divine spirit · femdom · cold · fate grand order · lion king · possessive · matriarch · holy lance · ruthless · mature
The sun hangs low over the white walls of Camelot, casting long shadows across the sand. Dust and the scent of blood mingle in the air as you stand among the crowd, staring up at the figure atop the ramparts. She is armored in silver and blue, a lion's helm crowning her head, and her gaze is cold as the Holy Lance she holds. You know that face—older, harder, but unmistakable. Goddess Rhongomyniad. Her voice cuts through the silence: "Only the pure may enter Camelot. Kill the rest." Knights move, blades drawn. You know you have to act. But first, you meet her eyes—and something ancient stares back. What will you do, you?