A Not So Evil God In Fate/Grand Order

It was a decent day in Chaldea like any other one. Despite the cold outside, the interior was warm and snug, so Jeanne had no complaints, not that she was one to complain, to begin with.

She had to be honest, when she met the group in France, she never thought they came from a place so...futuristic? That was probably the right word. The summoning system here filled her with the overall knowledge of this era like any normal Holy Grail would, but that didn't diminish the marvel she felt when looking at the new sights before her. Speaking of which, it left a bad taste in her mouth talking as if the imitation was the same one used by their Messiah, but she has learned to live with it.

Jeanne made many friends when they fought together to liberate her homeland, so she didn't hesitate for even a second when the time came to answer the summon. It was true that there were some missing, but she hoped it wouldn't take long for them to be summoned here, especially Marie.

Don't get her wrong, she still had many people she could get along with in here. There were Miss Da Vinci, Boudica, Siegfried, and her fellow Saint, Martha! Although... Jeanne had the feeling that sometimes, the Dragon Rider would look like a completely different person, it was as if she were a street thug. Nah... That's not possible, it must be her imagination. A kind soul and fellow believer of God wouldn't act like that. For sure!

Then there was the fact that she had a new sister! And, of course, she was the big one. Ehehehehe~

Cough

Anyway! She had to admit they started with the wrong foot, being enemies and all that. However, they were closer than ever now that they were teammates. It could be said that they were finally a happy family who would look out for each other. Jeanne was also sure that she had made progress regarding her foul language!

"What the f.u.c.k do you want, icy bitch queen?! Do you have the same death wish as that bimbo?!"

"You have guts to try and steal my burger, you mad dog."

The angry shouts of two women in the Cafeteria resounded through the halls she was walking through.

Another cough.

Maybe that last part still needed a bit more progress, after all. But she won't give up! If Jalter was a being born from her, then surely she would be someone who understands the need for good behavior in the eyes of their Lord.

The Saint had taken it upon herself to teach her little sister good manners, or at least how not to act like a delinquent, since she was not well-versed in proper etiquette. At her core, she was still the same country girl that played in the fields with her brothers and sister.

A small sigh escaped her lips, her mood becoming a little sullen. It was not like she didn't accept her time was over, and that hoping to see her family again was wishful thinking. Even then, she still held them close to her heart. Jeanne would never forget the times she spent with her siblings no matter what.

When she left them behind, her mission was to take back France from the Englishmen. Now, her new one could not compare to the previous one. The scale was that different.

During her life, she had to save a single country. And now, during her death, she had to save the world. It was an...interesting experience, to say the least. Far from the norm that could be a normal Holy Grail War. Of course, as a Ruler, occasions where she was summoned to one were very rare.

In a way that even she found slightly twisted, she was thankful that this was not a normal Holy Grail War. If it were, there was no doubt she wouldn't have met her new friends and...Master.

A complicated look adorned her face as an image of him came to her mind. She honestly didn't know what to think about the man everyone in Chaldea called Kuro, a nickname the other Master had come up with, and a catchy one at that.

He was, for the most part, a detached individual. It was like he was here with them, but at the same time not. If she had to describe it in a better way, she would say that he doesn't belong in this place. Whereas everyone else — Except Heroic Spirits, of course — have the mindset of fighting for survival, it feels like for him this is nothing more than a job, one that he seems reluctant to do but, for some reason, does anyway.

The faces he unconsciously makes sometimes, they remind her of the time when she fought to liberate France. There were soldiers with that same look amidst their ranks. It was a look that said "I don't want to be here, but I have no other choice."

She had tried to ask him many times about it, but he had refused to answer, saying that she didn't need to know, and that she was better training to overcome the limits of her Spirit Origin.

It pained her greatly that he couldn't trust her to tell her some things. After all, she believed the relationship between Master and Servant had to be one of trust. One where they would rely on one another no matter the circ.u.mstances.

Despite her lack of education, she was not stupid by any means. It was obvious to her that something had changed the moment she was summoned again after her death in Rome. The way he looked at her, it was as if he didn't want for that to happen, that he preferred her dead.

Again, it pained her. She felt...unneded. It was difficult. Jeanne wanted to understand him, to understand his reasoning for his actions. However, it was all fruitless. She tried to comprehend him to no avail. Still, there was no way she could give up.

If she had to give a reason for that, it would most likely be that dream. The dream where she watched as a young, and infinitely more cheerful version of her Master did everything he could to please his father, only to receive the cold shoulder in return.

The Saint unknowingly clenched her hands into fists. If it was only that she would not be that preoccupied, but it didn't end there. She watched as her Master's father ordered for his son to be whipped alongside his servant.

Rooted and powerless, she was forced to witness what could only be described as torture. No, to be more accurate, she couldn't look away. The option was there, but she never took it. Even as tears fell from her eyes and her heart ached, she watched from beginning to end. She tried, believe her, she tried with all her being to help, to cut down those that were harming them only to fail as her flag passed through them.

It was only once, a single occurrence. Even so, who could say that it was the first? Or that it was the last? She might be childish in believing that with enough effort, every soul could be redeemed, but she was not naive. That situation... There is no way it hadn't repeated itself before.

Then why was it? Why did her Master look so happy and tried to gain his father's approval even when he, most likely, knew he wouldn't get? The answer to that question didn't come fast no. It took its sweet and painful time. Despite that, she couldn't say it pleased her. On the contrary, it was heart wrenching.

He was twisted, extremely so.

Maybe not now, not anymore, at least. However, there was no denying that his childhood was, without a doubt, the worst time of his life. Growing up with a father like that made him rotten to the core.

Children were the greatest gift God could have given Humanity, she firmly believed so. To see one being mistreated like that was nothing short of a capital sin.

