Fate/Max Level Returner

"Wow, I really didn't see this coming~"

Jeanne d'Arc Alter arched an eyebrow, a meaningful smile playing on her lips as she looked at both the current Jeanne d'Arc Alter and Adam.

"Yeah, I never imagined I'd return to the First Singularity like this."

"Looking back, I was honestly pretty pathetic back then. I couldn't even bring out my Noble Phantasm."

Jeanne d'Arc spoke with a faint blush, glancing over at her other self.

The two Jeannes—one dressed in black, one in white—walked side by side toward Adam and the enemy Jeanne d'Arc Alter.

The rest of the group instinctively parted to make way for them.

"After listening for a while, I have a pretty good idea of what's going on. Hey, past me~"

"Mm, yeah. You really were quite stubborn at this stage."

Jeanne d'Arc Alter scratched the back of her head, looking somewhat troubled by her former self—though most of it was pure embarrassment.

"If it were you, little sister, I bet you'd have a much easier time talking some sense into your past self."

"I'd actually be pretty happy if I'd had you as a little sister earlier on."

Jeanne d'Arc smiled gently. There was a hint of playful teasing in her expression, but her words came from the heart.

"How many times do I have to tell you? Stop calling me little sister..."

Jeanne d'Arc Alter's cheeks flushed as she let out a cute, helpless whine.

Back in Adam's Chaldea, Jeanne d'Arc had taken to calling her "little sister," and at first Jeanne d'Arc Alter would angrily protest every single time. But Jeanne d'Arc's warm smile always disarmed her completely. No matter how hard she pushed back, it felt like punching cotton. These days, she could only sigh in defeat.

The truth was, Jeanne d'Arc Alter had run out of ways to fight it. No matter what she said, Jeanne d'Arc had firmly decided to treat her like a younger sister.

Even though Jeanne d'Arc wanted to call her family, she didn't see Jeanne d'Arc Alter as another version of herself. Instead, she viewed her as a completely different person—one who had only just been born and was deeply lost when it came to choosing her own path in life.

To Jeanne d'Arc, this "newborn" Jeanne d'Arc Alter was like an infant trying to find her way. She wanted to guide her as an older sister and help her make better choices. That was why she had chosen to take her in as a little sister.

The two of them continued chatting as they reached Adam's side.

Meanwhile, the current Jeanne d'Arc Alter watched the intimate, almost sisterly exchange between them and stood frozen in place.

The version of herself from the future was casually bantering with the very Jeanne d'Arc she currently hated with all her being. It looked exactly like a real older sister and younger sister playfully arguing.

That could only mean one thing: in the future, this Jeanne d'Arc Alter had integrated perfectly into Chaldea and become a true member of their family.

But if that was the case, she couldn't understand it at all. How could she allow herself to enjoy all of this so freely?

"Color me surprised, Master. Even you run into situations you can't handle alone sometimes."

Jeanne d'Arc Alter looked at Adam with clear amusement. In her memory, there was almost nothing his silver tongue couldn't solve.

"I do need help from time to time. Right now, I need you to add a little fuel to the fire."

"What? Don't tell me the great and powerful Jeanne d'Arc Alter isn't willing to lend a hand to her weak little Master?"

Adam gave her a teasing look in return.

His words clearly hit the right spot. Jeanne d'Arc Alter puffed out her chest, visibly pleased.

"Well, since you put it that way, I guess I can help you out—just this once."

Even though she claimed it was only "reluctantly," the bright smile blooming on her face made it obvious how happy she was to be useful to Adam.

"Alright then..."

Jeanne d'Arc Alter turned her gaze toward her past self and began thinking about what she should say.

The current Jeanne d'Arc Alter stared back with a complicated expression—confusion, jealousy, disgust, and many other emotions swirling across her face.

In the world of TYPE-MOON, it was almost like some kind of curse. When past and future selves met, one side almost always ended up hating the other. Either the past hated the future, the future hated the past, or they hated each other.

Jeanne d'Arc Alter scratched her head in bewilderment. Even though she'd agreed to help Adam, she honestly had no idea how to convince her past self. She didn't have Adam's gift for words.

After a few seconds of awkward silence, she finally spoke:

"Come on, aren't you about ready to agree already?"

"Stop being so dramatic and just say yes."

Her tone was blunt and impatient.

Adam: "..."

Hearing her words and tone, Adam pressed his lips together tightly. He turned his head mechanically and stared at Jeanne d'Arc Alter with a completely speechless look.

He began wondering whether summoning her had been the right decision after all. Wasn't she worried her past self would lose it completely with that kind of attitude?

Sure enough, the reaction came immediately.

The current Jeanne d'Arc Alter's breathing grew rapid and ragged with rage.

"Dramatic? Agree?"

"Hahahaha~" She laughed, but it was a laugh born purely from anger.

"Stop spouting nonsense! Do you even realize what we've done?!"

"I know!" Jeanne d'Arc Alter suddenly shot back with equal intensity.

Her words stirred up painful memories, but she quickly reined in her emotions and continued in a calmer voice:

"Of course I know what we did in the past. But that's the past."

"The real question is—what are you going to do from now on?"

At that question, Jeanne d'Arc Alter turned her head away, her expression clouded with conflict. She was still deeply pessimistic.

"I... don't have the right..."

Jeanne d'Arc Alter clicked her tongue. She didn't remember her past self being this pathetic.

"Stop talking about 'having the right' or not."

"Are you really planning to just die here?"

"Even if you die, what you've done won't disappear."

