Wake Me Up A Week Later

"Oh Incarni."

Guinevere whispered, her voice quivering as her eyes took in the blood pooling around her feet.

"Minerva," I broke the silence, my voice barely above a whisper. "What do you see inside?"

Minerva's response cut through the silence, but there was something... unnerving about the AI's voice.

"Death," she said. "Pure, unadulterated death. I have never seen anything like this."

I never imagined the AI was capable of expressing shock.

Dread tightened its poisonous grip around my chest, and with every step toward the door, the blood squelched beneath my boots, the sound sickening in the heavy quiet.

"Let me, Mother." I stopped beside Guinevere. Her gaze flickered to me, full of concern, as though instinctively trying to shield me from the horrors ahead.

"Are you sure, Mordred? What if she's—"

"I'll be fine," I interrupted, forcing a smile. "She's bloody strong. She's probably figuring out how to look badass sitting on top of a pile of bodies."

I tried to chuckle, but it came out hollow. My hands trembled as I pushed open the doors.

They swung open soundlessly, and a wave of blood flowed over my boots, splashing around my ankles.

The stench of death hit me like a wall, thick and suffocating, filling my lungs with every breath.

My breathing became heavy, and ragged, as my eyes beheld the nightmare before me.

What I saw would be seared into my mind forever. 

A hundred bodies, some dismembered and others whole lay scattered like discarded puppets in a sea of blood that stretched out as far as I could see, staining everything in a dark, viscous red

Each corpse told a story of agony and terror, their faces frozen into horrifying expressions of primal despair and rage.

Black claws like huge scythes, and black teeth that looked like needles stood out of the naked bodies twisted and morphed by the wraiths into killing machines. 

I stepped carefully between the bodies, my stomach churning with each sickening squelch beneath my feet as I navigated through this swamp of blood and death.

Yet amidst the horror, my focus remained fixed on her.

Her back was turned to me, her silhouette bathed in the glow of blood-soaked carnage.

A dark aura clung to her like a miasma, and she swayed on unsteady legs, her breaths ragged.

"Iris?" My voice cracked.

She froze, then turned slowly, her face barely visible through the blood covering her features.

"Mordred?" Her voice was a whisper, raw with exhaustion.

What I saw broke my soul.

Her right arm was cleanly sliced off at the shoulder, a precise cut that only she was capable of, most likely a self-amputation in a desperate act of self-preservation

Her Deathwalker uniform was tattered and torn, shredded by the relentless onslaught of the wraiths. The fabric hung in tatters, revealing the horrors that lay beneath in stark detail.

Her body was a canvas of carnage. Deep gashes crisscrossed her skin, gashes that cut down to the bone.

There were so many gashes that they almost covered her scars.

Rivulets of blood flowed freely from her wounds, mixing with the blood of the wraiths she was bathed in. 

Amidst the many horrific wounds were what looked like bite marks. Necrosis spread out of those wounds like a plague as what seemed like venom spread all over her body like wildfire.

A gaping hole marred her torso, exposing her ribs and viscera to the world.

And her face... Incarni, her face.

A chill gripped me as I gazed upon the devastation etched upon her face

Most of her left cheek was torn asunder, revealing the jagged edges of her jawbone and bloody lacerations marred her beautiful face.

Blood flowed down from her eyes like tears and her blue irises pierced through the crimson of her bloodshot eyes.

Despite the atrocities that wracked her form, Iris mustered a small, grotesque smile.

"Hey, love. Told you I'll be fine."

Her legs gave way, and I rushed forward, catching her before she collapsed completely.

My heart pounded in my ears as I kneeled down, clearing a space amidst the blood and bodies with my blood tentacles before laying her down gently.

"Iris..." My voice trembled as I cradled her head in my arms, tears slipping down my cheeks and mixing with the blood on her skin.

She smiled faintly. "I beat my nightmare."

"I'm just glad you're safe," she rasped, though her eyes clouded with uncertainty. "Don't worry love. She promised I wouldn't die..."

"What do you mean?", I asked softly, brushing hair from her face as gently as I could.

Her expression grew cloudy. "I... I can't remember," she admitted

Her grip tightened on my hand. "Oh, yes... Jeko Hess. Kill that son of a bitch for me."

"Was he responsible for this?" Anger simmered beneath the surface, but I kept my voice steady.

She nodded weakly. "Yep. Might take me a while to wake up, though. So get that little bastard for me."

