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"The King does not understand the human heart."
The voice wasn't Maverick's. It wasn't Artoria's. It was a narrator—a deep, sorrowful baritone that sounded like it was speaking from the bottom of a grave. It echoed through the headset, vibrating in Maverick's skull.
Maverick had pressed [Option 2: Watch Cutscene].
Instantly, the Fuyuki Airport dissolved. The modern world—the asphalt, the planes, the smell of jet fuel—was stripped away.
Darkness swallowed them.
Then, the scroll of history unfurled.
It wasn't a low-resolution video. It was a full-sensory dive into the past. Maverick could smell the damp earth of ancient Britain. He could feel the cold mist on his face.
The narrator continued, his voice heavy with regret.
"She was the Holy and Pure. The King of Ideals. The Once and Future King."
"She functioned with the precision of a machine. She was stricter with herself than any law could demand. She was an irreproachable figure who lived only to serve the weak and punish the wicked."
"But precisely because she was perfect... she was alone."
The mist cleared.
Maverick saw a grassy hill. Standing there was a young girl, no older than fifteen. Her blonde hair was loose, her dress simple. She looked innocent.
A man stood beside her. He had flowing white hair and a smile that was equal parts charming and terrifying. Merlin, the Magus of Flowers.
"Artoria," Merlin said, his voice echoing across the centuries. "Think carefully. Once you pull that sword from the stone, you will no longer be human. You will be a King. You will be feared. You will be isolated. And in the end, you will die a tragic death."
He leaned down, his inhuman eyes glinting.
"You could walk away. You could live a normal life, fall in love, grow old. Are you sure you want to walk this path of thorns?"
The girl looked at the sword—Caliburn—embedded in the rock. She looked at the chaotic, burning villages in the distance.
"I know the ending," she said softly. Her eyes hardened into steel. "But if I can protect their smiles... then I will trade my life for it."
She stepped forward. She gripped the hilt.
SHIIING.
Golden light flooded the world. The girl vanished, replaced by a King in silver armor. She bound her hair. She deepened her voice. She buried the girl named Artoria deep inside, leaving only King Arthur.
The scene shifted rapidly, a montage of glory and sacrifice.
Maverick saw her leading charges against barbarian hordes. He saw her uniting the fractured lords of Britain. She was invincible. She was a god of war.
But cracks began to form.
In a duel with King Pellinore, desperate to win for the sake of her people, she violated the code of chivalry. She drew her sword in a contest of lances. Caliburn shattered.
Broken, she went to the lake.
The water parted. A faerie arm rose from the depths, holding a shining blade that blinded the eye. Excalibur.
Merlin stood beside her again.
"Which do you prefer, Artoria?" Merlin asked, testing her. "The sword? Or the scabbard?"
Artoria looked at the blade. "The sword. It is sharp. It can cut down the enemies of Britain."
Merlin shook his head, a sad smile on his face. "You fool. The scabbard, Avalon, is worth ten times the sword. As long as you bear the scabbard, you will never bleed. You will never age. You will be immortal."
"I do not need immortality," Artoria replied instantly. "I need the power to end the war now. I need to protect my people today, not myself tomorrow."
She took the sword. She left the scabbard's true power behind.
It was her first mistake. It was her greatest virtue.
The Golden Age of Camelot began. She pushed back the Saxons. She defied the Roman Empire. She slew giants on Mount Saint-Michel.
But glory is fleeting.
The narration grew darker. The sky in the vision turned a bruised purple.
"The Age of Gods was ending. Magic was fading from the world. No matter how hard she fought, the decay of Britain was inevitable. It was fate."
Knights left Camelot to search for the Holy Grail, hoping for a miracle to save a dying land. Most never returned. The Round Table fractured.
Then came the betrayal.
The witch Morgan le Fay—Artoria's own sister—stole the King's genetic material through dark magecraft. She created a homunculus. A clone.
Mordred.
And while the external threats mounted, the internal rot spread.
Maverick saw Queen Guinevere, beautiful and lonely, weeping in a garden. She was the wife of a machine-perfect King who could never truly love her.
