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"Oh, stop arguing, you guys!" Maverick laughed, wiping sweat from his forehead. "I'm such a noob that MVP for this round goes to Saber, obviously. She carried me. Besides... Artoria is the cutest."
He said it to the chat, mostly to deflect from the fact that he had almost died three times in ten minutes. But the game's audio input was always active.
Artoria, who had been about to ask Maverick if he needed medical attention, froze. Her helmet of composure cracked.
"Master, you..."
Her face turned the color of a ripe apple. She looked away, fidgeting with the hem of her armored skirt. The ferocious King who had just slain her own summer variant was gone, replaced by a flustered girl who clearly wasn't used to direct compliments.
[NOTIFICATION: SABER'S AFFINITY +5%][CURRENT AFFINITY: 65% (TRUSTED ALLY)]
Maverick grinned. He felt a smug satisfaction wash over him.
[Chat]:[Simp_Alert]: MAVERICK! WIPE THAT DROOL OFF YOUR FACE! [NTR_Police]: Mrs. Maverick, get the camera! He's cheating on you with a King! [Gamer_Girl]: To be fair, she is the cutest. Look at that blush! I've watched this clip 8 times already. [Sus_Guy]: Only 8? Rookie numbers. [Gym_Bro]: Why is everyone obsessed with the girl? I'm here for Maverick's glutes. Did you see that dodge roll? [Mod_Hammer]:User "ShowMeUrGlutes" has been timed out for 7296 hours. Reason: Down bad.[Rip]: 7000 hours?! That's like a year! [Justice]: The mods are tyrants!
The chat descended into chaos, but Maverick ignored them. He needed to loot.
He walked over to where the enemy Master had fallen.
There was no body. No blood. Just a glowing loot crate.
Max, the developer, had made a conscious choice here. Immersion was important, but PTSD was bad for retention. If players had to loot actual, visceral corpses after every kill, half the player base would vomit and quit.
"Immersion depends on scale," Maverick muttered, echoing a design philosophy he'd read once. "Too much realism becomes trauma. Just enough realism becomes fun."
He knelt by the glowing box.
[LOOTING...]
9x 9mm Ammo (Glock 17)
5x .300 Win Mag Ammo (WA2000)
1x Thompson Contender (1 Origin Round)
2x Frag Grenades
2x Smoke Grenades
"Jackpot on the grenades," Maverick noted, pocketing them. "But the submachine gun ammo is gone. That guy sprayed the whole mag at me."
He tossed the empty Calico M950 aside. In this game, guns didn't have infinite ammo pools. If you held the trigger down for three seconds, you were empty. Realism struck again.
He stood up, dusting off his trench coat. The awkwardness of his earlier compliment had faded, but Artoria was still looking at him with a mix of curiosity and shyness.
He decided to pivot to a serious topic. Deepen the bond.
"So, Saber," Maverick asked, trying to sound profound. "Why do you want the Holy Grail? What's your wish?"
Artoria stiffened. The shyness vanished, replaced by a solemn, regal mask.
"That question..." She looked at the horizon. "Indeed. It is vital to know if our hearts are aligned. But before I answer, Master... tell me. Why do you desire the Grail?"
Maverick blinked. He hadn't thought about it. He just wanted to win the game.
"Uh..." Maverick scratched his head. "World peace?"
It was a lame answer. He couldn't exactly say, "I want to get the 'Winner Winner Chicken Dinner' achievement."
Artoria stared at him for a long moment. Her green eyes seemed to pierce through his avatar, searching for the truth. Finally, she sighed softly.
"Do you know my story, Master?"
A holographic menu popped up in Maverick's vision.
[OPTION 1: "I know."][OPTION 2: "I know. (Watch Cutscene)"][OPTION 3: "I don't know."][OPTION 4: "I don't know. (Watch Cutscene)"]
Maverick paused.
This was the secret sauce of Type-Moon games. It wasn't the combat. It wasn't the gacha. It was the story. Max knew that if he just dumped players into a Battle Royale without context, they'd get bored. But if he made them care about the characters? They'd stay forever.
