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Smoke and debris spill over the hills, scorching flames searing the land.

The helpless red dragon, locked upon its throne.

Threads pierce its bones – so that it may not move.

Originium splits open its flesh – so that it may not heal.

Cries fill its ears – so that it may find no rest.

A scepter nails the tip of its tongue, a crown binds its brain, and a stone orb crushes its spine.

It is a red dragon atop a throne, a puppet of the shadows.

It may not resist, beg for mercy, or escape.

Within its purgatory, the living statue weeps.

Tears drip from its eyes, flowing along the threads into its unhealing scars.

All it receives in return for its suffering and obedience is silence.

Bitter hail begins to fall from the sky—

Dublinn's men might come back any moment now. We need to find a way to get another car.

Don't worry, I promise you we're going to make it out of here alive.

Was she caught up in a Catastrophe? Both her Originium infection as well as her wounds are quite severe...

*sigh*... Once we've done our part, the rest is up to her.

Then, we'll register your information.

Out of consideration for the fact that you're still a patient, we've prepared a single dorm for you. If that's acceptable, then please sign here.

Reed sits down on the bed, blankly staring at the door to her room.

Rhodes Island's standard-issue sliding door perfectly fulfills the task for which it was created, letting not even a speck of light through.

Of course, its sound insulation is also beyond question. Though, given that it is that time of day when people begin their daily activities, some noisy voices nevertheless reach Reed's ears.

This is exactly the life she dreamed of.

She need only open the door, and she would become a part of Rhodes Island too, living a life in the sunlight.

However—

Ugh... It hurts...

The Originium crystals remind her—

The feeling of guilt reminds her—

The shadows remind her—

She doesn't deserve it.

'For Dublinn!' No matter how guilty she felt, she had put so, so many people to death with this rallying cry.

Every one of those souls, young and old, were always staring at her. It's all they can do now, harshly sting at her soul whenever her heart sways like a reed in the wind.

That's the only form of revenge left for the dead.

Repent, and you will be forgiven – a cheap adage for the heartless. True forgiveness does not exist.

After all, the dead cannot speak, nor can they forgive. All they can do is torment.

Just as they were tormented.

This... is how it should be...

This is what I deserve...

Reed lies down again, with her back to the door, as if this would somehow let her ignore the noises coming from beyond.

Those things don't belong to her. She isn't worthy.

No matter how badly she wants them.

I belong in a prison...

However, within this darkness...

She still remembers the light that occasionally pierced the dark clouds.

Born from a ring of flame... like a sun...

She longs to touch that light...

Reed, are you in there?

One moment... I'll be right there...

Hello, I'm here to give you your routine physical.

Didn't the Doctor say...

Oh, yes— The two of you agreed that you should be undergoing regular comprehensive examinations, right? But what we're doing now is just the most basic stuff—blood pressure and heart rate monitoring. No needles or clunky equipment involved.

You're still an inpatient for now, and we do need to keep tabs on your numbers, but the Doctor won't always be available. I won't bother you again until your condition has stabilized.

Of course, if you don't want to, I'm not going to force you.

I appreciate the help... Come on in.

Go ahead and lie back down on the bed.

Mhm...

The light switch... should be right here... Found it.

Ugh...

Oh, sorry about that! I'll dim it down a bit—

N-No worries. This is good enough...

O-Okay then.

Then, let me have you flat on the bed, and I'll handle the rest.

Mhm...

Before lying down, Reed moves her tail to the other side of the bed so that the burning flames will not affect the work of the Medical operator.

The fabrics of the bed are made from special materials so she doesn't have to worry about inadvertently setting the entire room on fire.

Reed originally thought the medic would stare at her tail curiously and ask questions, but she simply stares at the notebook and her instruments, with no intention of making small talk.

So Reed lies face-up on the bed, casting her eyes towards the ceiling, her gaze slowly drawn to the light emanating from the ceiling lamp.

That should do the trick... Next up is...

It is nothing more than an ordinary ceiling light. Upon closer inspection, she can see a ring-shaped bulb through the covering.

Like a Sankta's shining halo...

Do you know... where the Sankta who saved me is? I want to thank her...

You were sent to Rhodes Island by a Victorian Vouivre and some Rhodes Island operators who were on a mission in County Hillock. I don't recall any Sankta being among them.

Did I misremember...?

Reed continues to look at the ceiling lamp. The light from that Sankta was so vivid in her memory, there should be no mistaking it.

But I did hear that we lost an elite operator during that operation...

Elite operator...?

She was a respected older woman. Though she rarely swung by Medical, the snipers who came by for treatment or just to get a physical always had something to say about her.

They said that she was extremely patient, and that her revolver was even more accurate.

If I recall, I think she was a Sankta...

What... was her name?

Outcast... That's what they all called her...

Outcast...

The conversation seemingly reaches a dead end as the two tacitly agree to stop talking. Only the occasional beeps from the medical equipment still echo across the room.

Alright, all done with the exam. Congratulations, Reed, a lot of your indicators have improved since your last exam, which means your condition should be stabilizing soon.

Mhm...

Then, if there's nothing else you need, I'll be heading out.

Should I turn the lights off?

No thanks, this is fine...

Alright. I'll leave you to it, then.

Her death...

Was my fault...

Reed's mind starts to go blank.

She had never interacted with this Outcast person before – as a matter of fact, she only learned of her code name just now.

And yet, she had made the ultimate sacrifice to save her life?

Outcast... Outcast...

She repeats this name again and again, the name of the person who peeled back the corners of darkness for her.

Whether it was out of honor, respect, or simply curiosity, she feels as if it is her duty to know more about this great individual.

Of course, once she's fulfilled this duty, she would once again have to return to her room to continue her self-imposed confinement.

Daily life suddenly blossoms so vividly before her, and it proves strange and foreign.

Some cordial pleasantries, a bit of noise stirred up by trivial matters, and some idle chatter to pass the time.

How long had it been since she experienced these things?