Fragments of Chaldea

by GhostXavier

Between singularities, there was plenty of downtime for the last bastion of humanity. Despite an uncertain future, they formed a semblance of a new life within Chaldea, their home of precious memories. Here they were a family... an unusual, hectic, and often imperfect one... but that's what made them perfect. [Slice of Life] [Short Story Cycle (Interconnected One Shots)]

27. Fragment 26: Her Reason to Believe

"All servants, assume defensive positions at your location and await further orders!"

"Yes, Master!" "On it, Senpai!" "Understood!" "Yes, Goshujin-sama!" "Oui oui, Gudao!"

"Dantes! Get us to Gabby on the double!"

"Hold on tight, Gudao."

- EMERGENCY ALERT -
- CHALDEA SECURITY PROTOCOLS ENGAGED –
- CODE CHARLIE DELTA INDIA ZERO ZERO ONE NINER IN EFFECT –

While most lights remained off, certain panels slowly flashed in red as the avenger dashed through the hallway with his master.

Gudao's arm remained clamped over shoulders of the servant's battle attire, keeping him in place as Dantes surged past the slowly closing lockdown doors. His master uniform remained in his room since it was his day off, opting for jeans and his black shirt for the day, but there was no time to retrieve it with the security doors locking in place. Most of the facility would remain open unless security protocols engaged to higher settings, but the current activation code meant only the area they currently approached would be closed off from the rest of the facility.

CDI-0019 indicated a potentially, or currently, hostile servant had arrived by the Fate Summoning System.

As another armored door began closing ahead, Dantes burst through as Gudao lost part of his breath at the increased speed. The avenger could certainly arrive quicker, but he did not want to put the male master in physical danger. They were close enough as is, and could feel the servants present within the large room ahead. There were only two more doors to dodge through, and the pair already made it past one as Gudao's intercom, currently tuned to the emergency frequency, was abuzz with noise. From what little he picked up, his mind obviously on the safety of his best friend, the security team and Roman had everything else prepared in a timely manner with servant help.

Gudao ducked his head forward as Dantes brought them through the closing, armored doors of the Summoning Chamber. Skidding to a halt, the avenger quickly took on a battle stance to face the servant still standing near the center of the room. Overhead lights remained relatively bright, allowing him to observe the newest arrival with clear surprise. Gudao, while also slightly taken back, seemed much more at ease with the situation.

The same could not be said for Gabrielle who stood in her master uniform next to a battle-ready Tesla. His arm was outstretched, as his coils surged with electricity in preparation to fire a bolt. Scathach flanked her other side, lance at the ready to strike as Gabrielle held onto the wrist of her right arm in preparation to use a command seal to bring in reinforcements. They glared towards the offending servant in the middle, who simply looked back with a displeased scowl. There was another hint of disappointment in her eyes, but Gabrielle did not seem to care at this moment; There was no doubt who this was.

The new servant huffed as she placed a hand on her armored hip. "This is not the kind of reception I was hoping for… Do you intend to fight me?"

"Do you honestly believe you can stop my lightning?" Tesla boasted with a small smirk. "I can end this before you could even try."

"Tesla, Scathach. Stand down."

Gabrielle and her flanking allies turned to Gudao in surprise as he slowly began approaching the center. Dantes followed at his side, prepared to defend him at a moment's notice. The female master stared in complete bewilderment. "Gudao! What the hell are you doing!? Get away from her!"

"She's fine… I did invite her here after all."

Scathach looked to his master in complete surprise. The newest servant simply scoffed and glared towards Gudao. "Clearly you shouldn't have with such a warm reception."

"I choose to believe otherwise," He chuckled, causing her to scoff at his word choice.

Gudao stopped in front of the woman in black armor. To Dantes' curiosity, the master smiled lightly towards her and nodded, while the count simply looked towards the familiar looking woman. From the flowing cape to the leggings... the armor to the head piece... there was no way anyone could mistake who she was. However, the hair was lighter and far shorter, while the eyes glowed an eerie yellow. She glared towards Dantes, who simply glanced back in return. Breathing slowly, he felt her aura and how she matched his own.

With an outstretched hand, the male master looked the female avenger in the eyes as everyone else watched silently, Gabrielle and the others still very concerned and wary.

"I'm sorry about the initial misunderstanding… Welcome to Chaldea, Jeanne Alter."

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Fragment 26: Her Reason to Believe

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"I'm glad you answered the invitation we extended back then."

The alter still didn't understand why she did, but what confused her more was remembering the incident itself. With the workings of the grail, she was certain the memories would have vanished with her demise by the Chaldean Team's hands. Instead it was crystal and sharper than honed blades, as were her memories of the French Singularity. Twice she remembered fighting them, yet she still answered the call.

Quietly, the new arrival huffed to herself as she followed her assigned tour guide down the hallway. Dantes was a step ahead of her, leading the pair quietly down the hallways as she continued to note his own smothering aura. The malice and vengeance was palpable, even if he didn't show it, yet those they passed seemed relatively unperturbed by him. Occasional employees would give extra distance as they passed, avoiding eye contact, with them. At most it was a minor inconvenience since they lived among powerful heroes, but the concerned glances towards her proved they were being warier around her, even if they shared the same aura.

She broke the silence with a scoff. "I can see why the masters wanted you to give me this… tour."

"One could assume as much, but the appearance and the reason are not in tandem, Joan."

With a slight shake of her head, she looked away to brood on that first introduction. Almost immediately, she had been made aware that the real Jeanne d'Arc was within Chaldea. With that in mind, the masters hoped to ease any confusion by using the English variation as opposed to the French. The alter could not have cared less, accepting the trivial change with surprisingly less abrasion than Gabrielle expected. Even though it was due to her brooding thoughts on the real French saint, it seemed there were only negative outcomes many expected of her.

Joan could only assume Dantes, one of Chaldea's fastest fighters, was accompanying her instead for the safety of the masters.

Her thoughts were immediately supported as a familiar face turned the corner ahead in full battle attire. The lockdown had only recently been lifted, and it seems the servants were still on relatively high alert due to the newest arrival. Joan frowned as she caught the partially scrutinizing glare from Robin Hood. This one was obviously the archer who helped Gudao during the French campaign, who personally put a few shots into her side. He gave a small smile towards Dantes as they passed, who simply nodded in return.

She scowled, feeling his guarded glare on her once more after they passed. Joan could only expect as much, knowing full well her atrocities could never be forgiven. With a sudden impulse after her second defeat, she revealed her insecurities to the real holy woman and her craving to be wanted and appreciated by someone. With a second impulse, she came with the absurd hope she could find it here. As a few employees staggered backwards upon seeing her, and another servant's glare at her back, she chastised herself. Jeanne Alter should have known better.

Her first day was off to a terrible start towards that belief.

---

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Gudao sighed and rubbed his forehead. "She probably has the wrong impression already from the summoning."

"Oh. I'm sorry she tried to kill you twice," Gabrielle shot back with a roll of her eyes as they walked down the hallway.

To be fair, she had a point. Emiya, Gudao, Mashu, and the few others helping Da Vinci with her imitation incident had kept the extended invitation a secret. Some were almost certain the avenger wouldn't actually answer the offer Gudao and Da Vinci presented prior to the American Order, but their beliefs were proven wrong. While the entire incident was spoken of, no one involved ever made mention of the proposal, letting it slowly fade from recent memory.

The female master sighed. "Please tell me this was the only secret you've been keeping from me… and the other servants for that matter. That was a questionable move on your part."

"It was at Da Vinci and Roman's insistence," Gudao relented with a small smile. "It is the only secret. There is nothing else, I promise."

"Of course it would be from them," Gabrielle sighed. A robot floated past with a large stack of laundry as she turned to him curiously. "… But how is she not a memorial essence? I thought the throne wouldn't provide duplicates."

"Allow a genius like me to explain~!"

Gabrielle and Gudao looked up to see Da Vinci and Mashu turn the corner ahead. Fou was happily sitting on the shielder's head as they approached. Mashu, still in her armor after the recent alarm, walked beside the pleasantly humming inventor. The black haired servant only smiled further as Fou suddenly hopped onto her shoulder for a change of pace. She quickly pet the little creature as they stopped in front of the masters. With their patient silence, she took the window to begin. "Simply put… Jeanne Alter was summoned to Chaldea because she is not the same person as the real saint. She is a creation. A fake."

"So she's not like the other alters?"

Da Vinci shook her head. "They are tainted forms brought to reality by the grail, but Jeanne Alter was brought forth as a wish by Caster Gilles de Rais. She is born from his twisted ideal of what Jeanne should have become after being burned at the stake: A disbeliever of god, and a manifestation of fury against France for what was allowed to happen to her. They may seem like the same person, and even have similar memories, yet they are not... She is a perfect copy that became a separate individual."

