Clang.

Clang.

Clang.

Clang.

Metal struck metal. Steel against steel. Blade met blade. These were the repeated sounds of swords clashing across the battlefield. Perhaps the only sound these two warriors were accustomed to. That they were ever allowed to live through.

Clang.

Clang.

Clang.

Clang.

The sounds never stopped. Ferocity met calm. Blood lust against lost pride. Rebellion against cynicism. These were but few of the ways these two clashed in, yet were bound by something more. Black and white struck silver. Sparks flew everywhere. Speed not possible by normal humans shown by the blurs of red.

Eventually, a final clash of blades occurred, locking against each other for just a brief second before the two opponents backed off. They took that moment to assess each other's condition.

The male of this battle took a breath, several bruises and cuts all over his body. His red cloak was tattered and blood seeped over his right eye. His left arm was severely damaged, yet he still raised both his shortswords in preparation, his grey eyes boring into his opponent.

The female of the combat bared a feral grin, not nearly as many wounds on her. However, a cut adorned her cheek, and her armor was dented everywhere. Her armor across the abdomen was nearly sliced off, but she still raised her sword as her blonde hair bellowed in the wind.

The two stared off with each other for quite some time, neither making a move nor a sound. Eventually, the female spoke.

"Heh, what do you know? After all our time up to this point, I'm glad that my desire for this was not a fruitless one."

"Well, I am glad that I have not disappointed you. I aim to please." The male retorted calmly.

"Though, you got to admit, you don't seem to stand a chance against me. The differences between us are clear, and you know it. You can't win." The female proclaimed.

"Maybe so, and yet you have not managed to finish me off." The male pointed out. "You have landed many blows, but not the fatal blow. Not very good for the reputation of a knight such as yourself."

"Don't get so cocky! For that comment, I'm gonna make sure you feel twice as much pain here!" The female shouted.

She then roared, pulling her sword, and actually throwing it towards the male with great force. The male, caught off-guard by the action, quickly brings up his blades to knock the incoming sword away. But that costs him as the female is suddenly onto him in a flash, and punches him as hard as she can in the face. The male has no choice but to skid back, visage contorted in pain as his opponent catches her sword and begins swinging at her opponent with ferocity more matching a wild beast than an honorable knight. The male warrior barely kept up at this point, controlling the flow of battle as he warded off the blows aiming to kill as much as he could, silver pushing back black and white.

The female then kicked the male warrior in the gut, and used the chance to swing her blade down to cleave him in two, but the intersecting of his two swords blocked the blow. She grunted in annoyance, but suddenly her sword was pushed away and she barely avoided a kick aimed for her midsection, backing up to put some distance. However, when she did, the white sword was suddenly thrown at her, and on instinct, she dodged it. However, that left an opening as her opponent charged and swung his sword. The female managed to block it in time with an upward swing, but she suddenly saw the white sword suddenly coming back towards her. Eyes widening, she barely sidestepped, the sword grazing her cheek as her opponent caught it. Thoroughly frustrated with that, she suddenly swung downwards with incredible speed, her opponent barely backing away in time to dodge it before skidding to a halt, staring her down.

"While I am not inclined to stop fighting, I must say there's something I don't understand. Why desire to fight me so badly?" The male questioned with a stoic gaze. "I know you like to fight, but at the same time, why me so badly? I can't be so special compared to the other Servants in the War to warrant this attention."

The female knight did not answer right away, simply looking down in thought. She then stared up with a strong expression directed towards her opponent. "Because after all this time, I want to know you. Who you really are." She simply proclaimed, raising her blade. "And since you won't tell me, I will find out through the one way I know we're both immersed with. Battle. I will learn who you are through our battle."

Archer grimaced at those words, too many memories flooding through, before glaring at his opponent. "...No. You don't to know who I am, Mordred. You don't. And you can never understand. You fight a pointless battle. Utterly foolish."

"Like hell I am! No one calls me a fool and gets away with it!" Mordred shouted in anger.

The knight known as Mordred suddenly burst with prana, and with Prana Burst, burst forward faster than Archer could keep up. Grey eyes widened in shock as they went to the right, showing Mordred right beside him as she swung her sword as hard as he could. The only thing Archer could do was lift up his swords up and...

KRRSSHH!

Kanshou and Bakuya, the twin swords of Archer and the symbols of his soul, couldn't stand up to the force of the blow from Mordred's corrupted sword, Clarent. They shattered into pieces, and Archer was sent skidding across the ground as a result. But only for a second as he quickly recovered, pushing himself into the air and projecting his bow, firing rapid-fire arrows right at Mordred. The knight responded by swinging her sword at high-paced speeds, knocking away every arrow that came close before taking a stance with her blade, staring at Archer. The warrior in red in turn landed on the ground, bow aimed at Mordred for another volley, but never got the chance.

"The way your swords shattered so easily... Yeah, I can see it now." Mordred stated as she pointed Clarent at him. "I could feel it through our swords. You have no pride in yourself or your skills. And that's just a shame, Archer. Really. To be a hero, and yet have no pride? That's just sad to know."

"And I've always known that you have too much pride." Archer retorted with narrowed eyes. "How many times have I heard you claim your strength, or how you're superior to Arturia? Quite foolish. It's become quite repetitive really. You really trying to make up for being in Arturia's shadow that much?"

And that response earned him an immediate fist to the face.

Predictably. And more importantly, painfully.

Faster than he could react, Archer was sent flying by the fist that had lodged itself into his face after the distance was suddenly closed, and sent through a few trees, sending them crashing down hard. Archer rolled across the ground before skidding to a halt on his feet, the side of his face practically having the imprint of a fist on it. Archer grimaced and looked up, and realized what just hit him.

A petite blonde knight with the look of the devil enraged on her, fist outstretched as she was glaring mercilessly at Archer. As if not believing he would have the gall.

"Don't you ever say that again." Mordred growled like an animal. "Don't you ever imply that about me and my father EVER AGAIN! YOU HEAR ME, ARCHER?!"

"...Seems I struck a nerve." Archer noted as he stands up, bow still in hand as he readily notches an arrow. "Well, what can you expect from someone with so many father issues? I can only imagine that was one of many reasons why you never became King."

"...I WILL HAVE YOUR HEAD, ARCHER!" Mordred roared out.

Overcome with rage, Mordred charged forward almost like lightning, but Archer wasted no time in suddenly jumping back into the forest behind him. Mordred, in her rage, wasted no time in entering the forest, slicing through the trees to try and get at her opponent. But Archer remained ahead of her, using the trees as cover as well as higher ground, raining arrows upon her from above. Mordred dashed through the trees, swinging her blade to knock the arrows once more, but she realized that her maneuverability was compromised because of the amount of trees that stood in her way. The forced her to move to keep moving, or waste precious seconds cutting them down, and it was all costly against Archer.

