I had no real reason not to inform Stark about my reasons for sniffing around in Hell's Kitchen. However, I did keep a little bit hidden.
"So… there is a group of immortal ancient magic ninjas around in New York, who are doing unspeakable evils?" He clearly struggled to believe it.
"You took to the idea of magic, gods, and all that easily enough, but you stop at immortal ninjas?" I couldn't help but ask.
"Well. I wouldn't go as far as to say I believe any of that either, but I'm open-minded, or rather, for magic I feel like I can study that, like science, as for god… well I just don't think about it," he said with an air of carelessness.
"Well, be that as it may. I, too, am not sure about what the truth is with the Hand, but they are superhuman, the leaders at least. And given how much evil they do, I don't feel bad for coming after them."
"Well yeah." He agreed." They sure do sound like pieces of shit, but still, the fact a god came after them and didn't manage to bring them down, that is impressive right?"
"They've been hiding a long time," I said. "Burrowed in the cracks of this world, letting others do the dirty work. They aren't easy to find, and gods aren't all-knowing, all-powerful beings, just old, powerful, and sometimes wise." I corrected his view on godly beings.
Tony hummed, tapping the side of his mug again. "And now what? Are you planning to stick around and finish what you started? Or you heading back to magic Camelot?"
I sighed and looked out over the sea. "I will leave, staying around for too long will draw attention. Already, SHIELD is looking for me, and I doubt they are the only ones. And you know the political situation, being here is problematic."
He fell quiet at that.
He discovered what I was up to while I was busy. He was aware of my time at the casino; he found me easily, and even if that was due to JARVIS and knowing where to search, it suggested that others could likely do the same.
And he understood too well the problems her being here would cause.
I was easily the most problematic person in the entire world right now, upsetting so many people in power. The number of people wanting the king of Albion dead was even more than those who wanted him dead.
And he knew that almost every male out there wanted him gone.
After all, how could they compete with him?
But yes, the only reason she could even run around like this was because everyone thought King Arthur was a man. If they realized the truth, she would be causing problems big times.
The king of another nation, going around in another, killing its people? Criminal or not, that was a massive problem.
Tony let out a slow breath, the weight of what I'd said clearly landing. He ran a hand through his hair, mug dangling from the other.
"You're right," he muttered. "You sticking around—bad optics. The risks are just way too big, but still. You kicked the hornet's nest, and now that guy, Daredevil, might be in trouble."
I couldn't disagree with that. The attack on the trucks hadn't been low-key. I had no doubt that plenty of footage of it was in the hands of law enforcement. I didn't care, nor did Mordred, and Daredevil wore a mask, but the Hand would know.
And when they failed to find either Mordred or me, they will surely come for him.
"I can't stay," I said. "But that doesn't mean the hunt ends here."
Tony leaned against the balcony, shoulders tense. "You want me to keep going after them?"
"Are you telling me you won't do that?" I asked, I already know the truth.
"Damn, you know be pretty well, I guess I should be flattered." Because we both knew he couldn't sit still. Not when something like this was happening so close to himself.
Had it just been normal criminals, he might have been able to do nothing, but apparently immortal ones? That is something else entirely.
He wasn't likely to go around like Daredevil; he was a few steps above street fighting, but he would keep an eye on things and likely come flying when the fights went down.
"And what about the girl? You want her to be in on this?"
"I think," I said slowly, "she needs something to fight. Something real. Something she chooses."
Tony didn't respond immediately. He just watched Jessica through the glass—watched the way she rolled her eyes at Mordred's antics, but didn't move away from the table. Watched the way her fingers clutched the edge of her plate like she wasn't sure if she belonged, but wasn't running either.
"She's not ready," he said.
"I think she is, but she just doesn't know it yet."
He sighed. "Fine, I will look after her, and keep an eye on Daredevil and the Hand or whatever, but in return, I want something from you."
I narrowed my eyes slightly. "What?"
He pointed his mug toward the house. "Her. Mordred."
I blinked. "You want Mordred?"
"Not for keeps," he said quickly. "But she's strong, loud, terrifying, and clearly loves a good fight. That makes her a damn good fit for what's coming. You leave, but she stays. With me, Jessica, and this Daredevil guy. We keep the fight going."
I considered it.
Mordred had always needed a distraction. Something to burn that fire of hers on. And this city had plenty of evils to carve through.
