“……how are there so many of them?” Mordred, the Traitor Knight, wasn’t sure if they were elated, or horrified, at the idea of so many incarnations of their father.
There was the King they knew growing up, cold, distant, but confident in her abilities.
There was the dark tyrant they had learnt dwelled within their father, when she had struck them down with Rhongomyniad.
There was the young girl who bore none of the weight or sins of history that defined Mordred’s history with their father.
And of course, because the greatest light would cast the darkest shadow, the Impossible Tyrant also apparently existed here.
Mordred had been lucky that they had been summoned during the lunch break, one of the only times all incarnations of their father would be confined to the cafeteria.
They were now holing up in their room, unsure of what to do.
They hated what their Father had done to them.
Yet, they had grown up idolising their Father, even aspiring to be like her, hoping even to succeed her.
They didn’t know how they would react, and that was just for the Father she had idolised. How were they supposed to deal with atleast FIVE completely different incarnations?
“Have you considered just interacting with them?” Dr Roman asked, eyeing the door to the side room Mordred had pulled him into.
He didn’t have a problem with the young Saber asking for help, but the manner in which they had done so could complicate issues.
Not because he was the sort of man Edward Teach was, but because he was the acting Director, and he needed to maintain some sort of appearance of being in control.
Besides, this sort of thing is EXACTLY what Ritsuka is useful for.
But alas, Mordred had dragged him here, so he had to help them.
Mordred turned an exasperated look towards him.
“You mean you want me to introduce myself to four completely different versions of my father, each one of them knowing different versions of the Knight of Betrayal? Are you deluded?”
Roman raised his hands in a placating gesture.
“Thats not what I meant. Whether you like it or not, your Master has made four contracts with four different iterations of your father, as well as a contract with you. Short of nullifying the contract and sending someone back to the Throne, your only options are to bite the bullet and see how each Artoria deals with you, or try and sneak around and never deal with them.”
Roman smirked.
“But I wouldn’t advise the sneaking option. The Would-be King enjoys exploring all of CHaldeas nooks and crannies, and the Tyrant King does a similar thing if she smells food.”
Mordred collapsed onto their backside, seemingly defeated.
“……but what if she hates me?” the Traitor Knight whispered, their head falling into their arms as they cradled themselves with their knees.
Roman smiled softly.
Ah, theres the issue. Never would’ve guessed the proud and brave Knight of Londinium had issues with rejection. Then again, that puts the whole Traitor story shes based on make a sick sort of sense.
“Well, if that happens, you can just not associate with her. While there are startling amounts of the King of Britain, we house a lot of other servants here too. I know a fair few of them would just love to have a partner in crime.”
The dejected Knight looked up from their spot against the wall, frail hope written across her features.
“Really?” the voice asked, so close to breaking that Roman’s heart hurt.
“Really. Plus, who knows what other sorts of Servants Ritsuka will make contracts with? If they’ve already made a contract with you, others like you are soon to follow!” Roman beamed, while also still confused at the sheer range of personality types Ritsuka had summoned.
I really hope its because of the summoning catalyst we used. Otherwise, Ritsuka might not be the person we think they are…..
“So, who do we start with first?” Mordred asked, now standing at their full height, armor on and ready.
Roman hadn’t realised the Traitor Knight had stood, or had outfitted themselves.
Honestly, the Blue Saber was a good choices, but she were also the one Roman KNEW she had actual problems with, and the possibility of her rejecting Mordred would break their morale.
The Alters were out of the Question. He didn’t think the Tyrant King or the King of Storms would care, but they were also blunt to the point of being painfully so.
Which left only one choice. The nicest, purest choice.
“Lets go say hi to Artoria Lily.”