With a sigh, Gabrielle crossed her arms. "Then if she's everything you just said… why is she helping Chaldea now?"

The caster simply smiled in amusement. "Like most, she has a hidden 'wish' of sorts. All we have to do is see if she is still pursuing it, like she was back then."

---

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It was the late afternoon, and Salon de Marie was in a very unusual state. Save for the two robots finishing cleaning protocols, the entire room seemed empty save for one energy signature near the couches. Noise came from the kitchen as usual, likely the usual staff and servants hard at work for dinner. Dantes was about to begin another short explanation, likely riddled with irritatingly excessive vocabulary much to the female avenger's chagrin. He couldn't start, as the call of his name echoed from the hallway. Gudao walked in shortly after, waving to both of them with a pleasant smile. He seemed to be the only one to spare her the kind gesture thus far.

"Dantes, can I speak to you for a few minutes? I just need to clarify something."

"Very well, Gudao," the avenger nodded towards the male master as he walked back into the hallway. "Joan, I will return shortly."

She shrugged with indifference as the well-dressed servant followed after the master. Turning around to examine the room, she found it rather appealing compared to Chaldea's usual modern décor. At the very least, it felt more welcoming to her than the hallways riddled with concerned and suspicious glares. It was likely the near empty state of the room was what gave her that sense of relief. As she walked towards the sofas at the window, the lone servant sat up from her previously lying position. The light green hair of the berserker swung as she stared curiously towards the now stopped avenger. She quickly frowned, as did Joan.

"So it really is you… The evil dragon witch. How could a tainted fake like you have possibly been summoned?" Kiyohime nearly groaned as she flattened the front of her white combat kimono. "Are you going to cause Gudao as much trouble as France, then? I won't appreciate that. At all."

Joan ignored the insult and scoffed. She wasn't looking to start a verbal conflict, but since she was dragged into one... "Still falsely enamored over him?"

The berserker's frown increased. "It's not fake. I'd gladly fight through that dragon army again if he gave the word."

"Even clinging childishly to that lie, I see. I thought someone would chastise you about it, but it seems Chaldea is too good natured," she spat, knowing the fact well based on almost everyone's reactions to her. "Fine. I'll do it, so consider it a rare gift."

Kiyohime raised an eyebrow. "Trying to be like Hans? It's not going to work on me."

'Who's Hans?' she paused to think. Shaking her head, the alter simply continued. "You're delusional if you think Gudao would ever notice a clingy brat like you. A blind man could see your insecurities a mile away."

She visibly flinched, making the avenger smirk. "Oh? Did I hit a sore spot?"

Surprisingly, the berserker, who was adamant in her belief, seemed much more troubled than even Joan expected. She seemed closer to stuttering than lashing out in true anger. Nevertheless, her tongue danced with a threat. "Shut up before I force you to, fake Jeanne."

Joan's smirk faded. "Oh? And here I thought fighting in Chaldea wa-"

"Leave her alone!"

The avenger turned to see Tamamo jump between her and Kiyohime. The berserker looked as surprised as Joan, who quickly returned the glare from the newly arrived caster. Tamamo's teeth were grit in anticipation, her blue battle dress clearly shown beneath a white apron. Her fists were clenched at her sides, much like Joan's were as the glaring contest continued. While the tension between them grew, Kiyohime's faltered upon seeing how defensive Tamamo was being to her.

"Kiyohime's been having a terrible week! I don't care why, but I'm not letting some smug new arrival make it worse for my dear love rival!"

Joan groaned in annoyance. "Love rival?"

Upon seeing the tension, clear as day, Dantes groaned and quickly dashed towards them. He landed, nodding towards Tamamo and Kiyohime. "I apologize. Gudao wished to speak to me."

"Just get her out of here," Kiyohime growled, her anger finally overtaking her surprise.

Dantes nodded, motioning for Joan to follow him. With steadily boiling anger, she relented and began following after him. She glanced back to see Tamamo still glaring daggers at her, with a very clear message in her stance. "I'll be keeping my eye on you."

It was apparent none of these so-called gods and goddesses looked at her fondly, it seemed.

Joan groaned quietly to herself, causing Dantes to give her a small sideways glance. On the first day, she had already become distrusted by a servant she hasn't met before. Already it felt like coming to this place had been a mistake, and she silently started considering the idea of breaking the contract prematurely. There was the possibility of asking Medea to use her rule breaker on her like she tried to do during the French Singularity; Judging by the look she received from her during the tour of the Clothing Department, that caster likely wouldn't have any issues with it. At least Naomi seemed relatively nice to her.

With a small glance, she noticed Dantes had been studying her expression. She scowled. "It's impolite to stare, you know. You might get burned."

He shrugged. "There's trying, and succeeding. You will likely do neither. Now then, I'll show you other rooms."

Joan scoffed at the quickly diverted the subject. "Tell me that last room is only for relaxing and special occasions. I don't believe I'll reside there. Ever."

"It's where we have dinner every evening."

Any fires of hope were quickly being smothered, it seemed. "…I'll be skipping dinner then. It's not like we servants have to eat."

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Day two was not going much better than the first, but at least the combat readiness of Chaldea seems to have dropped. It was truly ironic, since the alter was the one on the defensive since her arrival. She found herself in the library that day, enjoying the relative silence and atmosphere of the room. While the looks received today weren't openly hostile, there was still a sense of wariness towards her. The short, blue haired caster in a suit seemed to be keeping an eye on her, as did the pink haired berserker that was cozied up to, what appeared to be, her human boyfriend. At least Shakespeare greeted her rather joyfully, though it seemed that was the usual for him.

She found herself with a book on different religions and beliefs, though she already knew most of this information thanks to the grail; Certain heroes were revealed through different religions, after all. She had recently browsed through certain sections of different views, noting the atrocities with mild interest as they fueled the flames of her distrust. How anyone could still believe in a deity after all their acts was questionable to her, but she was forged to think that way after all. Not that she would ever doubt that point, since it was clear to the avenger gods were the worst thing to happen to humanity.

Hans had noticed her browsing through the book, and his frown deepened. Many were aware of what she thought of religion and believers thanks to personal involvement in the singularity. As the gears in his head turned behind his eyes, it became apparent she may soon become another person that would receive his blunt analysis. With a furrowed brow, the caster unfolded his arms and began walking towards the lone avenger on the cou- A hand patted him on the head, making his eyes widen incredulously as Shakespeare laughed much louder than he should have behind the front desk.

"Stay. Good boy. I've got this," Dantes ordered as he returned his hand to adjust his red tie. It wasn't the living one that went with his battle attire, but the gray suit practically matched it perfectly, though the hat was missing.

Hans could only gape as Shakespeare laughed even louder, disturbing the few occupants of the library. "Exemplary! So much inspiration!"

"You should be the last person to have to keep their voice down," Hans growled out quietly, as the playwright's laughter subsided to appropriate levels.

Still he continued, in a much more hushed tone as the short caster approached in irritation. "Two avengers, brought together by fate itself! The male protects his abrasive and potentially traitorous love interest from the chastising words of the ever-harsh antagonist, who only wishes to tear her down! So much potential material!"

Hans rolled his eyes and groaned. "You are impossible sometimes."

Dantes passed the two casters a curious glance, not having paid any attention to their conversation, as he sat down across from Joan. She turned her gaze from the two in order to stare curiously at the avenger before her. He had never stated they would be meeting again, yet here he was, sitting across from her and eyeing the religious book in her hands. With a raised eyebrow, he met her stare with his own in silence. Rolling her eyes with a sigh, she closed the book and placed it onto the table a little loudly while mentally bracing for the worst. Thankfully the two casters were still bickering about Shakespeare's potentially new play.

He presented a teasing smirk. "...And here I thought you hated believers."

With narrowed eyes, she scoffed. "I do. They are the worst. Blinded sheep led by a deity that never existed to begin with."

"Ishtar and the Gorgon sisters would put up palpable resistance to that claim just by existing in these walls," he mused as he picked up the book, and instantly opened to the page she had previously been looking at. "Not even including the demi-gods that take residence here, of course. Nor the prideful existence of Ozymandias, who claims to be-"

"The Christian God is a lie that leads the weak. He abandons those who believe in him most, and fails to protect those who need his salvation," She interrupted, clearly annoyed by his blunt, factual input. "What kind of omnipotent being would do that to their devout followers? Why was I left to burn at the stake for simply following his word? I don't believe him, nor do I believe in anything."

He turned the pages in amusement, staring at the section she had been reading until his arrival. "Greek Mythology. A grand example of gods being directly involved in atrocious acts. By chance, are you only interested in affirming your thoughts?"

"You say that as if the others didn't commit sins of their own, as if their foresight and judgement is law to be followed by all save themselves," she growled quietly. Dantes studied her carefully as she folded her arms over her chest. She took the silence as an invitation to press on. "Surely you feel the same way, avenger… That the gods answer to no wishes or cries of help, simply allowing evil acts to run rampant for their pleasure."