Then there was Jessica, who was recovering and had come far in just one day. But she might still enjoy a friendly face, and who better than the person who freed her to fill that role?
And with Tony in charge of the mission, he would be able to keep things from turning too bad, though it wasn't without risks.
"You're sure you can handle her?" I asked, half warning, half serious.
Tony gave me a crooked grin. "No. But I don't believe it will be a problem. Give her a place to stay near the actions, money to live from, and Jessica to keep an eye on her day-to-day, and I'm sure things won't turn out badly."
I gave a small nod. "Then it's a deal."
Tony gave a crooked grin. "Then it's a deal."
I turned my head back to the glass, watching Mordred grin with her mouth full as she tried to argue something with Jessica, who looked equal parts annoyed and curious.
"She'll need purpose," I said quietly. "Don't let her get bored. That's when she becomes dangerous."
"I noticed," he muttered. "She already broke a sculpture just today, never mind the last time she was here."
I exhaled a short, fond breath. "Remember, she once caused the downfall of my entire kingdom, so don't try to get me too feel bad for you."
Tony gave a low whistle. "Yeah, thanks for that comforting reminder."
I offered him a thin smile and turned toward the glass doors.
Inside, the scene hadn't changed much. Mordred was still half-lounged over the table, flicking bits of bacon at Jessica while arguing about breakfast being "the most honest meal." Jessica was fending her off with a fork, and though her scowl was practiced, there was a spark behind her eyes now—an ember of life.
Good.
I stepped inside. Both girls looked up as I entered.
"Mordred," I said, and she sat up straighter. "It's time."
Mordred looked up from her plate, already grinning. "Finally done brooding with Stark? Let's bounce. I'm ready to crack some more heads."
I paused.
Jessica looked between us, catching the tension before it even formed.
"Mordred," I said gently, "you're not coming with me."
The grin slid from her face. "What?"
I walked over to her, keeping my voice calm, steady. "You're staying. With Stark. With Jessica."
Her brows pulled together, confusion giving way to disbelief. "The hell I am."
"You'll be needed here," I said. "We started something, and we didn't finish it, you yourself said you wanted to finish it didn't you?"
"I wanted to finish it with you!" She nearly shouted as she stood up.
"I have paperwork, not to mention all the other royal duties I need to attend to. And you, you have your own duties." I said as I stepped up to her, and placed a hand on her shoulder, leading her away from the other two.
"JARVIS," I whispered. "If you are listening, it's time to stop, what I say next is private, and if Stark learns of it… I will kill him."
There was a brief silence. Then JARVIS replied, with a tone more careful than usual: "Understood. Recording paused."
Mordred was still fuming under my hand, fists clenched, shoulders tight with refusal. She clearly didn't want to be left behind, she wanted to spend more time with me, I knew she treasured this experience.
Yet, all good things come to an end. "You know what is at stake here; if they truly know a secret of resurrection, we must know of it."
Mordred's lips parted, but no words came out. She looked like she wanted to argue—to scream, even—but all that spilled from her was a quiet, furious breath.
"I know what's at stake," she said, her voice low, edged. "I just didn't think you'd leave me behind. Again."
That stung, more than I expected.
"I'm not leaving you," I said. "I'm trusting you."
Mordred looked away, her jaw tight. "Same thing."
I stepped closer, placing a hand against her cheek. Her eyes snapped back to mine—angry, wounded, proud.
"No," I said. "It's not. You've grown, Mordred. Stronger. Wiser, even if you pretend not to be. You don't need me standing over your shoulder to be a knight. You are one."
Her expression flickered. The wall she tried to hold cracked for a second.
"You're lying," she muttered.
"The only one here lying is you; you are lying to yourself. I believe in you, even if the others don't, what they don't understand, I do." And I did think I understood her.
After all, I didn't just have the memories of the Arthuria she knew, the one she once followed and fought.
Within me was another set of memories, one not belonging to any of the many Arthurias that had appeared in singularities or grail wars.
A set a memories that knew of timelines that I had never stepped foot in, like apocrypha.
There, Mordred had shown a side of her I had never seen, and that allowed me a better understanding of her. That, along with the loyal Mordred of the Sixth singularity, I knew she didn't truly hate me.
She loved me, she respected me, and she hated me. She might be a clone of me, but she was so much more human than I could ever be.
