At Vincent's house
"So you're saying there's no Holy Grail here at all, and you just happened to get a Servant by pure coincidence?" Jeanne sat down on the chair, casually putting both feet up on the table like she owned the place.
"Yeah. Meaning your whole plan to kill all the Servants and end this Holy Grail War... is pretty pointless since there wasn't one to begin with." I said it straight, sitting across from her.
"Are you fucking kidding me?! Goddamn embarrassing!" Jeanne shot up, face flushed red like she was about to start smashing furniture to vent the humiliation.
She had just gone and attacked Vincent's Servant, and on top of that, exposed her own secret to him. How was this any different from publicly humiliating herself?!
"Calm down, sis. We've known each other for a long time anyway. It's understandable that you'd hide some things from me." I waved my hand like it wasn't a big deal.
"Master, you and her really have a great relationship. I hope you two keep it up!" Angra, lying sprawled on the sofa, gave a thumbs-up.
Servants could regenerate on their own, but the problem was Angra had sprayed blood everywhere from his wound, so he had to stay bandaged to avoid staining the couch cushions.
"Shut your mouth, you weakling. No one asked you." Jeanne glared at Angra, making him immediately look away and start whistling innocently.
"Alright, now it's my turn to ask. You're... Jeanne d'Arc, a real historical figure, and you're not a Servant?"
"What? Got a problem with that?"
"No, it's just... you're a bit different from what I imagined."
"What now? You trying to compare me to that goody-two-shoes idiot?" Jeanne leaned in close, her ferocious expression forcing me to turn my head away.
'She means her pure version, right?'
"Calm down. Now that I think about it, you actually match exactly what's written in Grandpa's notebook. I thought it was just a coincidence or something, but turns out Grandpa wasn't writing an OC."
"Notebook?" Jeanne raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, here—take a look."
She took it, flipped straight to the first page.
And yep, right there was a scribbled drawing of her with extremely detailed information.
"...Knew that old man was a stalker. No different from Gilles." She looked disgusted and kept reading.
After a while, she handed it back to me, sat down again with that same domineering attitude.
"Eh, half of this info is correct."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"Because I don't have any memories of becoming a Ruler or fighting those... what do you call them? Chaldea people?"
"Maybe it's because I'm a real living person and not a Servant or anything? I only remember right before I came to this world."
She spoke in one long breath, then gave me a meaningful glance.
"But you don't seem very surprised, huh? Before all this, your life was just normal everyday stuff. You didn't even know magic or Servants existed."
"I don't know... Maybe this is exactly what I've been waiting for?" I scratched my head awkwardly.
'Waiting for? What's there to look forward to in this crap?' Jeanne thought to herself.
"I think I know why she doesn't know anything about Chaldea," Angra spoke up this time, making both of us turn to him.
"Spit it out already," Jeanne said.
"Multiverse, duh. There'll be histories that are almost identical but differ in a few key points, creating completely divergent timelines. You also have a Servant version of yourself, and that one has feelings for the Chaldea Master—"
Suddenly Angra felt a chill run down his spine.
Oh shit, he ran his mouth too far!
"Ahem! But that's just one of the countless different versions of you! Like a mass-produced clone tailored for each person. Each clone only has memories from the buyer's current life."
What the hell are you even explaining? I don't get any of this.
"So you're saying I'M also a clone of myself?"
'Oh shit, should've just kept quiet.' Angra thought.
"Calm down, sis—"
"Just call me Jean-nee."
"Why are you suddenly going full Japanese style?"
"Call me or not?"
"Uh, Jean-nee, you don't need to get mad. I already have you. I don't even know the other versions of you."
"Vincent, Vincent... Imagine me being mass-produced and handed out to a bunch of strangers you don't even know, and they do whatever they want with me. Doesn't that piss you off—"
"Jean-nee."
Jeanne stopped. She looked into my serious eyes.
"I have you. The others might wear your face, but in some way they're not you. You're the one I know, and that's more than enough."
"…"
Jeanne's face turned slightly red. She scratched her head and looked away to hide her embarrassment.
"Yeah... I have you too. And you can't be replaced for me."
"Ehehe~" Angra gave a sleazy laugh, earning a murderous glare from Jeanne.
Hard to believe—how the hell did Vincent manage to tame Jeanne Alter like this? Impressive.
"Oh, right, sis," I said to her.
"What?" She grabbed a cup of coffee and was about to take a sip.
"I want to hold a Holy Grail War!"
"Oh sure—PFFT, WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!"
"…" Angra's face was now drenched, the smell of coffee wafting off him.
"Well... I said I want to organize a Holy Grail War where I can watch seven random people fight each other with their Servants."
"Are you insane?!" She closed in and grabbed my cheeks.
"Of course, that Grail would be fake. Everything would happen inside a time loop created by Angra. So in a way, me and Angra have total control over everyone inside. I won't get hurt or anything."
"That..." She hesitated.
Even though she wasn't the original Jeanne—just a completely separate byproduct—she still carried the original's memories and experience. So she knew exactly how dangerous a Holy Grail War could be.
"If you're worried about me, then... um..." I scratched my head and looked at her.
"What?"
"You could join me to observe the Masters killing each other. And if you want, you can protect me if you're worried."
A very wicked thought—and completely honest.
Seven random Masters slaughtering each other over a Grail that doesn't even exist? What a tragic joke.
And it came from this boy—the only person she could truly call close.
"Heh."
Jeanne ruffled Vincent's hair.
"I don't care how those Masters kill each other. Hell, even if you had even more twisted ideas, I wouldn't care much. I'd even help you if you wanted."
She looked away again, cheeks flushing red.
"As long as you're happy."
...She really is waifu material. Best tsundere.