Dawn never truly came.
Not the way it should have.
Camelot stood beneath a sky choked with shadow. The sun struggled to break through, its light dimmed by the sheer weight of magic pressing down upon the land. The wind carried a low, distant tremor—
The sound of an army.
Upon the walls, King Arthur stood at the front, Excalibur in hand, its golden light burning defiantly against the darkness. Around him, the Knights of the Round Table formed ranks, shields raised, armor gleaming despite the dim sky.
Below them, soldiers prepared. Archers lined the walls. Siege defenses were set. Every man knew what was coming.
Beside Arthur…
Merlin
His staff glowed faintly gold, runes already forming in the air around him. Wards layered over the city, ancient and powerful, designed to withstand exactly what approached.
He could feel it.
The scale.
The power.
"They're here," Arthur said quietly.
Merlin didn't respond immediately.
He didn't need to.
They both knew.
The horizon darkened.
Then—
They appeared.
An ocean of black and violet.
My army marched.
From the front lines, it looked endless. Death Knights in perfect formation, their glowing eyes burning through the gloom. Warbands marching behind them, disciplined and unified. Massive trolls stomping forward, each step shaking the ground itself.
And beneath it all…
Shadows.
Alive. Watching. Waiting.
At the center of it all—
Me.
I stood at the forefront, cloak of shadow curling around me, purple magic flickering like distant lightning across my fingertips.
And I smiled.
"Begin."
The world erupted.
The first wave hit the walls like a storm.
Arrows rained down from Camelot—hundreds, thousands—darkening the sky as they fell into my advancing forces.
They struck.
Pierced.
Dropped soldiers.
And then…
They stood back up.
The Grail's power surged through them, wounds sealing instantly, broken bones reforming as if nothing had happened. The Death Knights didn't even slow.
They kept advancing.
"Hold the line!" Arthur roared.
The gates shook.
Trolls reached them first.
Massive fists slammed into reinforced wood and iron, each impact sending shockwaves through the structure. Cracks began to form almost instantly.
Again.
Again.
Again.
The gates would not hold.
Merlin raised his staff.
Golden energy surged outward—
And the battlefield shifted.
A wave of magic expanded across the front lines—
And my Death Knights…
Collapsed.
Dozens—no, hundreds—fell apart instantly, their animation undone by Merlin's counter-spell.
I narrowed my eyes.
"Annoying."
He'd improved.
Adapted.
Good.
I raised my hand.
Shadows surged forward in response.
"Again," I commanded.
The fallen Death Knights reformed.
Bones snapped back together. Armor reassembled. Purple light reignited in their hollow eyes.
They rose once more.
Merlin's expression tightened.
Now he understood.
This wasn't necromancy alone anymore.
This was something worse.
The trolls broke the gates.
With a final, thunderous impact, the entrance to Camelot shattered inward, wood and iron exploding into fragments as my forces surged through the breach like a flood.
"FOR CAMELOT!" Arthur roared.
He charged.
Excalibur blazed like a star as he cut into my front lines, every swing obliterating multiple enemies at once. Death Knights shattered under the holy light, trolls staggered under the force of his strikes.
He was magnificent.
And completely outmatched.
Because for every enemy he cut down…
Two more took its place.
Inside the city, chaos erupted.
Changelings revealed themselves.
Knights turned on knights. Guards fell from within as blades struck from behind. Gates that should have been sealed opened. Defenses meant to hold… collapsed.
The city was already falling.
Merlin moved through the battlefield like a force of nature, golden magic tearing through my army, each spell devastating, each movement precise. He was the only one slowing the inevitable.
The only one making this… interesting.
So I stepped forward.
A shadow portal opened—
And I entered the battlefield.
Purple energy exploded outward as I arrived, knocking soldiers aside as my presence alone warped the air around me.
Arthur saw me immediately.
"Morgana!"
I smiled faintly.
"Brother."
Magic surged.
The battlefield seemed to pause—just for a moment—
As the two of us faced each other once more.
Behind him, Camelot burned.
Behind me, my army advanced endlessly.
This was it.
The beginning of the end.
And this time…
I wasn't leaving without victory.