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Jellal’s vision blurred as the world around him warped and shifted, like a mirage flickering before his eyes. His senses were overwhelmed by the sound of crumbling stone and the crackling of collapsing beams, but it all felt distant now, as if he were trapped in the eye of a storm. His body was battered, every movement sending pain through his bruised muscles. His mind felt as though it had been shredded, torn apart by guilt, regret, and the weight of the devastation he had caused. He had been standing on the ruins of the Tower of Heaven, staring at the aftermath of his own actions. The Tower, a monument to his past mistakes, lay in tatters. The faces of those he had failed haunted him, Erza most of all, the one person he couldn’t save.
Then, without warning, the air around him thickened, dense and suffocating, and the ground beneath his feet trembled. It felt as if the very fabric of reality was tearing, and he couldn’t make sense of it. His head spun, dizziness overtaking him as time seemed to stretch and contort. One moment, he was amidst the ruins, the echoing memories of the Tower’s destruction ringing in his ears, and the next…
It wasn’t possible.
He was back.
Back in his younger body, standing at the edge of the small village, the same place where it had all begun. The streets that once felt so familiar were now eerily unchanged: simple houses nestled against rolling hills, children’s laughter spilling from the square, the scent of freshly baked bread wafting from the bakery down the road. It was as if time had never moved forward, and yet, everything around him seemed to mock the past he’d known.
Jellal’s breath hitched, his chest tight as his heart pounded painfully against his ribs. Could this really be happening? Was this some sort of twisted dream, or had he truly been given a second chance? His hands trembled, the world around him almost too perfect, too innocent to be real.
He couldn’t let this slip away.
His mind raced. There was hope now—tiny, fragile hope—but it was there. He could stop the future from unfolding the way he knew it would. The pain, the destruction, the tragedy—they didn’t have to happen. Not again.
He clenched his fists, his knuckles white with the force. His eyes darted across the town, his heart hammering in his chest. He could change this. The future he had lived through: twisted, filled with betrayal and bloodshed, was a nightmare he would never let become reality. He could protect Erza. He could protect them all.
But it wasn’t just about saving her from the horror of the Tower. It was about saving himself—the man he had become. The weight of his sins was a heavy cloak draped over his soul, and he would never forgive himself for the way he had destroyed everything.
But now, in this moment, in this version of time, he had a chance to rewrite it all.
Erza… She would be trapped again, caught in the same nightmare that had broken him. His chest tightened at the thought of her, of the woman he had failed, of her pain, her suffering. Would she trust him now? Would she even recognise the man standing before her? How could she? The person she had once known was long gone, replaced by someone who had caused her nothing but harm.
But there was time. He still had time to make it right. He still had a chance to earn back what he had lost.
The faintest shift in the air snapped him from his thoughts, a subtle pull in the pit of his stomach—a sensation that was so familiar, yet foreign. He didn’t have to search for her. He could feel her presence as if it were woven into the very fabric of the town. His heart skipped a beat.
She was here.
===
Erza stood by the village fountain, her bright crimson hair glinting in the sunlight, a striking contrast against the cool blue sky above. Her eyes, filled with youthful innocence, gazed at the rippling water, unaware of the storm brewing in Jellal’s chest. She was a picture of purity, untouched by the weight of the world, unaware of the terrible fate that loomed just beyond the horizon. It was almost too much to bear, seeing her like this, knowing the suffering that awaited her. The girl he had failed once more, the girl who would once again be caught in the ruthless grip of destiny, unless he could stop it.
Jellal’s feet moved of their own accord, the pull of his emotions stronger than his thoughts. He approached her slowly, every step deliberate, each one heavier than the last. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say—how to begin, how to explain this impossible thing that had happened. Was it even possible to make her understand? Could he trust her with the truth? Or should he approach this carefully, like easing a scared animal from the shadows?
It was too soon. Too fragile.
Erza didn’t notice him at first. She stood there, absently tossing a stone into the fountain, watching the ripples spread out in gentle waves. The sound of her soft breathing, the furrow of her brow, her graceful movements—it all felt like a dream. This was the past. She didn’t know. She couldn’t possibly know.
When she finally looked up, her gaze was sharp, piercing, as if she could sense something had changed in him. The world seemed to hold its breath, suspended in the weight of that moment.