Mordred gritted her teeth, hating that she let herself get pulled into this field that benefited Archer. She had to think quick or-

"Hrunting!"

Mordred's eyes widened as the name was called, and she could do nothing as a red magical bullet struck her in the chest, exploding upon impact. She was sent skidding across the forest from the power of the Broken Phantasm, managing to roll to her feet no worse for wear thanks to her armor. She was about to charge, when suddenly an arrow struck her arm. She was taken back, before another struck her side, and then she was getting pelted with arrows over and over. The impact of the arrows kept making openings for the next arrow to strike, and keep pushing her back, unable to allow her to retaliate.

Archer was perched on the highest branch on the forest, using the position to fire his volley of arrows at Mordred repeatedly. The mass of trees did not deter him, his hawk-like eyes able to find the best paths for his arrows. Once he was sure that Mordred was stunned enough, he reached into his inner world, and projected a drill-shaped bone sword into his hand. He notched it into his bow, stretching and thinning as it and the string was pulled back, aiming as prana surged into it and around him. After focusing as much as he could, he spoke its name.

"Caladbolg!"

Archer then fired the sword arrow, sending it through the trees at its target. And Mordred had finally recovered from the arrow onslaught, and with a growl, she charged forward to try and find Archer. However, she stopped when she saw something heading right for her, and her eyes widened upon seeing Caladbolg ripping through the air towards its target. She could tell it was dangerous. And powerful. And there was no time to dodge.

Mordred gritted her teeth, taking a step forward as if to challenge it head-on, and with a mighty roar, swung Clarent as hard as she could to strike from the side when close-

BOOOOOMMMM!

A massive explosion of prana erupted at that moment, razing nearly the entire forest they were occupied in glorious fashion. Archer observed this event from his highest branch, the explosion destroying practically all his cover but he didn't seem to mind much. After a few moments of silence, he spoke up.

"Amazing." Archer noted in an impressed tone. "To think she could manage to deflect Caladbolg and survive the blast. Then again, she is not the 'son' of Arturia Pendragon for nothing. Still, I am sure she has taken much damage from that. Now I need to take advantage and-"

Archer did not finish as Clarent suddenly shot through the air from below, striking his bow. It sliced right through it, cleaving it in two, and Archer was left stunned at this. So stunned that he barely registered Clarent also slicing across his shoulder and stuck into the tree behind him.

"Wha-?!"

That was all Archer got out before Mordred suddenly leaped through the air and actually headbutted him with the force of a missile. Archer's head shot back in pain and shock, sent off the branch, and Mordred simply grabbed Clarent as she was in the air, pulling it out of the tree as she fell down towards Archer. And with a mad look in her eye, she swung her sword down towards him, and Archer reacted instantly, projecting forth a massive, jagged stone blade of Greek origin to block it. However, it was simply shattered into pieces, and the Servant send down to the ground hard from the force, smoke pooling together as a result around him.

Archer groaned as he lied in the crater that his impact created until he slightly opened his eyes. And that caused him to instantly roll away, barely avoiding the sword skewering his heart as Clarent stabbed into the spot where he was. Archer jumped up to his feet, backing away as he stared at Mordred. The Knight of Treachery was kneeling down upon landing on the ground, holding her sword as it was in it, head held down. Many wounds graced her body as a result of tanking Caladbolg, parts of her armor falling off, but she didn't seem to notice.

"...You know, you can be a real jerk sometimes." Mordred stated strongly, standing up and pulling Clarent out of the ground. "Seriously, that's just like you. Making snide remarks just to anger your opponent. Even when you don't need to, just to do so for whatever reason. Even to the people who are with you. Why won't you let me know you? You're the only person I've ever want to truly know!"

"And you should never want to!" Archer frowned in frustration. "Why even care about me? I am just an Archer, an enemy in this Holy Grail War. For someone like you, I should be no different than the other Servants. Isn't that how it must be? Here I thought you of all people would embrace that fact in this moment."

Mordred remained silent at this, taking in these words for a few seconds before she answered. "You're right. If it were any other Servant, I'd kill them in a hearbeat. But you...you're different. After all the time we've spent together, because of the circumstances forced on us, they've allowed me to know you. And I'll admit, the way you are has intrigued me. I've never met anyone like you. Yet at the same time, I don't know you. You never told me anything, always talking around it. And I'll admit, that ticked me off. I can't stand it, especially with you. To have that effect on me, I can't just let it simmer! Not at all."

"...Then that time together was a mistake." Archer stated harshly. "You should have never known me. And I should have never known you."

"Oh, like you knew me at all!" Mordred bit back.

"Oh? I thought I had a pretty good grasp on you. You're not a difficult person to figure out." Archer noted with amusement.

"That's where you're wrong! You never tried to know me, Archer! You thought you did, but you only held back. Just like how you spoke half-truths about yourself, you never desired to know the truth about me. And that's a shame, because-" Mordred stopped for a second, flushing for a bit.

"Because what?" Archer asked impatiently.

"...Because I feel that we are connected." Mordred admitted, her face normally of pride softening for a second. "Because I am drawn to you. I can feel it, we are alike. More alike than I thought possible, but I don't know why. After everything I've been through, I never thought such a connection could exist. But it does with you, and I want to know why. I want to know why I feel that way, why I don't wish to kill you like the others. Why I feel like this. Am I simply imagining, or is it real? As the rightful King, I cannot let this linger for it will hinder me from my desire! So you will me who you are, Archer! Even if I have to beat it out of you at this point!"

Archer stared in surprise at Mordred's words, and suddenly, in Mordred's place existed a woman of the same face and size, the blonde hair tied into a bun. Her face was strong and focused, her blue armor shining in the distance. And he himself was now a young, red-haired boy of light-toned skin and yellow eyes, a will of steel in them, staring right at her. The two stared at each other, an understanding brimming between them. One where the two of them could connect in ways not thought possible.

Archer grimaced in pure regret and anger at that memory, and bitterly replied. "And here I thought you were above such a thing. But no, you are more like her than I thought. Why is fate cruel like that? Why does it hate me so much?"

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Mordred questioned.

"You can't understand me." Archer harshly stated, taking Mordred back. "No one can, not anymore. I am lost, forever unable to be saved, least of all by the likes of you! It is pure hubris for someone like you to think they can, especially when you are simply an angry little girl who couldn't hack being a King! You are the Knight of Treachery, a traitor! And as such, a traitor like you, one destined to betray, has no hope of understanding me! There is no connection between us, for we are nothing alike, Mordred! You are NOT Arturia! You never will be! And all your attempts at doing so through battle are for naught! You are but a foolish girl making connections where none exist because YOU WISH TO TRY AND MAKE UP FOR THE FACT THAT YOU COULDN'T BE WHO YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE! WE SHOULD HAVE NEVER KNOWN EACH OTHER, AND THAT IS THE TRUTH!"

