She's seen this — or something like it — before. The hill where she killed her father, and where her father killed her. A hand goes to her chest, half-expecting to find Rhongomyniad piercing through it. But it's not the actual battle of Camlann, just a scene equal in destruction to it. Destruction on a scale that should only ever happen once.

Mordred doesn't turn her face away, though. She stares in silence, listening to the screams, smelling the rot.

"Yeah? Then listen close," she says, finally. "I won't fail like my father did. Even if he was perfect— I'll surpass him. I'll show you that you're wrong."

About her. About him. She faces Kebechet again, her hand sweeping wide, taking in the battlefield.

"After all, I'm the only one who can destroy this land. You don't get to decide Britain's fate." And if she chooses to preserve it, instead, then this scene should never come to pass. "You're just pissing me off. Quit messing with my stuff."