Глава 13

All we'd do in that city is to wait for everything to be covered in a blanket of disintegrated Originium dust, for our deaths to come one by one.

Yes.

We... can't just wait for our ends to come like this.

Nine, Talulah.

What is it?

I'm... thinking of leaving your group for a bit. Yesterday, I met some people among the refugees who escaped from Londinium.

They mentioned some... matters I'm very concerned about, that maybe someone I've been seeking this whole time is still hiding in there.

So I'll be heading over.

Londinium isn't safe at all right now.

I think Talulah already told you about me.

You're a <i>long-lived.</i>

Yes. There's no way for me to die.

I've become more and more sick of this reality of mine.

...You want to kill yourself?

How did you get your 'longevity' in the first place?

<i>Longevity,</i> heh.

How did I first come to realize the joke that fate played on me?

I had my share of happy days too.

I came to know the one and only wife I've had, had children, a family, devoted my heart and soul to Originium Arts research... of course, I was the primary focus of my studies.

My children grew up while we grew old. Everything was going as natural order of things.

Until my wife died in an accident, war broke out, and I was forced to leave my children. I suddenly realized in the years I spent as a refugee that I hadn't changed at all.

The emperors started a war, a king was hanged years later, and then the dukes' conspiracies came to light. Afterwards the Sarkaz...

I didn't change a single bit in all those years, until today.

I have nightmares everyday, and in them I hear a voice I don't recognize... or maybe it's every voice I recognize calling out to me together.

'Pain makes you live forever, and only happiness can kill you.'

Actually, I was already aware of this early on, but what can I even do to feel happiness and relief?

Especially after witnessing death after death, and experiencing tragedy after tragedy?

We're in an era of suffering and despair...so I shall go look for those hiding behind the curtain.

I have no right to make you stay.

But there's no need to say your goodbyes so quickly. If you wish to return to the nexus of the war... we might not have to go our separate ways.

Is that so? I thought you would return to Columbia after gathering up enough hands...

Running to another place will never put a stop to anything.

Fair enough. Perhaps the foes we're facing are fundamentally similar.

Also... leave a bouquet of flowers for Guard on my behalf.

I will.

Nine...

Percival, you...

I'm fine! I just... got some smoke in my eyes.

We're done registering the third batch of Infected, and all seven of them have gotten medicine from this workshop before.

They told me many Infected used to gather and live in a tiny village near this forest to access the workshop.

When the workshop was destroyed, most of them left, or died... but some still remained close by.

They were all drawn here by the huge blaze.

Indeed.

I look at the petals given to me by the person they called Mays.

The Reunion doctor here spent their life here for these herbs, and according to her, Guard also died for them.

I recognize most of these plants. The Infected used to chew them for pain relief before modern pharmaceutical companies were a thing.

Perhaps the effectiveness of our crude drugs can improve by referencing these, even if just by a little...

We can't simply wait for our end, watch ourselves wither away.

There's more work to be done.

Guard... we didn't manage a clean conclusion on our last discussion, but I have to make a decision on my own now.

Um, Nine.

We want to hold a little farewell rite for Guard, and it won't take much time to do so.

Right.

I'll make some flowers bloom here.

The enormous blaze burns throughout the night.

We finally abandon our efforts to recover Guard's body.

Red finds a beautiful sturdy tree, its trunk perfectly pointing up toward the sky.

He digs a hole and buries that cute towel of Guard's in it.

Flowers grow around the freshly dug soil.

The floral patterns on that towel were too crude. A garden like this suits him better.

I'm done questioning everyone that came out from the workshop.

The Sarkaz who died in the underground warehouse... the one who rode the motorbike.

He was murdered, by a few Infected Victorians.

They were driven out of their homes by the Sarkaz. Some of them lost their loved ones too, so they felt rightfully furious, and I, uh, calmed them down a little.

What's the plan?

Back in Ursus, everyone used to think it was through the power of unity that Reunion managed to fight together with the patrol units, taxmen and mine guards.

That wasn't the case. We simply had no other choice left to break the knife pointed at our throats.

Reunion used to act on our enmity, but our targets of hate have both become increasingly vague and broad.

The Infected have no homeland... no identity, no bloodline. We can't just carry on with just a provocative slogan.

We need to set clearer guidelines and principles.

Guard and I... discussed about this before.

He said to ignore the Infected in positions of power, because they still enjoy exploiting others with their authority and see disease as only a tool.

And that we should also grant the same kind of liberation to any oppressed people, and not just our sick brethren. Because they can fight alongside us, and we'll need their strength to put up a fight.

Chernobog has taught us enough.

He was always thinking so much about this, I thought...

I thought he could really take us to achieve some great feats.

He will, even if he's dead. He merely died when he was still seen as insignificant and deplorable.

What about those murderers?

People who violently vent their grievances unprovoked cannot join us. It was war that turned them to brutality, even if they were just Victorians before.

If we let this slide... what will happen to our group next?

Ursine, Columbian, Victorian, Leithanian. Feline, Perro, Liberi, Caprinae, Sarkaz.

Power should be distinctly directed towards a common goal than become cracks of resentment that give others a chance to dismantle us from within.

Buldrokkas'tee and Ursus should have taught us this lesson.

They will be banished.

They will have to find their own paths by themselves.

Reunion will make sure of it.

I understand.

I'll relay that to everyone, and... I'll handle those murderers too.

...Talulah. There's an Infected I used to know, who comes from a eminent lineage and held a distinguished position.

But she threw it all away, in her quest for 'fairness'.

You know her.

Everyone here has heard of your ideas. Reunion's earliest vision, exaggerated, distorted.

But what we want is not a nomadic city for the infected.

What we want is to send a message to all the aristocrats, and oppressors, those trying to divide, suppress, and eliminate us—

The blade they so despise hangs high above their necks.

Our goodbyes... have already been said. This isn't the first, nor will it be the last.

Let's go. Our work in Victoria isn't done yet.