Silence reigned amid the battle-worn field they were on, Archer glaring at Mordred after his outburst. He was full of many emotions: bitterness, anger, sorrow, hate, frustration, and a twinge of regret. Mordred's words, along with that brief memory, had stirred him too much, and he couldn't handle it. Mordred's eyes were shadowed by her hair, no movement from her body in response to

"...Is that how you feel?" Mordred's voice rang out, no emotion behind it. "Is that how you really feel? So be it. If that is what you wish for. But know this, for even after all of that, you still do not know me. You claim that I can't understand, but it is arrogance on your part to think when you assume without full knowledge. Therefore, I will let you see who I truly am. But not through words. No, there is only one way to show you."

Mordred then slowly raised Clarent up, holding it up in front of her as she took a stance. Then she suddenly shot her face up, her eyes blazing with anger and hate, taking back Archer immensely.

"And that is show you my most powerful Noble Phantasm!"

It was then then the bottom of the blade opened up, and suddenly the space around her and the sword itself began to have dark red blood form around her. It stained and enveloped the blade in the radiance of blood, violent sounds coming from it as the sword transformed. And Archer himself was astounded by what he saw, feeling the very air around him being stained with the smell of blood.

"What is this?!" Archer questioned. "The power...! This hatred I feel...!"

"See this, Archer?! This Noble Phantasm is the culmination of my inner feelings, of all the anger I feel, of all the hatred I have! It is the very essence of who I am, what has defined me and my legend for all of time! And it is all because of Arturia! You will feel the full-force of my hatred, and know who I am finally!" Mordred spat out angrily.

It was then that the blood began to turn Clarent, normally beautiful and pure, into something unsightly and demonic, twisting it with Mordred's hatred. It was no longer anything holy, but now something sinister and wicked, red lightning flickering off it and onto the surroundings. Archer gritted his teeth, knowing he was not in a good position now.

"This Noble Phantasm is not of the usual kind." Archer grimaced in thought as he felt the power grow more and more. "No, it is a dark and twisted Noble Phantasm, manifested mostly by her dark emotions, by her rage. And I can feel it. This is an Anti-Army Noble Phantasm, one that calls for blood now it itself has been called. Therefore, there is only one way I can defend against it."

Archer stood his ground, knowing Mordred wouldn't miss with this, staring down the very blood-stained blade that was warping the air, and simply held his hand up in front of him. Mordred, however, did not care, only baring a massive, feral-like grin as her eyes floated with rage and cruelty.

"I will say this, when I unleash this attack, it will only result in your death, Archer. For it killed my father, and therefore, I cannot allow it to fail in killing anyone else! This is what you wanted, you stated that we should never have known each other! Well I am about to grant your wish as best I can! So prepare to die!"

Mordred raised her curse-like blade upward, the blood staining it flowing upward and ripping through the air. While Archer still held his ground, arm outstretched as he remained calm and focus. The two stared at each other for but a brief second, until Archer chanted seven words, words that she did not register because of the hatred she was consumed with.

"I am the bone of my sword..."

"CLARENT..."

"RHO..."

"...BLOOD ARTHUR!"

"...AIAS!"

Mordred then swung her blade down, and when she did, it released the blood radiance of it in a massive wave of red lightning which destroyed all in its path. And at the same time, a shield in the form of a purple flower petal formed in front of Archer, with six more petals forming in front of it. And at that moment, the wave of red lightning crashed into the seven-petal shield, magical energy erupting from the collision. And for a brief moment, both were greeted to an amazing sight: the Rho Aias holding back the destructive blast of Clarent Blood Arthur, the blood red energy pushing against the purple petals to no avail.

But that was only for a brief second as the wave suddenly broke through the first of the petals, reaching the second one. But Archer did not waver, not even when the second one was destroyed, nor the third. Mordred was pushing as much as she can into this attack, growling as her Noble Phantasm tore through the fourth petal. Archer's sleeve was ripped apart as he tried his best to keep the Shield of No Loss up.

"Rho Aias deflected the blows from the hero of the Trojan War, yet it can't stand up to this?!" Archer thought as the fifth petal was destroyed, his arm now bleeding from keeping it up. "I can feel it...! Somehow I can! The hatred it bears, her hatred! So much of it, it shouldn't be possible! All directed towards one person, the person that she was destined to fight against! This hatred, this anger, this rage...! So much, so familiar...almost as much as my..."

It wasn't long before Clarent Blood Arthur had torn through the sixth petal, and was not bearing down on the seventh petal. Archer did everything he could to keep Rho Aias standing against this force, even as it was starting to crack against the power of Clarent Blood Arthur. The shield and blast struggled against each other, only one able to gain victory over the other, and in the final moments, a great cry roared from Archer as he put all his prana into the shield.

Then the blast of red lightning exploded, overtaking Archer and Rho Aias as it consumed the entire area around them. Nothing was left unscathed from the battle for the field, as even the remainder of the forest was destroyed. Eventually, the red light died down, the attack finally fading as smoke covered the area. Archer was nowhere to be found, and the only figure standing in the middle of the now barren wasteland was Mordred, sword still held down as her body was rooted to the spot.

"...Dammit." Mordred managed to get out, pain racking every point in her body. "I forgot how much it hurts when using that. It's been awhile since I used it until now. So much pain." Mordred then forced her body to move, ignoring the pain it's in as she stood up straight. "At least my Master is competent enough to make it so I can still move." She then grimaced in frustration. "...Dammit Archer. It didn't have to be this way. Not with you. Not after everything. Why did you want this so badly?"

Mordred stood in her spot, feeling the pain course through her but ignoring it as best as she can before she slowly turned away, and began her trek back to her Master to continue the-

"So that is who you are, Mordred?"

Mordred's head shot up in shock, as her head swerved around. That voice was unquestionable to her. Yet it was impossible, there was no he could have survived that!

"That is what makes you who you are? What defines Mordred?" The voice rang out in the area, Mordred's eyes widening with every syllable spoken. "I must admit, it somewhat surprised me. Yet you think this is enough to understand me? To justify your outlandish proclamations of there being a connection between us?"

"Archer...! Impossible! You should be dead! My sword demands it! Where are-?!" Mordred tried to question, pure anger raging through her at someone surviving Clarent Blood Arthur. She looked around as much as she could, but the smoke obscured her view.

"You want to know me? Who I really am that badly?" The voice questioned bitterly. "Is that what you want? You think you can understand me? ...Very well. I'll show you who I am, Mordred. And you'll realize the folly in such desires with me."

