level_main_13-14_beg

Sometimes I think that if there really is a Creator responsible for these lands, he's one cruel bastard.

He came up with a really awful disease, where you feel your body being consumed, gradually being replaced by these crystals, helpless to do anything to stop it.

You can feel your very self being removed from your body, day by day.

You can only accept it.

We can only accept it.

And this creation of Oripathy is actually one of the gentler ones across the lands.

The Infected and the uninfected, Nine tells me our persecution is as old as civilization itself.

So... what about poor and rich? Slave and noble?

Foreigner and local? Disabled and able-bodied? Even abnormal and normal...?

A parasitic disease is scary, sure, but Oripathy is only the most obvious, the most prominent of the terrible diseases out there.

The Creator's really awful inventions are poverty, war, bottomless, insatiable greed, the malice and hypocrisy that bring so much suffering, gaps we can never close.

But the truth is, we all know, no Creator came up with that stuff.

Humans, we invented it all on our own.

You and me, we created them.

Good news? Or bad news?

The good news is that the workshop is still intact, the forest hid it good. The dukes and the Sarkaz never got to use it as an outpost.

The bad news is, someone's living there. We saw lights. I walked up, identified myself, and the lights went out.

Might be refugees or deserters.

But they put out the lights... that means they're wary of us.

Our fighters are ready for anything.

No, let's not be hasty. They might just be cautious, or fearful.

Don't jump to conclusions.

And anyway, Red's carrying a pretty long blade. Anyone would want to play it safe.

Why don't I go? I'll have a word with them.

By yourself?

That's enough. The more men we send, the more nervous they'll be. Besides, if they mean us harm, a few more hands won't make a difference.

The sky to the south has been red for the past few days. Percival and the others even found an Arts Circle...

We need to move fast.

There's some risk in that.

I know.

But we made it out of Chernobog.

Fair enough.

We'll be ready to provide support on the sidelines, to make a breakthrough.

This place was some kind of distillery before the Victorian Reunion settled in?

I can already smell the booze. Romanich would've loved it.

It certainly was a distillery.

Secret distilleries like this are common enough in Victoria, dodging around punishing taxes imposed by the lords. They could be used to make crude medication for the Infected.

Soaking, mixing, distilling herbs would work, but purification... no way.

I'm starting to admire the Victorian Reunion. They found this place and turned it into a distribution center for medicine.

When did they start calling themselves Reunion and build all this? I'm not sure.

All I know is that the building is just an old house covered in vines now.

No movement around, no lights in the house.

A figure flashes by the window. Red was right, there are people here, and they've spotted me.

I dust of my clothes and fix my hair, trying to look more presentable.

Hello. Anybody home?

No answer.

Hi, I'm Guard. I've got a team nearby, I'm pretty sure you saw them earlier?

Don't worry, we mean no harm.

The Victorian Reunion used to use this workshop to make medicine.

It brought hope to a lot of Infected around Londinium. Its medicine even circulated among the workers in the sewers below the city's industrial districts.

Whoever you are, you know the war is turning a lot more people Infected.

We want to get things going again here, to help them.

Since you're occupying the place...

We need your cooperation.

We can provide medicine or other supplies. We'll trade fair.

Still, no response.

The doorknob turns, and I grip the hilt of my sword.

After everything we've been through, I know it's pretty likely I'll be staring down a pitchfork or hatchet next. I'm numb to that sort of thing now.

The door opens.

Reunion, you said?

Your clothes... who are you?

Mays.

Come in.

There are more people hiding inside than I guessed. And it's quite a group.

Some of them are obviously Infected, while others leaning against the wall are probably ordinary refugees from the city.

They're all looking over, silently, watching me and the woman in the Victorian Reunion uniform.

Look away, and clear out.

The crowd falls back, and Mays leads me past their collective gaze.

These people... are terrified.

Are you in charge here?

This place is under my control.

Let's find a place to talk.

...Victorian Reunion... Percival is in Victorian Reunion too.

Our organization doesn't exactly have franchising procedures and once word of the name spread around, the Reunion flag started popping up in all sorts of places.

That also means there have been various acts of violence, acts of revenge, taking place under the Reunion name.

The kind of thing that happened in Chernobog. I start looking at this... Mays.

She seems nervous, her gait is unnatural.

We're in the deepest depths of the workshop.

Here we are. Nobody comes in here.

So you're Reunion, the real Reunion. You came from the north?

From... Ursus?

Yes, Ursus, Columbia, and now we're in Victoria.

That's a ways.

Your uniform, it's...

I... used a bedsheet.

I ran into a group from Ursus before. They said you dress like this. I think I got the emblem right.

Looks a bit big.

Did you come here just to mock my handiwork?

