Capítulo 4: Interlude and History Ideia

WARNING:OOC ARTHUR

INTERLUDE I

Before everything, before the first thought, before the first spark of existence, Libur was nothing. She didn't know what it meant *to exist*. There was no consciousness, no emotions, not even a void to be filled. It was as if her essence was trapped in eternal dormancy, incapable of perceiving or reacting to anything. There was only nothingness—until, in a moment impossible to pinpoint, she felt… awake.

It was a sensation as sudden as it was terrifying. Absolute absence gave way to a world full of stimuli. The first was the touch of light. No—something warmer than light. A heat that pierced through her newly discovered existence. Then came the sounds. They were soft, like distant echoes, but quickly became clear, revealing themselves as the voice of someone.

The first thing her eyes saw was a man. He watched her with a caring, almost paternal gaze, as a warm smile formed on his lips.

"My perfect creation," he said, his voice deep yet gentle, as if each word were a carefully chosen gift.

That phrase echoed within her, as if it defined not only what she was but the very reason she existed. Yet, as his smile widened, she noticed something more. Something in his eyes. A subtle melancholy, as if he were seeing something far beyond her—something lost in his memories.

Libur didn't understand it at that moment. Still, the image of that man engraved itself upon her like an indelible mark, something she knew she would never forget.

He named her **EXCALIBUR**, proclaiming her as the weapon that would embody his ego. For countless years, she fulfilled her role. She was his blade, his faithful extension. In every battle, her master wielded her with skill, and together, they obliterated enemies and claimed victories. She was not merely a tool; she was the weapon that shared her master's glory, and that filled her being with pride.

The battles were like stages, where she and Arthur played. The cries, the clash of metal against metal, the sound of victory ringing in every strike… all of it was part of a performance and a game they composed together.

But one day, after yet another crushing victory, something changed.

Arthur drove her firmly into a pile of discarded weapons. His fingers released the hilt with almost imperceptible hesitation, and with a discontented sigh, he murmured:

"Wait here… until I have a new use for you."

And then, he left.

Libur waited.

At first, there was certainty. He would return. He always returned. Time seemed irrelevant, for she had no other purpose than to be ready for him. But days turned into months, which turned into years.

Libur, unable to simply exist as a sword, assumed her humanoid adult form and sat atop the pile of discarded weapons. Her form was that of a tall woman, elegant and resolute, reflecting the strength and grace she possessed in her blade form. The black dress she wore seemed made of the same material as her blade, gleaming under the artificial light of the Playground's sky.

Years accumulated. Decades. She waited. She never resented him. Even as the world around her seemed to forget, she remained there, unmoving, focused on the singular thought that sustained her resolve: *"He will return."*

One night, as she gazed at the starry sky of one of the Playground's infinite realms, she murmured a wish.

"I… I want to have a name."

It was a simple confession, almost a whisper.

"Excalibur is the name of a weapon…" she continued, hugging her knees as she stared at the stars. "I want a real name… one that's mine alone…"

It was a desire she had never confessed before, not even to herself. It was selfish, she knew. Her master had created her to fight, to win, not to have her own desires. And yet, the thought persisted, growing in some dark corner of her mind like a lamp that refused to be extinguished.

The years passed. Centuries. The landscape around her changed many times. The Playground, with its constantly shifting worlds, seemed melancholic, abandoned. Libur watched the changes with a tranquil indifference, like a statue alive to the passage of time. But over time, the desire was buried beneath layers of patience and resignation. When she was on the verge of accepting that she had been forgotten, *he appeared.*

Arthur emerged, exactly as he had been before, with that same carefree smile. He patted her head familiarly, as if not a single day had passed.

"Why is my cute weapon crying?" he asked, his voice full of gentle teasing.

Libur looked up at him, tears streaming down her face without her realizing it.

"It's… it's just a silly thought…" she replied, quickly wiping the tears, feeling the warmth of his touch on her head.

Arthur, however, tilted his head, as if sensing the unspoken weight of her words.

"You've been holding onto something all these years, haven't you?" He smiled. "Come on, say it."

Libur hesitated. The centuries of waiting made the request even harder. But finally, she whispered:

"I… I want a name. A name of my own… given by my master."

For a moment, silence enveloped her, and then Arthur laughed. A carefree, genuine laugh that made her chest tighten with nervousness and shame.

"Forgive me… I knew it was a silly request," she began to apologize, averting her gaze.

But Arthur interrupted her, placing his hands firmly on her shoulders.

"I'm laughing because I'm an idiot," he declared. "An idiot who forgot to tell you something important."

She blinked, confused, as he gave her a confident smile.

"You've always had a name."

Libur stared at him, incredulous.

"Excalibur is too grand a name, don't you think? Your name is Libur, my adorable and favorite ego weapon."

In that moment, the tears overflowed again, but this time they were tears of happiness. She embraced him with all her strength, ignoring his teasing remarks about his shirt being ruined.

"How foolish I was… My master had already given me a name…" she thought as she felt the warmth of his presence.

FLASHBACK END

Libur awoke from her reverie to Arthur's voice—or rather, his voice within Jaune's body.

"You finally woke up?" he asked, holding her in her sword form. "It's time for us to get to work."

She responded promptly, feeling the familiar weight of her existence align with her master's will.

"Yes, master."

As she observed the scenery around her, she thought with determination:

"No matter the era, world, or time… I will always be my master's ego weapon and favorite person. I am Libur, the ego weapon of God Arthur."

________________________________

AUTHOR NOTE AND HISTORY IDEIA:

A.N: The interlude takes place parallel to Arthur's transition into Jaune. Arthur's perception of time differs from Libur's—what feels like days to him are centuries for her and millennia for others.

_____________

HISTORY IDEIA:

Lore/Idea for the next fic: Rusted Knight "Dean"

Dean, formerly known by his original name Jaune Arc, is a variant of Jaune from another timeline. In this version, instead of going to the Ever After, he is thrown decades into the future—a future where Salem has brought humanity to the brink of extinction, and nearly all of his friends are dead.

One of his only surviving friends is Ruby, who has become a shadow of her former self. Now a mechanic, she dedicates her life to protecting one of the last remaining human villages.

Jaune, bitter and filled with self-loathing for his perceived failures, has abandoned his old name and taken on the alias Dean. Since then, he has spent years battling Salem's forces.

However, during one of these battles, he is flung into another timeline—back to the Beacon initiation—and ends up replacing his past self to prevent any paradoxes. Now, with the knowledge of the horrors that await, he is determined to fix things and prevent the bleak future that was once his destiny.