"What are you-"

"I am the bone of my sword"

Mordred froze in her spot as she heard the first line of the chant, the conviction in it startling her.

"Steel is my body, and fire is my blood"

Mordred kept swerving around, swinging her blade around to clear the smoke to no avail, wondering what this meant.

"I have created over a thousand blades"

Mordred eye's lit up at that, and looked down at her. Created over a thousand blades? But how-

"Unknown to Death, Nor known to Life"

Mordred stiffened at those words, and the weight behind them. That meant that all those blades, Archer himself, never knew either...

"Have withstood pain to create many weapons"

Massive pain was made aware to her once more with these words. And yet much pain did Archer endure throughout his life?

"Yet those hands will never hold anything"

And that line struck her hard, causing her to freeze in shock. Mordred then remembered her final moments, her blood-covered hands reaching out towards her father, but never able to touch her even once...

"So as I pray..."

The smoke finally began to clear up enough, snapping Mordred out of her thoughts. She then gazed upon the sight of Archer kneeling down on the ground on one knee, eyes closed as if in prayer. But before she could do anything...

"...UNLIMITED BLADE WORKS!"

The ground below them suddenly cracked and erupted, magical energy bursting forth from it. A ring of fire suddenly shot out from around Archer, consuming everything in its path, including Mordred. The Knight of Treachery was taken back, and closed her eyes as the fire enveloped her, waiting for the end.

...Except it never came. No pain was added to the amount already bursting through her body, and curious, she opened her eyes. Eyes which widened into immeasurable shock upon what she saw.

No longer was she in the razed field and forest in which they had battled in. It was replaced by a desert wasteland which seemed to stretch past the horizon, which was complimented by a reddish sky. The ground was dry, hard, and flat, no sign or hope of life anywhere as far as she could see. The sky itself was dotted with massive gears floating in the distance, turning as if powered by some unknown machine. But the most striking part were the swords. The thousands upon thousands of swords which occupied the wasteland, planted tip-first into the ground, numbers too great to count as they seemed to come from all places and ears in time.

"What is this place?" Mordred breathed, her awe and shock at this sight unable to be hidden.

"Welcome to my world."

Mordred instantly turned around to face the owner of that voice, and she was greeted by a sight that rocked her to her core. Archer standing before her, body covered in massive wounds all over from surviving Clarent Blood Arthur, bleeding all over, and his clothes tattered and torn apart at the seems. Blood dripped down his eye, but it did not bother him as he stared at Mordred. But what caught her eye was what he was standing on. A hill of swords, littered with more swords sticking into it then any other place of this world in sight. And what it caused her to remember practically tore through her very being.

"Welcome to Unlimited Blade Works." Archer greeted coolly. "My Reality Marble. It is my inner world, based on my memories, materialized and superimposed onto reality itself. In here, every weapon I have ever seen is copied and stored here. This is where I lived and died. This world is all I have left."

Archer's eyes bore into Mordred, for a brief second showing everything he felt, all the negative emotions that had built in him since he became a Guardian. The emotions that this world embodied.

"This is the world of Heroic Spirit EMIYA."

Archer's words broke the barrier for Mordred, as memories came flooding through her. The memory of a body-laden battlefield, with its most prominent feature being a hill of swords amid it all, the blood-soaked blades sticking it as two knights stood on top of it, creating their deaths on it. It was too much. Too much like that. Could Archer...?

"This...this is where you lived and died?" Mordred choked out, her emotions running rampant though she tried to keep them under control.

Archer simply remained silent at that question, instead replying with something else.

"This...is who I am, Mordred. My true nature. And it is in here where you will realize how futile it all is. For you, and for me."

Archer then raised his arm into the air, and as if by command, a massive amount of swords around him lifted off the ground and floated into the air above him. Mordred took a step back, watching as the deadly number of swords were high above him, and then suddenly pointed themselves at her menacingly. Mordred readied her blade on instinct, gritting her teeth as she knew what was about to come. The knight and guardian then looked at each other, a brief and silent stand-off occurring between them. Words unspoken were shared between them with just that one look.

And then he threw his arm down.

The blades then shot down from the sky and right towards Mordred, looking almost like raining death with the number of them in the air. Mordred, pushing through the pain racking her body, roared out and begin swinging as fast as she possibly could, destroying any sword that came down near her as it rained. She used her superior speed to maneuver through the hail-fire, Clarent just a blur as metal shards began to litter the wasteland. However, one could only defend against such a rain of swords for so long, and that was the case as two weapons managed to break through her defense and bury them into her left shoulder and right leg, piercing right through her armor.

Mordred cried out in pain as she was sent backing up from being skewered like that, but she ended up ignoring it, grabbing the swords and pulling them out of her body forcefully, blood dripping out greatly. However, more swords simply ripped out of the ground around her and flew right towards her. Mordred employed the skills that made her so deadly, jumping and dodging every blade that came at her, crashing her own blade against them to send the pieces scattering about. Yet, they still came. From above. From the side. From even the ground. They came all over. And the pain she was enduring from using Clarent Blood Arthur only served to slow her down.

And that was the case as she took a step too late to the right, and a blade pierced her left leg from behind. Mordred gasped in shock and pain, but gritting her teeth, she continued to swing her sword relentlessly to knock away the onslaught of swords. But only for a few seconds, as another sword dug it self into her side, staggering her back a bit. Mordred was in massive pain now, but she tried to push past it, to keep moving as she took a step forward but only for a second as she managed to catch a glimpse of a flurry of swords coming down on her from right above.

The swords crashed down on her, creating a gathering of smoke upon impact. One which Mordred jumped out of, having barely avoided the swords skewering her all over. Landing on the ground, she winced, the battle taking her toll. However, all she got in the next second was a fist to the face, courtesy of Archer who had shot through the smoke and delivered it then and there. Mordred was sent barreling to the ground, sprawled out across it in pain, but she still tried to get up, and that only served to anger Archer, who was already plenty angry.

"Why? Why do you continue to still fight?!" Archer questioned angrily, projecting Kanshou and Bakuya and made his way towards Mordred who had stood groggily, swords still sticking in her. "Don't you see it's all pointless?! Why you fight me, your meaningless efforts at trying to connect with me, trying to treat me as a King would to their knight, this world should show you the truth about all of it! See it! This world was MY REWARD!"

Archer then began swinging his blades angrily at Mordred, every swipe with the force of an explosion behind them. Mordred could barely keep up with blocking them at this point, her body starting to fail on her as Archer began to rant.

