Глава 13

Oh, we haven't been able to contact Guard yet either!

We're not sure if he made it out!

Don't worry, I'll find him.

We both made it out of Chernobog after all.

Nine, the concentration of Originium dust particles—

I was already rushing towards the burning distillery.

I've entered a scene like this before, back in Lungmen. Multiple times.

As an L.G.D. officer, and as a slum resident.

Fire means loss, and also destruction.

I always see tears falling upon charred remains.

Sometimes they're from Infected, and other times they're regular citizens.

And at moments like these, rumors will spread through the spectating crowd.

The casualties were a few Infected. Or perhaps they were regular citizens. Maybe it was an Infected exacting revenge on his neighbors who had harassed him, or maybe his uninfected neighbors were fed up with all the sick people hiding just next door.

But no one has ever questioned why fires uptown are always extinguished as soon as possible.

While the big blazes that destroy several buildings and cause an unclear number of casualties always happen in the slums.

I burst through the distillery's doors, and I witness a portion of the building fiercely collapsing not far from the exit.

A single hand extends from the metal and debris.

Holding onto Guard's recorder.

'Or... are the people we unite with, the people we want to fight alongside—'

'Only the Infected?'

'Only... them?'

'We Infected are just the culmination of all the decay there is... we gather as one because of our shared experience.'

'But what unites us... is not just disease.'

'Let's say we meet a... noble, abusing his power to exploit the people. How would we treat him?'

'If he was actually... an Infected?'

'We can't use our infection as... our sole criterion and slogan.'

'Our companions must share the same belief... we will not only retaliate against the humiliation we've suffered, but also liberate the same people who have caused us pain.'

'We're not the only ones enslaved across the lands... so we should stand with them, together.'

'We need to get them... to stand with us.'

'We... can't just fight against disease.'

'What should we actually be fighting against?'

'What are we building here?'

'I——'

*rustle*

'Many years ago, when I had just become an Infected, I really... loved drinking. Back then, Ace warned me that if I carried on with that... hobby of mine, I'd die with my drink someday.'

'...Haha.'

'And here I am... in a distillery.'

Nine, you've replayed it so many times now.

I know.

Talulah. I've been wondering... if we really did manage to build a city for the Infected, what would it look like?

Are you sure it wouldn't be... a hospice at its core?

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.