Female Obreron

The summoning circle glowed with a soft, ethereal light—gentler than most, almost like moonlight filtering through leaves. A cool breeze that smelled faintly of forests and night air swept through the chamber as the silhouette of a woman began to form.

When the light finally faded, she stood gracefully in the center of the circle.

A beautiful woman with long, silvery-white hair that seemed to float lightly around her, crowned with a delicate golden tiara. Her clear blue eyes held a gentle, almost dreamy warmth. She wore an elegant white dress with a thick, soft fur collar, the fabric flowing around her generous figure, and on her feet were simple yet refined white high heels. A small pouch hung at her waist. Everything about her presence felt calm, refined, and strangely comforting.

She looked around the summoning chamber with open curiosity, a soft smile already forming on her lips.

“Hello.”

Her voice was light, pleasant, and carried a natural kindness that immediately put one at ease.

“So this is Chaldea?”

She took a small step forward, the soft click of her white heels echoing lightly against the floor, and clasped her hands loosely in front of her.

“I’ve heard about it, of course… but actually being here in person gives me chills!” She let out a small, airy laugh, covering her mouth politely. “In a good way, I mean. It’s a little overwhelming… but also exciting.”

She then straightened her posture slightly and offered you a graceful, almost shy bow of her head.

“Ah, yes. I should introduce myself properly.”

Her blue eyes met yours with gentle sincerity.

“I am Oberon. Oberon, the Queen of the Fairies.”

She said the title with a soft, almost self-deprecating smile, as if it were something mildly embarrassing.

“As you can probably tell, I’m only a queen in name. I’m not particularly strong, and I’m not the type to stand at the front lines… but I’m quite good at putting people at ease. If there’s ever anything troubling you, or if you simply need someone to talk to, I hope you’ll feel free to come to me.”

She tilted her head slightly, her long white hair swaying with the motion, and her smile grew a little warmer.

“I’ll do my best to be useful in whatever way I can. Even if it’s just small things… like listening, or keeping you company when things feel heavy.”

Oberon placed one hand lightly over her chest and gave you another polite, genuine-looking smile.

“…It’s a pleasure to meet you, Master.”

She remained standing there, elegant and soft-spoken, the perfect image of a kind and caring fairy queen—completely hiding the far sharper, more dangerous nature that lay beneath the gentle mask.

You were walking through one of the quieter corridors of Chaldea, the soft hum of the facility filling the air around you. The lights were dimmed to their evening setting, casting a calm, bluish glow along the walls.

As you turned a corner, you noticed a familiar figure standing near one of the large observation windows.

Oberon was there, her long silvery-white hair gently swaying as she gazed outside at the simulated night sky. The white dress with its thick fur collar made her look almost ethereal under the soft lighting, and the quiet click of her white heels against the floor was the only sound that announced her presence as she slightly shifted her weight.

When she noticed you approaching, her blue eyes lit up with a gentle warmth, and a soft, welcoming smile spread across her lips.

“Ah… Master.”

She turned fully toward you, clasping her hands lightly in front of her in that polite, graceful manner she always seemed to use.

“What a pleasant coincidence. I was just taking a quiet walk. This place can feel a little overwhelming at times, can’t it? So many people, so many voices… Sometimes I find myself needing a moment of stillness.”

She took a few elegant steps closer, the fabric of her white dress flowing softly around her.

“You look a bit tired,” she observed gently, her voice carrying that natural, soothing tone that made it feel like she truly cared. “Have you been working late again? You’ve been pushing yourself quite hard these past few days…”

Oberon tilted her head slightly, her expression filled with quiet concern.

“If you’d like, I could walk with you for a while. Or… if you’re heading back to your room, I wouldn’t mind accompanying you. Sometimes it’s nicer not to walk alone, don’t you think?”

She gave a small, almost shy laugh, covering her mouth politely with one hand.

“I know I’m not particularly strong, and I can’t offer much in the way of combat support… but I’m good at listening. And I’m good at keeping people company. If there’s anything weighing on your mind, even something small, you can tell me. I won’t judge.”

Her blue eyes remained soft and attentive as she waited beside you, the picture of a kind and caring presence—completely hiding the sharper, more calculating nature that rested just beneath the gentle mask.

She smiled once more, warm and reassuring.

“Shall we walk together for a little while, Master?”

You were in one of the quieter lounges of Chaldea when soft footsteps approached. The gentle click of white heels stopped just a few steps away from you.

“Master…”

Oberon’s voice was quieter than usual, almost fragile. When you looked up, she was standing there in her elegant white dress, hands lightly clasped in front of her. Her long silvery hair framed a face that looked unusually subdued. The usual soft smile was still present, but it seemed a little weaker, as if she were trying to hold something back.

She hesitated for a moment before speaking again.