"This was where I ended up, Mordred! For everything I ever did in my life!" Archer ranted angrily, bitterness and hatred running deep through him. "All I wanted was to be a Hero of Justice!" Clang. "All I wanted was to live up to an ideal!" Clang. "The only thing I ever wanted was a world where no one would cry!" Clang. "One where I could make everyone happy!" Clang. "But such ideals are foolish, they are impossible, they only lead to your demise!" Clang. "It wasn't even my ideal, it was one I borrowed from someone!" Clang. "I, who desperately wanted to be that hero at any costs, couldn't do anything!" Clang. Clang. "In my desperation, I allied with a deterrent force, hoping for power!" Clang. Clang. Clang. "But in the end, all that happened was me being framed, and gaining a noose and a drop as a result!" Clang. Clang. Clang. Clang. "What kind of end is that?!"

Mordred had been forced to listened to Archer's rant, the very spilling of his past and who he was, all while barely defending against his assault. She could feel it now. Every strike. Every swing. Every blow. The weight he had on him. The very hate he felt. The bitterness over his end. It was all there for her to feel, to weigh her down under it. Eventually, Archer pushed Clarent away and kicked Mordred away as hard as she could, sending her across the ground. She then pushed herself up once more, all while Archer advanced on her.

"Still, I foolishly didn't feel any anger over it!" Archer cried out, face contorting with every word spoken. "Because I never wanted their gratitude! That was never my goal! Only a world where no one would cry! If I made others happy, then I myself would be happy! Which is why I traded my afterlife for another! To become a Guardian, so that I could save as many people as I could! ...BUT THAT WAS JUST A LIE!"

Mordred managed to get up just in time to block a massive double swing from Archer, which nearly sent her tumbling back as a result from the force of it. Mordred gritted her teeth as she tried to counterattack, but Archer refused to allow her any such opening right now.

"I found out how much of a lie that was! Guardians don't protect humanity, we only clean up the messes they make!" Archer raged, his swings becoming the very embodiment of his anger. "We only intervene after they have brought the world to the brink! And we do not save anyone! We only kill everyone that threatens humanity! Every last one! Meaningless suffering, meaningless death, meaningless lives! I saw it all, even when I turned away! I killed..." CLANG. "...and killed..." CLANG. "...and killed!" CLANG. "Again..." CLANG. CLANG. "...and again..." CLANG. CLANG. "...AND AGAIN!" CLANG. CLANG. CLANG. "I killed and killed until I didn't care anymore, becoming nothing more than a machine to be used time and again! In my efforts to save everyone, I ended up saving no one! That wasn't what I wanted! That's not what I became a Guardian for! If that is the fate of the foolish boy..." Archer raised his swords. "...then he should have NEVER existed in the first place!"

Archer brought down Kanshou and Bakuya as hard as he could down, breaking through Mordred's defense and slicing her sides. Mordred coughed blood as she was sent back once more down onto the ground, her blood staining the wasteland. However, Mordred was defiant, gritting her teeth in a scowl as she tried to get up once more, all while Archer glared at her.

"In the end, I was betrayed by everything around me until in the end, I was betrayed by even the very ideal I held sacred." Archer announced with a bitter grimace. "Therefore, how could the Knight of Treachery understand me? You only know how to betray. You do not know what it's like to be betrayed. You are the farthest thing from me, and always will be. And thinking of me otherwise...is the height of hubris! Pure arrogance on your part! You'd do better to just skewer me with your sword than try such nonsense! You have only yourself to blame for where you are now!"

Mordred stood up, using her sword to keep her upright as she panted, pain pouring through her being as she looks up at Archer. The two stared at each other for but a few seconds, but it was enough. The Counter Guardian simply closed his eyes and raised his hand, instantly projecting numerous swords around them in the air.

"This is my fate, the fate I hate so much. And there is nothing you can do to change that for me."

And before Mordred could even react, the blades fired right at her at blinding speeds, and they struck her full-force.

Archer just gazed emotionlessly at the sight before him, the one he created. Mordred now laid on the ground, her body strewn about as swords were embedded in her. Her arms. Her legs. Her thighs. Her shoulders. Her sides. There were swords all over her. And she just laid there unmoving as her blood stained the wasteland. Archer felt a twinge at his cold heart, but he ignored it as he continued to look.

"Farewell, Mordred. Wherever you end up, may you regret the day you met me."

Archer then turned around, and walked up his hill of swords, preparing to dispel his Reality Marble.

But then he stopped. Why?

...Because he heard a chuckle. A female chuckle.

"Now I see why..."

Archer whipped around, eyes wide in shock at what he just heard. He was not just hearing the chuckle, but now seeing it as Mordred did just that from her position. And then slowly but surely, she actually managed to sit up, swords in her and all. Archer was dumbstruck as he watched Mordred, despite the pain she was obviously in, stand up slowly but surely.

"No! Impossible! I skewered you...from all sides. You should be dead, let alone moving. How are you even standing?!" Archer questioned, shocked and even angry at this sight.

"Hehehehe, don't you know me?" Mordred asked as she stood up, body hunched over before before she grabbed a sword in her side. "It takes more than this to kill me!" She then pulled the sword out, stifling through the pain that came with it, before grabbing another. "But at the least...I understand now."

"Understand?!" Arched narrowed his eyes as Mordred pulled another blade out of her leg, ignoring the hole in it.

"Yeah, understand. Why I felt so connected with you." Mordred gritted her teeth as the sword in her arm was ripped out hard. One by one, she pulled the blades out of her body, blood dripping down out of every wound. "Why I was drawn to you, and why I cared so much with you. You're right, you should've been another enemy to me. Someone else to slain while I claimed the wish I desired. But you weren't...why? Now, after hearing you, after seeing this world, I finally know. I realize this..."

Mordred eventually pulled the last sword out of her right side and threw it to the ground, swords littering the area around her. Her armor was almost non-existent at this point, filled with so many holes and wounds, it barely held together against her petite body. Her head was held down, body panting and heaving lightly.

Until she looked up. And it was revealed that her ponytail had broken, leaving her hair to fall to her shoulders, all while bearing a grin on her face, fangs shown. And in that instant, Archer flashed back to the girl from his vision earlier, and the feelings it brought.

"I really like you, Archer." She proclaimed with no shame whatsoever.

Archer was completely taken back, not just by the visage of Mordred and the memories it brought up, but the very proclamation and what it meant.

"W-W-WHAT?!" Archer managed to blurt out, unable to help the heat in his face. "What do you mean by that?!

"It means exactly what it means. I like you. I really do. A lot." Mordred chuckled. "And I know why. See, you're right. There are some parts of your life I can't understand. Certainly not these ideals you held. And I doubt you could understand my exact feelings towards my father. It's just how it is, with you being you, and me being me. We're practically opposites in a sense. Yet, we're more alike than I ever thought possible. Tell me, you think I wanted the throne when I rebelled, didn't you? That that was always my driving force?"