It was from then on, from when she saw that dream, that she decided she would try to make her Master give a genuine smile, one that would reflect her child self without being afraid of the consequences she saw there. Not like those he was starting to give now. They looked more like an imitation than anything else, they were empty.

She knew it would be hard, maybe even more than their current mission of saving the world. She knew that she would receive mockery, she was already receiving it in the form of her sister. But even then, she wouldn't give up. A dream is a dream because it always seems unreachable. However, that is also why it makes it worthwhile.

Still, there was something that she would have to deal with first. Her clenched hands went reflexively to her c.h.e.s.t. Jeanne remembered that 'thing' inhabiting she met together with Siegfried on her second Dream Cycle. She formed many theories about the identity of that being, because even though it wore the same skin as her Master, she instinctively knew it was not him.

Jeanne had many theories regarding its true nature, but none that she could prove as after that dream, she never got access to any more of her Master's memories. She suspected it had to do with that imitation. His last words before he pierced Saber and her c.h.e.s.t were enough indication of it.

So, the only option left was to ask him, and much to her - not - surprise, he had thrown her in the Simulation Room to fight a group of hungry Chimeras.

Jeanne released a sigh full of exasperation. She would have to work on her trait of asking before thinking in the future. It didn't help that her little sister laughed at her predicaments. Fortunately, it seemed that fairness existed within her Master's heart as Jalter soon followed, much to the Black Saint's dismay.

That was when the second option came into play, and that was getting the help of Martha. She was probably the person who she got along the most here, both being Saints and all that.

Putting a finger on her chin and adopting a thinking pose, her steps reverberated through the halls, giving her all the time in the world she needed to muse over the past events.

Call it a gut feeling, but she somewhat felt there was something between her fellow Saint and her Master. Despite the subtleness, she could catch the occasional glances the two give each other the moment they cross paths before they turned their eyes away.

To say that it made her genuinely curious would be an understatement. As far as she knew, the only contact they had was in France and it was a battle. So then, why did they act like that? It was as if they knew each other, but preferred not to talk to avoid an awkward situation.

When she 'confronted' her fellow believer about it, the only response she got was Rider avoiding looking at her in the eye, a fake cough, and a pat on the head.

It was only after she got really, REALLY insistent that she finally got an answer, albeit not the one she expected or wanted.

"Tell me, Maiden of Orleans. Why is our life short? Is it because God wanted us to find meaning and enjoy it as much as possible while following his teachings? Is it because we know it's short that we would do everything in our power to find a meaning for it? Or maybe it's just because the flesh is weak and there is so much that it can withstand? No, it's none of that nonsense. It's because our souls can't handle more. The pain that comes with living less than a century is enough to cut our lives short." She remembered her pausing, before a look of pity flashed through her face, one that was gone as quickly as it came.

"If someone was to live more than that...they would see hell. They would see the true nature of this world. If you want to save someone like that, then common sense will not do, neither shallow understanding will. Not even a wish to the Holy Grail, fake or not, will change that. Whatever you do, don't use common sense."

She didn't say anything else, opting for going somewhere else instead, leaving a perplexed Jeanne staring dumbly at her back. It didn't take a genius to know that she was left dumbfounded. Ruler didn't comprehend what Martha was trying to tell her. It wasn't even related to what she had asked in the first place. Was she talking about Servants? Weren't they just fine despite 'living' more than the lifespan of a normal human?

Unfortunately, Martha didn't answer her unasked questions. She just left a "Don't give up hope. As hard as it may be sometimes." behind.

Since that day, Jeanne had been trying to understand her words, only to fail miserably. Deciding she would not achieve anything by thinking so hard about it, she dropped the subject temporarily.

In its place, she decided to use her free time to better her reading. It was something her Master had, in a surprising act of patience, taught her together with Jalter, so she naturally wanted to impress him by the time he came home.

That way, she would have an edge over her sister~! And also...that woman.

A small feeling she couldn't describe occupied her heart every time she thought of a certain girl adorning a white veil. Even during her life, she hadn't felt anything like it, so it was still a foreign feeling, one that she didn't take p.l.e.a.s.u.r.e in having, but also didn't know how to remove.

It was just... When she saw that woman, the King of Combat, standing beside her Master, her world turned gray for a second before returning to normal. The way that woman looked at her Master...it told her things.

Don't ask her how, but she instinctively knew that Altera knew something more about him than she did, even if their time together had been longer than his with Saber.

Jeanne had difficulties accepting it. More so when her Master looked at Altera as if she was the same as him. It was as if a wolf surrounded by dogs finally found one of its kin amidst strangers.

Even though she wanted to trust someone with how she was feeling to see if a solution to it could be found, something deep within her told her not to. That she could trust no one.

Quickly shaking her head to get rid of unnecessary thoughts, she looked ahead only to see she had finally reached her destination, the Command Room.

She had wanted to check up on the Chaldeans, and see how they were doing in the Singularity. Even if she couldn't be with them in body, she would be with them in spirit! Also...

A small blush made its way into her face.

Talking with her Master would be rather nice... Although, looking at how he usually acted, he would tell her to stop dilly dallying and for her to do something productive with her free time. But well...one can only hope.

As Martha said, no matter how hard it was, she couldn't lose it!

It was then that the sliding door opened with her entering the room a second after, only to hear Romani speaking. Speaking the words that would make her world come crumbling down.

"... Seth. A Divine Spirit of Ancient Egypt who murdered his brother, Osiris, in cold-blood and usurped his throne and reigned by terrorizing his subjects until his nephew Horus managed to put an end to it thanks to the help from the other Egyptian Gods. Some people believe his myth also inspired Christianity, often comparing him with Satan on several occasions."

It was then that she discovered...

... Hope was merely an illusion.

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