For the 6th time that day, Lancelot questioned his sanity.
Not counting the fact that he still retained his old class ability, the former Berserker class Servant of the Holy Grail War, currently probing through what he gathered to be a small shopping district, was unsure how he was even alive. He had been killed at the hands of the one who used to be his king, but instead of dying and vanishing from existence, he was now in a world that never should have existed. Lancelot had vague memories of the city he had inhabited while under the Mad Enhancement, but at the time he had been unable to truly appreciate how different it was from Britain. Looking back, it seemed more like a dream than anything.
That was no longer the case. The man who once held the title “Knight of the Lake” had regained his sanity, and with it the ability to analyze his surroundings. What he found deeply disturbed him.
The city was enormous, shaming even Camelot, the crown jewel of his old nation. Massive buildings that bore minimal resemblance to those from Lancelot’s lost home were tightly crammed together, separated here and there by incredibly wide roads that were coated with this black and white… substance that did not at all look like dirt or stone, and were traversed not just by people, but also metal wagons of all shapes and colors that somehow required no horses.
The largest constructions towered higher than any castle spire, and were seemingly composed of glass – GLASS – and he had even spotted what could best be described as a loud and enormous metal dragonfly as it flew overhead, far above. The shapes, colors, smells and sounds were all just so alien that the dark knight simply couldn’t wrap his mind around it all.
It felt so surreal. Lancelot couldn’t help but wonder if he hadn’t actually recovered from the Mad Enhancement.
And then there was that magic window that created a portal with which to see and hear people who weren’t actually there. But what really got Lancelot’s attention was the people who were shown in the portal – or more to the point, her.
Die.
It was her.
DieDieDie.
Arthur, the Once and Future King.
DieDieDieDieDie.
Lancelot ruthlessly crushed the voice as soon as he was aware of it. Whatever it was had haunted his dreams last night, before he had woken up in a no-man’s land and found his way here. He couldn’t remember it very well, but traces of it seemed to linger.
A passing pedestrian had been kind enough to inform him of the location the magic portal was connected to, despite giving the berserker some strange looks. Lancelot knew that the full plate armor and helmet he wore always stood out from among the common rabble, but the stares he was taking in from the commoners around him were more confused than awed or scared. It indicated that knights such as himself were not common here, and that was just one more oddity in this world of madness.
The former knight didn’t know how she could have gotten here, but then again his own existence was even more impossible. Truthfully, it was possible that he was mistaken and it wasn’t actually King Arthur at all. Her clothes resembled the local attire more than her kingly robes or armor, her golden hair flowed over her shoulder and her features seemed just a little bit sharper than he remembered, but Lancelot did not believe himself mistaken. The king simply could not be confused with anyone else.
A pit of anxiety was opening in his gut. He wasn’t sure how the woman who had once been his king would react to meeting him again. Did she remember what had transpired during the Grail War? Had it even happened in reality? Would she have him kneel before her and executed on the spot? Uncertainty ate at him, but the simple fact was he had nowhere else to go. He needed an answer, needed to understand, needed for something to make sense, and even if he were to not survive the endeavor, knowing that the king he once proudly served still lived on, even here, would be enough.
Finally, Lancelot reached his destination. There across the street she stood, commanding the attention of several men and women, some holding equipment he couldn’t identify. The former Servant had no doubt that this was Arthur, her radiance shining like the sun.
-Dirty dirty dirty you are dirty-
He didn’t allow himself to hesitate.
The Knight of the Lake stepped out of the shadowed alleyway to cross the street and was promptly taken the fuck down by the largest self-propelled metal wagon he had ever had the misfortune to encounter. The semi-truck crushed him under its wheels the way people step on insects.
Slowly, and painfully, Lancelot began to force himself onto his feet, gleaming white armor in Gawain’s likeness for all to see, and he had to wonder why on Earth being run over gave him such a strong sense of deja-vu.