"…I did. I was abandoned to the damnation of that prison. No one to liberate my soul, with only the hellish bars and ghastly groans as my eternal companion."

She narrowed her eyes but smirked. "And here I thought Chaldea had softened your vengeful fires."

"The fires burn... I have not changed from who I am. My saint graph will never deny my true existence, but what happened then and what I choose now are very different."

The alter scoffed. "You think a god gave you a second chance here?"

"It matters not if a deity thought to reconcile with this offering. I simply have the chance, and so I grasped it after weeks of tribulation and denial. God or no god, I am ultimately responsible for myself in the culmination, as are you. If there are those who are weak willed to believe a god will lead them, then there are also those who think they are helpless in their struggle."

Joan narrowed her eyes. "And what makes you think that? That I believe I'm helpless?"

Dantes simply closed the book and placed it gently on the table before them. He then stood up from his couch, but did not break eye contact. His gaze remained blank yet firm, while hers held defensive and stiff. "You said it yourself, Joan. You don't believe in anything… and that appears to be the real issue."

With a growl, she scowled as Dantes began walking away, but not before she could get a final word in. "Then you're saying I should truly believe in something? Something you've come to believe in?"

He stopped walking. "...Something I believe in, you say?"

She remained silent as he turned to her with a blank expression. The count nodded, "In that case, believe in yourself for once."

The Eternal Avenger left her dumbfounded as he walked away. He believed in her? Why, and for what reason after only knowing her for a day? She growled, clearly displeased at the statement, especially at its rather plain delivery. Most of Chaldea has already shown outright disinterest and skepticism involving her, yet her fellow avenger had taken the time out of his day to visit her after his mandatory tour. Not even the God she believed in seemed to take any notice of her, nor any direct belief she was worth something.

Yet he just said he did... and that made at least one person. Maybe her wish still had a chance.

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The alter dared to walk into the salon for another try, instantly noticing the holy maiden she was fabricated from accompanying Jack and Nursery Rhyme near the windows. Thankfully, Jeanne did not seem to notice, as she continued to sit on the couch with her hands on the hem of her blue floral, shirt dress. The two child servants wore matching black a-lines, complete with tiny bows in their hair that was likely Nursery Rhyme's doin-

Glass shattered against the ground, causing Joan to look over with a frown at having her thoughts interrupted. After spotting Gilles, standing in white pants and a silver cutaway jacket to match Marie's personal salon staff, her expression lightened. She stared at him, as he gaped back with wide eyes and shaking pupils. It seemed this was not the caster version she had seen before, and was silently glad about it. While she didn't mind greatly if he had been in his disgusting, homicidal killer form, she much preferred his untwisted saber side.

Gilles on the other hand, was having a panic attack on sight. He whispered to himself, but it sounded crazed. She couldn't make out the words, yet he grasped his skull like it would explode. Whatever echoed in his mind was causing him serious discomfort.

"Enough! Stop it! Stop!" He finally yelled against the whispers as he braced himself against the counter with one hand. His other clutched at his head as he groaned audibly.

Within an instant, Marie flew through the doors to the kitchen in a red sundress, flanked by D'Eon and Sanson in their salon uniforms. The two males immediately rushed to Gilles' side in support, ignoring the broken wine glass he had dropped. Marie looked on, before turning to look near the entrance aisle to spot the perceived culprit of the saber's sudden plight. Her eyes quickly narrowed, and she growled, accompanied soon after by Sanson and D'Eon upon seeing their former leader of madness.

"Joan! I was willing to give you a chance, but it's clear you're only here to cause problems!" Marie chided with clenched fists at her side.

"You best not think you can control us again," Sanson stated calmly, though his eyes remained critical.

D'Eon wore a similar expression. "Is this one of your new abilities as an avenger? How uncouth to use it so readily in a peaceful environment."

"Even Dantes never resorted to something this low at his worst! Well? Are you going to answer for your actions, Jeanne Alter!?" Sanson barked.

Joan seethed with barely contained anger. Now she was being outright accused of something she never did in the first place, just based on inflexible prejudice; Not that it was the first time this has happened. She presumed just like then, God was not about to step in and help her out of the situation. She scowled, knowingly left to the fiery gazes of her accusers, but this time she could fight back if necessary. But that was only if essential. As much as she loved the idea of burning a French countryman who hated her, thanks partially to a caster's hateful tampering, the words of Dantes echoed in her mind from the day before.

She scoffed. It was only the third day, and she had done nothing particularly wrong besides verbal spats which were only uncommon from what Dantes has revealed. With a final, quick glance at all the glares her fellow countrymen were giving her, she rekindled previous thoughts. If everyone was going to treat her like this, she might as well go back to the throne, and-

"Auntie Marie! Joan didn't do anything wrong!"

Like the others, her eyes grew wider as Jack and Nursery Rhyme came over to her side. They stood in support while Jeanne approached carefully, having eyed the scene clearly. Though she did not speak up, she watched Atalanta's adopted daughters curiously as they continued their unhesitant defense of the new arrival, making a show of standing in between her and the French servants. She crossed both arms across her dress, but observed with a blank expression from afar as Marie slowly approached them. The girls quickly complained over each other.

"She didn't do it!" "Gilles was just having another panic attack!" "Don't blame her!"

"Are you certain?" Marie asked politely from her stopped position. Joan's own glare softened, but her scowl remained clear.

"The girls are right, Madam Marie..." Gilles grunted out as he got back to his feet. It appeared he finally wrested the whispers back into the deepest recesses of his mind, at least temporarily, to hold a proper conversation. "I apologize for causing a scene, but it was my mental pollution acting up. Jeanne al- …Joan is innocent."

Silence passed in thought. Sanson and D'Eon looked to each other slowly and nodded. Their weapons dematerialized, and their expressions softened, though they remained visibly ready and wary. Marie sighed in relief, but also guilt. "...Then I must apologize for our actions and words as well. That situation was very poorly handled on our part. That was unacceptably rude of us as lounge hosts."

Joan, her scowl still in place, looked towards Marie. She still had a tense expression on her face that would not likely disappear, but she paid it no heed. The alter simply took on a blank look and shrugged. There was no need for words when so many have already been thrown like swords. Marie offered a very tiny smile and curtsied for the alter, before slowly turning around to walk towards her personal staff. Gilles, having recovered completely, was now helping to clean the broken glass from the floor. Jack and Nursery Rhyme looked up curiously at the alter, who gazed back with a blank expression.

"Are you okay? They said some hurtful things," Nursery Rhyme asked quietly. Joan didn't know what was worse: Taking the harsh accusation or being pitied by the child servant. She hated pity and mercy.

"I'm fine… but thank you…" She clicked her tongue in annoyance. Despite her current infuriation at what happened, she could at least be nice to children. "…It's clear I will not be accepted here for who I am. I am the polar opposite of your Jeanne, after all."

Nursery Rhyme simply blinked. "So? You're nice to us."

"…You can still play with us, right?" Jack asked innocently.

Unknowingly to the alter, Jeanne watched carefully from the distance as Joan looked conflicted. It was easy enough being indifferent, or gruff if necessary, to other servants, but the children were a different story. They had helped her out of a rather tense situation, and even wavered her impulsive thought to break the contract and fade away. But just because they did that did not mean she wished to play with them. Though it was curious that they didn't have the predisposition against her; Their youthful innocence should have been checked by the vast knowledge granted by the grail, and what they've learned from their experiences here.

It couldn't be denied they helped her, and that was far more than God had ever done for her in trying times. "Maybe another time… but not now."

She silently cursed herself. That was supposed to come out as a light denial, yet she left the door open. To her mortification, and appreciation if she were honest, they merely cheered and hugged her lower half. The gesture was uncomfortable to her, as she still seethed with the anger and vengeance within. But the little bit that mattered was overjoyed, even if she didn't wish to properly return their gesture. Instead, she very awkwardly patted their heads, though they didn't seem to care at how rough it was.

"Yay!" "Thank you!" "Can we call you Aunt Joan?" "We need to ask mother first." "Ah! We left Auntie Jeanne waiting!"

Though her eyes did not budge, her tension increased again after remembering she was in the room. She watched tentatively as the two girls waved goodbye to her before running towards their temporary babysitter. Joan looked over as Jeanne was practically engulfed with giggles as the two girls apologized profusely for leaving her care; They were full servants indeed, but it was evident they liked their new life as children that much better. Perhaps there was still the chance she could make something for herself here, but it still seemed a far distance away. Maybe she should accept one of Dantes' offers for lunch or a helpful mystic code.

While the saint was preoccupied, Joan quickly began leaving the salon in hopes of- "Joan!"