She still wanted to punish the Hand due to their evil actions. In contrast, my divine mind had already shifted to other things.
I cared little for the suffering of one person, and more about a kingdom. I was changing, I had changed from the girl who fought and fell on the hill of Camlann. Mordred didn't know it, but she was so much like me back then.
Mordred didn't answer right away.
Her fists clenched tighter, nails digging into her palms. Her jaw trembled like she was about to speak—and then, with a growl of frustration, she turned her back to me.
But she didn't walk away.
"If we leave, Stark, Murduck, maybe even Jessica will continue the fight, but they can't know the truth, why we hunted them. I need someone here, someone I can trust to find me the truth, and only you can do that." I said, placing a hand on her shoulder, feeling it tense under my touch.
Her shoulders were stone beneath my hand, rigid with restraint. She didn't speak, not at first. But her silence wasn't rejection—it was a storm being contained.
I stepped in closer, my voice low, meant only for her.
"You don't have to like it," I said. "But you do have to accept it."
Mordred gave a low scoff, her head dipping slightly. "You're such a bastard sometimes."
"I know."
She stood like that for another breath, then two. I waited.
Finally, her voice came—quiet, bitter, but resolved.
"Fine. But you better come back. I'm not building some dumb Round Table with a rich guy, a blind guy, and a girl who still flinches at her own shadow."
"You'll make it work," I said. "You always do."
She turned halfway, just enough for me to catch the edge of her red eyes. "If they piss me off, I will beat them up."
"I know." I simply stated. Which took some of the wind out of her sails.
"Get Stark to give you a phone, and my number is here." I said, taking a card from my pocket and handing it over.
It wasn't really my number, but it would get in touch with me all the same. "If you need help or get what we are after, call me, and then return home. Maybe your triumph will help the others forgive you, making you take a step towards my throne."
I gave Mordred one last look—one more quiet, wordless promise—and then turned, leading us back into the room.
Jessica glanced up, brows drawn. Mordred looked sullen but composed, arms crossed, jaw tight. She didn't sit back down, but she didn't storm off either.
Tony was still by the kitchen counter, finishing his coffee and pretending not to watch like a hawk. He raised an eyebrow as we returned.
"Everything sorted?" he asked casually.
"No," Mordred grumbled.
"Yes," I said.
Jessica opened her mouth like she wanted to ask what that meant, but clearly thought better of it.
I gave the room a once-over, committing it to memory. The way the morning light hit the floor. The faint hum of JARVIS in the walls. The people here.
This was their battlefield now.
"This is no longer my hunt," I said, voice calm but formal. "The Hand is still out there. And you will need each other to stand against them."
Mordred didn't look at me, but she didn't argue either.
Jessica hesitated. "You really trust me with this?"
"I trust you to decide what to do with your freedom," I said. "But if you want to fight… then fight. Not because someone told you to, not because someone made you feel like you had to. But because you chose to."
Jessica swallowed, then nodded. "I'll try."
"That's all I ever asked."
Tony, meanwhile, had set his mug down and crossed his arms. "You sound like someone giving a retirement speech."
"Not retirement," I said. "Delegation."
He snorted. "Right. Passing the torch."
"Exactly."
There was a moment of stillness between us. Quiet, but not awkward. It was the kind of silence that came when everyone understood their place in something bigger.
I reached into my coat and pulled out the small drive Stark had given me earlier—the arc reactor data. I held it up between two fingers.
"This will do," I said.
Tony nodded. "It's everything I've got. The reactor blueprints, Howard's old models, and what little I've managed to decode from the element design. I don't think you'll be able to synthesize it yourselves, though. It's not like forging a sword or boiling herbs in a cauldron."
"Perhaps," I said, slipping the drive into my inner pocket. "But I have a kingdom of millions."
I met his gaze, steady and certain.
"I'm sure at least a few of them can."
(End of chapter)
So, yeah, a secret totally unexpected team up! Mordred will get a few chapters of glory. I do love Mordred, and she haven't gotten the attention she deserves.
Plus, there is still some time until things start kicking off with threats that our lovely king Arthur can face off with properly, so rather than going right back to kingdom building, or skipping a few months ahead, Mordred time!
Mordred time!
In fact, the next 6 chapters will all be Mordred time, giving our lovely little fireball some action. So look forward to that!
Support me at patreon.com/unknownfate – for the opportunity to read 30 chapters ahead.