Maverick hovered his hand over Option 2.
[Chat]:[History_Nerd]: Dude, everyone knows King Arthur. Sword in the stone. Round Table. Lancelot slept with his wife. The end. Skip it. [Patriot]: Who cares about foreign myths? It's just a village brawl in fancy armor. Give me Three Kingdoms any day. [Lore_Master]: DO NOT SKIP. The author might have changed things! Plus, watching the cutscene gives Affinity points! [Simp_Nation]: I will watch Artoria read a phone book. Play the cutscene.
"Chat, relax," Maverick said. "I'm watching it. I want to see the graphics."
He pressed Option 2.
The world dissolved. The airport melted away into mist.
[FLASHBACK START]
Maverick wasn't in Fuyuki anymore. He was standing on a grassy hill in ancient Britain. The wind smelled of heather and rain.
In front of him stood a stone anvil with a sword embedded in it.
Around the sword, a crowd of knights and nobles were arguing. They were rough, bearded men, shouting about lineage and power.
And standing at the back of the crowd was a young girl. She looked no older than fifteen. She was dressed in simple squire's clothes, her blonde hair cut short. She looked small. Fragile.
But her eyes were burning with a terrifying resolve.
A man with white hair and a mischievous smile—Merlin—walked up to her.
"Are you sure?" Merlin asked, his voice echoing in Maverick's ears. "Once you pull that sword, you will no longer be human. You will be a King. You will be hated. You will be feared. You will die alone on a hill of swords."
The girl didn't hesitate.
"I know," she said. Her voice didn't tremble. "But the people are smiling. If I can protect those smiles... then I will trade my life for it."
She stepped forward. The crowd parted. She gripped the hilt of Caliburn.
She pulled.
The sword slid out of the stone as if it were made of air.
Golden light flooded the hill. The knights fell to their knees. The girl raised the sword, her face set in a mask of eternal duty.
The scene shifted rapidly.
Maverick saw her fighting dragons. He saw her leading armies. He saw her sitting on a throne that looked too big for her.
He saw her smiling at her knights, but the smile never reached her eyes. She was perfect. She was invincible.
And she was utterly, devastatingly alone.
Then, the fire.
The hill of Camlann. Bodies piled high. The sky turned red with blood and smoke. A knight in black armor lay dead at her feet—her own son, Mordred.
Artoria knelt in the mud, clutching her bleeding side. She looked at the carnage of her kingdom.
"I..." she whispered, tears mixing with the rain on her face. "I failed them. I was not a good King."
The scene faded to black.
[FLASHBACK END]
Maverick stood back in the airport, blinking tears out of his eyes.
"Holy crap," Maverick whispered.
[Chat]:[Crying_Pepe]: I came here to laugh at Maverick dying. Why am I crying? [Lore_God]: That was... heavy. "I was not a good King." Are you kidding me? She gave everything! [Simp_Nation]: PROTECT HER. WE MUST WIN THE HOLY GRAIL WAR. [Hater]: Okay, fine. The story is good. I admit it. [Merlin_Hater]: That wizard guy is a jerk! "You will die alone"? Who tells a 15-year-old that?!
Artoria was looking at him, her expression guarded. "You saw it, didn't you? My failure."
Maverick shook his head. "That wasn't failure, Saber. That was sacrifice."
He looked her in the eye.
"You want the Grail to redo it, don't you? To save your kingdom."
Artoria nodded slowly. "Yes. I wish to change the past. To select a King better suited than I. Someone who can save Britain."
Maverick felt a pang of sadness. She still didn't get it. She was the best of them.
"Alright," Maverick said, gripping his Glock 17. "Then let's get it for you. But first... we need to survive this airport."
He checked his map.
"The circle is closing," Maverick said, slipping back into gamer mode. "We need to move. Let's go win this thing."
Artoria smiled—a sad, small smile. "Yes, Master. Your will is my command."
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