Unknownfate
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Chapter 39
🕑 Added 2025-03-29 00:29:58 +0000 UTCKay grinned, drawing his sword once more. “That’s the spirit. Let’s show these cowards what true strength looks like.”
Ector turned, his shield raised as he began moving forward. “Stay close, and trust in our king’s will. This place will fall, and you will walk out free.”
The group moved as one, the widows flanking the knights as they advanced deeper into the compound. Above, in the command center, Petrovich watched the feed in horror.
“They’re… allying with them,” he muttered, his face pale. “The widows are turning.”
Melina, her voice cold and resigned, replied, “They see what we feared they would—hope. And hope is dangerous.”
Petrovich slammed his fist onto the console. “Not if we end it here. Throw everything we have at them, I need to talk to the General.” He said, walking to a side room.
The clang of boots against steel echoed through the darkened halls as the widows and knights moved together. The widows, lithe and calculated, mirrored the heavy, commanding strides of the knights.
Ahead, the guards had formed defensive lines, automatic weapons trained on the approaching force.
Yelena gestured to the widows, her voice sharp and clear. “Spread out! Use the cover. We’re easy targets.”
Ector raised his shield, its golden glow illuminating the corridor. “Follow my lead!” He charged forward, deflecting a hail of bullets as the widows darted to the flanks.
Kay dashed to the front, his sword blazing with light. “Don’t fall behind, ladies!” He slashed through the barricades with one mighty swing, sending splinters and debris flying.
The guards’ discipline began to crumble as the two knights carved through their ranks with ease. Meanwhile, the widows moved like shadows, dispatching enemies with precision.
A widow slid under a guard’s legs, stabbing upward with her blade, while another flipped over cover, taking out two guards with synchronized shots.
Ector shielded two younger widows as they moved forward, his glowing barrier absorbing incoming fire. “Press on! Their lines are breaking!”
A grenade arced toward the group. Yelena spotted it mid-air, kicking it back toward the guards with flawless precision. The resulting explosion sent a wave of panic through the defenders.
Kay roared, his sword cleaving through a reinforced steel door like butter. “Onward! Their defenses are nothing against us!”
The group surged forward, the sound of their advance a mix of gunfire, swords striking metal, and the occasional cry of a defeated guard. The deeper they went, the more resistance they faced, but the knights and widows adapted quickly.
A guard wielding a flamethrower stepped into the corridor, unleashing a torrent of fire. Kay grinned, stepping in front of the group. “You think flames scare me?” He raised his sword, channeling the heat into his blade, which glowed even brighter. In a flash, he dashed forward, slicing the flamethrower in two before cutting the guard down.
In another hallway, Yelena and two widows cornered a group of guards. With synchronized movements, they disarmed and subdued them. Yelena turned to her team, her voice steady. “No hesitation. We don’t stop until this place is rubble.”
Deeper in the facility, screams of terror from guards echoed as Ector’s shield rammed through another door. Beyond it lay a room filled with young girls, all wide-eyed and trembling. Some clung to each other, their faces pale with fear.
Yelena stepped forward, her voice softer now. “It’s okay. You’re safe.” She knelt down, meeting the eyes of a girl no older than ten. “We’re here to take you somewhere better.”
The girls hesitated, their trust eroded by years of manipulation. Kay stepped beside Yelena, his massive frame imposing yet his voice kind. “We’re knights. Protecting the innocent is our duty. No harm will come to you.”
Slowly, the girls began to move, stepping out from their corners and shadows. Ector raised his shield, creating a glowing barrier around the group. “Stay within the light. It will protect you.”
The knights and widows formed a protective formation around the children, advancing through the final corridors. More guards tried to block their path, but they fell swiftly to the combined force.
As the group reached the surface, explosions rang out behind them. Kay smirked, glancing back at the flames. “I think that’s enough destruction for one day.”
Yelena nodded, her expression grim yet resolute. “This isn’t the end, but it’s a start.”
The group emerged into the cold, snowy wilderness, the first rays of dawn breaking on the horizon. For the widows and the rescued girls, it was their first taste of freedom.
“So, I kinda got caught up in the action before.” Yelena started, “But who are you two?”
Kay chuckled, his sword resting on his shoulder as he surveyed the horizon. “A fair question, considering we just tore through a fortress together.”
Ector nodded, his shield still glowing faintly as he turned to face Yelena. “I am Sir Ector, steward of Camelot. And this is Sir Kay, my companion and one of the Round Table’s finest knights.”
Yelena and the other widows instantly looked shocked, then confused, not because they hadn’t heard about Camelot, they had, and that was why they were so surprised now.
Because why hadn’t they been able to connect the dots before now? When mysterious knights show up, then that should immediately get one to think of Camelot, yet none a single time had that crossed their minds!
