I Died And Reincarnated Into Marvel as Goddess Artoria

POV: Artotia Pendragon

Castle Camelot

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The chamber of the Round Table hummed softly with residual magic, the lingering light of Merlin's summoning still faintly illuminating the room.

I stood in front of my chair at the iconic table, Rhongomyniad and Excalibur resting on its surface, their divine energies forming an intricate web of golden runes.

The air was heavy with purpose, though a flicker of uncertainty danced in my heart.

After summoning Merlin, who turned out to be a radiant and mischievous woman rather than the mentor I had known, the Goddess prepared herself for what would undoubtedly be a more personal and emotional test.

The golden light of the table glimmered faintly, casting long, intricate shadows across the walls, and yet it felt like the room itself was holding its breath.

My chest tightened as I stared at the crest-marked seats. My gaze lingered, as it often did, on one particular seat: the one with the red dragon.

Mordred's seat.

"You're unusually quiet, my King," Merlin said, her tone carrying an amused lilt. She leaned lazily against her staff, her lavender eyes glinting with curiosity.

"If you furrow your brow any further, you might accidentally summon a storm instead of a knight." Merlin teased.

I glanced over my shoulder at her, leveling her with what I hoped was a stern look. Her silver hair shimmered under the light, her lavender eyes brimming with humor.

If she noticed my faltering expression, she didn't comment. Instead, she leaned casually on her staff, watching me with an air of curiosity.

"Merlin," I began, forcing my voice to steady, "do you think it's wise to summon Mordred first? Should I... start with someone else?"

Her grin widened, and I immediately regretted asking. "Oh, my dear Artoria," she cooed, "you're asking me for emotional advice? Truly, this new Camelot is a marvel."

I gave Merlin a flat look, though the corners of my lips twitched with a faint smile. "Merlin, this is important. I cannot simply rush into summoning all my knights without first addressing the past."

I hesitated, my voice softening. "I must speak to Mordred first."

Merlin's eyes widened slightly, then softened. "Ah, I see. The rebellious son—or should I say, the daughter who yearned for your acceptance. And here you are, ready to bring her back." She smiled faintly. "How very poetic."

She then straightened, her expression becoming serious. "You're worried about her reaction."

I didn't reply. Instead, I turned my gaze back to the table, to that seat. "I failed her," I admitted, my voice quiet. "In so many ways. I wanted to protect her, but I ended up driving her away. I—"

"—Are human," Merlin interrupted, stepping closer. Her tone was uncharacteristically gentle. "Even gods and kings falter. And Mordred? She's just as much a part of you as Camelot itself. Whatever happens when she appears, you need to accept her—and let her accept you."

"But I hurt her." I admitted, my voice trembling slightly. "I denied her, not because I didn't love her, but because I feared what others would think. I feared that accepting her as my heir would fracture the fragile unity of Camelot."

My hand tightened around the edge of the table. "And in doing so, I caused her pain. Pain that led to... everything."

Merlin stepped closer, her playful demeanor subdued. She placed a hand on Artoria's shoulder. "You cannot change the past, my King, but you can make peace with it. Summon her. Speak to her. Perhaps she has already forgiven you."

I nodded, my gaze fixed on the glowing runes. "I failed her. Not just as a King, but as... a parent." The words caught in my throat, heavy with regret. "She deserves an apology—an honest one. I want her to know that I accept her, truly."

Merlin approached, placing a gentle hand on Artoria's shoulder. "Then summon her," she said simply. "Speak from your heart, and let her decide how to respond. But fair warning, my King: Mordred isn't one to mince words. Prepare yourself."

I let out a small, wry chuckle. "When have I ever been unprepared for a challenge, Merlin?"

I exhaled deeply, the tension in my shoulders loosening just slightly. Merlin was right. This Camelot, this new beginning, couldn't move forward without confronting the past. I stepped back, taking my place at the head of the Round Table.

I started to pour my mana and od back into The Round Table. The crossed Rhongomyniad and Excalibur lighting up the room with their brilliance once again. The two weapons, embodiments of my connection to the world and humanity, glowed as I placed them as they sat at the center of the table, their energies intertwining. The Holy Grail within my divine being resonated, amplifying the power of the summoning ritual.

I thought about it, that maybe I should use a new summoning incantation. One that relates to this new situation that I found myself in....yes that should do.

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"I call forth into time...

To heroes of legend...

Through wishes crystallized...

One of the individual, one of the collective, and one of civilization...

These are the final wishes of humanity."

