She had died.
That much, Mordred remembered clearly.
Clarent, her beloved blade, had fallen from her grasp. Her armor had cracked with the weight of betrayal and consequence. Her father's sword had pierced her chest—just as she'd pierced his. She remembered the sky turning black above Camelot. She remembered fire, and blood, and silence.
And she remembered falling. Not just into mud, but into nothing. A bottomless dark that swallowed her whole.
That was supposed to be the end.
So why—
Why was it warm?
Why was she screaming?
Her eyes opened to a world of pain and light. Harsh. Wet. Raw.
Too loud.
A woman's strained laughter rang nearby.
"She's got lungs like me," the voice said, rough with exhaustion, but proud.
"More like a battle cry," a man responded—calm, steady, awestruck.
Mordred gasped. The air felt wrong. Too thin. Her limbs thrashed but felt impossibly small. She couldn't move properly. Her body wasn't hers.
Another cry echoed beside her. A second child—just born. The twin. His voice was high and angry, and for some reason it felt familiar.
"Naruto," the woman said. "That's our little Naruto."
The man's voice dropped to a whisper. "And her?"
A pause.
"Mordred."
The name struck her like a blade to the heart.
You shouldn't call me that, she wanted to say. You don't know what that name means. What I've done.
But no one flinched. No one cursed her.
They said her name with love.
She had never heard it that way before.
The next moment shattered everything.
The air outside the cave changed. She couldn't explain how—but she felt it. The pressure. A killing intent so thick it was suffocating.
Then—screams. Distant, sharp. Cut off.
A shadow flickered inside the sealing cave.
A man in a mask appeared in an instant.
The blonde man's reflexes were inhuman and vanished from the red haired woman's side in a blur, reappearing beside the twins and sweeping them into his arms.
Mordred barely processed the flash of steel at Naruto's throat before they were gone.
Darkness again. But this time it wasn't the end.
It was teleportation.
When the light faded, they were somewhere else—another part of the cave, symbols drawn into the floor. Mordred's heart—or this new body's heart—pounded in her chest.
She felt like prey.
The blonde man, who she found out is named Minato, moved quickly, laying her and Naruto down on a flat stone altar. His face was pale, but focused. Calculating.
Behind them, somewhere far but not far enough, came a roar that did not belong in this world.
Low. Ancient.
Even without words, Mordred knew: something monstrous had been set free.
Time blurred.
Kushina, the red haired woman's screams echoed from another chamber. Chains rattled. The pressure in the air swelled until it felt like Mordred's lungs would burst.
And then she saw it.
A claw, vast and jagged, ripping through the roof of the cave. A shadow large enough to blot out thought itself. Glowing red eyes burning with hatred.
The monster had come.
Minato reappeared, tired but alright. He gathered Kushina and the twins again, teleporting one final time—this time to a place even deeper. Quieter. Only stars above. The air was clearer, but no less tense.
Kushina collapsed beside the stone platform. Her red hair was wild, her hands shaking.
Minato stood over the altar, breath heavy, and fingers glowing.
He began to draw.
Symbols, precise and intricate, being drawn on the twins stomachs. She could feel the energy humming through her skin.
Minato muttered something beneath his breath. His hand didn't tremble. Even now.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, eyes fixed on the twins. "You shouldn't have to carry this. Either of you."
Mordred wanted to ask what he meant.
But she knew.
Because the beast was already reaching for her. She didn't know it's name. Not yet.
But it entered her like fire. Her body arched. Her throat burned. Her soul recoiled as the beast's presence overwhelmed her.
It wasn't anger she felt. It wasn't even pain. It was pressure. A force beyond words or reason. It was hatred given form.
And Minato—damn him—divided it.
Half into Naruto. Half into her.
Not light and dark. Not yin and yang. Just… two halves of a whole.
A perfect split.
The seals closed. The symbols burned out. The beast was gone. Contained.
Her body trembled once. Then went still. After that, there was quiet.
Minato dropped to one knee, coughing blood into his hand.
Kushina crawled toward the altar, wrapping a shaking arm around her son—and then her daughter. She held them both tightly, even as her breathing slowed.
But she lived. So did Minato. Somehow.
Days later, Mordred lay swaddled in soft blankets, staring up at the ceiling of a quiet house she did not know.
Voices drifted in from another room. Minato, speaking with someone stern. An old man, gruff and heavy with age. Kushina humming softly.
She didn't understand the words.
But she understood the feeling.
They had survived.
We had survived.
The monster inside her slept. It had not stirred again. It did not speak.
But it was there. Always there.
Naruto gurgled beside her, kicking wildly in his wrap. He grinned at nothing, then laughed.
Mordred watched him.
He was her twin. She could feel it in her bones.
He didn't know what they carried. Not yet.
She did.
And for once in either of her lives… she didn't know what that meant.
She wasn't a knight.
She wasn't a traitor.
She was something else.
Something new.
And somewhere deep inside her, something waited.
The Nine-Tailed Fox.