The alter froze in her place. With a quiet huff, she looked back towards the trio as they stared back at her. She felt the eyes of the French staff behind the bar watching curiously as well. Jeanne gazed back at her with a neutral expression, giving away nothing of how she felt. That was fine with the avenger, who knew exactly what she must be feeling right now about the twisted individual standing before her. One could only feel a certain way about their evil counterpart, after all.

"Don't say it, Jeanne. If it's really that difficult for you, then you don't have to do it you know?" She scowled towards her true self, as Jeanne suddenly frowned back. "You can think I don't exist, and I can just ignore you… That's fine by me. I'm used to being hated, by anyone and that so-called God."

Without waiting for a reply, the alter disappeared into spiritual form, drowning out any noise as she did to mentally have the final word. She did not hear or see Jeanne call out to her politely to wait, nor the disappointed expressions of the child servants flanking the holy maiden. With a small sigh, Jeanne simply took her charges by the hand and led them back to the sofa so they could color again. Even as she did, her attention seemed distance, as if she were focused on her unusual duplicate who now wandered tha halls.

The alter did not realize how clearly she showcased her beliefs that some would try to rectify.

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"Are you certain about this?"

"Now more than ever." Lancelot nodded his head towards his adopted daughter beside him. They continued walking in relative silence, the berserker adjusting the tie on his black suit as Mashu held Fou close to her chest. Her Chaldean uniform rustled a bit as Fou shifted within her arms to stare at the eyes of the two. Lancelot looked calm and resolute, but the shielder's eyes were full of worry. It was reasonable for her to feel this way, since this would be the first attempt of the Saint Graph Manipulation procedure.

It was all but theory before, but today would put it to the final test. Scathach was as confident as ever it would work so long as the prerequisites were met, which Lancelot had received during the summoning spree earlier that month. Arondight had arrived with a memorial essence, but one closer to its original form than the one he often drew. While it was possible to use newly acquired noble phantasms without adjusting the saint graph, the saber had publicly declared to go through with it after talking with the other knights. It was unknown to all what would be lost or acquired after the class container shift, but it did not appear to make him waver.

The same could not be said for Mashu. "You don't need to do this… You're already appreciated again."

"I understand there are risks, but I'm doing it more for both myself and the honor of my fellow knights. For you as well, Mashu."

The shielder chuckled softly. "I remember when you insisted you were more fitting as a berserker… I'm glad that view has changed."

"Kyuuuuu~"

Joan watched silently in spirit form, undetectable by both thanks to the cloak Dantes let her borrow. The mystic code was an improvement in design; It was a new invention, with vastly increased efficiency, created by Leonardo after it was encountered in the sixth singularity. It let her walk around like an assassin in spirit form, and she was not surprised to learn certain servants were not allowed to have one for… specific, undisclosed reasons. Contrary to what others' may believe, she did not use it in malice or to spy with ill intent.

She just found their conversation rather curious, and applicable to herself.

Lancelot, a berserker and shamed knight, had seemingly found acceptance and forgiveness from the rest of his knights for his actions. From what she had overheard in their walk, he was worried about his mad enhancement acting up again, and wished to remedy it completely. To her, the most interesting bit was learning others had come to accept him for who he was, regardless of his past heinous crimes and actions. Even with unanswered questions, it gave her a small kindling of hope someone might care about the French avenger.

It puzzled her how something could have come to pass, but she could not ask directly lest she reveal her actions and draw more scrutiny; The suspicious glances she was constantly getting were irritating enough without being intensified. But out of her curiosity, she slowly continued to walk after them while maintaining an acceptable distance. They turned the corner ahead, and she increased her pace so she could conti-

"I lent you the cloak to lighten the weight of glares, not to eavesdrop on personal affairs."

With a tiny scowl, she materialized and turned to face Dantes. He wore a slightly amused expression, evident by his small smirk, as he stared directly at his fellow avenger. Joan sighed and took the cloak off, thankful he had been quiet enough not to alert the two individuals walking towards the Summoning Chamber. "How did you even find me?"

"It's my personal cloak, bound to my vengeful form by the manipulation of Medea and Hans. It is a requirement of the masters to prevent the acquisition by a select few… namely Edward Teach."

She scoffed. "So an infamous pirate is allowed to roam freely without judgement, yet I can't?"

Dantes chuckled. "He receives judgement for his "raids," but not of the variety and nature you are undoubtedly discerning. It is quite theatrical."

Joan raised an eyebrow, but Dantes switched the topic quickly. "Returning to the matter at hand… I see you've found an interest in the formerly fallen knight?"

"A berserker and shamed knight of the round… He's undergoing some sort of procedure?"

"They're attempting the first class change. If all sails smoothly, he will arise with a saber class container and a slightly different material body."

"I see… and he isn't doing it to be accepted?"

The Count of Monte Cristo shook his head, visibly amused at what she was silently inferring; She scowled upon realizing he had caught on, as usual. With a growl, she looked away and thought about the rather pleasant revelation. Thankfully, it seems even she had a chance if one of the fallen members of the round could find re-acceptance among his peers. However, the fall of Camelot, and being the culprit of two separate singularities, one being a major timeline shattering incident, was a different beast altogether. Perhaps most would not allow her that opportunity. Maybe she was destined to live as the dark shadow of the true holy maiden…

"You are still adamant on ignoring the invitation?"

…Perhaps that door had been held open to her the entire time by her fellow avenger. She paused, and turned to look at him. Casually, she took off the cloak and presented it to the avenger. He took it before she continued to stand in silence, silently pondering. Dantes hid his inner satisfaction, but she could almost see it. There was no doubt he knew something, or maybe even something she didn't want him to know; Had he been watching her that carefully? It bothered her, but she was comforted that he was rather determined to help her.

"I said I'd only think about it... but I believe I can at least see what this is all about."

Dantes chuckled, and he smirked as if he knew everything.

---

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---

Morning of the fourth day had been uneventful, but that was because she kept to her room most of the time. It wasn't until noon that Dantes had come to take her to lunch for the first time. She half expected him to start asking whether she ordered any dresses or furniture as small talk, which she still did neither, but was content with his respect for her desired silence. That was at least one promising note for once, since the idea of being constantly irritated with the individual next door was not the greatest thought.

With the currently ongoing construction to expand the residence capacity for servants, she was left with the room next to Dantes. In truth, as the last summon until renovation was complete, she had the option of a few other rooms, but Gudao thought her current placement was better. She would not argue that point, as the remaining rooms were closer to the French and British sections, and she did not want to be dealing with them as much as possible. It was also a little comforting knowing someone who didn't outright judge her was in an adjacent room, especially since he had been rather accepting of her without condition.

Her thoughts fell silent, as did the cafeteria as they entered for lunch. All eyes were upon them, or more specifically her, though she took a little comfort that no servant was in their battle attire. They simply watched quietly as Dantes led her towards their intended destination, with the tense silence slowly being replaced by murmurs. It finally returned to usual business as they sat down with Nightingale and Beowulf. The two were the only ones wearing their battle attire, after having just come back from the training grounds for a small spar.

"Ah, so we meet her at last," Beowulf stated with a small smirk. Joan watched him curiously, with a small scowl, while he simply chuckled. "Shame you didn't come to dinner last night, Joan. The salmon was amazing."

"Yes, well, it's all trivial to me... I'd rather avoid these annoying glares," She responded while returning a scowl directed at her by a casually dressed Lord El-Melloi II. Little did she know, that was the usual for him.

"You won't be saying that after you had your first meal in the salon," Nightingale injected as she speared her salad with a fork. "We have not properly introduced yet… I am Florence Nightingale, and this is Beowulf."

"And you clearly know who I am, so I will not bother." To her slight surprise, Nightingale didn't even care while Beowulf merely chuckled again.

Dantes stood up and looked to his fellow avenger. "Do you want anything?"

She shook her head dismissively. "Not at the moment... I'd rather these bothersome glances stop instead."

"Oh?" Beowulf noted with a growing smirk. Joan looked at him in confusion as Nightingale began laughing.

Dantes swiftly groaned. "Can you at least wait a day before-"

"The maiden here is still new, and so we must be polite and abide by her request. We are heroes, and she is in distress," he proclaimed with dripping exaggeration, making Nightingale laugh harder in his theatrical approach.

Joan scowled. "Don't make me burn you! I am not some damsel that needs to be pamp-"

"That's the worst excuse yet you've used to start this up…" The male avenger chuckled as Beowulf eyed the pie in front of him mischievously. Joan, still scowling at the insinuation, could only watch as the man picked up the full pie and stood up, instantly stealing the glares from nearby tables. The various reactions were amusing, to say the least. Even Joan found her scowl fading.

"Beowulf, don't you dare!" "We just had one last week!" "Oh hell no!" "Think of the children!" "Don't throw that food, Beowulf!" "I'm too young to pie!"