The air around me thickened, swirling with power as the summoning circle at the table's center grew brighter. Memories, my memories, rushed through me like a torrent, spilling into the magic.

"As I stand upon this new world, before the brink of a new age...

Take form from legend, armed to fight once more.

From the collapse, we will forge a path.

And from that path, we will carve a future.

Through you, I embody change...

And through me, you embody will."

The light surged, illuminating the entire chamber in a brilliant glow.

"To those written into legend, of Heroes and Villains,

from Men, from Kings, from Gods...

To those who hail to heed the call...

Come forth under the light of the world, and become the path its light shines upon!"

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The magic surged, a brilliant golden light exploding from the table's center. The air crackled with power, and the room trembled as the summoning reached its climax. I shielded my eyes as the light consumed the space, the sheer force of the ritual sending a wave of energy through Camelot.

When the light faded, a figure stood in the circle. Mordred.

She wore her familiar armor, though it bore signs of wear and battle, as if she had stepped directly from the events of her own legend. But her helmet was removed, revealing her golden hair tied back and and her crimson eyes locked onto mine with a mix of shock and recognition.

"...Father," Mordred said, her voice low and uncertain. Her gaze flickered around the room before settling back on mine. "Why did you summon me?"

I stepped forward, my heart pounding. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came. The weight of my guilt and longing threatened to overwhelm her.

Merlin, ever the opportunist, chimed in. "Oh, this is going to be good," she murmured, taking a seat on one of the chairs and watching the scene unfold with a mischievous grin.

I swallowed, my heart pounding. "Mordred..." I began, my voice faltering slightly.

"Mordred," my voice soft but steady. "I summoned you because... I need you. Not just as a knight, but as my child."

Mordred's eyes widened, and she took a step back. "Your child?" she repeated, her tone laced with disbelief. "After everything? After you denied me?"

"I was wrong," I admitted, my voice trembling. "I let fear dictate my actions. I was afraid of what others would say, afraid that the people wouldn't accept you as my heir. But in doing so, I failed you. I failed to see you for who you truly are."

"Hold up," Mordred interrupted, pointing at her. "Why do I... know everything?" Her eyes narrowed, the weight of Artoria's memories clearly registering. "You—you've been carrying all that guilt? All that self-doubt? Seriously?" She scoffed, though her tone lacked true venom. "Man, you really don't know how to let things go, huh?"

I blinked, stunned by Mordred's reaction. "I... you have my memories? My thoughts?"

Mordred shrugged. "Yeah, looks like it. Thanks to that Grail stuck inside you or whatever. At least thats what it said." She stepped closer, her smirk softening into something almost resembling a smile. "You don't need to apologize, you know. I get it now. Why you acted the way you did back then."

My eyes widened. "You do?"

Mordred sighed, running a hand through her hair. "Yeah, yeah. You were trying to protect me. Didn't handle it all that great, "

Merlin snorts in the background, but Mordred pays her no mind and continues.

"but... I guess I wasn't exactly easy to deal with either." She glanced away, her voice dropping. "Still doesn't change what happened, though."

"I know," I said, stepping closer. "And I don't expect you to forgive me so easily. But I want you to know the truth: I love you, Mordred. I always have. Not as an heir, not as a weapon, but as my child. And if you'll let me, I want to start over."

The room was silent except for the faint hum of magic lingering in the air. Mordred's fists clenched at her sides, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Mordred was looking at the ground, her expression unreadable. Then, she huffed, a crooked grin spreading across her face. "Well, if you're gonna be all sappy about it, how can I say no?" She looked up and jabbed a thumb at her chest. "Guess I'll stick around, at least long enough to see you summon the rest of those clowns."

I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding, a genuine smile breaking across my face. "Thank you, Mordred."

"Don't thank me yet," Mordred said with a smirk. "Let's see how you handle the rest of 'em. And for the record, if Lancelot tries anything, I'm taking his chair."

Merlin, who had been watching the exchange with barely contained amusement, finally chimed in. "Well, isn't this touching? Shall we get to the rest of the knights, or do you two need a moment?"

"Merlin," I warned, though my tone held a hint of exasperated affection.

Mordred snickered. "Yeah, you haven't changed much, Merlin. Still an insufferable know-it-all."

"And you, Mordred, are still wonderfully predictable," Merlin retorted, grinning.

I shook my head, but a warmth spread through my chest. This was a new beginning, not perfect, but full of hope. Together, they would rebuild Camelot, one step at a time.

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Question: Who you your favorite knight of The Round Table?