My Snippets, Incomplete Ideas, or Prototype Works

John Ibraham POV

The sounds of heavy metal footsteps echoed as Morgana watched the hooded battered knight approach her throne "I should have known that you survived Sir John," she said with a slight sneer as the knight limped closer with a black colored long blade in one hand and the other held a broken Clarent.

"You...didn't really think I would allow you to live after what you did bitch!" the knight spat as he lifted his head causing the hood that covered him to fall down revealing a white face caked with blood, black hair, and lastly a pair of mismatched blue/hazel eyes.

His body trembled with not only pain but immense hatred for the mad woman in front of him "Mordred...My King....the rest of the Round Table they were all I had and y-you took that away from me they are all now dead every last one of them because of your manipulations," he said with such intensity that it almost made Morgana flinch.

"My dear John, what can you do about it? This was destiny, I told you from the start that if I couldn't rule then I would make sure everything Arthur held dear crumbled away," Morgana replied slowly rising up from her seat.

"You were never worthy of the throne, and you never will be," said the knight as the sound of an anvil echoed in his mind "strike...on," he mentally recited as twenty circuits flicked open.

"Analyzing and Reconstructing Blueprint," he intoned, causing the broken Clarent to start glowing a faint blue color. The red blade of Sir Mordred began to rebuild itself right before their eyes "so you rebuilt the blade but do you honestly think you can keep up with me? All you have is a rip-off magecraft of that Counter Guardian I on the other hand am a magus of high caliber," Morgana laughed.

"It's true...my magic is based off of another but so what! There's no rule out there that says I can't turn that into something of my own," Sir John said as the black blade in his other hand began to shift its appearance gaining runes of unknown origins upon the blade.

"I am not copying weapons like that man or boy but rather I've always been rebuilding, creating, and improving...all I need to do is just imagine the perfect weapon to kill you, that's all I need," Sir John continued.

Morgana sneered, raising her black staff and dark tendrils of magic began to swirl around her twisting and writhing like a living shadow "come then I will tear you apart piece by piece, just like with Camelot," she declared.

Sir John took a step forward, his battered armor groaning under the weight of his movements, but his grip on Clarent and the black blade did not falter "haha you still don't get it, do you Morgana?" he said his voice low and steady though it brimmed with fiery determination.

"I've no intention of trying to beat you in a power play but rather how fast I can kill you with my swords."

The black blade in his other hand seemed to darken further its sinister aura growing more intense. John's mismatched eyes locked onto Morgan his presence radiating defiance "you see yourself as untouchable, as if you're above consequences but everything you've done has led to this moment. You've made an enemy of a man who has nothing left to lose," he continued.

Without giving a response countless spheres made of shadows launched themselves at Sir John who was able to strike them down with his swords.

More spheres began to surround him as John spun, cleaving through the spheres with the nameless black blade and Clarent in his hands "bastard just die!" Morgana screamed, unleashing more spheres.

Red Lightning escaped from Clarent as John roared "CLARENT BLOOD SLASH!" a slash of red lightning quickly destroyed the spheres.

Purple flames came out from Morgan's staff as she shaped it into a great ethereal dragon "you cannot defeat me with mere blades John this is the end," Morgan declared with glee.