>>95862460
"Father, there is a rift in our ranks" he told me solemnly as we poured over the tax forms. "Well spotted" I told him, "as you well know your siblings favour Artoria, while those of the old guard who fought for a better Camelot cleave closer to Morgan. But there will be no conflict. Their mothers know each other too well to risk war"

"And where do you think Galahad sits amongst them?" he asked. I hesitate.

I don't want to consider that possibility, but it's increasingly likely.

"Far away" I said, simply. Silently we congratulate each other for forcing him to not just take away the Round Table itself and turn it into a big dumb directed energy weapon.

He asked me then if I didn't trust him enough to speak all my plans, and I take pains to reassure him that he is everything I ever wanted in a son. And it is the truth. I've never had a son before. Lilith did not permit it, and I did not have the context to desire it. Now here I sit, with a bright dutiful young man who wants only to make me proud. And as for Mordred, well...she's doing her best, I thought as she waved at me while riding out with grim-faced Artoria. This was a land of miracles

I promise them both that one day, I will explain it all to them. When they walk with me as immortal godheads. But for now, to enjoy the simplicity of mortal duty.

For better or worse I thought later, snatching away the Holy Grail from Galahad. "What are you doing?" I asked sharply.

"Returning it" he replied without a trace of remorse or comprehension. I regard him. Lancelot's son, apex of the Round Table.

He reminds me of myself in all the worst ways. "Is there a problem?" he asked, sharp and cold as jagged ice. "This kingdom cannot last. It only makes sense to conserve resources by returning this"

"You swore an oath to defend this kingdom" I tell him, "and save the World"

"I have defended it enough" he retorts. "And the World itself has rejected this timeline. There has never been a fairer execution"

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