"There you go."
Dorothy Lorvar said, her dreamy eyes smiling as she handed me the bracelet.
It was the dormant form of my mechanima, Basil, a white serpent biting its tail to form a perfect circle.
"Artemis brought her to me a month after you…" Her eyebrows furrowed slightly. "...died."
Her smile softened into something sad as she looked at the bracelet.
"Basil missed you so much she shut herself down. Probably so that the next time she activated, she would see you."
"Artemis brought her to me for safekeeping. I had half a mind to send Basil to High Princess Trinity, as a remembrance of her brother."
She chuckled softly. "However, the old man told me to keep her, even doing routine maintenance. It was as if he knew you would return."
I raised an eyebrow.
"Master Lorvar, seeing the future? I wonder which drink gave him that power?"
She laughed, a pleasant sound I didn't know I missed.
"Well?" she nodded toward the bracelet I held. "Go on, wake her up."
I nodded and lightly caressed the outer edge of the bracelet.
"Basil," I murmured. "Wake up."
Nothing happened.
I waited, breath held in anticipation.
Still nothing.
The emerald eyes of the serpent remained dark.
A small knot formed in my chest.
"That is odd," Dorothy said, worry creeping into her voice. "Her core is showing faint activity. Although it is dormant, it is still doing vital functions."
I looked at the darkened green eyes of the tiny serpent.
I then gently touched the head and let a thin stream of ardor flow through the contact.
For a moment, nothing changed.
Then, as if responding to my ardor, the eyes of the serpent began to glow a poisonous green.
The serpent's mouth opened, releasing its tail.
Its body unfurled.
The pristine white scales on the body shimmered and undulated in a mesmerizing pattern as the mechanima's body expanded.
Within seconds, the small bracelet had grown into a meter-long serpent that coiled naturally around my arm.
A soft, mechanical hiss escaped as it slightly opened its small mouth, revealing thin, transparent fangs whose size could be adjusted at will.
The serpent's glowing emerald eyes regarded me.
For a moment, we simply stared into each other's eyes.
Then, Basil let out a purr that vibrated through her entire body.
The mechanima leaned forward and gently bumped her nose against mine.
I smiled, warmth blossoming in my chest as I looked at my dear companion.
"Hello, Basi," I murmured. "I missed you."
The serpent nudged my cheek again with a contented hiss.
Dorothy clasped her hands together in delight.
"She looks so happy!"
She looked at me with a gentle smile. "I am so glad to see you alive, Mordred. Even the old man is happy."
I smiled back. "He would probably clobber me with his hammer for nicking my blades."
"That's fine," she dismissed it with a wave of her hand.
Then her eyes drifted over to my right sleeve, hanging empty from my shoulder.
Her expression softened.
"Mordred," she said carefully. "The old man and I have been thinking of making a prosthetic arm for you."
"One made of an alloy of morphium and a durable material of your choosing. It's on the house."
I looked at her.
Then at my empty sleeve.
Kay's suggestion to restore my arm echoed in my head.
I smiled. "I appreciate it very much, Dorothy. However, there is an experimental and difficult treatment where my arm might actually be restored."
She arched her eyebrows. "Really?"
I nodded, feeling a little bad about not telling her about Phoebe. Dorothy and her father already had a lot on their plates in the Shield.
"It's quite difficult and bloody expensive," I said with a small smile. "But I can get access to it since I am a royal."
"Ah," Dorothy grinned. "The perks of being a prince. You are finally abusing your power!"
We laughed together.
Then a tremor shook the store.
Weapon racks rattled against the walls, and several blades clinked against each other on display stands.
Dorothy's expression immediately shifted to annoyance.
"Goodness!" she sighed. "Ever since Jack returned from his expedition, he and the Commander have been shaking the Shield with their sparring sessions."
Another tremor rolled through the building. This time, it was heavier, shaking the many accessories hanging from the ceiling.
Dorothy frowned, her face becoming suspicious.
"That's… unusual." She tilted her head. "Is it just me, or have their sparring become even more intense?"
I felt the faint spark of ardor ripple through the air along with the tremor.
And immediately realized something.
This was not a normal spar.
"I think I'll go check it out," I said.
Basil slowly wrapped her long body around my neck like an oddly affectionate scarf.
I smiled at Dorothy. "Watching them both spar will give me some reference. Especially seeing Jack fight."
She smirked. "Your stigma is a real piece of work."
Then she climbed over the counter and stepped toward me before wrapping her arms around me in a warm hug, practically burying my face into her chest.
I didn't resist.
"Welcome back to the world of the living, Mordred."
*******
"You were clearly enjoying that."
Hallucination Iris floated before me, her illusory form passing through Deathwalkers as if she were a ghost.
I simply stared at her.
"Ah!" She covered her mouth with a mischievous grin. "Not a good idea to talk to me. You're already mentally unstable. Don't want to make your situation worse."
She tapped her temple.
"Let's talk to each other in our heads."
Looking around, she grinned.
'Look. Everyone is talking about you!'
She was right about that.
As I walked along the corridor, I heard the Deathwalkers whisper among themselves.
Whispers about the one who accepted the Madness of the Haema Incarnus and was taken into the Tear.
Whispers about the prince who returned from the dead.
Whispers about the Ghost of the Tear.
Hallucination Iris's grin widened.
"See?" She said in my head. "You are famous."
"Only for the time being," I replied in my head. "After I leave, the whispers will fade."