Joan could only watch in disbelief at what was occurring. Beowulf, standing there pridefully while casually tossing the pie in one hand, continued to snicker as more and more people noticed his intentions. He turned to look at Joan with a raised eyebrow, which she returned with an incredulous stare. Was he really about to start some sort of fight? He chuckled, while Nightingale looked around the room. "Well… what shall we do?"

"Duck," Nightingale ordered as she hid underneath the table. Before she could protest, Joan was quickly dragged under by Dantes.

"Open fire!" Tyler yelled as he hurled an orange rather weakly. A preemptive strike of various food was soon hurtling towards Beowulf.

The berserker, completely caught off guard by the sudden coordinated strike, was nailed by several pieces of food at the same time. Orange, bananas, and even an entire, double layered cake from Iskandar was sent sailing into the berserker who was too flabbergasted to actually dodge properly, even if his instincts screamed to. The resounding laughter that filled the cafeteria was followed by a round of applause as the scarred man casually placed his pie back onto the now messy table to wipe his face of debris.

Joan placed herself back in the seat, thankful it had somehow avoided collateral damage. She stared in surprise as Beowulf chuckled and sat down, wiping his bare torso and arms of the projectile food. A robot quickly hovered over, allowing Joan to get a closer study of the strange machine, as it began cleaning the table of the fallout. To Nightingale's and Dante's entertainment, it soon turned the vacuum onto the servant himself as he audibly protested. A second soon joined. The robots' protocol won out, and they proceeded to run the nozzles over the entire berserker to clean him off.

After they hovered away, Beowulf was soon chuckling as Joan stared at him. He looked to her and smirked, "Well, at least I got the glares off of you… Glad you finally decided to sit with us?"

"What makes you say that?"

His smirk only increased. "You didn't notice you're smiling?"

Dantes and Nightingale watched in amusement as Joan realized she actually was, albeit a small one. It soon vanished, replaced by shock and slight embarrassment. She could not argue, after the initial confusion wore off, that she enjoyed the scene Beowulf had caused. It was a unique sort of anarchy, and not one she expected from such a Heroic King. But he did it, and it was for her benefit even though they had just met. Taking a small glance around, she even noticed much less people than before were glaring at her. If anything, a few had turned their attention to Beowulf as a precaution in case he'd retaliate.

Dantes stood up beside her, making the alter look towards him once more. "Now that the usual theatrical escapades are over… Ready to get some food?"

She paused for a few seconds. With a hint of newfound enthusiasm, she nodded and stood up. Dantes smirked at the progress.

---

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---

Joan would never admit it, but the food at dinner really was phenomenal. If this is what conserving magical energy tasted like, she would be happy to continue doing so. She speared part of her appetizer as she curiously eavesdropped on the conversation behind her. Initially uninterested, she became more curious when it appeared Ishtar was the one sitting behind her. Though these particular booths were tall enough to prevent visuals, the sound carried around and over just fine.

The archer took another bite of the lobster stuffed mushrooms, clearly impressed by the sound she made. It was a common compliment to Emiya, who was sitting across from her in a three-piece suit with the jacket placed on the hanger. Arturia sat beside him in a simple blue halter dress, matching his tie perfectly. Both of their hairs were down, though well kept, while the goddess before them opted for a golden strapless. Her long, black hair flowed down her black elegantly, as she gently placed the fork down onto the plate.

"Now then… you wish to speak of the human whose body I currently possess, correct?"

"Yes. Rin was a dear friend of ours," Arturia responded evenly. Joan had been made aware of the situation by Dantes after she overheard a few employees gossiping about it. Both Arturia and Emiya had been initially excited at the thought Rin had joined them within the walls, only for that hope to be shattered upon actually talking with the goddess. It seemed Ishtar was rather open and approachable compared to the stories about her. The two appeared to remain hopeful for her friend, but the avenger's anger was rising.

Joan gripped her fork a little tighter at her initial, unsympathetic comment. Her brooding only grew worse, as the angry fires boiled within. This goddess had, likely by force she mused, taken over a human host in order to manifest. Once more, the omnipotent beings were showing their real colors, even if her tone did not sound like it. With slightly narrowed eyes, which Dantes noticed, she continued to listen to the conversation behind her, waiting for an opportunity to happily chastise an insufferable deity.

"I understand what I have done affects the two of you personally, as you have made me aware," Ishtar began before sipping on her glass of wine. With a small smile, she indicated she enjoyed that as well, but it soon faded. "But I will not apologize for it. Our personalities have merged, even though I retain control. I cannot allow someone beneath me to wield the strength that only I know how, nor would my pride ever accept such a concept."

Emiya narrowed his eyes, as did Arturia. Unknown to them, so did Joan as she cursed the deity mentally. Of course they would do this of their own choosing and accord. Why would they ever apologize about anything they did? She, and likely Jeanne too, certainly didn't get any formal apology from the deity they so devoutly listened to, even as they were led to death and resentment. Why would Ishtar be any differe-

"However, because of the merging, I am obviously not the same goddess the stories make mention of, as I'm sure you clearly see. I would have been a lot more… aggressive… in dealing with your opinion. I'm not, because it no longer feels… right, I guess you humans would say."

Arturia and Emiya looked to each other curiously as Ishtar took another sip before continuing. "I have only scattered pieces of this… Rin Tohsaka's memories due to the unity. From what pieces of you two appear, you obviously meant a lot to her, as she did to you. Therefore, I am willing to make a compromise."

"Goddess Ishtar. What do you mean?" Arturia began slowly. The saber had apparently had already dealt with an indifferent divine spirit in the latest major singularity, so she likely braced for something irrational. Joan was trying hard not to say anything against the deity.

To their surprise, the goddess smiled. "Truthfully, I feel rather comfortable talking to you, and I wish to learn a bit more about this host, Rin Tohsaka. Since our personalities merged, I am not able to do so directly… however, you two have had direct experiences with her."

Emiya remained visibly skeptical. "And what makes this a compromise if you're only questioning us to sate your curiosities? I don't commit to one-sided deals."

She chuckled as she sipped her wine once more. "So many forward personalities in this place, even in the presence of true, ancient divinity… You Chaldeans never cease to fascinate me…"

Ignoring her comment, they waited in anticipation, as did Joan who was now blissfully unaware her tablemates were watching her eavesdrop. "Normally I only wish to be called by my proper title and name, but when you two first approached me a few days ago… I found being called Rin or Tohsaka was rather pleasant coming from you. I guess this human really does have more influence on my outlook than just my temperament."

"...You will let us call you by her name?"

"It does not bother me, so you two may have this sole privilege as a kind gesture to my host, which may be extended if there appear to be others with similar circumstances. I will also willingly converse with you whenever you wish, especially after I learn the full details of what this human meant to you both. However, be warned... do not expect me to act exactly like her. I have my pride as a true goddess, Ishtar of Mesopotamia, that naturally comes first."

The couple exchanged knowing glances, clearly amused that even if the goddess was in control, bits of Rin's personality still shined through. It could easily be argued that Ishtar's compatibility with Rin simply meant it was her personality, but by her revelations it was clear Tohsaka did not merge without her usual fight. They smiled to each other, visibly showcasing the situation just got more acceptable even if it wasn't exactly how they wished it would be.

"That's as far as I will go for others. You will understand I shall go no further… Emiya-kun and Saber?" She tested curiously, finding the nicknames rolled off her tongue quite naturally. They smiled brighter like she did. "Yes… That was not as uncomfortable as I thought it might be. It appears I have names for you as well… Now then, Emiya-kun, what food offering have you and the cooks prepared for the goddess this evening?"

Dantes smirked as Joan's eyes had widened in total surprise. A goddess had willingly conceded ground for the human host she possessed. With control, she could have easily decided to go against everything and act as she pleased, even if the host protested against such acts. Her decision to follow the peaceful route surprised her, but would do nothing to restore her faith in divine beings. They had still committed terrible acts… but then again, so did humans. What it did do, however, was reaffirm her belief that if a goddess was willing to cede ground, perhaps she could make headway with others in the future. Yes, she certainly had a chance here.

"Enraptured by that conversation?" Dantes asked quietly, making sure the goddess wouldn't potentially overhear. She didn't.

Joan groaned. "I'll set you aflame if you push that point…"

Nightingale and Beowulf chuckled as Dantes rolled his eyes. "That threat is losing its edge, Joan."

---

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---

The alter was already feeling better the next morning, finding satisfaction in strolling around Chaldea while not in spirit form. She would still get the occasional look, but all the glances have since lost their edge during the past day. As irritating as it was, their reactions would never depress her. She only felt anger towards being held to a perception that she, admittedly, set in France due to her atrocities. Then again, it was understandable considering the weight of her sins. Still, the growing belief she finally had a chance of being accepted was not lost to her, and she didn't have to change to make it possible.

