surprises will come, and it will be our duty to face them head-on, protecting humanity from whatever threats arise."
We arrived at the outer gates, and I signaled to an Enforcement Knight nearby. "Inform Merlin if anything arises during our absence."
Mordred snickered beside me. "You're just giving Merlin more work, aren't you?"
I raised an eyebrow playfully. "Certainly not. Merlin is quite capable."
We stepped through the gates, past the shimmering barrier of Camelot's outermost defenses. The sunlight warmed my armor, golden beams bouncing off the polished metal. The wind smelled of open fields and distant magic.
Ahead, resting on the green plains outside the wall, were two Quinjet transports—sleek, black, and humming with suppressed energy.
Nick Fury stepped down from one of them, his coat flaring slightly in the breeze. "Well, look at that. Right on time."
"We're ready," I said, nodding.
Fury gestured toward the open cargo bay. "Then let's not waste a second. New York's waiting."
Mordred flashed me a confident grin, clearly eager for the mission ahead. "Finally, some action."
"Let's get going," I agreed, stepping into the Quinjet. Our armors gleamed brilliantly beneath the afternoon sun, marking the dawn of our first true endeavor in this new world.
As the cargo bay doors slowly closed behind us, I glanced once more at Camelot's gleaming walls, determination solidifying in my heart. Whatever awaited us, we were ready.
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Heya guys! I know these chapters are a little slow and there's not much action. But rest assured that action is coming very soon. Just wanted to apoligize for the lack of frequent updates. University is something that takes more of my time than I thought. But I am never going to stop updating this story so don't worry about that. Anyway thanks for reading and supporting me!
Question: Which villain do you hope to see most from the Marvel Universe?