(Fate/Grand Order TF, Jalter to Cow)

It was a beautiful day outside. The birds were chirping, the trees gently rustled in a cool breeze, and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. A nearby brook babbled gently, water rushing as if to underscore the tranquility that life could have.

Which was exactly why it had to be a trap.

Jalter, or Jeanne D’Arc Alter if she wanted to see someone struggle around the mouthful of her name, glared suspiciously at the grass beneath her bare toes. She wiggled them for good measure, as though that would cause vines to erupt from the ground and snare her fast.

To be fair, her suspicions weren’t without warrant. She was a Servant, after all. As a being summoned from the Throne of Heroes, she only materialized when things were at their words—or when her Master wanted cuddles. But given that she didn’t see them around, that left one option: trap.

Another moment of glaring at anything that moved, and her patience reached its limit. “Yo! I’ve got shit to do!”

“Do, do, doo, dooo,” her voice echoed mockingly.

She snorted, kicking at the grass. “Just my luck. One second I’m in Chaldea, doing…” She paused, pale brow furrowing. “What was I doing?”

Try as she might, she couldn’t quite remember the exact moment she’d been summoned here. Was it even a summon, or had it been a Rayshift? Was this a Singularity?

Her mind raced, but she wasn’t known for her powers of deduction. Combat suited her much better, followed closely by art. Art… That could be a clue. She thought about the last thing she was drawing before coming here. Some of the pages of her manga came to mind, but the rest…

If it wasn’t a pun, she’d have thought she was drawing a blank.

As Jalter tried to concentrate, the hairs rose on the back of her neck. It was like something was wrong, even though she couldn’t feel any disturbance in the air, much less a spike in magical energy. She set her worries to the back of her mind, in what would prove a costly mistake.

More and more hairs continued to rise; then grow. New, soft fur started to spread from the back of her neck, down towards her spine. She shuddered slightly, but resisted the urge to itch at them. It was a pity, because that might have let her know what was happening.

Instead, she kept trying to focus on what she’d been doing. For some reason, she kept thinking of herself in the cafeteria, chewing on a salad. That didn’t make much sense either. She was a French Servant, but her tastes tended towards thoroughly fried Japanese and German foods. Yet for some reason, she couldn’t get the thought of leafy greens out of her head.

“Mmm…” Jalter moaned slightly, jaw working of its own accord. She could feel blades of lettuce coming apart beneath her molars, their fresh flavor perfect for her stomach. Only something was still wrong. This salad tasted… Fresher. Greener. It was like it was freshly uprooted from the ground.

Her soft hands played across her toned abs, which began to soften beneath the pressure of her fingers. Her fantasy was too vivid to break; however, and she didn’t notice as her figure started to balloon outward. Pound after pound of fat packed onto her body, until her thighs ached just from the effort of standing.

She snorted at that, unknowningly flaring her petite nose. Her nostrils widened, rounding a bit more with each breath through her nose. Thick mucus clogged her sinuses, and she snorted again, coughing. “The hell!? Do I have allergies or someMOO!”

Her eyes snapped open in time to see her bulbous nose grow further from her eyes, taking her mouth along for the ride. Her hands clenched, sinking painfully into the massive gut she now sported, feeling the soft black-and-white fur that was now spreading across her body like the flames she was so fond of.

Jalter was too stunned to say anything, but that didn’t keep her voice from echoing back at her. “Moo, moo, mooo, moooo…”

The sounds stretched her ears like invisible hands, tugging them out, flattening and spreading them into large and heavy things that she could actually feel move. She swatted at them in panic, flinching in horror at how sensitive they were.

“N-no MMOO, I can’t MOO a MRRROOOUGH!” The fallen saint found tirade interrupted by the sudden growth of her tongue, which burst past her lips with a new wave of growth. It was thick and heavy, spilling past her lips to thump against her neck, matting her monochrome fur.

She shook her head in panic, but that only served to thump her ears against the sides of her head, and to spray her slobber against the delicious grass below herself. She paused, looking down and recognizing the taste she’d been fantasizing about.

Jalter’s belly growled insistently. A spike of hunger lanced through her nerves, and her knees went weak beneath herself. She fell onto her elbows and knees, plunging her face towards the ground like some common animal and chewing hungrily at the green leaves.

Her teeth thickened, flattening and losing the ability to easily tear at meat. Instead, they were now perfect for a lifetime of vegetation, like a good prey animal. All the while, she tried to protest. “Puh-mmph, please! Uhmmmph, Uh’m not mmpph uh mm… Mmuuh… MMMOOOO!”

“MOO, moo, mooo, moooo,” her own voice echoed back at her, deeper than she was used to.

Tears dewed at the corners of Jalter’s eyes as she gulped down a mouthful of grass and dirt. As it slid down her throat, it caught in her windpipe and she found herself coughing in fear. Facing a death on the battlefield was one thing, but choking on grass? That was an indignity she wouldn’t allow herself to suffer.