Yelena furrowed her brow, her confusion evident. “Wait a minute… Camelot? The knights of the Round Table? How did I not think of that before?”
Ector answered her with a gentle smile. “That would be me. My Noble Phantasm protects, nurtures, and hides one’s true identity, so that was why you didn’t realize who we were.”
One of the younger widows, barely past her teenage years, hesitantly stepped forward, her voice quiet but curious. “What’s… what’s a Noble Phantasm?”
Kay glanced at Ector with a smirk before turning to the girl. “It's very powerful magic, little lady, the kind that can turn the tides of battle.”
One of the older widows, her arms crossed, raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “So, wait… magic is real?” she asked, her tone dripping with skepticism.
Kay let out a hearty laugh, his sword resting on his shoulder. “Oh, it’s very real. And you’ve just seen it in action. Or do you think deflecting bullets with a sword and smashing walls with a shield is something anyone can do?”
The younger widow who had asked about the Noble Phantasm looked wide-eyed, her voice a whisper. “I thought it was just… tricks or tech. But magic?”
Ector’s calm voice cut through the chatter. “The world is far larger than what you’ve been taught. Magic, legends, and the unseen—these things have always been real. It’s just that most choose not to believe until it stands before them.”
Yelena shook her head, exhaling sharply. “First knights out of a storybook, now magic. What’s next, dragons?”
Kay’s grin widened. Yet before he was able to open his mouth, Ector smacked the top of his head. “There are no dragons left in the world. Don’t worry about running into something like that.”
Yelena arched an eyebrow at the exchange, clearly unconvinced. “No dragons, huh? Somehow, that’s the least surprising thing I’ve heard today.”
The younger widow, still wide-eyed, tentatively asked, “But… if all of this is real, and you’re really from Camelot, why are you here? Why help us?”
Ector straightened, his shield faintly glowing as he spoke. “Because no one should endure what you’ve been through. Our king sent us to bring justice to places like this and to offer you a place in his service.”
The widows exchanged uneasy glances, their initial intrigue giving way to wariness. The older widow stepped forward, her arms crossed tightly. “So that’s it, then? Your king wants us to serve them? After everything we’ve been through, you’re just offering a different master?”
Yelena’s expression hardened. “We’ve had our lives stolen from us, turned into tools. And now you show up with promises of salvation, but only if we kneel to your so-called king?”
Kay’s cheerful demeanor faltered slightly, but Ector raised a calming hand. “I understand your mistrust. You’ve been betrayed before—used, discarded. But King Arthur is not like the ones who’ve wronged you.”
The group fell into a tense silence as Ector’s words hung in the air. The widows exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of doubt, fear, and contemplation.
Yelena crossed her arms, her tone sharp. “So, it’s not really a choice, is it? Join you, or we’re left to fend for ourselves against whatever’s left of the Red Room.”
Kay shook his head, stepping forward with a calm yet firm voice. “It is a choice, one we hope you’ll make because it’s right for you. But know this, the King won’t ask you to fight, to kill, you can cook, clean, many things, you will not be forced to fight again.”
The older widow’s eyes narrowed, her voice sharp. “That’s what they all say. ‘This time it’s different.’ We’re done being pawns.”
Ector stepped forward, his shield still glowing faintly. “You misunderstand. Service to Camelot is not slavery. It’s a choice—yours alone. If you refuse, we will not force you. You are free to leave.”
The younger widow spoke up, her voice trembling with suppressed anger. “And then what? Where do we go? Back to a world that doesn’t want us? We’re killers, freaks. There’s no place for us.”
Kay’s voice softened as he addressed her directly. “Camelot can be that place. Not because you’re weapons, but because you’re people. Our king believes in giving the broken and forgotten a chance to rebuild.”
Yelena’s skepticism remained. “And what happens if we say no? Will your ‘king’ hunt us down, like they did when Natasha escaped?”
Ector shook his head firmly. “No, the king would never do that… but I will be honest, without agreeing, the king’s protection won’t extent to you, and you might face retaliation from your former masters.”
The widows visibly relaxed at Kay's words, though suspicion lingered in their eyes. The older widow narrowed her gaze, her voice still sharp but less combative. “No fighting? And what happens when your king gets tired of us? When we’re no longer useful?”
Ector met her gaze with quiet conviction. “You are not tools to be used and discarded. You are people. Camelot does not measure worth by what someone can do in battle. It values loyalty, honor, and the willingness to rebuild a life of purpose.”
Yelena frowned, her skepticism giving way to cautious curiosity. “Cook, clean... live? You’re saying we’d actually be allowed to live normal lives? After everything we’ve been through?”
Kay nodded, his expression softening. “That’s exactly what we’re saying. You’ve been denied that choice for too long. Now, you can take it back.”