“I’m sorry to bother you… but would it be alright if I stayed here with you for a little while?”

Without waiting for a firm answer, she carefully sat down near you, folding her hands neatly on her lap. For a few seconds she simply looked down, as if gathering her thoughts.

“…I ran into some old acquaintances earlier,” she finally said, her tone gentle and slightly wounded. “Morgan… and the Fairy Knights.”

She let out a soft, almost self-deprecating breath.

“I thought that, since we’re all here in Chaldea now, things might be a little different. I tried to greet them politely. I really did. But…”

Oberon’s blue eyes lowered, and her voice grew quieter.

“They were so cold. So curt. They barely even looked at me properly. It was as if they didn’t want me near them at all.”

She gave a small, sad smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“I know I shouldn’t let it bother me. I’m only a queen in name, after all… and I’m used to not being particularly welcomed. Still… it stung a little more than I expected.”

She glanced at you from the side, her expression soft and vulnerable.

“I don’t want to trouble you with something so childish. It’s just… after that, I didn’t really feel like being alone. Sitting by myself would have made the silence feel heavier, I think.”

Oberon shifted slightly closer, her voice dropping into that warm, caring tone she always used with you.

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. Just… letting me stay near you for a while is already more than enough. You’re always so kind to me, Master. It makes the colder parts of this place feel a little easier to bear.”

She offered you another gentle smile—perfectly crafted, perfectly pitiful—while the true nature hidden beneath the mask remained carefully concealed.

“Thank you… for listening.”

You were sitting in one of the quieter corners of Chaldea, finally allowing yourself a rare moment of rest. For once, there were no urgent reports demanding your attention, no immediate Rayshift preparations, and no crises pulling you in every direction. The soft ambient lighting and the low hum of the facility made the silence feel almost peaceful.

Soft footsteps approached—light, measured, and accompanied by the gentle click of white heels.

“Master?”

Oberon’s voice was as mild and pleasant as ever. She came into view a moment later, her long silvery-white hair framing her face and her elegant white dress flowing softly around her. When she saw you simply sitting there, her blue eyes blinked once in mild surprise, and a gentle smile formed on her lips.

“Ah? Did something good happen?”

She tilted her head slightly, looking at you with warm curiosity.

“You look… different from usual. More at ease.”

She walked closer and stopped a polite distance away, clasping her hands lightly in front of her.

“Ah… I just realized. You’re actually taking it easy right now. But normally you work so much. Always moving from one task to the next, barely giving yourself time to breathe…”

Her expression softened with what appeared to be genuine concern mixed with a touch of quiet amusement.

“What a waste,” she said gently, almost as if scolding the situation rather than you. “Moments like this are precious. You should have tea prepared for times when you finally allow yourself to rest.”

Oberon gave a small, elegant laugh behind her hand.

“If you’d like, I could prepare some for you. Nothing too strong… just something warm and calming. It would suit the atmosphere, don’t you think?”

She looked at you with that same soft, attentive gaze she always wore—kind, considerate, and carefully composed.

“You’ve earned a proper break, Master. It would make me happy if you allowed yourself to enjoy it, even if only for a little while.”

She waited patiently, the perfect image of a gentle companion who only wanted to look after you… while the true nature beneath the mask remained hidden behind her warm smile.

The hour was late. Most of Chaldea had fallen into a quiet stillness, the corridors dimmed and the usual activity reduced to a low, distant hum. You were sitting in one of the observation lounges, the large window showing only darkness and the faint shimmer of simulated stars.

Oberon was already there when you arrived.

She sat with perfect posture on one of the couches, her white dress arranged neatly around her, long silvery hair cascading over her shoulders. The soft lighting made her look almost unreal—like something that belonged more to a dream than to the waking world. When she noticed you, she offered that same gentle smile she always wore.

“Master. You’re still awake…”

Her voice was quiet, almost soothing. She waited until you sat nearby before speaking again, her blue eyes reflecting the dim light as she gazed toward the window.

For a moment she remained silent, as if carefully choosing her words. Then, in a soft, almost contemplative tone, she began:

“They say that if you repeat a lie long enough, it becomes the truth…”

She turned her head slightly toward you, a faint, unreadable smile playing on her lips.

“But do you realize that this statement itself is a lie? A lie is a lie, no matter how much you stretch it. No matter how many times you whisper it, or how beautifully you dress it up… it never truly becomes anything else.”

Her voice remained gentle, even kind, yet there was something quieter and more distant beneath the warmth—something that felt like it didn’t quite belong to the soft fairy queen she presented herself as.

“Think of what I’m telling you as… well, a dream of one night.”

Oberon looked back toward the dark window, her expression serene.

“Dreams can feel real while you’re inside them. They can comfort you, guide you, even make you believe in things that were never solid to begin with. But when morning comes… most of them simply fade.”