A smile tugged at my lips despite the weight crushing my chest. "I will."

Iris smiled, and coughed, blood bubbling from her lips as her breathing grew fainter.

"DOC!", I called out frantically.

"Coming!" Dr. Casper Haytham bounded across the room, his team following close behind.

He kneeled beside Iris, his eyes scanning her condition.

"You better stay alive kid. No way you're dying after deleting a hundred wraiths," Dr. Haytham muttered, determination etched into every word.

"A hundred and seven, actually," Iris corrected and coughed out blood again.

"Fuck. I should stop speaking," she muttered, her voice growing fainter with each breath.

She looked at me, her voice barely above a whisper. "Mordred, give me a kiss."

I leaned down, pressing my lips to hers, tasting the metallic tang of blood. Her lips were torn, but I could still feel the warmth in them.

"Wake me up a week later," she murmured before closing her eyes, her breathing becoming shallower with each passing moment.

I glanced at Dr. Casper, desperation clawing at me. His expression was grim as he worked, his hands moving quickly over Iris's wounds.

"This is bad," he muttered. "The venom's spread too far... but how the hell is she still alive? Wraith venom should've killed her by now."

He paused, frowning. "Her stigma kept the venom at bay, but it has worn off. But the venom's spread is still slow."

I reached out, touching one of her veins. Something felt... familiar. A sensation that ran deep into my blood.

"Pendragon blood," I murmured, realization dawning. "Iris used some of my blood in her experiments... maybe it's what's slowing the venom."

Dr. Casper's eyes widened as the realization hit. "That could explain it. You and Iris share the same blood type. Your blood's keeping her alive."

"Minerva!" he barked. "Teleport us to Althea, now!"

"Very well," her voice echoed all around us, and immediately a bright green flash filled my vision.

The next thing I knew, we were in one of the private emergency rooms of Althea and a healer was escorting us out of the room.

"What's happening!" I demanded, shrugging off the healer and turning toward the Doc.

"We need your blood for a transfusion. It might be the only thing that neutralizes the venom," he explained quickly, urgency in his voice. "Now hurry. We don't have much time."

I nodded, looking back at Iris one more time. Her face was barely visible beneath the oxygen mask, her torn uniform being carefully removed by the team.

As I followed the healer out of the room, I whispered to myself, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Please. You better not die, Iris."

*******

"You need sleep, Mordred."

Gawain's voice broke the tense silence of the waiting room, his eyes heavy with concern. He looked over to Guinevere, seeking her support.

"Say something to him, Mother. It's been two days, and he hasn't slept a wink."

Guinevere sighed softly, shaking her head with a tired smile. "It wouldn't matter, Wain. He's too stubborn to rest until he knows she's out of danger."

Her expression turned wistful as she continued, "It reminds me of your father. I still remember when Morg was gravely injured after a battle."

"The healing took three days, and Arthur refused to sleep, watching over her the entire time."

I stared at her, blinking in disbelief. "You're talking about the High King? The same man I know?"

She chuckled softly, amusement dancing in her eyes over the worrying sadness. "Oh, it's true. Your father is a cold man, but when it came to Morgause… he was human too."

"Bullshit," I muttered under my breath, briefly distracted from the anxiety twisting in my gut.

Her laugh was soft but genuine. "You'll just have to see for yourself one day."

Before I could respond, Artemis approached us, her face serious.

She bowed to Guinevere. "Your Majesty."

Guinevere smiled kindly. "Good to see you, Miss Fray."

Artemis straightened and turned to me. "We've caught him. He was trying to flee into one of the hidden corridors."

My chest tightened, and the anger I'd been keeping at bay began to stir again cold and simmering.

"Where is he?" I asked, my voice deceptively calm, betraying the rage beneath the surface.

"The Commander is interrogating him now," Artemis said, her eyes flicking downward for a moment. "Rather... rigorously."

 I rose from my seat and looked at her. "Take me to him."

Artemis nodded, her expression hardening. "That's why I'm here. The Commander requested you."

I nodded. "Very well. Let's go."

As I started to follow her, Guinevere's voice stopped me in my tracks. Her tone was edged with cold seriousness.

"Mordred."

I met her gaze. She didn't need to say anything more—her eyes told me enough.

"I'll handle it, Mother," I said quietly, steadying my voice. "The doctor should come out with news soon. Stay here. I'll return."

Her expression softened slightly, but the worry remained. Without another word, I turned to Artemis.

"Let's go."