Chapter 1: Kismet Encounter

A man, a goddess, and a deity stand in a singular place. The realm is tranquil and empty, filled only with ankle-deep water that stretches infinitely. This water is the physical manifestation of mana, creating a boundless, serene expanse. In this vast, empty domain, the man, the goddess, and the deity clash in a fierce battle. The man, though determined, finds himself overpowered. The goddess, meant to aid him, is in a frenzied state, her expression a mixture of fury and rage. A mere mortal, the man is already gravely injured from their struggle against the deity. Desperately reached out to the goddess, but instead, he met with a dismissive gesture.

Goddess: Be gone!

With a simple wave of her hand, the goddess conjures a massive energy slash, slamming into the man and causing him great damage. He is nearly killed instantly, coughing up blood as deep cuts mar his body. His vision blurs and darkens, unable to comprehend that the one he relied on most has turned against him. Shocked and terrified, he witnesses the deity's smug laughter as it attacks the goddess mercilessly. Locked in combat with the self-proclaimed deity, the goddess spares a furious glance at the man, as if ready to devour him whole. Overwhelmed by fear and hopelessness, he flees from this unfamiliar place.

Later, sitting alone in an empty park under the night sky, the man gazes down, his mind lost in thoughts. His bag holds a collection of old, ancient scrolls, made from yellowed yet sturdy papyrus. Taking a moment, he glances at a photo inside his wallet, sighing in desperation. The picture shows a man and a woman, their expressions both friendly and romantic, like a married couple. He sighing with desperation. Folding the wallet and tucking it into his pocket, he continues walking forward.

????: Here we go again...

With a sad and grim expression, he retrieves one of the scrolls from his bag. He unties the unknown inscriptions and unravels it, and the scroll is levitating in the air. The scroll levitates in the air as if the scroll answers his call.

????: Perfect Bypass! Summon! Mordred Pendragon!!

The scroll ignites in a brilliant blue flame, burning from the bottom to the top, leaving no trace behind. Suddenly, an explosion erupts before him, and from the billowing dust emerges a figure, standing firm with a sword pointed downwards to the ground. As the figure removes her helmet, she speaks with pride.

Mordred: I am Mordred Pendragon, one of the knights of the Round Table, the rightful heir to the throne of my father!

With a confident smirk, she looks directly at the man.

Mordred: So, are you my master?!

With a swipe of her sword, Mordred clears the dust surrounding her. The man, devoid of excitement or fear, sits calmly before her, sighing as he meets her gaze.

Mordred: Oi! I'm asking if you're my master!?

????: No. I am not your master.

Mordred scans the area, finding only the two of them. She senses no magical presence in the air and points her sword at the man, its tip just a millimeter from his throat.

Mordred: Then who are you?

The man maintains his expressionless gaze on Mordred.

????: My name is ...

The man stopped in the middle of his speech as if something contradicted within him. Mordred still pointing her sword towards the man while tilting her head a bit wondering what was stopping the man from talking.

G: My name is, G... it is my initial name.

Mordred: G? What kind of lame name is that? if you are not my master! then what are you?

G: I am the one who summons you but I am not your master.

G extends his hand, showing the back of it to Mordred.

G: look at my hand, there is no command spell engraved, and there is no summoning circle beneath your feet.

Mordred is confused by the revelation as if this is something bizarre, new, and not normal. She did gain the knowledge of the current world but this is something she didn't know at all, as if something so alien to her. She readied herself, she stood guard against the man, She could not trust the man who sat in front of her.

G: I summoned you using a scroll that can bypass the event's rules..

Mordred: huh, what the hell is that...?

The man sighs, clearly weary as if he's explained this before and is now repeating himself.

G: Take a seat. This will be a long explanation...

Mordred lowers her guard, her curiosity piqued. She feels a strange familiarity towards the man but struggles to recall where and when they might have met. She lowers her sword and takes a seat on a nearby bench. Raising an eyebrow, Mordred asks her question.

Mordred: Say, have we met before? Your face is kinda... familiar... I know that face, but I can't remember where or when.

G: It's complicated. Besides, you are not bound to me, Mordred.

Mordred: Not bound to you? Don't sprout nonsense! A servant cannot exist without a master. You summoned me, I answer your call, so you must be my master. We formed a contract as master and servant.

G shakes his head before continuing.

G: You did not answer my call. I summoned Mordred Pendragon, who closely resembles the original Mordred Pendragon from the Battle of Camlann. You are not a mere heroic spirit who answered the summoning call. You are about 10 to 12 in similarity with the original Mordred Pendragon, not the original herself, but close.

Mordred is shocked and in disbelief, not understanding what the man is talking about.

Mordred: What the hell are you talking about!?

G: Can't you feel it? Your existence didn't disappear, and you don't feel uneasy. Your mana replenishes itself. you don't need a master to fill it. You won't vanish even if you exhaust your mana, and as for strength and weaknesses still the same as other heroic spirits, nothing changes except that.

Mordred tries to grasp the concept, gripping and loosening her hand, trying to feel what G is referring to. She senses a difference, a newfound vitality coursing through her. It's a sensation she can't quite remember but is reminiscent of her mortal days.

