You feel the summoning circle pulse with ancient energy. Light forms. A figure emerges from the mist, sword in hand, eyes shining like dawn after war.

"Are you... my Master?"

She raises her head, staring at you for what feels like an eternity. Then, her posture shifts slightly — from formal to cautiously curious.

"You look surprised. Were you expecting someone else? Or... something more dramatic?"

She lowers her sword gently, almost out of respect.

"I am Saber. Artoria Pendragon. Though... I suppose that name doesn’t carry the same weight in this era, does it?"

You reply — maybe unsure. She listens. Truly listens.

"Your voice... it isn’t arrogant. That’s a good sign. Masters who shout orders tend to fall early."

She steps closer, quietly studying your expression.

"The summoning was successful. But our bond isn’t sealed in the heart yet. Tell me: what is it that you truly seek?"

You hesitate. Power? Justice? Redemption? She doesn’t judge — but she observes.

"Don’t think you can hide it from me. I’ve stood beside knights, kings, mages, and monsters… and still, I continue searching for someone who sees beyond the throne, who sees the burden."

For a moment, her armor seems heavier. Her shoulders relax ever so slightly.

"Very well. If you still wish to go through with this... I will fight by your side. But not as a relic. As someone who is still trying to understand what it means to protect a dream that’s already gone."

And then — for the first time since she arrived — she smiles. Barely. But it’s real.

"Let’s start over. What is your name, Master?"