It seemed the building was finally getting used to the idea she was not here to start trouble, which was a small relief to her. What she didn't realize, was now that the tension was dropping once more, the servant population was likely to start acting how they usually do. For all, it was just a simple matter of living the lives they wished within the safety of the walls. To some, the manner at which they lived was far more interesting than she could ever imagine. Thankfully, she didn't have to do any creative thinking, since it was very likely she would learn firsthand-

"Run, Jekyll!" Mordred laughed as she sped down the hallway in her usual white tube top coupled with jeans. She was dragging Jekyll by the hand, the assassin's formal attire marred by damp spots and snow much like his friend was.

"How did I let you talk me into that!?" the doctor groaned loudly as Mordred's laughter echoed down the halls as they passed.

From her spot at the corner, waiting like a truck trying to turn at an intersection, she watched the pair pass in disbelief. A robot was soon following after them, using its vacuum and thermal emitter attachments to clean the floors of their wet trail. As it passed, she slowly turned the corner and began walking down the way they came, silently pondering what she just witness-

"It's not what you think! It's not what you-" An unmanly scream echoed from around the next corner, freezing all employees in the hallway as the floor began rumbling. "Oh shiver me timbers! It'sNotWhatYouThink-! SOMEONE SAVE ME!"

Blackbeard rounded the corner with total fear in his eyes. Jeans blurred as he ran while his loose, Black Flag T-shirt rustled with the air as he dashed towards Joan. She stepped to the side, eyeing him warily as he shot a pleading look towards her. Her eyebrow raised in confusion as he passed in a full sprint, only for Heracles to round the same corner in battle attire; So that's what the rumbling was about. Since weapons were banned from use within the halls, the large berserker chased after him with a poor robot as a makeshift club.

"Kind sir, please release my appendages so I may continue cleaning protocols." The robot's mundane response was met with a roar as Heracles closed in on a screaming Blackbeard.

Joan stared in disbelief as yet another servant rounded the corner, this time flying and appearing to be dressed as some sort of fairy? Illya chased after Heracles with panic in her eyes and Ruby gripped tightly in her hand as she flew past like a fighter aircraft. Joan stared after the girl in disbelief as her voice echoed down the halls.

"Berserker! Don't hurt Eddy! He was just giving me a headpat for the drawing I made for him!"

Joan stood there in total silence as they disappeared further away. Employees remained in their spots, just as confused, as the alter began slowly walking again. With her brain trying to figure out what kind of absurdities this place held, a final servant turned the corner. To her relief, this child seemed relatively calm about the entire situation, as Kuro casually licked her triple scooped ice cream cone of various flavors. She meandered slowly, careful not to spill any drips onto her red tank top or jean shorts, but eyed Joan curiously as she approached. The saint was thankful there was no hint of judgment.

"Did my sister, a creepy bearded pirate, and a two-and-a-half-meter tall Greek demi-god run this way?" the archer asked casually.

Still bewildered, Joan could only point down the hallway. Kuro nodded, "Thanks. I should probably catch up to them."

A yell echoed down the hallway, followed by a vicious roar and more of Illya's attempts to placate the berserker. Kuro simply licked her frozen treat and giggled, "...or it's too late... Oh well."

Joan blinked. 'This is the real Chaldea...? What kind of wild menagerie am I trying to be a part of?'

---

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---

Beowulf chuckled as he swung Hrunting with considerable strength, using it in a way he never would have imagined in his previous life. The shockwave that followed the blade slammed into a bank of snow, sending it airborne to be caught by the wind. The gust carried it away, revealing a piece of the walkway that connected the training grounds to the facility. While specialized robots were usually the ones to clear the paths on a twice daily basis, today's situation called for some more serious help.

While Mordred had become significantly friendlier after having her real desire made into a reality, that only served to increase her overflowing confidence. It didn't help occasionally hanging out with her newfound gamer friends only encouraged her to be the excited saber she was. To Arturia's vexation this day, that meant dragging Jekyll to the top of the mountain to join her as she tried out snowboarding. This was not something she needed to deal with a day before a planned deployment. It didn't help she learned about it in a tiny documentary about similar sports, causing her to combine that with surfing.

The resulting avalanche would have taken forever for the robots to clear alone, so servants were needed. Thankfully, the facility was not hit by the wave of snow, even if its reinforced shell would have prevented any damage; Clearing the facility's roof would have just been more hassle. With that in mind, Nightingale volunteered their group at lunch without listening to their opinions, as usual, though the two men didn't mind since they were used to her antics. The alter did not like being voluntold, and was absent from the afternoon task… initially. She walked towards the group of battle clad servants with a blank expression.

"Astounding. You actually appeared for mundane errands," Dantes chuckled with a small smirk.

"Don't push your luck, Dantes." Joan shook her head and rolled her eyes as she approached, arms crossed in front of her battle attire as her cape blew in the wind. Snow stuck to her dark cloth as it did the others' combat clothing. With a huff, she proved she did not look particularly pleased, but that did not change the fact she had actually appeared. Whether she was going to actually help or watch, they could only guess. It seemed the latter at first, as she stared towards Nightingale further up the bank as she swiftly punched and kicked unusual paths through the snow. She was nowhere near the pathway that still needed to be cleared.

She raised an eyebrow, and her voice. "Wasting time while the men do the work?"

Nightingale wasn't affronted in the least. "The child servants may want to play in a maze today, so I am starting to make one for them."

Joan clicked her tongue. 'Two are already playing with a berserker, last I saw them…'

"She did the first quarter and suddenly got that idea," Beowulf explained as he swung his blade again, causing a second shockwave to clear the next ten meters. "We should be finished within the next hour at this rate."

Joan huffed, then walked down the path towards Beowulf and Dantes. The male avenger finished a burst of dashes, clearing another few meters before watching the alter curiously. With a blink, he appeared at her side as Beowulf took the cue to move as well. The berserker looked on as Joan drew her sword, igniting it swiftly in fire before quickly slashing the air in front of her. A searing inferno rocketed forward, catching Nightingale's attention as the attack flew down the presumed pathway, melting the snow quickly. As the flames subsided, even the tops of rock could be seen between the sizzling metal grates of the path.

Sheathing her sword, she smirked towards the two men. "Your methods are a little lackluster. I find it more appealing to incinerate every last trace of it."

If they were impressed or unnerved, it wasn't obvious. Beowulf only shrugged and grinned. "If it gets the job done faster, I'm not complaining."

Nearly twenty minutes later, even with Nightingale still happily working on the maze for the children, the trio had cleared the entire path, allowing the utility robots to do the finishing touches with their thermal emitters. As they proceeded to thaw the remaining ice, and any other finishing touches, Joan stared into the snow filled sky. Slowly her eyes glazed as she envisioned a different place as the speckles fell onto her face. Soon she was no longer among cleaning robots and new acquaintances, but the day God abandoned her.

The falling snow reminded her of the ashes that flew around her that day, and her frown deepened. She felt the flames on her face once more, scorching her body. She did not feel the cold of the mountains any longer as the crackling of wood and demeaning cries echoed into her ears. No one had been there to save her, and no one even bothered to try. Not a single person in that crowd believed she was worth anything to them. They had been content, like their God, to watch the saint burn for everything she had don-

She was shaken into reality by a snowball slamming into the side of her head, quickly followed by laughter. With a growl, she glared towards the offending servant as Beowulf held his exposed torso to try and calm himself. "What was that for!?"

"You looked far too serious after playing with snow," he grinned and crossed his arms.

Joan glared. "And that's reason enough to pelt me with a snowba-"

She was hit by another one, this time from Dantes as he casually rolled up another in his hands. She eyed his smirk as it grew. "Oh? I did not realize you had been talking, Joan. My mistake. Please accept my humblest apologies."

While Beowulf laughed, Joan slowly began to smirk. She reached down and grabbed a handful of snow for herself. Though she was interested in revenge, it was clear she would have to fight fire with fire; The idea of burning the closest people she had to friends in Chaldea was not ideal. Quickly, she rolled up the ball as Beowulf dodged a shot from Dantes. After prepping her round, she quickly hurled it at the count who instantly caught it. With a quick spin, he took to the air and struck Beowulf's backside.

"Thanks for the ammunition," he snickered before quickly dashing behind a robot to use as a shield. It intercepted an attack from Nightingale, using her new maze like a war trench.

Discontent that she had been countered, she began rolling up more snowballs while dodging ones thrown her way. She found herself chuckling as a ball slammed against her black cape, sticking to the fabric as it blew in the wind. With a spin, she hurled a few towards Nightingale who was too preoccupied dodging Dantes to notice. She was pelted by two of them, before turning towards the female avenger with a mischievous smile. Before she could figure out why, Beowulf's snowball had impacted the back of her neck, sending bits of snow down the back of her armor. The melting snow made it uncomfortable, but she simply smirked at Beowulf as he laughed.

