She looked... different.
Not just older or changed—no, Marie looked a little frailer compared to back then. She had always been small in stature, but now... now she seed even smaller, almost as if the weight of sothing invisible was pressing down on her shoulders. Her fra seed more delicate, her presence less imposing than I rembered.
"Marie," I said slowly, studying her expression. "You don’t really intend to tell about Moriarty, do you?"
Her eyes shifted toward , calm but unreadable.
"Why do you want to know sothing like that?" she asked, her tone carrying a quiet challenge. "I don’t even know if I’d be able to tell you anything that would actually be useful."
"Anything at all," I pressed. "Even just how he’s living, what he’s been up to—anything. That’s still a hell of a lot more helpful than nothing."
She let out a soft, almost mocking giggle. "Fufu... do you really think I’d tell you, even if you asked like this?" Her lips curled into a faint smile, and there was sothing sharp hiding behind it.
"Well, it doesn’t hurt to try," I said, my voice dropping lower. "But I’ll tell you this—I’m running out of patience. That man is causing more trouble than I can count, and he’s incredibly hard to track. I can’t even figure out exactly who he is or where he’s hiding. And with you being the only real connection I’ve got, it’s only natural I’d co to you with my questions. Don’t you think?"
"You’re barking up the wrong tree, Leon," she replied without hesitation. "He’s very important to . So naturally, I won’t sell him out. And I’m sure... if the situation was reversed, and push ca to shove, you’d do sothing very similar, wouldn’t you?"
I stared at her, holding her gaze. There was no flinch in her eyes—only certainty.
"I’m sorry for what I did back then," she continued, her tone softening just slightly. "Almost killing so of your people... Well, I guess sothing like that can’t be easily forgiven, huh?"
The words stirred sothing sharp in . Marie had been the one to tell Moriarty about my relationships with won—not all of them, but she made damn sure to single out Gabrielle. Soone who ant everything to . And because of that, Gabrielle had co dangerously close to getting herself killed.
It was only because Scarlet had managed to save her that day that Gabrielle was still alive. Honestly? If she hadn’t been... I didn’t know what I would’ve done to Marie right now. And that wasn’t an exaggeration.
"That wasn’t my intention at all," she said, as if reading my thoughts. "But I’m not going to say it was just so misfortunate accident either. I don’t want to slap a label on sothing like that—especially not one as heavy as calling it a cri. Not sothing that severe."
I exhaled slowly, my patience thinning.
"You’re not going to tell about him, are you? Or what his real goal is? No matter how much I push?" I asked.
"Even if you tortured or killed , my tongue and lips would stay sealed. You wouldn’t get past them. That’s how serious I am about this," she said firmly, her eyes locking onto mine without a hint of fear.
I studied her for a mont, then shifted the conversation. "Well then, tell this—what world did the two of you live in before coming here?"
Her expression twitched, a brief flicker of surprise in her eyes. "...What?"
"You told you were trying to open a rift to another world, right? Or sothing along those lines?" I said, keeping my voice even. "Well, there are rifts and portals across this world that lead to other places, but so far, they’ve only led to futuristic, AI-filled worlds. At first, I thought maybe that was your world... but now? I’m starting to believe it’s sowhere else entirely."
A slow smirk ford on her lips as she listened.
"Listen, Leon," she said, leaning forward slightly, her gaze sharp. "What do you think this world really is?"
"I have no idea," I admitted.
"Have you ever read so of this world’s history? It’s actually... quite the read. Interesting, entertaining even. It’s full of stories—so inspiring, so unbearably tragic. So tragic that you can’t help but think they’re too much for just ordinary lives. I an... what if it’s all fiction?"
Her words hung in the air, heavy but strange. I wasn’t entirely sure where she was going with it, but I could start to sense the direction of her thoughts.
There were countless lives recorded in history that felt far too tragic to be real, too brutal to be just chance. And there were events that defied belief—things no ordinary person could realistically pull off. It was the kind of thing that made you question how much of it was truth... which was why historians even existed in the first place.
"Everything happens for a reason, Leon," she continued, her voice steady but layered with aning. "Don’t you think there could be countless reasons why events like those happen? Have you heard of the great Jeanne, the one who ended the Hundred Year War?"
Of course I had. Everyone in this world knew her na. Jeanne—the goddess who had brought an end to a war that had ravaged the land so deeply it had beco unrecognizable.
But why was she bringing her up now? And where exactly was this conversation headed?
"I really have no idea what my purpose here is," Marie said quietly. "It’s just that... I promised him. A man from the future, whose world was so bleak that he had to co back to the distant past to change the outco."
I raised an eyebrow, my voice tightening. "A man from the future?"
"Jas Moriarty loves that man," she said without hesitation. "Perhaps loves him to the point that he’d do anything—anything—for him to get what he wants. To make sure that man achieves his goal."
So... all of this. Everything Moriarty was doing—it was for the sake of so man from the future?
"And you’re following this too, Marie?" I asked, my tone sharper now.
She t my gaze with a faint smile. "That man is the one who saved . Naturally... I’ll help him."
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