In a small village, there once lived an unremarkable girl. She did all the unremarkable things a girl from the countryside did, but, contrary to other girls of her age, she was happy to do them. She was satisfied with living an unremarkable life. That's all she ever wanted.
One unremarkable day, she was running around in the fields near her house, lost in thought, when she saw a lady dressed in a rather particular way. The woman, kneeling close to a small pond, smiled at her, and she smiled back, naturally.
She then told her parents about this strange encounter. Much to her surprise, her parents seemed highly agitated and excited. They told her it was a miracle, that she was sent from Heaven, that she was God's messager. She was surprised, even a bit scared, but her parents looked so happy, so she didn't try to change their minds.
Then, her parents started telling everyone they saw about what was, for all intents and purposes, an unremarkable encounter. Soon, everyone in the village started talking to her strangely, with a weird sense of respect, a certain detachment. She was dismayed, it was almost like she couldn't play with her friends anymore, she couldn't talk to her family normally, she couldn't just be a normal girl. The village wanted a saint. And since they were so happy, she begrudgingly became one.
One day, some men in armour came to the village and asked about the girl who had seen the Virgin Mary. They told her that rumours about her had traveled all the way to the royal palace and that the King asked of her and wanted her to lead the country to victory in a losing war. The girl was scared, she didn't want to go, she didn't know how to fight, she didn't want to fight. But France wanted a leader. And so she followed them.
She trained and trained until she couldn't move anymore. She could barely hold a sword in her hands. The first time she got cut she wanted to cry. She didn't want any of this. She wanted to go home. And yet, she trained until no one could cut her anymore. She only wanted to take a horse and ride as far away as she could from all of this. Instead, she took a horse and rode straight into battle.
She fought and fought and fought, and she won and won and won. But it was never enough. Always futher. Always more. Always... something or someone else. Who was she even fighting for anymore? It may have been that she was caught in these thoughts, or maybe she just couldn't bear it any longer, but one day, France won, and she lost.
They called her witch, they called her the devil's wife, they called her crazy. She wondered what she had ever done to gather such a reputation. The men who said those things looked exactly like those who hailed her as a saint. So why were they saying she was a witch? And why couldn't anyone say the truth?
In the end, the young girl was burned at the stake. The pain of being in flames only a fraction of the pain she felt inside. All she ever wanted was an unremarkable life. And yet, she was denied her only wish. Why? Why did it have to be her? Why? Why? Why?
"Because the world is evil."
That's what she thought as her eyes started melting.
"The world is cruel. Everyone is cruel. I won't stand for this anymore. I'll crush it. I'll burn it. I'll kill it. I'll kill anyone who's cruel. I'll kill anyone who denies me. I'll burn this evil world to the ground."
And as she screamed out those promises and the flames started getting higher and higher, burning anyone who had gotten too close, everyone became aware. Aware and afraid. Of the threat, of the curse, of the promise.
The promise of Jeanne d'Arc, the Fire Maiden.
Back in the present...
"Hey, hey, hey... why aren't you responding? Am I not annoying you?"
"Leave me alone, Gil, you're going to do it anyway."
"Jeanne, if you don't want to go with them, you don't have to."
"I don't want to be alone..."
"Then come with me, Jeanne, and if you don't want to, you won't have to fight even once, I promise. And I really mean it this time."
"..."
"Please, Jeanne... I don't want to leave you alone, and I want you with me."
"... you always do as you please."
"I know, I'm sorry... you two taught me how to do it."
"... what are you doing, idiot?"
"I'm comforting you."
"This is how you comfort me?"
"Are head pats not good enough? What else can I do?"
"Just stay still."
"Ok..."
Jeanne slowly moved her hands away from her face and gently put her head against his shoulder.
"Feeling better?"
"Not as long as you don't shut up."
"..."
Later...
"Ok, guys, we are bac- WHAT'S GOING ON?"
"They're fighting."
"Artoria! And other Artoria! And Big Bro! Why are you fighting?"
"These morons want to impose their timeline as the main one."
"Meaning?"
"They want to change our names to Salter, Galter and Jalter!"
"It's just a way to understand who you're talking to or about!"
"And why do we have to be the Alters?"
"Because you're clearly the inferior timeline."
"Based on what?"