Mordred: Then who are you? If you're not my master, who exactly are you...? I feel like I know you...?

G: I come from the future, or rather, from a different singularity...

Mordred: say what? did you travel back in time? are you a mage or something?

G leans forward, no longer maintaining eye contact with Mordred. He gazes off into the distance.

G: Yes, something like that, but not exactly. I'm no mage, I can't use magic, and I don't use mana either.

Mordred: It's all very confusing... Alright, let's start with why I feel like I know you.

G: Because in the future-...

He pauses, glancing back at Mordred, carefully looking at her face, her features, her hair.

G: We-... Do you really not remember me? My name? Anything...?

Mordred: I do sense familiarity, but apart from that, no, I can't remember anything. Everything feels vague, and the more I try to remember, the more it slips away. So enlighten me.

G: I see... I understand... In the future, we are... a couple... lovers...

Mordred: huh!? what!? wait what!? a lover? As if I am your girlfriend or something?

G: I know, it is a lot to take in... but yes, we are a lover.

Mordred: What proof do you have...?

G takes out his wallet, stands up, and moves toward Mordred. He hands her two pictures before returning to his bench. Mordred examines the first picture of G and herself, both wearing radiant smiles. One photo seems to have been taken in a photo booth, with words embedded on it. On Mordred’s side, the words read, "He is mine, don't take," in pink with a white outline. On G’s side, it says, "That's what she said," in yellow with a purple outline. It looks like they edited the picture in the booth.

Mordred turns the photo over, checking its authenticity. She then looks at the second picture. This one is more romantic and happy, showing Mordred hugging G closely, her face leaning on his cheek. Both are smiling, a happiness she has never known in her mortal life. She leans in, studying the picture, shocked by the joyful moment captured, a memory she doesn't recall having.

Mordred: is this... real...?

G: As far as I'm concerned, it's real. My love for her is real, beyond any doubt...

She turns her gaze to G, her expression showing concern.

Mordred: What happens to me in your future? Did I... die?

G looks away slightly before answering.

G: No... you are turning into the Goddess of Rebellion... you love me way too deeply, you care about me way too much, and you are extremely overprotective towards me. In our final battle against overwhelming odds, I suffered grave injuries. Witnessing my state, you were consumed by rage, anger, and a thirst for vengeance that filled the infinity within the realm. You lose your composure, you blindly charge to the enemy and as the attack progresses, you turn yourself into the Goddess of Rebellion...

Mordred: Goddess... of Rebellion...?

G: You rebel against everything even to the very concepts, to your enemies, and even to love itself. Basically, you are untouchable and unreachable. You no longer recognize me. You tried to kill me. I... I was afraid and ran away, desperately turning back time with the power of the Holy Grail...

Mordred looks back at the picture, still struggling to believe if this is real or just a dream.

Mordred: And now, here you are... with me...?

G: Yes... I love her... I love Mordred Pendragon... But I've been running away from her...

Mordred looks down, rises from her seat, and walks towards G. She returns the pictures to him and sits next to him, still shaken by the revelation. Piece by piece, the dots in her mind connect, the reason for her inexplicable familiarity with G becoming clearer.

Mordred: ...

Silence enveloped the two figures as they grappled with the weight of their circumstances. Mordred, seeking to understand her connection to G, felt a flicker of recognition buried within her memories. Uncertain of the depth of her emotions compared to the Mordred from G's previous world, she grappled with her role in this unfamiliar scenario.

Mordred: I'm at a loss, unsure of what to make of all this. I imagine any servant in my position would feel the same.

G turns to face Mordred, looking her in the eye.

G: Mordred, we don't adhere to the traditional master-servant relationship. I am not your master, and you are not my servant. However, I need your cooperation to put an end to this senseless Holy Grail War.

Mordred glances at G, turning her head slightly.

Mordred: You want to end it all? Why?

G: The Holy Grail has the power to grant wishes and infinite mana. But when a wish is granted, it creates a new singularity, a world where that wish comes true. However, when you ask for a peaceful world, it simply creates a new singularity where the world is peaceful with you in it rather than give you a peaceful world on spot, and the previous singularity where the world is not peaceful is still exists, it still continues.

Mordred: So, when you wished to turn back time...

G looks down, grasping his hand.

G: Exactly. Instead of going back in time, I ended up in this new singularity. The Mordred Pendragon I love is still in the previous singularity.

Mordred: So what is your plan?

G: By eliminating the Holy Grail itself. It's not just a relic, it houses a self-proclaimed deity who revels in war. We need to defeat that entity.

Mordred looked at G, a determined expression on her face, as she sought to understand her purpose in this summoning. She rises from her seat, pointing her sword to the ground in a knightly pose. Speaking with determination and confidence, as if she is about to give her knightly oath.

Mordred: Though I may not be the same Mordred from your world, I am determined to uncover the truth. I want to know why your Mordred fails to recognize you despite her deep love for you. I may not be bound to you as a servant, but if what you say is true, then I want to see the end of it.

For the first time, G smiles kindly at her.

G: Thank you, Mordred Pendragon.

G rises from his seat, and together they walk to the parking lot and leave the park by car.