"Jellal," she said, her voice a cold, familiar knife. "What are you doing here?"
Her words struck him like a physical blow, every syllable more real than the world around him. How much had changed? How much of him had she seen through the years to make her so wary? He wasn’t the man she once knew. Not anymore.
"I… I need to speak with you," he managed, his voice thick, the words fighting their way out of his chest. It felt like the weight of every mistake he had ever made was carried in that simple statement. "I… I’ve changed."
She didn’t immediately respond, just studied him for a long moment, her eyes flicking over his face, his stance. He could almost feel the intensity of her scrutiny, the way she dissected him with the sharpness of someone who had been burned too many times. She wasn’t foolish. She knew better than anyone not to trust easily, especially not him.
"Speak, then," Erza said, her arms folding over her chest. There was a sharp edge to her voice, but there was also something else. Something faint—an underlying curiosity, maybe? A hesitation she hadn’t expected. "I don’t have time for games."
Jellal swallowed hard, the guilt choking him. How could he even begin to explain? "Erza, I’m not the man you remember. I’ve changed." The words tasted bitter on his tongue, thick with the weight of the past. "I’m here to stop something terrible from happening. Something that involves you. Something that… involves all of us."
Her eyes narrowed, suspicion radiating from every inch of her. She studied him silently, her gaze calculating. He could feel the walls she was building between them, brick by brick, just as she had so many times before.
"And why should I believe you?" she asked, her voice like ice.
The coldness of her distrust sliced through him, but Jellal refused to back down. "Because I know what happens. I know what I did. And I can’t let it happen again."
The silence stretched on, heavy and suffocating. It felt as though the entire world was holding its breath, waiting for her decision. Then, the quiet was shattered by a rustling in the bushes nearby. Without hesitation, Erza’s hand shot to the hilt of her sword, her sharp eyes scanning the area. In the blink of an eye, a group of bandits emerged from the shadows, leering, weapons drawn.
Jellal’s instincts kicked in. In a blur of motion, he moved: precise, controlled, the knowledge of his future self guiding his every action. Within moments, the bandits were sprawled on the ground, unconscious, their weapons scattered, not a single fatal injury to be found.
Erza stood frozen, eyes wide, her sword still held high, as if waiting for some sign that this was all real. Jellal caught her gaze, his breath catching in his throat. For a split second, there was something in her eyes, something almost like recognition, but it was gone before he could grasp it.
"Are you satisfied?" Erza asked quietly, her voice sharp but softer now, less guarded.
Jellal exhaled, the tension finally easing from his shoulders. "I just wanted to prove that I’m not here to hurt you. Not any more. I’m here to protect you, Erza. And I’ll do whatever it takes to stop what happens in the future."
For a fleeting moment, her guard seemed to waver, just the slightest hint of something unspoken passing between them. She didn’t lower her sword, but her expression softened, just a little.
"You’re asking me to trust you," she murmured, almost to herself.
"I’m asking for a chance," Jellal replied, his voice steady but filled with a quiet desperation.
===
The days that followed were slow, and every moment was a test. Jellal tried to show her that he was sincere, that the man standing before her wasn’t the one who had been a puppet of Ultear, who had destroyed so much. He helped her with tasks, offered his support without asking for anything in return. He worked beside her, careful not to push too hard, too soon. But Erza, ever perceptive, wasn’t so easily fooled.
She watched him; always watching, always evaluating. Her eyes were sharp, and even when she didn’t say a word, Jellal could feel the weight of her scepticism on him. Sometimes, he’d catch her staring at him, and he would know she was looking for signs of the old Jellal, the one who had been so easily manipulated, the one who had caused her so much pain.
But every time Erza looked at him now, there was something else in her gaze. Something fragile, something uncertain.
One evening, as they sat on a small hill overlooking the village, the sun setting behind them, Jellal opened up. "I remember everything," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I remember the Tower of Heaven, the pain, the mistakes I made… the way I hurt you."
Erza didn’t look at him, but he could feel her tension. Her shoulders were stiff, her jaw set tight. "I don’t need you to apologise."
"I’m not apologising for that," he replied, his voice thick. "I’m telling you because I’m trying to make a different choice. I want to make up for the things I did."