The younger widow, still wide-eyed, finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “And if we want to fight? To make sure no one else ends up like us?”
Ector inclined his head, respect evident in his tone. “Then that will be your choice. To stand as knights, protectors of others, if that is what you desire. But it will always be your decision, not a command.”
In the end, the widows knew that going to Camelot was for the best; they needed protection, at least for now. Honestly, the younger girls were eager to go; they still held a bit of innocence in them.
That spark, that urged them towards a land of magic and knights, one of fantasy, and even the older girls were curious.
As those who were full widows, having long since finished their training, their thoughts were mixed.
Yelena finally sighed in defeat. “Fine, we will join you for now, and see your king for ourselves… so, how do we get there?”
Kay, looking entirely too casual for someone with no plan, leaned on his sword. “Ah, well, you see… about that…” He glanced at Ector for backup.
Ector sighed heavily, gripping his shield. “The truth is, we don’t know.”
Yelena blinked. “You don’t know?”
Kay raised a hand defensively. “Look, we didn’t exactly walk here ourselves. We were sent—dumped into the snow by a witch with a flair for drama. No directions, no return ticket.”
The widows exchanged incredulous looks. One of the older women scowled. “So you’re telling me you marched in here, tore this place apart, and you don’t even know how to get back to your so-called kingdom?”
Kay grinned sheepishly. “When you put it like that, it sounds bad.”
“It is bad,” Yelena snapped. “You don’t even know where Camelot is?”
Ector stepped in, his voice steady and calm. “In our beloved England!”
Yelena knew this, the whole world knew where Camelot was. The problem here was the fact that they were in Seberia, which was very far from England. “And do you know where we are now?” She asked with a biting tone.
Ector hesitated for a moment, his composure slipping ever so slightly. “Well… somewhere cold. And remote. With lots of snow.”
Kay chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Let’s just call it ‘somewhere unpleasant,’ shall we?”
Yelena’s expression was a mix of exasperation and disbelief. “We’re in Siberia, knights. Half a world away from your precious Camelot.”
One of the older widows groaned audibly. “Fantastic. We escaped one nightmare only to freeze to death in another.”
Kay, ever the optimist, waved a hand dismissively. “Nonsense. We’ll figure it out. There must be a village or a settlement nearby. People don’t build secret assassin schools in the middle of nowhere without some connection to civilization.”
Yelena wanted to scream. Because that is exactly what people do: build it remotely, so remote that escape on foot is impossible. That the only real way in and out is by flying. How these knights didn’t understand that she couldn’t understand.
Yelena’s patience was wearing thin. She gestured around at the endless expanse of snow, her voice rising. “Do you see any villages? Any signs of civilization? This place is designed so you don’t stumble across help. It’s a fortress of isolation, not a weekend getaway!”
Kay tilted his head, genuinely unbothered by her frustration. “Well, then, it’s a good thing we’re not exactly ordinary travelers. We’re knights. Improvisation is half the adventure!”
Yelena stared at him, her disbelief mounting. “You might be fine, but we have three dozen kids here, who can’t walk even a tenth of the way to the nearest settlement.”
Ector nodded gravely, glancing back at the group of trembling, exhausted children huddled together for warmth. “She’s right, Kay. These young ones won’t last long out here without shelter and proper care.”
Kay’s optimism dimmed slightly as he followed Ector’s gaze. “True. But we’re not going to let that happen. There must be another way.”
Yelena pinched the bridge of her nose, exhaling sharply. “Unless one of you can summon a magical flying horse, we’re stuck. The Red Room designed this place to be inescapable on foot.”
Kay’s face lit up with a mischievous grin. “Magical flying horse? Not quite, but give me a moment.” He stepped away, scanning the horizon as if expecting divine intervention.
Ector sighed, placing a reassuring hand on Yelena’s shoulder. “We will find a way, Yelena. Trust in us, just as you trusted us to break you out of that place.”
Yelena shrugged his hand off, her tone sharp. “That’s not trust. That’s survival. And survival means being realistic. If we can’t find a solution, these kids won’t make it through the night.”
As the tension rose, one of the younger widows stepped forward hesitantly. “What about the vehicles the guards had? There were snowmobiles and transport trucks in the compound.”
Yelena blinked, her frustration giving way to thought. “They must have fuel stored somewhere. If we can get them running…”
Kay’s grin returned. “Now that’s the spirit! Nothing like commandeering enemy resources.”
Ector gave a solemn nod. “It’s a plan. Let’s search the wreckage for usable vehicles. We’ll get everyone out of here together.”
It didn’t take long before the widows all realized how hopelessly clueless the two knights were about the modern age, they seemed to struggle with the most simple of things.
And so the widows quickly took over the task of getting them to their new home. Thankfully, they had plenty of relevant training, and with the knights, they at least didn’t have to worry about being attacked.