Her hands clutched at her neck, and a mute sob parted her lips as she felt her throat thickening. It was growing bigger, larger, to the point where she couldn’t even wrap her hands around it if she wanted to. The only mercy about this latest change was that it was evidently large enough to swallow her mouthful of greenery.

She fell back onto her ass, wheezing for breath. Each greedy gulp of air bloated her backside further, spreading her hips and forcing her legs to extend before herself unnaturally. She realized, too late, that she was losing the ability to stand on two legs like a person.

Not that she had much in common with people anyways. After all, she was a good cow.

The intrusive thought was a reflex, so natural that she almost missed it. But once she’d noticed it, the girl found a new reason to fear altogether. Her ears flattened against her head, and she balled her hands up in horror, pressing them against the sides of her sloping skull.

She could literally feel her brain squishing beneath her changing head, in the process smoothing out memories of her life as a human. She couldn’t even remember how to draw, let alone fight. Unfortunately, that included all of her magical defenses, leaving her open to the newest, worst change to her body.

It was a pressure beneath her gut, a heaviness that couldn’t be fought. The cramp was intense enough to drive all thought from Jalter’s head, and she thumped her elbows back behind herself, arching her spine as though she was giving birth.

“MRROOOO! MHHHUHHOOO!” She bellowed, insensate. Her tongue flopped wetly, as though that would somehow ease this along further. The pressure only grew.

It was inside her, stretching, filling, flooding. She felt like she was going to burst. Her eyes squeezed shut, and she prayed to a God she didn’t believe in, anything to make this stop. And, with that, she stretched.

It was like her skin had turned to latex, yielding to the gushing pressure. Tears spilled down her muzzle as she looked between her legs, seeing pink skin stretch out, out, out. It was an udder. Her udder. Her mouth hung slack in horror, and she pawed at it feebly.

As if responding to the growth, it grew more, heavier, fuller. Four sensitive teats budded along its mass, their presence only making things worse because of the knowledge that she could relieve this ache.

Jalter didn’t want to milk herself, but she needed to. Her hands cupped around udder, squeezing milk and pulling it through her long, pink teats. She could feel the creamy liquid bulge the base of her teats, flowing into them, stopping at her nipples where sharp pressure spiked for a second of discomfort.

Then the dam burst, and streams of milk shot from her udder, in the same instant that a ropy tail shot from her backside. The relief was immediate and pleasurable, so much so that she almost didn’t notice that it was getting harder to think.

Almost.

Her eyes widened as, too late, she realized that she was milking her intellect away. But she couldn’t stop. She curled her toes with pleasure, only for them to curl further into dark cloven bovine hooves. Her hands started to stiffen too, and for a moment she considered pulling them back, sparing something of herself.

Fear drove her to keep tugging at them, fear of having her udder stretch so damnably full again. It was at least as large as her swollen cow’s stomach, and she didn’t want to risk it getting any bigger. Even if it meant… Meant…

She didn’t know. Jalter didn’t know anything anymore, except that it felt good to keep milking herself. Unfortunately, this pleasure was stripped from her as her fingers started to stiffen.

“Nuh! NNMMOOO!” She sputtered, looking at her fingers. They were melding together, skin thickening and merging into numb, heavy hooves. “Muh! Muhmmoo! Jooltuh MMROOO!” She babbled every mangled word in her vocabulary, all two of them. All her simple brain was capable of processing was her name and mooing—though she wouldn’t remember how to say the former for much longer.

An idea, one last spark of intelligence from what had been a creative beauty, slipped between her floppy ears. She rolled onto her knees and elbows again, pressing her thighs against the warmth of her udder, mashing it against her bloated belly.

Then, slowly, she started to rock her fat body back and forth, dragging her long nipples against the ground. Milk trailed from her teats, and she smiled like a dopey idiot in relief. She could feel some of it leaking out. Some of the milk. Some of herself. Some of everything she needed to feel perfect, amazing, and incredible.

“MROO, mrrooo, mrrrooooo…”

Her ears twitched at the cry. Too stupid to understand it was her own voice, she sputtered out moos of her own. Her eyes, once so full of vigor and fire, were utterly glazed and vacant, content with the simple life of a bovine. Her tail swished against the backs of her thighs as she continued to rock more of the milk out of her body.

The only sign that she’d been human was her long, flowing hair and the breasts that adorned her bovine body. Otherwise, anyone who’d stumble upon her would think they’d found a mindless beast. Not that the cow cared.

It felt good. It was good. The only thing missing was a herd. She drooled moronically, pleasurably rocking on her udder and calling out to someone, anyone that would listen. “Ghhuh… MmmuhmmrrooOOO!”

Little did she know, that call would have far-reaching consequences. This was indeed a Singularity, and she had been cast here by a strange and terrible power. The cry she’d cast echoed across time and space itself, until it reached her home of Chaldea, connecting with the souls of the other Servants there.

It would only be a matter of time before another joined her in the fields… And another, and another after that. How many more would find their way to this paradise? How many more would lose all that had made them the champions of humanity?

Only time would tell…