The Once and Future King looked around his realm, to see his knights standing close by and his beloved overjoyed at his return. But Lancelot was not there. Nor was his beloved Guinevere there to cleave him. A horrific world moved about him, a world so futuristic the King fell to his knees in awe.
While he did not know it, the 31st century whizzed by his ancient being. Lanterns flashed unnatural colours. Horseless carriages flew through the air. The tongues of far of lands were shouted at him from passersby. The smells that overwhelmed him were so sweet, so new.
That was the first familiar thing that had happened since his resurrection. The thought hit him like a lance to the chest. If he hadn’t already been on his knees, he would have dropped. He recalled the words “future” and “again” while his eyes closed for the last time, but didn’t perceive what was being said. What had Merlin done? What magick had brought him here?
He stood to his feet, glancing back and forth for the voice that called him. He stood a foot above those shoving past him. Their gaze never meet his own, as if he was a ghost to them. What was this place that he had been called to?