On the evening of August 31st, 1939, Jezebel and her Servant, M.R. James, were transported back in time to Britain. The air was thick with tension, as the world teetered on the brink of war. But for the pair, a different conflict was about to unfold - the False Moon Cell Holy Grail War.

Jezebel, dressed in her provocative black attire and adorned with satanic iconography, stood out like a sore thumb as she and M.R. James arrived at their designated coordinates. They found themselves in the outskirts of Leeds, and Jezebel's first order of business was to find the grave of her Servant, and do a séance with his contemporary spirit.

With M.R. James in tow, they boarded a train bound for Eton town Cemetery. As the locomotive hummed and chugged along, the two engaged in conversation, their unlikely partnership offering a fascinating contrast of personalities.

"Jezebel, I must say, your desire to commune with the spirits is truly commendable," M.R. James remarked, adjusting his scholarly reading glasses.

"Thank you, Mr. James! I've always found the supernatural world captivating, and I'm eager to learn more from you," Jezebel replied with a warm smile, her bubbly demeanor belying her dark appearance.

The train ride provided ample opportunity for the two to discuss their allies, and the tactical plays they might be able to get up to with their help. They knew little about their fellow Black Faction members but were eager to work together towards their shared goal nonetheless.

At last, the train made a stop near the final resting place of the real M.R. James. A chill cemetery littered with innumerable headstones, memorial candles lighting the way through its gloomy pathways.

Jezebel, eager to gain insight into her enigmatic Servant, insisted on visiting his grave to conduct a séance. M.R. James, though hesitant at first, eventually agreed.

As they stood over the tombstone, Jezebel began the ritual. M.R. James, his presence charged with supernatural energy, watched intently. The air grew cold, and whispers filled the air. The spirit of M.R. James appeared before them, his ghostly visage gazing upon his own tombstone and the one who wore his name.

To the surprise of Servant and Master alike, his visage was dissimilar to that worn by the Servant of the same name. Though such was not entirely without precedent as far as Servants went, it still served as an omen of what revelations the freshly conjured specter could provide the pair.

"Why have you called upon me, young one?" The spirit inquired, his voice echoing in the still night air.

"I seek your guidance, M.R. James. My Servant bears your name and visage, and we wish to know more about him, as he himself seems to have trouble with his recollections." Jezebel explained, her voice steady despite the eerie atmosphere.

The spirit observed the Servant, noting the uncanny resemblance.

"This man is... hmmm... how strange..."

"What is?" Jezebel asked

"Forgive me my dear... but... how can I explain... you see... that man is not me, and yet... he carries a piece of my essence."

"Essence? Oh, you must mean his Spirit Origin!"

"I'm afraid I am not versed in that term of phrase. Nonetheless, I can safely say that he is connected to the world of spirits and shadows, as was I," the spirit said, his ethereal eyes narrowing. "Be cautious, for there is something... hidden within him. Something unknown..."

Jezebel and M.R. James exchanged a glance, the cryptic warning igniting a spark of curiosity and unease. As the spirit faded into the darkness, they were left with more questions than answers.

"Well, Mr. James, at least now we know a bit more about what's up with you."

"Yes... Master, may I confide in you?"

Jezebel nodded.

"Even if... even if I can no longer be sure of anything. Who I am, why I was summoned to be your Servant, know this; your Servant I remain. I will see to it that we are victorious in this war, no matter what."

"I know you will. We'll figure all this out together. Sooner or later. Maybe Alter-Ego or Voyager or Caster could help figure out what's up with you?"

The Servant Smiled

"You're right. They could, couldn't they..."

As if on cue, a flock of pigeons flew overhead, circling the group with a visible enthusiasm.

Sent to one of the most likely places for the pair to visit, they swiftly carried tidings to the other members of the Black Faction of Stirling Castle, which even now was being fortified into a mighty bastion from which they could operate out of in this Grail War.

So it was that the two continued their journey, taking the next available train to Stirling Castle, where they would rendezvous with Mary Burnette and J.R.R. Tolkien.

The Black Faction members pressed on, their fates intertwined, as the world around them edged closer to the precipice of calamity...