"Why else would you rebel?" Archer stated harshly. "It is your legend, Mordred. You led a rebellion against the father you hated and envied to take the throne from her by force. To try and prove yourself superior to Arturia. That's who you are."

"No, it's not." Mordred breathed out. "See? In all actuality...I never wanted the throne. Not really. At least, not as my Mother wanted me to. No, all I wanted...what I still want to this day...is my father's acknowledgement."

Archer's eyes widened in shock but Mordred continued. "No matter what Mother, Morgan Le Fay, did or told me, I couldn't help but adore her. To admire my beautiful father. She was the only one I never disliked, the perfect King, and to be her child... I was content to be in her shadow, always, for being her 'son' meant the world to me. I never had a father growing up, so she was everything to me, everything I wanted to be. I never wanted to rebel, not really." Mordred looked up in the sky, no longer hard or prideful, but of sad reminiscence.

"But in the end, she just rejected me." Mordred clenched her fists. "I loved her as much as I could, I gave my heart to her, and she coldly rejected me and my right to the throne. Even to the bitter end, she continued to deny me, never once acknowledging me as her own. As her heir, as her 'son.' Because of who I was, and what she thought I couldn't be. And that hurt me more than you can imagine. It turned my love...into hatred." Her face contorted at those words. "Just like how your passion for your ideals twisted into hatred, she twisted everything I felt about her into hatred as well. Everything I cherished, everything I cared for, all my love, it turned against me. I became exactly what Mother wanted me to be against her."

Archer stood in shock at what he was hearing, and how it was connecting with him as Mordred continued. "You and me, we never wanted these horrible events that came about. You just wanted to be a Hero of Justice, and I just wanted my father to accept me. But we were denied those desires, those dreams, and became something else entirely. Against what we once cherished. Pushed towards those events to try and make them come true. And yet, despite how much I hate my father, how much I know I'm right to...I still can't help but love her at the same time. Adore her, admire her. I'm consumed by that contradiction. And I can tell. You are too with the ideals you held and the foolish boy you once were. Am I right, Archer?"

Archer did not expect that phrase at all, and it struck him hard. Because it pulled at feelings long thought dormant. "What?! ...NO! You are wrong! Those ideals are nothing but a curse, one that dragged me here!" Archer denied as much as he could, trying to ignore it. "I am not consumed by such contradictions! That boy is-"

"I died in a place like this." Mordred suddenly spoke out, interrupting Archer. "Like you. I died on a hill of swords, in a wasteland like this. Against my own father. My own reward for the fate I was dealt. I became what was wanted of me, the villain that tarnished her father's legend. Always to be evil, her side never understood. That was what history wanted me to be. This is my fate, the fate I hate so much. And it is one I can never escape." Mordred echoed Archer's words from earlier. "Still, despite all my hatred, despite all my pain, everything I was denied..."

Mordred looked up, and that same toothy grin appeared on her face, not hiding a single thing. "I'm glad to have met you. Because for the first time ever, I don't feel alone anymore. You're the first person I can truly trust. And that makes it all a bit worth it. Like I said, I like you, Archer. Almost too much right now. You intrigue me, I like the way you do things, and it doesn't hurt that you're good-looking either. Yes, this is nice. We are alike, to the point where I wish you would be my knight. Heh, thanks for everything, Archer."

Mordred's eyes then softened in a way unlike her as she stared at Archer, who could not believe anything he was hearing. This was not the Mordred he was expecting at all. Not with the way those eyes were looking at him now. They shouldn't be looking at him like that. Not with him. Archer held his head, as memories flashed through him. Memories of that young red-haired boy holding the girl that looked like Mordred in the moonlight. And it stirred feelings within him. Too many. For with an eye closed, he glared at Mordred.

"...Go to hell!"

These were Archer's words, trying to stifle what was in him, as he threw out his arm and instantly projected more blades which fired right towards Mordred. Mordred watched as the swords came down upon her, and she couldn't help but chuckle.

"Heh, stubborn to the end. I can't blame you though. Alright, I can work with this. After all, this event is the only thing fate let us know and be good at." Mordred stated, her grin widening. "So I'm gonna show you what I feel, show your our connection through battle! Get ready, Archer!"

This was Mordred's proclamation as the first blade came towards her, and she actually broke it with a swing of Clarent. With a mad, feral grin, she then swung again, destroying the second sword. And as she did, she grabbed a sword out of the ground next to her, and charged forward into the storm of swords. Using her Prana Burst, she focused it into her arms, and began to swing at speeds unimaginable with both blades in her hands, any sword coming in front of her being completely destroyed by her. Archer couldn't believe his eyes, that despite all the wounds Mordred suffered, all the pain she was in, she was somehow doing this. He was starting to wonder what was she exactly.

Archer gritted his teeth in frustration before projecting four massive blades around him, ones that could be wielded by a giant before firing them like torpedoes. Mordred saw the massive blades coming and just grinned in excitement. For then she dodged the first one, then used Prana Burst to kick another off-course, and then ducked the final two, digging her blades into the very centers of the blades as they passed her, and they cracked into pieces once they passed. Discarding her now broken sword, she made a mad charge towards Archer up the hill of swords.

Archer was in disbelief. What was pushing her right now? What was making her so defiant? But as he saw Mordred closing in, he knew he had no time to think. He had to act or die!

"Trace: Overedge!"

These were the words he spoke as he held out his hands, and projected Kanshou and Bakuya, which then suddenly lengthened into longswords of a feathered design, somehow feeling like they've gain more power behind them. And just in time as he brought the blades up to block Clarent in time, the two warriors staring each other down on top of the hill. One of an excited, almost crazed grin. The other of a hard, focused grimace.

It was then that the two broke away and began to clash. The sound of their blades clashing rang throughout all of Unlimited Blade Works, their movements too fast for the eye to see. All that could be seen were blurs. The colors of black, white, and silver as they swung through the air repeatedly. And the sparks that erupted every time their blades clashed. It would've been an awe-inspiring sight if anyone else was watching this fight before their eyes.

Eventually, the speed blitz ended as Mordred jumped up from the exchange and spun, bringing her blade down as she did so on Archer. The Counter Guardian brought up his Overedges to block the blow, keeping Clarent at bay. He looked at Mordred as she was hung in the air, arm outstretched holding her sword. Her grin never left her face, enjoying every second of this. Not only that, but there was that look in her eyes again. The way she looked at him, and what it told.

"Stop looking me at like that! Like you truly understand me! Like you actually feel...!" Archer thought in both anger and pain. For the feeling in his chest grew every time he looked into her eyes. "Stop it! It can't be true! Not for me! I cannot be saved, not by anyone! Stop looking at me! STOP REMINDING ME!"