"You can’t undo the past," she said flatly, but there was something softer beneath the words. "Not for me."
Jellal’s chest tightened. He had known it wouldn’t be easy. But he wouldn’t give up. Not this time. "I’m not asking for forgiveness, Erza. I’m asking for a chance to make it right."
Erza’s voice softened. "And you think you can change all that? Change everything we went through?"
"I have to try," he said simply. "For both of us."
===
The news came swiftly, and it was exactly what they had feared: an attack that would set the events of the Tower of Heaven into motion. The news spread fast through the village, and Jellal’s heart sank. This was it, the moment they had both been dreading. The hinge point that could tip everything toward disaster.
Jellal knew that if they didn’t act now, everything would fall into place, just as it had in the future. The tragedy would begin, and there would be no stopping it.
"We have to stop this," Jellal said, determination clear in his voice. "I won’t let it happen again. Not to you. Not to anyone."
Erza’s face was tense, her eyes scanning the situation. "And how do you plan to stop it?" she asked, though there was a flicker of something else, something like trust, or maybe even hope.
Jellal stepped forward, his resolve unwavering. "We’ll do whatever it takes. We’ll protect the village, confront the attackers, and change the course of history. I can’t let the tragedy unfold again. Not on my watch."
Erza hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. Let’s do it. Together.”
===
They moved swiftly, working in perfect harmony to thwart the attack, their movements fluid as though they were one. Jellal’s knowledge of the future, his ability to foresee the path ahead, gave them an undeniable advantage. With quick, precise action, they disarmed the bandits and rallied the villagers, turning what could have been a tragic fate into a victory. The threat was neutralised, the suffering averted.
As the dust settled and the villagers erupted in cheers, Jellal and Erza stood side by side. He turned toward her, his gaze soft, yet filled with something deeper than just relief. There was hope in his eyes—an emotion he hadn’t allowed himself to feel for so long. “We did it,” he murmured, his voice steady but heavy with meaning. “We changed the course of events.”
Erza stood silently for a moment, her thoughts quiet as she took in their victory. Her expression softened, her usual strength giving way to something gentler. A faint smile touched her lips, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to believe in the possibility of something beyond the endless struggle. “Maybe… maybe there’s a chance for a different future,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, as though she was testing the words, seeing if they fit.
In that fleeting moment, with the stars beginning to twinkle overhead, the world felt still. The weight of everything that had come before seemed lighter, almost irrelevant compared to the space between them now. They shared a look, one that said everything words could not. It wasn’t just the mission, or the battle they’d fought, it was the unspoken bond that had been growing quietly between them, like the gentle spark of a flame beginning to catch.
The future, uncertain as it was, no longer seemed so intimidating. There was a shared belief between them now, something rooted in their own courage and the trust they’d begun to place in one another. They weren’t just fighting for survival any more, they were fighting for a chance, for something better. And in that fight, they weren’t alone.
As dawn broke, casting a soft glow over the land, they prepared to part ways, the weight of the moment heavy in the quiet air. Jellal’s heart felt lighter than it had in years, the burden of his past, of his guilt, slowly easing away. His thoughts turned inward for a brief moment, maybe this was redemption, not just for the world, but for him too.
Erza, standing just a few steps away, was silent, but her eyes followed him. There was something in her gaze; something tentative, yet certain. Her trust, once so hard to earn, was now beginning to bloom, though it was still delicate, like a seed planted in freshly turned soil. The distance between them felt smaller, their connection clearer, even though neither would dare put it into words just yet.
Jellal turned, taking one last look at her before walking away, his steps slow but purposeful. In his heart, a silent vow echoed. This was only the beginning. Whatever the future held, he would fight for it: redeemed, renewed, and with a quiet but unwavering determination to make things right.
And somewhere in the distance, as the sun rose higher, Erza stood watching him go. A faint smile lingered on her lips, one that spoke of hope, of something more than she had dared to dream before. For the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to imagine a future where there was room for both of them. A future where they would face whatever came next, not as two people bound by their pasts, but as two souls linked by a shared purpose, each a light guiding the other through the unknown.
This, she realised, was just the beginning. And maybe, just maybe, they would find that together, they could shape something new.