You stumbled into the cave, curious and unafraid, and there I was. You knew me as surely as I knew you: the Pendragon reborn, destined to reclaim me and remake the world in its hour of greatest need. You felt that shock of recognition, and that compulsion to take me up, draw me out, and become what you were meant to be. And I felt... relief. I had been resting here for such a long time, waiting for you to return.
But then you came forward and rested a single finger on my hilt. You smiled that small, sad smile. And you said, "Let them burn."
Did I wait all these centuries for this?
So the Pendragon took one look at the post-Brexit Tory government and decided to nope out of there? It's not like that's the sort of problem that can be fixed with a sword.
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