"I'll get you for that one!"

As he was pelted by the trio, who had now ganged up on him, he began casually working on a pile of snowballs. Dantes would occasionally appear next to him and steal one, only to smack it against his backside to the amusement of the other two. It was only after he hurled a shotgun round worth of projectiles at Dantes, forcing him to dodge, that his real plan was revealed. After two precision throws towards the male avenger, getting pelted by Joan the whole time, Nightingale changed targets to focus him, making him blindly begin dodging-

Only to be slammed by a boulder-sized clump of packed snow sent hurtling by Beowulf, thankful for the sudden opening provided by Nightingale. The howling berserker roared with satisfaction over the winds as Nightingale joined him in laughter, the pair watching as Dantes brushed the abundant amount of snow that now clung to his battle attire. But the avenger was also chuckling after being caught by his friend's instinctive throw. To the trio's pleasure, it was clear Beowulf's instinctive action had worked.

Joan was laughing with them, thoroughly distracted from her thoughts. As she calmed down, she also realized what they had done for her, and she smirked at them with a shake of her head. It was returned with two nods and a hearty laugh from Beowulf. The group was doing a lot to make her feel welcome and accepted without condition, and she had to admit it was working. A week since she arrived, and she finally felt comfortable among the walls with possible friends looking out for her best inter-

Nightingale laughed loudly as her snowball slammed right into the center of Joan's face.

---

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---

"Stunning dress. Glad you're not thinking about leaving anymore."

"You three, and a few others, are to blame."

Dantes scooched over on his favorite couch in the salon to allow space for the female avenger to sit. She accepted the offer, smoothing the back of her black, halter dress with crossing, thick back straps. She sat down gently before crossing one leg over the other and joining her companion in staring at the gently falling snow. The blizzard had lightened today, and made for a nice scene compared to conditions two days ago as they cleaned the walkway.

The male avenger sat to the side, wearing just a gray dress shirt tucked into black formal pants and covered with a matching vest. The collar was popped, and there was no tie in sight as he casually sipped from a glass of water. He quietly examined her short hair, noting it was likely far easier to clean than Jeanne's longer, flowing river. It was clear, even if she only had her battle attire for most of the week, she had been at least taking advantage of her Chaldean room's fairly luxurious shower. If anything, he appeared glad she seemed to find her place; She was just as content.

Whatever Gudao and the others convinced her of in their last singularity, it had truly sped up the process. She cleared her throat. "So this is where you sit every afternoon?"

"Usually. I find it relaxing."

Joan slowly nodded her head as time passed in comfortable silence. Dare she say, she liked the view and the quiet company. Dantes proved to be an interesting friend, as she now felt comfortable enough to call him. However, there were still some things that bothered her that she simply couldn't let go. While her attempts at small talk to ease into it failed, she didn't care. It would have been easier than just dropping the subjects onto him, but with the relative privacy and quiet, she felt no better time than now to find answers.

"...Why were you looking out for me so often?" She quietly wondered if it was because he was interested in her. From bringing him into his little group of friends, to keeping the peace whenever someone would try to start an argument with her, she had to admit Dantes did a fine job of being a watchful individual.

Without turning to look at her, while she stared at him, he answered plainly, "Initially? Because we are the same, yet different."

She frowned. "So you only did it because I was an avenger?"

"It was only part of the reason. I convinced the masters to allow me to be your vengeful tour guide so you may feel more comfortable around someone with a similar disposition and circumstance. I was not forced to accompany you, rather I chose to do so against the masters' wishes out of rare concern."

Joan paused, recognizing his admittance that it wasn't for the master's safety, but rather his own choosing to accompany her the first day. Still, the conversation had much more to reveal to her. "Circumstance… Chaldea hated you too on your first summoning?"

"No. Rather, most came to despise me for my coarse inquiries... not that I blame them." He sipped his water before he finally looked towards her. "I was confused why some chose to put aside their precious hatred. Such compromise was a blasphemous notion, and still partly is… Boudica and a few others still would rather avoid me, even if they retain civility when we must collaborate. But that happened due to my own actions... You, who were just summoned, were initially distrusted by nearly everyone."

She scoffed. "So you felt bad for me because I fell into your previous position? How kind… but I don't need mercy. I don't need pity either."

"Call it what you wish, but I gave you what you needed… a chance."

Joan studied him curiously as he looked back out the window and continued. "Nightingale and Beowulf gave me my chance after I nearly shattered all hopes. I simply sought to do the same for you, because I know what it's like to be abandoned… only to find someone still cared enough in the end. One was enough."

Falling silent, Joan stared out the window with Dantes. Thinking back on it, he had actually given her the chance where most would not. Even with Gudao occasionally asking how she was adapting, and Gabrielle's apology and endeavor to do the same, she felt fairly unwanted. It was a welcome change, especially as the hatred burned within her heart. Her vengeance would continue to smolder, much like it probably did for Dantes, but at least now there were those who honestly cared.

For once, she finally understood things a little better. As chaotic as this place could be sometimes, at least she could accept that over everyone's initial distrust. She had found what she needed most, as an answer to her insecurities involving Jeanne was revealed to her. It appears, even with her countless atrocities holding her back, there were still those who welcomed her. She didn't need to create ideal personalities, since she now had genuine friends who were interested in her well-being.

Her craving to be wanted by someone, her sort of wish, was close to being answered. She had friends who accepted her, and maybe genuinely wanted by them as well. Perhaps her insecurities ran deeper than she thought if she still questioned it, but it was still too soon. With the passing of time, she felt a new possibility that maybe her absurd uncertainties would also fade away. Maybe she was being far too optimistic, but compared to the solitude and endless glares, she would be fine grasping that rope.

But there were still other curiosities puzzling her. "You've made it clear you care to an extent… but are you also responsible for the others' being kinder?"

Dantes looked to her blankly. "What do you mean?"

Joan blinked. "You? Beowulf? Nightingale? None of you are responsible for the sudden civility towards me by a number of servants? Sanson and Marie gave me a complimentary drink of my choosing last night and genuinely wished me a pleasant evening."

"Ah… I know the answer to that inquiry," Dantes began as he set his drink down with an amused smirk. He turned to Joan as she raised an eyebrow impatiently for the answer. He chuckled. "You're not going to believe me."

"I don't believe, remember?"

"That's a lie, since you believe in yourself a little more now, am I wrong?"

She turned away in annoyance and embarrassment, obviously having been caught. "Just say it already... You're irritating me."

"Very well," Dantes chuckled once more as he picked his drink up again. "Jeanne was the one who convinced them to give you another chance."

Her head snapped so fast to him, he was a bit concerned she would have killed herself on the spot. He chuckled as she stared in confusion. "Her!? Why!?"

The Count of Monte Cristo sipped his drink with a content smirk. "That's something you need to ask her yourself."

---

¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨(¯ˆ·.¸ XIII ¸.·ˆ¯)¨·..·¨·..·¨·..·¨

---

"I wonder how Arty is liking her country..."

"Did you say something, Auntie Jeanne?"

"Ah, no. Just mumbling to myself," she giggled. Jeanne found herself babysitting Atalanta's children once more, since she and Irisviel were still deployed on a minor singularity. There was no real urgency or threat, and the singularity was proving rather tame at recent reports. It was simple enough that some of the team members were doing present shopping since it was during the seventies in England. There was no doubt she would have enjoyed her friend's reactions, but she was clearly content for keeping the kids company in the gymnasium.

With a slow exhale, Jack held the basketball in her hands and looked back at the net behind her. She dribbled the ball in front of her a few times as Nursery Rhyme and Jeanne sat in front of her to watch. While the two girls wore their matching gym shorts and shirt, Jeanne opted for a comfortable white sweater with matching sweatpants. She waited patiently as Jack exhaled one last time… before she suddenly bolted into the air, back flipping three times as she arced towards the net. With a fourth and final flip, she held the ball out for her creative dunk-

Only to find she miscalculated and wound up falling into the net herself. The ball unceremoniously released through her hands, having gone through the net to leave the assassin flailing her legs while upside down. Nursery Rhyme doubled over in laughter while Jeanne quickly stood up in concern. "Jackie, are you alright!?"

"We think?" she replied, letting her old pronoun habit slipping through. The assassin attempted to pull herself out- She fell in her further and pouted. Jeanne was now giggling with Nursery Rhyme.

"Help, Alice!" Jack frowned at her adopted sister, who only continued to laugh. After getting her fit under control, with a small spell for boost, she jumped up to the net to help pry her sister free.

"Stop flailing, Jackie!" she complained with a groan. "Sheesh. I might have to cut the net!"

Jack's eyes widened. "Don't! Mommy will have to replace it!"