"You'll still be you—the Dragon Witch who burned France to the ground!"

"If it were me, I'd carry those sins, keep them burned into my heart, make a real change, and keep walking forward into the future."

Jeanne d'Arc Alter bit her lower lip. She was still hesitating, but inside her mind, one of the two little figures arguing had begun gaining the upper hand.

Seeing that the timing was right, Adam stepped in as well.

"Jeanne d'Arc Alter, ever since you were created, your mind has been filled with someone else's memories and someone else's hatred. None of that truly belongs to you."

"What you did was undeniably sinful, but the hatred that drove you to do it wasn't yours—it belonged to Gilles de Rais (Caster)."

"The past doesn't have to define you."

"Besides, in your past, you never even had the right to choose for yourself."

"But now you can."

Adam looked straight into her eyes as he spoke, as if trying to etch every word deep into her heart.

"I..."

Jeanne d'Arc Alter lowered her head. The battle between the two voices in her mind grew fiercer than ever.

Finally, she repeated the words that the losing side inside her head was still saying to the future Jeanne d'Arc Alter:

"We can't change what we are. We are the embodiment of hatred, destined only to be destroyers."

Adam glanced at her, then looked at the Jeanne d'Arc Alter standing beside him. He raised his eyebrows slightly, signaling her to do something.

Jeanne d'Arc Alter read his meaning instantly. She rolled her eyes and let out a helpless sigh, her face saying I really can't do anything with you.

To be honest, she was a little reluctant about what she was about to do. It was way too embarrassing.

She opened her hand, and magical energy rapidly gathered. She summoned her flag-bearing lance and slammed it firmly into the ground. The banner fluttered loudly in the wind.

The clear, heavy sound drew the current Jeanne d'Arc Alter's attention.

She stopped wrestling with her inner thoughts and stared at the lance in her future self's hands—specifically at the flag attached to it.

Her eyes widened uncontrollably, her pupils trembling with shock.

"That flag..."

It was the emblem of Chaldea.

The banner on Jeanne d'Arc Alter's lance proudly displayed Chaldea's symbol.

This had been done at her own request, after she asked Da Vinci to modify it.

Jeanne d'Arc Alter gently ran her fingers over the flag, her touch tender. A flood of memories seemed to flash through her eyes.

These were memories that her past self didn't have—something she longed for more than anything: memories that belonged to her alone.

"The me from the past—that is, the you standing here right now..."

"It's true. Back then, our hearts were filled with nothing but hatred and resentment. Those were the only things driving us forward."

"But now, the sword and lance I wield are no longer swung only for hatred. I have other things I care about far more deeply back in Chaldea."

As she spoke, Jeanne d'Arc Alter glanced toward Adam. The answer to what she cared about was obvious.

Adam understood perfectly. He smiled warmly at the happiness radiating from her.

Then Jeanne d'Arc Alter looked back at her past self.

"So I chose to become a Servant of Chaldea. That was my decision."

"Now, what about you? How will you choose?"

The current Jeanne d'Arc Alter didn't answer right away. She simply stared in a daze at the Chaldea flag fluttering on the lance.

Inside her mind, the two arguing voices had finally reached a conclusion.

She realized she could keep walking forward.

She could carry the weight of her sins, make amends, and change.

She could stop being nothing more than a killing machine driven by another person's hatred and resentment.

She really could make a choice—and choose a path that belonged to her.

"Jeanne d'Arc Alter, will you come with me?"

Adam extended his hand toward her once again.

She stared blankly at the hand he offered—the hand of salvation. If she took it, she could finally walk her own path.

Take his hand.

This time, that single thought completely seized control of her mind.

Jeanne d'Arc Alter slowly raised her own hand, reaching for his.

Just as she was about to step onto the road that would belong to her...

A voice suddenly rang out, throwing her thoughts into chaos once more.

"Jeanne!"

It was Gilles de Rais (Caster). After finishing the summoning ritual for the Demon God Pillar back at their base, he had rushed to the battlefield as fast as he could.

Jeanne d'Arc Alter lowered her head, her expression darkening. It was impossible to read what she was feeling.

Gilles de Rais (Caster) ran up and positioned himself between her and Adam, physically blocking the hand she had been about to take.

"Jeanne, run! I'll cover you! As long as you get away, we haven't lost yet!"

Even though he was confused by the sudden appearance of multiple Jeannes—there were four of them now?—he could tell that the ones beside Adam were enemies, while the one in front of him was the one on their side.

He also realized that they had already lost with only Jeanne d'Arc Alter left. But the maddened Gilles de Rais (Caster) refused to give up.

He was prepared to stay behind and buy time so she could escape.

Completely focused on Adam's group, Gilles failed to notice the dark expression on Jeanne d'Arc Alter's face behind him.

Jeanne d'Arc looked at Gilles with a trace of pity. She couldn't bear seeing her former comrade reduced to this inhuman state because of her death.

"Gilles, that's enough. I never held any grudge against France. What you've done is more than enough. Please, stop this."

But Gilles, his mind fractured, didn't hear a word she said. He answered mechanically on his own:

"Jeanne, just wait. I will make France pay for causing your death!"

Seeing that he was already beyond saving, Jeanne d'Arc could only shake her head helplessly.

When Gilles noticed that Jeanne d'Arc Alter still hadn't moved, he turned back and urged her desperately.

"Jeanne, hurry and run! I won't be able to hold them off for long! Once you escape, you can be summoned again later—"

Before he could finish, Jeanne d'Arc Alter cut him off.

"No, Gilles."

***

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