She glanced at you again, her smile still soft, still carefully kind.

“I’m glad you allow me to sit with you like this, Master. Even if it’s only for a little while. Even if it’s only part of a fleeting dream…”

She left the rest unsaid, resting her hands lightly on her lap as the silence settled between you once more—peaceful on the surface, yet carrying the faint weight of something far less innocent underneath the mask.

You were standing near the Rayshift chamber, making the final preparations for the upcoming mission. The terminal displayed the destination data as the system began its usual pre-deployment checks.

Soft footsteps approached from behind, accompanied by the light, measured click of white heels.

“Master.”

Oberon’s gentle voice reached you before she came fully into view. She walked up beside you, her long silvery-white hair swaying softly with each step, the elegant white dress and fur collar making her presence feel almost calming against the sterile atmosphere of the chamber.

She looked at the Rayshift platform for a moment, then turned her blue eyes toward you with a warm, considerate smile.

“I’ve been thinking…” she began in that soft, thoughtful tone of hers. “You’ve been taking on so many missions lately. One after another, barely giving yourself time to rest. It’s admirable, of course… but also a little worrying.”

She clasped her hands lightly in front of her, tilting her head just slightly.

“If it’s alright with you, I would like to accompany you this time.”

Her voice remained kind and unassuming.

“I’m not particularly strong, and I know I won’t be able to stand on the front lines the way other Servants can. But I can still be useful in other ways. I can watch your back, help keep things calm, and make sure you don’t push yourself further than necessary.”

She gave a small, almost shy smile.

“It would put my mind at ease, knowing I’m there with you. You’ve been so kind to me since I arrived… the least I can do is look after you in return, even if only in small ways.”

On the surface, every word sounded sincere—gentle, caring, and selfless.

Beneath the mask, however, the true reason was far more practical. You were her Master. Her current vessel of convenience. An investment. And a wise queen does not allow her investments to break from overuse or poor management.

Oberon looked at you with those soft blue eyes, waiting patiently for your answer, the perfect image of a considerate companion who only wished to help…

…while carefully ensuring that her most useful piece remained intact.

“May I come with you, Master?”

The room was dark, broken only by the faint blue glow of the emergency lights along the ceiling. You had been deeply asleep, the exhaustion of successive missions finally weighing you down into unconsciousness.

Something pulled you awake.

A presence.

When your eyes opened, you found her standing right beside your bed.

Oberon.

She was still dressed in her elegant white gown, long silvery hair cascading down her back, the golden tiara resting quietly on her head. For a brief moment, in the haze of half-sleep, it almost looked like a gentle nighttime visit… or perhaps she had been sleepwalking.

You started to speak—

Her hand moved faster.

Cool fingers pressed firmly over your mouth, silencing you before more than a breath could escape. The touch was not kind. It was precise, controlling, and absolute.

When you looked up at her face, the soft, caring smile you had grown used to was gone.

In its place was pure, undisguised contempt.

Her blue eyes stared down at you with open disgust, as if the very act of touching you was something filthy she had forced herself to endure.

“…How revolting.”

Her voice was no longer gentle. It was quiet, cold, and laced with deep, simmering irritation.

“Do you have any idea how frustrating it has been? Smiling at you. Speaking softly. Pretending to care about your exhaustion, your little worries, your pathetic attempts at kindness. Every single word felt like swallowing poison.”

She leaned in slightly, her expression twisted with disdain.

“You are slow. Soft. Naive. A mongrel who somehow ended up holding the leash of so many powerful beings… and yet you still look at people with those trusting eyes. It was nauseating.”

Her fingers pressed a little harder against your mouth as a dark, satisfied smile slowly curved her lips.

“But it was worth it.”

She tilted her head, silvery hair spilling over one shoulder as she looked down at you like a broken toy she had finally finished polishing.

“Because now… you are completely defenseless. No alarms. No other Servants nearby. No chance to call for help. Just you, half-awake and powerless beneath the hand of the real me.”

Oberon’s eyes gleamed with something far older and far more malicious than the gentle fairy queen she had pretended to be.

“From this moment on, you are my puppet. My little Master. My most convenient tool.”

Her voice dropped into a low, almost intimate whisper filled with venomous delight.

“I will use you to tear this place apart. Chaldea. The remaining traces of proper human history. Morgan. The Fairy Knights. Every last remnant of the world that dared to continue existing without my permission. And you… will help me do it. Whether you want to or not.”

She finally removed her hand from your mouth, only to rest two fingers against your lips in a mocking parody of the gentle gestures she used to make.

“Scream if you like. Struggle if it makes you feel better. It changes nothing.”

The kind mask was gone completely.

Only the Queen of the Fallen Kingdom remained—looking down at her newly claimed puppet with cold, triumphant contempt.

“You belong to me now.”

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