So it was agreed that the ghouls would return to the light, and talk with their oldest foes, as the survivors of those searching for the Grail, found themselves in ever thicker darkness. Until at last they found themselves in a passage, sealed up for centuries, leading to a door simply labelled “Captain”.
Unfortunately, as Bors and Percival already found, the automatic gun turrets outside were still very much active. Anyone approaching was blown swiftly to pieces. Arthur was all but prepared to give up, until he saw the gleam in Galahad’s eyes.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m gonna do what I was chosen to do.”
And with that the maddened pilgrim stood and walked into the corridor. And the guns opened fire.
Say what you want about faith, but it can do powerful things to those that have it. It can stop you faltering when the bullets start to slam into you. It can keep you walking as they blow your legs to bloody stumps. It can keep you laughing as your lungs are riddled with lead and shrapnel. It can keep you smiling as half your face is blown away. It can keep someone like Galahad standing tall until the guns clicked dry.
The door was not locked, and opened without a sound as what was left of Galahad fell to the floor. From inside came a pale blue glow. A lifepod stood in the centre, with a motionless figure inside. His uniform identified him as Captain Joseph Robert Mathea. In his hands he held the GRAIL.
It is a shame none of the three Pendragons thought to check the logs held in that room. They held much on how Fort Galfridean fell, and perhaps could have warned them of the terrible responsibility of holding the GRAIL.