"On everything, mongrel."
"That's it! I'll cut both."
"No, no, no. Nobody's going to kill each other. We're not savages."
"Are you afraid, mongrel?"
"I'm opposed to violence."
"Let's settle this with a friendly sparring match. Best of 3."
"I'm not participating in such a ridiculous contest, rabid dog."
"I'll pass too, I don't fight my friends over nicknames. I give them equally to everyone!"
"Do as you please, you, moron, prepare to fight with yourself."
"I-I don't really want to do this, Art-"
"Shut up, come outside."
"... fine..."
They all went outside, in a clearing close to the village.
"So, want to grab some popcorn, Big Bro?"
"Stop calling me that, you fool."
"Hey, want to drink some wine while watching the others."
"Don't think that this makes us friends."
"Is that a yes?"
"..."
"Hey Goldie, can I have some wine?"
"No way!"
"Please please please please please-"
"Shut up! Fine, you win, you noisy... you brute!"
"Haha, thank you, Goldie."
"Ohi, idiot, make me some wine."
"Right now?"
"No, I'll give you 20 years."
"That seems a bit excessive..."
"Of course I mean right now!"
"Well, why didn't you say so?"
"What are you doing, mongrel?"
"Making wine."
"M-M-Making... wine?"
"Yeah."
"W-Why?"
"Well, because Jeanne wants it."
"That's not what I meant, what about the wine in your treasury?"
"Oh, that... I'm afraid that Ereshkigal's curse had a side effect of making every food and drink that I possess... horrible!"
"Are you serious?"
"Luckily, I learnt how to make the most delicious wine, so even if the basic items are low quality, it usually comes out pretty decent. Here you go, Jeanne."
"I... I can't believe it... a king... making wine..."
"Hey Jeanne, can I try?"
"... suit yourself."
"Wow, this is exactly pretty good, other Goldie!"
"Thank you very much, Nero."
"*trying OG Gil's wine* this one is better."
"Well, thanks a lot, Jeanne... but I guess it's only natural that Big Bro would beat me."
"You're right, it's only natural."
"Indeed."
"Don't agree with me! You're a Gilgamesh! You shouldn't take such insults."
"But we're just joking around, Big Bro. Anyway, do you need some advice, Artoria?"
"What do you mean, idiot? You're the one going first."
"What? But I doubt me and Big Bro want to f-"
Half a dozen weapons flew against the other Gilgamesh [author's note: I'll call him Galter from now on.].
"What a mongrel! So easily crushable!"
"Wow, that was really fast! I never threw my weapons so fast. You're awesome, Big Bro."
"Huh? How did you get behind me?"
"Sorry, Big Bro, I need to ask my Artoria one question."
"You'll do nothing of the sort!"
Gilgamesh sent another wave of weapons to his enemy, but when the dust settled, he was once again behind him.
"Hey, Art- Ow, why did you punch me?"
"You think you can go around calling me yours, idiot?"
"That's not what I meant- Ow!"
"Don't try to save yourself now."
"Can you give me some advice on how to beat him? He seems really strong."
"If you fight like you normally do, you'll beat him easily."
"I have my doubts."
Before Galter could finish speaking, 20 weapons flew in their direction.
"Stop ignoring me! This isn't a game!"
Gilgamesh shouted angrily, but he, Artoria and Nero were taken aback by what they saw.
All the weapons had been knocked down and Galter was holding a sword in front of Salter.
"Apologies, Big Bro. We shouldn't hit the bystanders. That's fine in a real fight, but we're just playing around here."
"Shut up!"
A long lance slithered through the air, aimed at Galter's chest. Before it could reach its target, however, the spear clashed with his sword and flew away.
"What?"
"What's going on?"
"He blocked it with a sword?"
"Huh? Why is that a surprise?"
"What do you mean? Does your Goldie..."
"What did you do, mongrel?"
"I blocked your attack."
"Why?"
"Because I didn't want to get hit-"
At least 30 other swords tried to pierce him.
"Stop joking around! Why are you fighting this way?"
"I told you, didn't I? Fighting your way consumes a ton of mana, so I had to learn how to make most of what I had."
Galter said as he once again was behind Gilgamesh, now holding a halberd.
"No way... so you're telling me that this Archer... can actually fight?"