So you control this place just because you dressed up in the garb of the infamous 'Reunion'.

Let's get to the point. I don't have much time.

You want to get this place up and running again? To start making medicine?

Yes, if news got out that Reunion is running the place again...

No.

Things are more complicated than you know. We have all kinds of people here.

I'm worn out breaking up the daily fights between Infected and uninfected. And you want to make Infected medicine? You might as well blow the place up.

It's hard to keep a balance between them.

You're Reunion, aren't you? At least, you claim to be.

More or less.

Who are your people?

What else would they be? Homeless Infected, war refugees, people who have lost everything. We all need a roof over our heads.

I first came here with a few other Infected. We found this ruin.

Later, more people came, including some... less than honest folk. We don't take anyone else in anymore.

I'm glad to see you, Reunion comrades, but I don't want to worry anyone here.

Worry?

That you're conspiring with us to wipe out the uninfected in our midst.

Whether or not it's just a pretext to get us to open our doors to you, we can trade supplies. But let's leave it at that...

There are plenty of uninfected here, so I get what you're saying.

But I still think it would be a good idea to talk it over with your people before you come to a decision. As long as we can get back to making medicine here, we can come to a long-term agreement—

No, no thank you.

Now, off with you. It was nice meeting you.

If you want to take this place, you're welcome to it. So long as you <i>can</i> take it.

I can't see her expression behind the mask.

Maybe she's just bluffing.

Alright then.

But I turned around, nevertheless, getting ready to leave.

Hey, Reunion!

Yes?

Is Talulah with your group?

...She is.

Another Talulah worshiper?

Sure enough, she's our banner, and that's her cage now too.

I hear she has a nomadic city.

Does that city of hers only take Infected?

If you haven't been infected, are you allowed to go there?

I've heard... from the passing caravans, I've heard it's a nice place.

We—There's some people here in less-than-ideal positions, refugees from the wilderness, orphans without a single relative. Talk of that Reunion city has everyone full of hope.

But... you only stand with the Infected, right?

A... city?

There might be a misunderstanding here—

Mays! Do you know what they did?

Did you tell them to do it?! Have you gone mad?!

What are you talking about?

They—Those idiots!

He might've been a fighter in the war here! Or some big important figure, here to doom us all!

We might be just a couple hours out from a battalion of Sarkaz coming in here to wipe us out!

What's going on?

You... Are you with Reunion, like Mays?

It was you, your people—

Those Infected, they killed a Sarkaz in the warehouse!

Bollocks!

He... He was Infected too... He's going to explode, right?

We need to deal with him!

I'll take a look.

Go, quickly! You should be able to help!

On the ground lies the corpse of a Sarkaz.

I... know this guy.

The Sarkaz who rode a motorbike, he was a junkman, going around selling stuff he took off the dead.

He was clearly beaten to death, limbs twisted up in unnatural ways.

His hands are tied. He must've tried to break free, judging by his bloody wrists.

The gathered crowd is mostly silent.

I feel a chill, leaving me briefly speechless.

He... he's dead. The Sarkaz aren't so strong.

Here... the medicine he had on him, and some stale bread.

The one who did the killing doesn't look well. He indifferently breaks off a piece of bread and hands it to someone beside him.

He deserved it.

Someone spits on the ground.

One of them notices me, approaching me while chewing a piece of bread taken off the dead man.

You! You're with Reunion, aren't you?

Mays never told us how we could join you!

I remain silent for a while, calming myself down. I lower his hands for him, spotting the Originium crystals growing on his arm.

Why did you do it?

Did he threaten you? Try to hurt you?

Huh? Why?

It's as if he suddenly loses interest, stumbling over to a nearby crate and taking a seat.

When the Sarkaz burned our farm and humiliated my daughter, did anyone ask why?

He wasn't a soldier. He wasn't a murderous devil from Kazdel. He was just a wandering hawker, selling his wares on the battlefields.

He... even helped you.

Huh, what does he mean? Was he Reunion too?

I <i>am</i> Reunion.

You lot must know what it is Reunion fights for.

Sure, you're fighting for all the Infected!

This man that you tortured to death, the one who never even got a chance to share his name...

Wasn't he an Infected?

But he was Sarkaz.

'Medicine and compassion cannot help the Infected in a way that matters, but solidary and strength can.'

Solidarity... solidarity.

Infected have no homeland. We share the same fate, the same sorrow.

These people don't understand... they've never thought about it.

But, what about us?

Will the veterans from Ursus on the team treat the Infected from Kazimierz well? Can Sankta Infected coexist with Sarkaz?

Even at Rhodes Island, I...

What about the future? If we succeed one day, and the Emperor of Ursus vows to stop massacring the Infected, if he agrees to grant us land and cities...

In this beautiful, seemingly impossible future...

