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The young Feline looks hesitantly at the window. Her face is shrouded in helplessness. Time drifts slowly by in the pitch dark of this abandoned tower.

She spends a brief moment pondering in silence, before finally letting out a long sigh and freeing an exhausted smile. It seems the weight on her shoulders is gone.

You're right.

Now, if you still feel down in the dumps, just cry it all out. Nobody's around to judge you.

No... It's okay... Thanks...

That's more like it.

The Great Witch says, as long as the sun rises tomorrow, there is still hope.

As long as... there... is a...

Hum? Um?! Miss Haze, what's the matter?!

Be careful... stay away from me...

Miss Haze! What's wrong?

Go... hurry...

What's wrong? Why is your body so hot?

Hang in there! Wake up!

Somebody! Please help!

Miss Haze... Stay with me. We... We're almost to the city...

I... I can barely carry you anymore...

S-Sorry, I don't mean you're heavy, you're really very light, I just don't have much strength...

The girl on her back grows weaker and weaker by the minute.

She can feel a vibrant life slowly fading away.

A wet, yet warm feeling gushes onto her back and gradually spreads all over.

This... What is this...?

Is it... blood?

Dark red blood spills from the girl's mouth and nose, dripping onto the ground.

Susie knows what this means. All Infected do.

No... No... No...

Haze... Please... I'm begging you...

Ever since she left home five years ago, she's witnessed the passing of many Infected.

With each death she's seen, she's grown increasingly numb to them.

This is the fate that awaits all Infected.

But, for some reason, she finds herself unwilling to bear the pain of this life disappearing before her.

Please! Miss Haze... Please... No...

Hang on... We're almost there...

She sets the girl down to ease her pain.

She tightly grasps Haze's hand and tries her best to wipe away the blood on her face.

Hopeless though it may be, she tries her hardest to stall the coming of death.

Yet death draws ever nearer. It all seems to come to such a meaningless head.

Help... Help!!!

Anyone... Please...

Help me...

Help me...

Her low cries pierce through the empty night sky, echoing throughout the empty, abandoned streets.

Just then, she hears someone walking slowly towards them.

Susie...? What are you doing here?

《终将同行》We Will All Go Together

November 23rd, 1097, 8:45 P.M.

Huff, I'm worn to the bone...

Who do these people think they are, and where do all their funny ideas come from? What in the world goes on in their heads?

Those councilors are nothing but—

Nothing but—idiots!!

Pff.

I'm so sorry you have to sit there noting everything they said. You must feel like a stack of broken records...

Their proposals aren't even for the sake of the Infected. How much speaking between the lines can an institution with the final say on Infected capacity do? Are they under the impression no one has a clue what they're up to?

Whatever institution gets to call the shots, whatever standards they allot work by once their shots are called, whatever work unit gets priority for taking on Infected employees... Of course I know what's going on, it's all a game of interests.

They haven't discussed the reality for the Infected, but they don't wrestle over what benefits who either, so what is the SENSE in them prattling on and on in circles?

The councilors are all noble-sorts. Whether or not they'd give Infected reality any thought, they don't and won't argue about slicing the cake in open view.

They haven't hashed out a single thing since this meeting started! Each of them has been saying Infected on loop, but they've made ZERO progress!

Everyone's denying everyone else's motions, but nobody's even pulled out a single useful solution. What ARE they producing all these proposals for?

That's their form of contact-free war, Skyfire. Victorian city councils all go through this rigmarole before the allocation of interests they actually mean ever gets carried out.

And then that Councilor Janeway—

Saying he's doing it to help the Infected make more money, have more freedom of choice, live a better quality of life. Oh, he makes himself sound SO charitable.

'If we place no restrictions on the Infected's work hours, then they'll be free to choose their own, and that's more money in their bank.'

Your imitation's startling.

...That smarmy hypocrite tone of his really makes my stomach churn!

He knows full well just how scant Infected pay can be, and the bulk of it doesn't even land in their own pockets. And he still acts like he's been pouring his heart out for... drgh.

He did suggest a plan of action—reconstruct the Infected neighborhood directly into a factory so all the people have work, assigned living quarters, and can provide for themselves. It's a patch on most countries' policies, you can't even argue that.

Keh!

They're all too arrogant here.

Hm? Something else up?

Like those lords opposed to any new policy for the Infected...

Saying they want all the foreign Infected out, no matter how long they've been here, if they've settled down, if they've already adapted to life here...

All their proposals are just about driving these people out. And then what? You want those Infected refugees running out their time in the wastelands?

Have they thought for one second about where these people at the end of their rope are going to go?

Pff.

*Sigh* That's a council for you.

Excuse me...?

That's a council for you.

If anyone here was actually looking out for the Infected, then they wouldn't call it the council anymore. They'd call it an Infected aid association.

The aim of both sides is very clear. They want to rule out the most infeasible plans in public first, then negotiate concessions with other so they can find equilibrium, and that's business as usual.

But a lot of people have been counting on the 'White Wolf' Count to declare where he stands. I think it caught everyone off that his vote was to abstain today.

'White Wolf' Skamandros... He hasn't expressed any governmental viewpoint for a good half a year. And it's anyone's guess why...

This shouldn't be... This can't be...

Ah—I was the most naive one in the whole room.

I thought there'd be a few clear heads, at the very least. Even if they're out to keep Caladon running at status quo, at least they'd bring forth a few proposals that resembled reality.

But they're just using the council as a place to game each other. What's driving them is how they alone can profit.

Oh, you're repeating yourself, Miss Mountbelan. At least now you know they're all self-interested sorts when you go back in? The fact shouldn't shock you at this point.

Hold on, I thought you didn't drink...

If they think this is fine, then it's all going to blow up sooner or later!

Mmm?

One day, sooner or later, mark my words! Constant oppression, constant exploitation! How long can this hold for? Do they really not understand? Nobody wants to live this way...

Even if they only have the faintest glimmer of hope, they want to survive! They'll break their backs to survive! I know that full well!

...Miss Mountbelan, I think you lost the thread somewhere along the way.

No one's born evil. No one's born stripping other people of their lives for fun... From the very beginning, they were all just Infected endeavoring to survive.

Mm—and I'm just a friend endeavoring to stop you drinking any more.

Are they just meant to settle with being inferior, tuck themselves away? Were those lords meant to be born as nobles, meant to exploit them for their own interests?

It's a house of idiots! If none of them ever think to rein it in, the Infected are bound to revolt sooner or later...

These ungrasped questions... everyone's lives will be destroyed...

We can't let all the... Reunion business... happen again...

No, we can't, and you can't take a single glass more. You've drunk plenty enough. Just leave it for a moment. Water?

No! I was still drinking that... give me another! They won't listen to me... I'm the one in the right!