And there was Lancelot. The Knight of the Lake. The strongest warrior. He loved his King, but he saw the woman beneath the crown. He saw Guinevere's pain.
They fell in love. It was a tragedy, not a malice.
But consequences are brutal.
Maverick watched as the trap was sprung. Agravain and Mordred led thirteen knights to expose the affair. Lancelot fought his way out, a demon of rage, killing his former comrades.
In the chaos, Lancelot blindly cut down two knights guarding the door. Gareth and Gaheris.
They were Sir Gawain's brothers.
The brotherhood of the Round Table shattered instantly. Gawain, driven by grief, demanded justice. He forced Artoria's hand.
Maverick watched Artoria's face as she sat on the throne. She didn't cry. She didn't scream. She just looked... tired.
She sentenced Guinevere to the stake, as the law demanded. Lancelot rescued her, shattering the Kingdom's unity forever.
Artoria took her army to France to hunt Lancelot, leaving Mordred in charge.
It was the final mistake.
Mordred seized the throne. She spread lies that Arthur was dead. She raised an army of rebels.
The Battle of Camlann.
Maverick stood on the hill of Camlann. It was a nightmare. The ground was slick with mud and blood. Thousands of bodies lay piled in heaps.
In the center of the carnage, two figures stood.
Artoria, wielding the holy spear Rhongomyniad. Mordred, wielding the stolen sword Clarent.
"Father!" Mordred screamed, her helmet shattered, revealing a face identical to Artoria's, but twisted by hate and a desperate need for acknowledgement. "Look at me!"
Artoria didn't hesitate. She drove the spear through Mordred's chest.
But Mordred didn't die instantly. She pulled herself up the spear, impaling herself further, just to get within striking range.
SHUNK.
Mordred brought Clarent down on Artoria's shoulder. The cursed blade bit deep, shattering bone, severing arteries.
Mordred died.
Artoria fell.
The vision ended with a single, haunting image: The King of Knights, leaning against a tree, surrounded by the corpses of everyone she had ever tried to save. She was dying. She was alone.
And she whispered to the empty air: "I'm sorry. I couldn't save you."
[CUTSCENE END]
Maverick stood in the airport, his chest heaving. The silence was deafening.
Then, the chat exploded.
[Chat]:[Lore_Master]: I'm broken. I am actually broken. [Lancelot_Hater_99]: I HATE HIM! Lancelot is trash! The King trusted him! He was the bodyguard! How do you sleep with your best friend's wife while he's trying to save the world?! [NTR_Police]: This isn't even funny NTR. This is just depressing. [Mordred_Fan]: Mordred just wanted a hug! She was a clone made by a witch! It's not her fault! [Anti_Merlin]: Can we talk about the wizard? "You will die alone." Who says that to a kid?! That's grooming! That's gaslighting! [Tactician]: She chose the sword over the scabbard. She chose to fight rather than to be safe. That is... god, that's tragic. [Simp_Nation]: "The King doesn't understand the human heart"? Whoever said that needs to catch these hands. She understood it better than anyone! She sacrificed her own heart for them! [Gamer_Girl]: I am literally crying in the club right now. [Maverick_Fan]: Look at Maverick. He hasn't moved.
Maverick stared at the floor of the airport terminal. He felt a heavy weight in his chest.
He looked up at Artoria.
She was standing guard by the window, watching for enemies. She looked so strong. So composed.
But now, Maverick saw the cracks. He saw the girl who had stood on that hill and traded her happiness for a sword.
"Saber," Maverick said, his voice rough.
She turned. "Yes, Master?"
"Whoever told you that you didn't understand the human heart..." Maverick clenched his fist. "They were an idiot."
Artoria's eyes widened slightly. "Master?"
"You gave everything," Maverick said fiercely. "You didn't fail them. They failed you."
He checked his ammo. He checked his grenades.
"We're getting that Grail," Maverick declared. "And we're going to fix this. Not for Britain. For you."
Artoria stared at him. For a second, the mask of the King slipped, and a flicker of raw gratitude shone through.
"Thank you, Master," she whispered.
Maverick turned to the camera. "Alright, chat. No more memes. We're winning this war. Let's go."
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