"I doubt that," she replied, tapping her chin in pretend contemplation.
I entered one of the many elevators in the Shield and selected my destination.
The door slid shut with a soft mechanical hiss.
A subtle hum surrounded me as the elevator descended.
The movement was so smooth that I barely felt the downward motion at all.
Hallucination Iris continued floating lazily before me as the elevator carried me below the surface of the Shield.
Particularly down to its biggest training and sparring rooms, built deep into the bedrock of the mountains to contain the titanic forces released in these specialized training rooms reserved for the strongest in the Shield.
Even inside the heavily insulated elevator, I could feel faint tremors vibrating through the surrounding stone.
The display showed the floor I selected, and Hallucination Iris drifted closer to me.
Her playful expression softened.
"Time for me to leave, love," she said, her voice carrying a hint of sadness. "Don't want to be termed as a loony by a goddess, do you?"
As her form disappeared, she reached out to touch my face, much to her failure. "I hope you won't see me again."
The elevator doors slid open, and I was greeted by the sight of the central atrium carved deep beneath the Shield.
The vast circular chamber stretched high overhead, its ceiling supported by enormous reinforced pillars.
Corridors branched outward from the atrium in every direction like the spokes of a wheel, each leading to different wings of the underground complex.
I turned to one of them and walked along its length, the ever-growing tremors vibrating the white walls.
Soon, I reached a door from which waves of ardor rolled over me like heat from a furnace.
Without a bit of hesitation, I opened the door.
I stepped into the observation chamber overlooking the battlefield, separated from the arena floor by reinforced glass capable of withstanding the most violent impacts and ardor strikes.
Three individuals were already inside.
Phoebe sat closest to the glass on a comfortable chair, her crystalline eyes silently watching the battle happening below.
Beside her stood a familiar young woman clad in a simple white, sleeveless dress.
When I entered, her cold blue eyes shifted toward me, and her white hair that faded into the same icy blue flickered like a mirage.
Like a hallucination.
But she wasn't one.
She was a hologram.
"So you finally managed to wake Basil," Minerva said, her eyes falling on the mechanima coiled comfortably around my neck.
"She's so cute!" the third person in the room exclaimed, stepping in front of me.
Uriel's fiery gaze brightened with childlike fascination.
"So this is Basil!"
She cautiously extended a finger toward the serpent.
Basil regarded the approaching finger with curiosity.
Then she gently booped it with her nose.
The malakh turned to me with an expression that clearly asked, "Can I pet her?"
Basil lifted her head and looked back at me, as if waiting for permission.
I smiled. "Sure. She is a nice lady."
I don't know how, but Basil somehow understood what I meant.
She uncoiled herself from my neck, slithering toward Uriel's arm, wrapping loosely around it.
"Humans are incredibly ingenious!" Uriel said, affectionately petting the mechanima. "Your technologies and creativity are a huge inspiration for us."
"That's… nice to hear," I replied.
My gaze shifted toward Minerva.
Her expression was noticeably tense.
"You look frustrated."
She nodded immediately with a huff. "Of course! The Saintess is arriving in fifteen minutes, and the Commander is busy with his spar."
He was certainly busy, just not with Jack.
Steel clashed against solid and sharp darkness as Kay crossed blades with Alisax below.
They flitted across the sparring court, locked in blinding bursts of motion, neither leaving a single gap to the other, a representation of the never-ending battle between daemons and Deathwalkers.
Alisax attacked like a storm.
Her strikes came from all directions, constantly shifting as sword strikes flowed into dagger thrusts and pole swings as she changed her instruments with fluid efficiency.
Since this was purely a combat spar, she refrained from using her shadow abilities, relying solely on her skills as a warrior.
Yet, even under the avalanche of attacks, Kay remained relatively calm, evading and parrying each strike with careful precision.
As I watched, Alisax abruptly switched weapons again. Her sword dissipated into smoky darkness as twin daggers appeared in her hands.
She lunged forward in a sweeping assault.
Sparks exploded as Kay caught the blades against his sword, an audible grunt escaping him from the force of the impact.
In the same motion, he twisted his body and kicked straight into Alisax's stomach.
A shockwave detonated from the impact like a thunderclap. It rattled the glass in the observation room and launched Alisax across the sparring court.
She hurtled toward the far wall, but instead of crashing into it, she planted both feet against the padded surface.
Bending her knees, she launched herself toward Kay.
Darkness coalesced in her hands in the form of a black scythe.
Kay stepped forward and entered a stance.
Just as their weapons were about to strike each other, Minerva's voice echoed through the entire room.
"The Saintess is arriving in ten minutes."
A wave of ardor burst outward as they froze mid-motion.
Their weapons rested lightly against each other's throats.
Alisax smiled. "You are an exceptional human, Sir Kay."
Kay inclined his head. "And your skills are phenomenal, Miss Alisax. I would say our combat skills are evenly matched."
Their voices were loud and clear despite the separation between them and us.
"I concur," Alisax replied, tossing her scythe in the air, and it dispersed into darkness.
Her silver eyes narrowed slightly. "It is a shame I could not force you to use your strand."
"Perhaps another time," Kay replied, placing his sword into his bracelet and casually adjusting his tie.
"But now, I have an appointment with the Saintess."
Then his blue glaze shifted toward the observation room.
Toward me.
"Oh, and Mordred. Your flight has arrived."