Galter spun around his weapon and blocked a new onslaught, slowly closing in the distance.
"Damn it, how can this mongrel see through all my attacks? Even if I could see the future... is it pure battle instinct?"
"The problem with saturation attack is that they are painfully predictable."
"Really? Then I shall put you through a test!"
Looking into the future, Gilgamesh saw the moment in which Galter's weapon would be raised up, and in that instant, sent a sword toward his stomach.
"Checkmate."
Before he could be impaled, Galter's armour glowed red and from underneath the feet a red energy burst into action, making him fly in the sky.
"What the hell?"
Gilgamesh took a step back, realising too late that he had stepped on something. He looked down and saw a mine. It exploded, sending him flying.
"What's going on?"
"Was that a mine? And his armour..."
"It's not an armour, it's a suit."
"No way!"
"So you're telling me that this Gilgamesh..."
"I must admit, I have a preference for modern weapons. After all, if humans have evolved in such a way their warfare, it must mean it's successful. Not to mention it's a simple of progress! Aren't you happy that humans are so smart, Big Bro?"
"... I hate everything you stand for. That's it. This isn't a fight. It's an execution. If you want to taunt a real king so badly... I'll go all out."
"Hey Goldie, that's a bit much, don't you think?"
"Man, that's a whole lot of weapons..."
"He could summon so many at once?"
"That's a bit extreme, Big Bro. You know that to even hope to survive that, I'll have to get serious too, right?"
"So what?"
"Nothing, just wanted to let you know."
"Die, mongrel."
The scene before everyone's eyes was surreal. Galter was flying through a golden swarm, holding an M-16, shooting down whatever he couldn't dodge, and summoning here and there granades and missiles to counter his alter ego's old-fashioned weapons.
"That's impossible! Normal bullets wouldn't be able to stop the Gate of Babilon."
"They're not normal bullets. He's quickly transforming his Noble Phantasms into bullets."
"Huh?"
"It's a skill he acquired due to his prowess. He can turn anything into a projectile."
"Prowess? You don't mean to say."
Waiting for the perfect moment, Galter saw his chance and took it.
What happened next was something no one could have believed in a thousand years. Galter summoned a bow, grabbed Merodach, turned it into an arrow, and shot it aiming for Gil's arm.
The arrow passed through every single weapon, stopping just an inch away from its target, constricted by the Chains of Heaven.
The shock was so great that Gilgamesh deactivated his Gate of Babilon.
"So you're telling me that this Archer... is actually an Archer?!"
"Of course I am, it's in the name, hehe."
The Chains of Heaven reflexively attacked him.
"How strange, these are... but I already know how to counter them."
As they grappled his arm, he pressed a detonator he held in his hand, activating a series of small explosions which partially broke the chains.
"The arrow you blocked was covered in microbombs the size of a small fungus."
Gilgamesh's fury was unleashed. Galter noticed he had done something that really pissed him off. He also opened his Gate as much as he could and out of it came his weapons, blackened by the curse. They all started glowing red and seemed to enter his armour and were released as mana blasts.
"Wow, how is that-"
"Are you listening to me? I said he can turn anything into a projectile. Does that look like a projectile?"
"I guess."
Still, it was certain that Galter would be hit a few times.
When the attack was over, the hill they were on was no more.
"Are you satisfied now, mongrel?"
"That was too much for my poor body, hehe."
Galter was mostly fine, save for a small cut on his cheek.
His suit had been shredded to pieces and underneath it, a strange garment covered him.
"It's a good thing I had this on and that none of your weapons were aimed at me head. You did that on purpose didn't you?"
"..."
"Hehe, you're really great, Big Bro. I give up, I'm too tired and my body can't keep moving this way for much longer. I happily surrender to you. Sorry, Artoria, he won!"
"No, I refuse your surrender. I have failed to make you bend the knee, for now. This isn't over in the long run. I'll show you how mistaken you are."
Gilgamesh concluded as he walked away.
"Besides, I can tell... that you were just playing around."
"Well, so were you, Big Bro, so there was no need to get serious after all.
Well, Artoria, it's all up to you now!"
"Hey, other me, I know this may be a bit strange right before we fight, but... can we swap Archers?"
"WIth pleasure."
"What did we do?!"