Fate/Resistance: Alternative.

(Disclaimer: I don't own Type-Moon or any other content used in this book. This is a fanfiction written for fun.)

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"Do you not like how this place looks?" Alaric walked with his head held high and curiously regarded Jeanne D'Arc, or as he'd recognised, 'Joan of Arc', "I agree if so, the vibe is creepy. I'll never get why magi obsess with the past so much."

Much of the Clock Tower was centuries, if not over a millennium old, and well preserved enough that not even a brick had been shifted from itself. This gave it a likeness to ancient culture that the progressive Alaric could never appreciate.

Jeanne had forgone her 15th-century armaments for more modern attire. She wore slightly transparent dark tights and a grey sweater that went below her short navy skirt to fit in with the winter aesthetic. As he'd come to learn, when not in her 'battle mode', Jeanne D'Arc was somewhat simple, she'd taken to staying materialised once she learnt it didn't tax him.

"Erm... no, it's even nostalgic... in a way." Jeanne answered in a strained way, glancing at the few students that lingered in the well-lit but dull hallways, "It's just that I have had some bad experiences."

Alaric narrowed his gaze and nodded, "Oh right. Must be hard, walking amidst people that question your core beliefs. What do you wanna do then?" A small smirk formed on his face, "Kill them all? They're magi anyway."

"No, no. Why would you even consider that an option?" Jeanne trembled at his words because there was no way she could not know he meant it: "I appreciate your sentiment, but these people had nothing to do with it."

Alaric opened his mouth to answer but she interrupted him, "And besides, I... I recall how even then, some turned their eyes away. And that kind girl, who gave me a cross then. I hope the Lord blessed her with a happy life." A graceful smile gradually came to adorn her lips, one that left Alaric silent and confused.

How could one die in the manner she had, burned as a heretic, and not hate those who wronged her?

He sighed and raised his hands in surrender, "Saints, I don't get them."

"We're not so different, Master." Jeanne stared at Alaric with big eyes, "If God forbid, you were to lose your life at this very moment. What would you regret the most?"

Alaric sighed and hastened his pace, not answering the question. However, the amused smile on his servant's face told she already knew his answer.

…

The Department of Policies had never held much interest for Alaric. It was a place where nobles sent their offspring to learn the intricacies of politics—a realm devoid of mysticism, concerned only with upholding the Clock Tower's foremost principle: the Concealment of Mystery. Alaric had visited the department a few times to collect bounties, but these visits were always brief.

Stepping into the office, he was greeted by the sight of a woman whose features blended Oriental and Western influences. She wore a yukata, traditional Japanese attire, and Mystic Eye Killers that did little to mask her striking beauty.

"Oh? Alaric. What brings you here unannounced? And who's this?" Her gaze flicked to Jeanne with a teasing smile. "Your girlfriend?"

She was Hishiri Adashino, a first-class mage who lacked the airs one might expect of someone with her talent as a mage. More importantly, she was an officer of the Department of Policies—a crucial ally for his next undertaking.

"I want to patent something," Alaric declared, dropping onto the couch. Reaching into his Imaginary Numbers space, he retrieved a thick book and set it on the table. "The Holy Grail Ritual."

"Eh?!" Jeanne's gasp was loud enough to echo, while Adashino raised a single brow.

"Hm?" Her reaction was measured, though intrigue flickered in her eyes. Unlike Jeanne, who remained slack-jawed.

"U-um... Master, what are you—" Jeanne stammered, unable to articulate a coherent question.

"I'll explain later," Alaric cut her off before turning back to Adashino, who now wore a sly smirk.

"My, my~ So, you two enjoy that sort of dynamic. It's nice to be young. Do remember to invite me to the wedding," she quipped, clearly stalling for time relying on Jeanne to create a fuss.

"You're deflecting," Alaric replied flatly. "Focus. I want this patent registered. It's the same ritual as Fuyuki's, with some tweaks and modifications—all detailed in the first few pages." He pulled out a single sheet of paper and placed it beside the book. "And these are the terms and conditions for its use."

"Why—"

"If you deflect again," Alaric interrupted coldly, "I'll cut off your breasts and put them on a mannequin for display."

Adashino fell silent, her smirk vanishing as she seated herself opposite him. With an air of resignation, she began skimming the document.

"I realize this might be inconvenient," Alaric continued, "but consider it repayment for bringing Doctor Heartless back to the Clock Tower."

"... As a corpse," she muttered without looking up.

"Potaeto, potatoe." Alaric's smile tightened. "His head was intact, wasn't it? That's all you needed." His nonchalance only underscored the unspoken truth—he could have brought the mage in alive but had chosen not to.

Adashino sighed, setting the papers down. "Fine. I'll see it done. But next time, please do knock before barging into my office."

"Will do." Alaric waved goodbye without sparing her another glance and left without a word. Jeanne, meanwhile, bowed respectfully before hurrying after him.

"Master," she called, her voice laced with concern. "Why are you sharing the Grail with the world? What if someone uses it for selfish or evil purposes?"

Alaric continued walking down the marble halls of the Policies, his gaze fixed straight ahead. "The answer to your question, Jeanne, is simple: I am unsatisfied."

Jeanne furrowed her brow, perplexed, but said nothing as he continued.

"For years, I have sought to create something greater than myself—something I could control. In the future, I'd face world-ending threats time and again. I wanted a power capable of defending this world without fail against anything that is thrown at me."

He paused, gazing at his open palm before curling it into a fist. "But as my research progressed, I came to a painful realization. Whatever I craft with my own hands will always be limited by my own constraints. Even the Holy Grail of Fuyuki and the Third Magic had their boundaries."

Releasing his clenched hand, he turned to her, his eyes sharp and resolute. "What I need is chaos—something that grows and spirals beyond my control. A force so unpredictable that even the likes of Solomon and Gilgamesh couldn't foresee its every move."

Jeanne opened her mouth, but Alaric preempted her. "As for your fears about someone misusing it for evil…" he said with a faint smile, "Rest assured. I've imposed strict terms and conditions. Every Holy Grail War conducted with my system will be overseen by Alaric von Dietrich alongside a Ruler-class Servant."

"But what if someone—"

"Additionally," he interrupted, "The blueprints I patent were Sub-category Holy Grails tied to the Great Grail of Uruk. If a wish proves harmful, I can sever its connection at will." He smirked, his tone tinged with calculated confidence. "Of course, to maintain authenticity, I'll allow a few wishes to be granted. That way, the moths will flock to the flame—fuel for the chaos."

Jeanne hesitated for a moment before bowing deeply. "I apologize for questioning you, Master."

"Stop it." He waved dismissively, eyeing the curious stares of passersby. "You're embarrassing us."

"My apologies!" Jeanne straightened, her cheeks flushed as she slapped them lightly. With renewed determination, she asked, "What's our next step, Master?"

Alaric's lips curled into a mischievous grin. "We're going on an adventure."

"An adventure?"

"Yes," he said, his tone tinged with excitement. "It'll be some time before the first Grail Wars begin, and Marisbury has nothing urgent for me. So I've decided to indulge in a little… refreshment."

"What sort of refreshment?" Jeanne tilted her head curiously.

"Well," he began, taking her hand before she could react, "To gain some firsthand experience, I thought we'd participate in another Holy Grail War—in a parallel timeline."

Before Jeanne could utter a word, the world around them shimmered and dissolved as Alaric whisked them away to another world.

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(A/N: Special Thanks to @Uami for reading this beforehand and giving his input. This is my first novel so I would appreciate some much-needed support and criticism in the form of Reviews, Comments and Power Stones.)