Archer knocked Clarent away in response to his thoughts, and then swung both blades at Mordred. They were blocked as Mordred was sent flying to the ground, landing easily on her feet. She charged right after that, slashing right for Archer as she did so, but the Counter Guardian managed to dodge to the right. He then used the opportunity to lunge for Mordred with Kanshou, but the knight managed to block it, using her sword to allow it to scrape against it harmlessly, allowing her close proximity with Archer.

"Not bad, Archer. You are truly skilled. A knight worthy of a king. If I had you back then, maybe things wouldn't have turned out so bad. At least I would have had someone I fully trusted." Mordred said with no qualms whatsoever.

Archer stiffened in shock, lightly flushing from the close contact and not expecting those words at all. It stirred his chest even more, pushing emotions through his body he thought were long dead.

"S-Shut up!" Archer cried out as he swung for the head with Bakuya.

Mordred easily ducked the blow, spinning around Archer and swiping Clarent towards him from the side. He brought up Kanshou to block, and winced as it did. Not out of pain, but because every blow exchanged was doing something to him. As if he could feel the blade, feel Mordred's emotions, and how they resonated with his own. It was too close. Too close to the heart. Too much like the life he had before.

And he didn't know how to handle that anymore.

With a great cry, Archer pushed Clarent away and swung both of his swords down onto Mordred, who used Clarent to block. However, Archer would not be denied as he continued to push down on Clarent, sending Mordred to a knee as they struggled with each other.

"Why are you so defiant? Why do you deny it? You can feel it, I know you can!" Mordred gritted her teeth.

"Because it can't be true! Such hopes for me died a long time ago! And they should have died for you as well!" Archer proclaimed in frustration. "We were forever denied such things the moment we were cursed to these fates! So stop looking at me like that! I can't stand it! I can't take it!"

"Maybe so, but that doesn't matter to me. At least not in this moment." Mordred managed to chuckled. "Because honestly, I'm tired of letting that fate being the only thing for me. I'm tired of hating. For once, I just want to love and be happy. And with you, even if it's just for one moment, I think I can have that. Is that so wrong to want?"

Archer was gut-punched at those words, for once, not knowing how to respond. The desires and emotions in him had now built up to a boiling point, and were ready to burst. He just stared down at Mordred, so much running through him, unable to clarify what exactly he wanted to think.

And that was when Mordred pushed Kanshou and Bakuya away and kicked Archer in the gut hard, stunning him to allow her to try and swing her blade down at him. However, suddenly swords rained down from above on both of them to stop the attack, burying themselves into the hill. Both of them managed to avoid the swords, backing away from each other on opposite sides of the hill. The two landed on their feet, and then looked upon each other once more.

Both of their bodies were ravaged, bleeding, and practically at their limit. The pain they were both in was massive. This was the result of their fight, the result of their hated fates clashing with each other. For a brief second, there was no sound, not even the sound of a sword moving, just pure silence as their eyes locked.

"Happiness?" Archer spoke up bitterly out of nowhere. "What makes you think we deserve happiness? After everything we've done, all the mistakes we made, the hatred we are bounded to. Why should we be happy? Can we even be happy?"

"I don't know if we deserve it, and I don't care if we do." Mordred spoke bluntly. "I want to be happy, even if it's only for one moment. And I can see in your eyes you do too. And if we achieve that, then I think we've managed to defy our fates. And after all this time...I want to be happy with you."

Archer took those words in silently, pondering them as for once, he was actually considering the worth of them. But that stopped as soon as he saw Mordred raising up Clarent and taking a stance, and Archer's eyes widened upon remembrance.

"You say you can copy any blade, right? Any blade?" Mordred asked with a hard look. "Can you also copy a blade's abilities and use them?"

"Why do you-" Archer was about to ask but then it hit him, and his eyes shook at what Mordred was implying. "...Yes. I can." Archer took a deep swallow. "I can copy almost any blade, and the skills of the person with it. I can even use the techniques that go along with the blade, especially if they are a Noble Phantasm. But my prana is not limitless, and if I use it, my prana will-"

"Yes, I figured as much." Mordred chuckled humorlessly. "Even with my hate twisting the sword into something demonic, using it would be a death sentence. But I've never used it twice in one battle before. It always uses all of my energy, creating massive pain in me. It hurts so much. If I use it, a good chance I may die as well."

"Mordred! Why are you-" Archer wanted to finish, but Mordred cut him off.

"Because we both don't have much longer. And I don't leave any battle unresolved. That is not befitting a King." Mordred gave a toothy grin. "I am ready for my end! I do not fear it! Besides, I want you to use it because if you do, maybe through our hatred, you can finally connect with me. So what do you say, Archer? One last moment? For people like us?"

Archer took in this request from Mordred, silently pondering what she wanted. Mordred waited for Archer's response, ready to react in any way. No matter what, her pride as a knight and warrior refused to allow her to just drop this battle. This would end one way or another. Several seconds passed, but then something struck the ground. It was the Overedge forms of Kanshou and Bakuya, Archer dropping them so they stuck into the wasteland. And after that, two words were uttered. Words which spoke of Archer's decision.

"Trace on."

Magical energy then seeped out of his hands like lightning, and began to take form. It didn't take long for it to materialize, and eventually, Archer held in his hands a copy of Clarent in his hands. He could feel the hatred in this sword brimming out of it, and he could feel what using this sword would do to him. But he had made up his mind. He raised the blade, and took the same stance as Mordred, who grinned in turn.

"Good. Very good. That's what I like to see." Mordred approved.

"I'm only doing this because in the end, I don't have a goal. The only one I have, I cannot reach now." Archer grimly replied.

"Maybe so, but I'm glad either way. For as the future King, you are the only person I trust to head towards this with." Mordred proclaimed. "And by you accepting my request, you feel the same way about me."

Archer remained silent for a second. "...Maybe. Who can say? But I can say for certain, Mordred...it's that now...I don't regret meeting you. Not one bit. In fact, I think I'm better off for it now."

"Then as future King, I order that we end this, Archer. For good." Mordred announced.

With that, no more words were exchanged. The two began their final attacks, the familiar blood swirling around their Clarent blades and the area around them, transforming their blades with their hate.

Mordred pooled all of her hate for her father into her Clarent, twisting and deforming it, but for once, it was not to simply destroy the opponent. It wasn't even about adding to the hate she already. It was about using it to connect with the one person that she had come to trust and understand. To show the true heart of her hatred to him and bring them even closer. She wanted that more than anything else at this moment.

Archer could feel his own hate fueling the attack he was about to unleash, the hate he had for himself and the ideals he once treasured. It was almost scary how easily the attack was fueled his hatred in place of Mordred's. Yet, he could feel Mordred's own hatred first-hand through tracing as he charged the attack, and it was shocking how much the hate mirrored his own. And yet, it comforted him to know that he was not alone in this. To know that, it blossomed the feeling in his chest even more.