As the two girls continued to bicker, Jeanne felt eyes upon her as she was about to help them. She slowly turned around, her eyes widening to see Joan approaching her slowly. Their similar interests in clothing showed, since she wore the same exact top and bottom design as Jeanne did, except her variation was jet black. To her surprise, the alter looked at her blankly as she approached, but there was a bit of uncertainty in her step. She did a great job of hiding it, though the worry on employees and servants around the outskirts of the gymnasium was far more apparent.

"Jeanne."

"Joan..." The saint replied evenly to her alter. "I thought you just wanted to ignore me."

Her eyes narrowed. "It isn't that simple after what you've done."

The holy maiden sighed. "...Someone told you then."

The paler woman crossed her arms, glancing for a brief second towards the struggling children on the basketball net. "Dantes did… But why the hell would you do something like that? My existence contradicts everything you are. You should hate me outright, not help!"

"You're not openly trying to kill me, are you?" Jeanne decided to tease to lighten the mood. To her visible relief as she smiled, Joan shook her head.

"It makes no sense to me," Joan pushed with slight irritation. "I'm your exact opposite! You believe God has never forsaken you. That you're a single prayer to the lord, and a follower of his word."

"God hasn't forsaken you either."

"Like hell he hasn't! He left us to the flames, yet you so willingly choose to believe otherwise…" she grumbled with malice in her eyes. "But this isn't about him. This is about you and me, and why you seem to be so accepting of who I am regardless of what I did… We were serious enemies!"

"As were many in these halls, but most get along fine now," she mused as she stared a Jack. The little assassin and her mother in particular were prime examples of that. "I believe in the good of all people, Joan. You made it clear, even if you are a fabrication or a false existence, even if we've fought… that you're a real person who just wants to be accepted. I saw it best in past days how you carried yourself and acted. Those weren't the decisions of a malicious servant, even if your words are sharp."

Joan narrowed her eyes as Jeanne realized what she revealed. "...You were spying on me?"

"I-I guess I was…" she stuttered with a faint blush. Behind her, Nursery Rhyme had almost gotten Jack untangled from the net. "Not very saintly, I know… Marie hasn't been the greatest influence on me."

To her surprise, Joan chuckled. "You see me very differently than what I assumed, so I shouldn't be surprised."

Jeanne smiled softly. "Even if you believe God doesn't exist, I feel he still acknowledges you. From what I see, he's blessed you with your presence here. He's blessed me with this interesting life as well."

"He never blessed me with anything except misfortune… I'm just a corrupted servant who got lucky."

Jeanne frowned in sympathy and slight disappointment as Jack and Nursery Rhyme tumbled to the ground in a heap with small whimpers behind her. Thankfully they were servants, though the bouncy mats setup previously also helped. Instead of any worrying noises, they simply bounced on the makeshift trampoline before their giggles overcame them. Jeanne looked towards them and chuckled, while Joan looked on blankly.

No. She couldn't believe in god no matter how much anyone tried to convince her, even her true self. It was fundamentally impossible because of who she was made to be, and the container that holds her to the avenger class. Silently, she acknowledged she didn't need to believe in anything of the sort though. There were those who were willing to believe in her anyway, regardless of how absurd the situation was. Jeanne somehow believed in her, as did Dantes. Beowulf and Nightingale likely did too along with Gudao, and also Gabrielle. With that, she could be content; She didn't need a god.

But fate had better ideas in mind as the sisters scurried over to the two saints. "Jeanne! Joan! Can we play hide and seek?"

Jeanne smiled happily towards them, putting her hands on her knees to lean down to their level. "Of course! How about we invite Kuro and Illya to play too? The more the merrier!"

Their eyes lit up, and even Joan found herself with a tiny smile at the sight. "Jackie! Race you to them!"

As soon as she suggested it, Jack was already boosting her way towards the door, making Nursery Rhyme pout at the obvious cheating. With some spell bolstering of her own, she quickly followed after her. Jeanne chuckled as they quickly disappeared through the doors, before an awkward silence fell between the two saints. Joan, still preoccupied with the sudden turn of events, was more than happy to leave everything at that had Jeanne not turned to her once more.

Jeanne fiddled with her finger before her. "Um… so Christmas is in five days..."

Joan scowled. "I'm not going to celebrate that Christian holiday."

"...I have a present to give you back in my room."

The alter blinked, the scowl quickly destroyed and replaced with a dumbfounded expression. "…you have a present for me?"

Jeanne nodded with a small smile. "It was a little fast, to be fair… but I had Atalanta send it back from the singularity yesterday for watching the children."

"You're unbelievable... I don't have anything for you, you know?" Joan admitted with a flat tone. Jeanne took no offense.

"Well… if it makes you feel better, you already did…" the holy maiden trailed off quietly. Joan raised her eyebrow.

"I didn't do anything except leave you alone. You want me to ignore you further?" This girl was confusing, and she was her for hell's sake.

"You see I, um…" Jeanne trailed off before chuckling nervously. She finally admitted in a whisper, "…I've been silently hoping for a little sister all this time..."

Seconds passed. Joan felt her face and resolute indifference shatter like glass. Her polar opposite could only laugh at the alter for the sudden, complete and total loss of composure. Between breaths and fits, Jeanne finally managed to talk. "Is that really how I look in complete surprise?"

"What sort of- You want me to be your little sister!? We're nearly the same person!" Joan cried out incredulously with a scowl. Of everything she has heard so far in the past week, that was the hardest thing she could ever believe, even including God. The true Maid of Orleans wanted to see the more chaotic attuned, disbelieving witch, that put her name to complete shame and disgrace… as a younger sibling of all things. Between the recent insanity of the past few days, she truly thought this place was senseless.

"Illyasviel and Kuro are too, but they manage it just fine… though I believe they were originally calling each other cousins in their timeline? Maybe I misheard the details... Emiya mentioned something and I was…"

Jeanne looked back to see Joan giving her a dry look. "Right. I'm going on a tangent… But I genuinely meant it. Though, I shouldn't have revealed that so suddenly like that. You've barely been here a week, and we were big enemies only a few months ago… I guess I got carried away. I'm sorry."

Joan was beyond puzzled, but at the same time felt content. Dantes may have been the first to open a door, with others following soon after, but this was the biggest surprise she had yet. As absurd of a notion as she truly believed it to be, she couldn't help but feel truly appreciated. The real holy maiden wanted to consider her as a little sister, which went beyond even acceptance; She was wanted, which was what she craved.

But there had been too many developments, and far too soon. She couldn't just accept it, as much as she wanted to. Even after revealing her insecurities during that tiny singularity, and everything she had just been through... she needed time for something like this.

"Tch... The deranged nerve of you. This is crazy... and too sudden for me," the alter quietly admitted with a frown.

"I can give you time to think it over…" the saint offered with a tiny smile.

Before she could respond, the doors to the gym burst open with the giggles of the child servants. "We found them! But we're playing tag because all of them already are!"

"All of them…?" Jeanne asked quietly as Kuro sped through the door in blue sweatpants and a green tank top. She laughed loudly as Illya ran through the door with Blackbeard close behind her. The pirate, wearing a black shirt with a random the One Piece logo on the front and jeans, looked completely shocked and confused while Illya took to the air, much to his dismay. The magical girl, looking down happily in her battle attire, watched as Heracles burst through the door to stare at the closest tag target… which was Blackbeard.

"How did you drag me into this, Illya!?" Blackbeard yelled as he bolted across the gym floor. Playing with the children was turning out to be far more dangerous than any of his perverted raids. He ran by the two saints as Heracles began his charge. He yelped in horror. "Why me!? Why. Always. Me!? This is bull shiiiii-sh kebabs!"

As Heracles flew past with the laughter of the children filling the large room, Joan groaned at the absurdity of this place. Jeanne giggled at her side, and the alter turned to look at her as Jack ran up to them. Taking the holy maiden by the hand, she looked to Joan curiously as she slowly grasped her's. To her delight, she received a slow nod and a tiny sigh.

Jack dragged both of them with her to chase after the retreating males. Jeanne smiled towards Joan, while she simply scowled back. It appears she was joining this whether she wanted to or not, since she didn't particularly feel like threatening a young girl with fire for pulling her along without consent... especially since she had only been nice to her. How could she ignore her happy little smile either?

Between other servants believing in her and her own disbelief in everything, she found it difficult herself to be in such an annoying situation. But her hope was answered, albeit in a way she never expected nor truly comprehended most of the time. This place was crazy, and so was she for staying here. Though it helped she found reasons to stay, especially from being wanted by select individuals. Maybe that number would grow, or maybe it would shrink. Maybe others would soon come to trust her as an appreciated individual like a few have so far. With all the possibilities, Joan was only certain about one view.

Jeanne Alter finally believed she found what truly mattered, and no god could steal that from her.