Chapter 4 – Lune Charlotte Von Heinseberg (Part 2)
"Why did you come to meet me?" Jack asked, pushing himself up from the bed and standing tall.
His voice was calm, but his eyes betrayed his curiosity. "I understand that you're from the future… and that we're married. But that doesn't explain why you traveled to the so-called past just to meet a younger version of me."
This question lingered at the core of Jack's unease. It was the one thing he couldn't wrap his head around. If Lune truly knew the future version of him—had shared a life with him—then what sense did it make to return and see a version of him that hadn't yet lived that future?
But the moment those words left his lips, Lune's expression shifted entirely. Her bright smile dimmed, her features tightening into something far more haunted. A glint of pain surfaced in her eyes—deep, weathered, and almost traumatized.
She inhaled softly, as if steadying herself.
"…"
A strange stillness crept into the room. The atmosphere thickened, and a coldness—not physical but emotional—wrapped itself around them. Jack felt it immediately.
"It's something bad, isn't it?" he asked quietly. "Did I… die?"
Lune slowly shook her head. "I… I don't know where my husband is. When I was forced out… I only managed to catch a glimpse of him. So no, I don't know what happened."
Jack blinked. "Forced out?"
"I can't explain everything right now," she replied, voice tight. "There are things you wouldn't understand until you've seen them yourself. But what you should know, Jack, is that one of the reasons I came here—into the past—is because you… your future self… told me to."
She took a breath. "He said it was the only way to save my life."
Jack's expression darkened. "Save your life from what?"
"From our enemies," she said grimly. "People with strength and influence you can't yet imagine."
As she clenched her teeth, a pulse of invisible energy radiated from her, and the entire room responded. Jack suddenly felt his knees buckle slightly, like gravity itself had doubled in an instant. A suffocating weight crashed down on him, pressing against his chest and bones.
Lune's face twisted into a look of fury—rage and pain bubbling beneath the surface of her beauty.
But just as quickly, she caught herself. "Oh! I'm sorry, my love!" she gasped, instantly cutting off the pressure.
"Hah…" Jack exhaled in relief, feeling the crushing weight vanish from his body. 'What was that?' he thought, his heart pounding. 'It felt like gravity itself had increased… and it all came from her…'
Jack had only ever heard about Chronists through media interviews and scattered reports. The truth of their power was murky—some hailed them as world-ending weapons, others dismissed the idea as exaggerated myth.
But now, standing in the aftermath of that brief moment of suffocating energy, Jack realized one thing for certain: Lune's power wasn't an illusion. It was terrifying. And she hadn't even shown him the extent of it.
She was something else entirely. A being not born of this world. A force this planet could not contain, let alone create.
"So," he muttered, collecting himself, "the future me sent you here… to meet me in the past, just to save your life?"
"Yes," Lune nodded, her voice gentler now. "Coming to the past was the safest choice. And it gives me the chance to warn you about what's coming. About what could happen."
Jack sat back down, processing her words. His mind spun with questions, but one thought settled most clearly: So I do become someone… someone important enough for all of this to matter.
"The fact that I ended up meeting you in the future," he began, staring ahead, "I assume that means I became someone significant? Or at least important enough for someone like you to cross paths with me."
Lune giggled softly as she floated closer to him. "Important? No, no…"
She landed beside him, eyes gleaming. "When I met my Jack… he wasn't just important. He was the strongest Chronist the world had ever seen. I saw it with my own eyes. You're incredibly special, Jack. A genius by every measure."
She wrapped her arms around him from behind. However, the boy completely forgot about her touch.
The moment she said it—that word—Jack flinched. It was subtle, but Lune felt it immediately. Her eyes widened in realization.
"Oh no…" she whispered. "I didn't mean to use that word. I'm sorry, Jack. I know you don't like it."
Jack blinked, slightly taken aback. 'She knows I hate being called that…'
That was something very few people were aware of. Not even his own parents fully understood how much that word made him recoil. It wasn't just a matter of modesty or discomfort—it was something deeper. A reflexive rejection of being labeled that way.
'So she really does know me… or at least, she knows him. My future self must have told her everything…'
The thought didn't sit well with him.
Jack frowned. 'What happened to me? What happened over the next ten years that made me trust someone enough to share everything?'
He stared at Lune again, expression unreadable. She returned the gaze, her violet eyes searching his. Silence hung in the air between them, heavy and unmoving.
Thirty seconds passed. Neither of them blinked.
Then, Lune slowly leaned in, her cheeks tinged with pink. Her lips parted slightly as she murmured, "Jack…"
But just before she could get any closer, she found his hand gently stopping her.
"Don't," he said, standing up once more. "Even if you knew me… I don't know you. And I'm not about to kiss someone I don't know."
He could see the love in her eyes—the depth of her feelings was undeniable. But it didn't matter. That love was for someone else. Not him.
As far as Jack was concerned, this woman had fallen in love with a man who no longer existed… or hadn't yet come into being.
Lune's smile faltered. Her expression dropped in disappointment. But after a moment, she offered a soft, bittersweet smile. "You're right. I'm sorry…"
Jack tilted his head slightly. "Can I ask something else?"
"Of course."
"How old are you?"
She blinked, caught off guard by the question. "Hm? I'm 143 years old," she answered, tilting her head adorably, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
"…143?" Jack raised an eyebrow.
"I've heard that's quite old by your world's standards."
"It is. The average life expectancy here is around 85."
"Oh my," she smiled again. "Then I must be quite the old woman. That's a little sad to hear… I still feel youthful where I come from."
She chuckled to herself. "In my world, we can live for thousands of years under the right conditions."
"Thousands?" Jack echoed.
He fell silent for a moment. 'What kind of world could support such lifespans? What makes the difference?' His mind drifted again, tracing invisible lines between her words, her powers, and the strange future that seemed to pull him forward whether he liked it or not.
'What kind of world is it? The one people are being sent to?'