After the blades had transformed, and the wasteland was now stained with all the blood used to transform, they slowly raised them. The Clarents were raised high above their heads, the attacks fully charged with their respective hatred dripping off the swords. And then words began to spill from their mouths.

"CLARENT..."

"CLARENT..."

The two stared at each other for the briefest of seconds, yet it seemed to stretch for an eternity. Unspoken words passed between them, a flicker of understanding and feelings passing in that second.

And then time moved again.

"...BLOOD ARTHUUUURRRRRR!"

The two cried out at the same time, bringing their blades down, and sending their massive waves of red lightning towards each other. They tore through the world of Unlimited Blade works until they clashed at the hill of swords. The destruction caused by the meeting of the Noble Phantasms was massive, swords being ripped from the ground as it was being consumed by all the energy. Archer and Mordred put every last bit of prana they had in them into this attack, pushing against each other, until they gave out massive war cries in their final bursts.

And then an explosion of red blood and lightning engulfed the entirety of the Reality Marble, the Noble Phantasms finally collapsing against each other. The radiance of the blood was all that could be seen if anyone else was in that world.

Eventually, the explosion of red lightning subsided, and it revealed that the world of Unlimited Blade Works was no more. The area had returned to the razed forest and broken battlefield. And to the two warriors that had put their all into those attacks.

Who both had swords sticking through their chests. Archer with a sword of pure silver through him. Mordred with dual black and white through her. A final charge with the last bits of their energy in the wake of their final attacks. Magical wisps of energy began to float off of them, their bodies beginning to fade away.

"...So this is the end for us, huh?" Archer noted as blood dripping down his mouth.

"Yes, it appears so. One which we both anticipated." Mordred replied evenly, coughing out some blood.

"Not a surprise really. After all, this is what we are always fated to end at. To die on a hill of swords, surrounded by nothing but blood and battle." Archer pointed out grimly.

"Indeed. This is what fate intends for us. A foolish Guardian who can only kill but never save, and a 'son' that wants to be loved, but will only rebel. Still, I don't mind this end. Not at all." Mordred admitted.

"Why?" Archer questioned, curious.

"Because..." Mordred raised a free hand and cupped Archer's cheek with it, slightly raising it so she can look at him. And she then did something that shocked, yet warmed his cold heart.

A smile. A true genuine smile on her face. "...I'm spending this end with you. And that's good enough for me after everything. It even makes the fate I was dealt bearable."

Archer simply said no words, simply staring down at Mordred, no anger in his eyes. Only softness and emotion in them for once. His white hair was no longer slicked-back, but now down his head, resembling more of the boy he once was.

"You know you look better with your hair like that." Mordred coughed out some more blood, but still smiled. "You should keep it like that."

"...Maybe I will." Archer responded, keeping his gaze on Mordred. "And I'll admit, you don't look so bad yourself with your own hair let down like that."

"That so? Well maybe I'll leave it down a bit more next time." Mordred chuckled.

Silence once again reigned between them, the lower part of their bodies slowly staring to fade away. It was almost the end for them. They were about to pass from this world. But not in hate. No, in peace. With each other.

"We're a sorry pair of individuals, aren't we?" Archer observed with amusement in his eyes. "Two beings that can't be saved, that can never be more than what we are. Still, I can take solace in one thing."

"Oh? And tell me, what is that, my dear Archer?" Morder gave a wry grin in return.

"...That I found someone to be with, even if only for a few seconds." Archer smiled warmly as he leaned down towards Mordred. "She may be a handful, too prideful for her own good, but there are a few qualities she has. Here and there."

Mordred chuckled. "Oh yeah, next time we meet, I will make you my Knight...count on it."

And those were the last words spoken before Archer and Mordred's lips met, the gap closed as they savored the taste of each other. Enjoying each other's warmth, and the understanding they thought could not be had with them. And they remained in that kiss as if it was eternal to the very end as their bodies faded away, the magical wisps floating into the sky.

They truly did have hated fates. But in the end, they were able to share their burdens for just a moment.

And that was enough for a failed Hero of Justice and a rejected Heir to the King.

A/N: And there is my experimental one-shot, Their Hated Fates. This came out longer than expected, and some parts were hard to write, but I'm proud of my work.

I'm usually an Archer/Saber fan, but I'm also aware that Shirou/Saber is the more popular pairing, and that in a way, Archer can no longer have Saber if you look at it in a certain way. But I don't buy Rin/Archer, yet Archer deserved something. Then I read a fanfic called Clarent Blood Arthur after getting into Fate/Apocrypha, and this pairing came to me. If Archer can't be with Saber, then why not Mordred? Because if his feelings and understanding of Arturia was when he was young and idealistic, then the same applies to Mordred when he's old and full of hate.

I was surprised by the amount of similarities that he and Mordred had when you look at them, but I was pulled in by those similarities, and became a fan of this pairing. I'm probably the only fan of Archer/Mordred, and this is the first fanfic of it's kind. But I believe it has potential. This story went through several different designs, until I settled on a one-shot and a battle. Because both Archer and Mordred are defined by battle and what it has done to them in life, so best way to have them communicate with each other.

If anyone has any gripes about certain aspects of the battle, know that everything in the battle happened for a reason, and I tried to keep it all within the realm of possibilties as I kept to my story. And if you wonder about why they already know each other, and where their Masters are, some parts of this fic are meant to be ambiguous and left to the imagination. The focus is on Archer and Mordred. It's not the most romantic, but with these two, it wasn't supposed to be. I also hope I portrayed Mordred and Archer right, as I was iffy on them at times, but what can you do with fanfiction?

I hope you all enjoyed this one-shot, as I worked extremely hard on it. Hopefully, it's the start of something new. Make sure to review everyone. Thank you for reading!

ForceWalker out!

EDIT: A lot of time has passed, and this story has become quite popular in such a short time hasn't it? So much love for what can be considered a "crack pairing" fic, but I am glad that it has taken off like it did. You have all made me very happy. Originally, this was going to be a simple one-shot, no continuation or anything as I felt it didn't need that, but after seeing all the requests and desires, and no one else producing Archer/Mordred fics, I've contemplated.

I am considering a possible sequel, companion piece, or second chapter to Their Hated Fates. At this point, I am just considering, as I have no idea what it would entail and continue off of from this ending. If any of you have ideas, feel free to let me know, and I can consider them because I need the ideas. If I get any good ones, this will get a sequel or update.

The poll is closed, and I have my answer on what you want, but I'll see if I can muster up the inspiration. I have also edited the Clarent Blood Arthur clash as Clarent is not a Divine Construct, and would copied fully, but the usage of it would likely drain Archer of all his prana at that point. I hope you enjoyed this. Catch you all later.