Will Reunion, will the Infected, start killing each other?

Will we fracture, collapse, and give them another chance to butcher us?

Hey, Guard, his corpse... it's glowing, he's about to disintegrate!

I had no idea his condition was so serious.

Or did he really not leave any medicine for himself, trying to save money for some future that would not be his own?

Get out of here! Now!

Run! Run!

Mays! How do you process the Infected here?

That room, the innermost one!

Hurry, we have to throw him in there!

Damn it, damn it all... I need a second, protection... for the nose, mouth, and wounds...

Mays and I lift the Sarkaz's corpse and kick open the door.

Upon opening it, my personal Originium monitor started beeping incessantly. I've never heard the alarm going so intensely before.

Just...

Just how many Infected were processed here?

Every inch of the room is covered with a thick layer of Originium dust, crystal clusters forming in the corners.

'Danger' is no longer sufficient to describe the urgency of the situation.

I don't know when things are going to get out of hand for this place, but... putting a disintegrating Infected in there is definitely not a good idea.

No good, move, move!

What are you doing?! Why is the body—

There's too much Originium in here. How many Infected have been processed in this room?

I... Well... it was years they were being processed in there!

There's Originium dust in the air, the place won't survive a violent disintegration!

Get everyone out, now!

Wh-What?

Don't you get it? The Originium environment here is extremely unstable. The place could blow at any minute!

So we leave? And go where?

Everything out there is—

There's no time!

We're talking about Reunion here! They have an entire bloody nomadic city!

Run, get them all moving!

I've contacted some of our teams on the outskirts, they'll take some of you in!

Ugh, there's still some booze left in the distillery. If there's an explosion, the whole place is going with it!

And that—

Hey, Mays, where are you going?

The woman dressed in a Reunion uniform is struggling with the machinery in the deepest depths of the workshop.

What are you doing here?

I'm... Hngh... Help me pull that lever...

Did you work here before? But you're not Infected!

Thanks for not exposing me! Hngh... pull harder!

Where did you get that Reunion outfit?

This used to be a Reunion base, and so many died here... Don't test my patience!

I... I didn't do anything!

That's what they all say.

I was... a worker here. That Reunion lot took over the distillery, and they needed hands to run the machines for them.

I... it's just, the mercenaries hired by the lord attacked, and I ran... I'm not Infected, why should I die here with those Reunion?!

So why did you come back?

Why?

Because I had nowhere else to go, dammit! What other reason would I end up trading my life for a secret distillery?!

I'm not Infected, but sometimes I feel like I'd rather be with Reunion! At least they have something to fight against, they have a purpose!

Pull harder! It's stuck!

First, open the switch for this unloading port. Reunion left behind a whole lot of material!

The doctor said this was the cheapest painkiller formula, they were working on it for a long time. It only relieves pain, but that's enough, right?

With this... can I be a genuine part of Reunion?

That is... I might be allowed a home in your nomadic city?

A nomadic city...

I take a deep breath and throw out a kick. It makes me sore.

The lever finally loosens.

The machine comes to life. The giant hopper tilts to one side and what falls out of it is countless... petals.

She hurriedly picks up the herbs scattered across the ground and carefully piles them in her arms.

If I don't consider where exactly I am, I feel like this could be... a beautiful sight.

Just like that city.

We don't have a city.

But, those Reunion guys all said—

But, you... but...

...Ahah... well...

I mean... a nomadic city... a city, you know, we...

People without a home, people with nowhere to go, the Infected across the world are growing more and more numerous.

It's not that the disease is becoming more virulent, it's just that the world is becoming more cruel.

The great worthies have so much to say about the 'modern' era we live in, an unprecedented era of high-speed battleships, nomadic cities, of industry—

How enlightened our era is—

How tragic our era is.

'Stand together.'

Can the Infected really stand together, naturally?

Who do we stand with? Is it just the Infected?

That... nomadic city we're dreaming of, does it have a place for them?

Is a city enough to accommodate everything?

Take the herbs, we need to leave.

There is no application to join Reunion. If you're willing to fight side-by-side with us, you're already Reunion.

But... I'm not Infected.

It's not only the Infected who want to resist.

And besides, I need you to help me figure out who killed that Sarkaz man.

They need to be punished.

Now come on, let's go!

We make our way quickly through the gigantic tanks, some places have already started collapsing. The air is full of the pungent scent of alcohol, with smoke floating in from somewhere.

This workshop, where the Victorian Reunion began, is about to go up in flames.

We're almost there, quickly now.

The waves of intense heat hit, Mays struggles to stay standing, the herbs in her arms are lifted by the hot air.

Agh! My—

Above our heads roars the sound of buckling metal.

Well, alright, I push her away.

Then, I jump up with all my strength, and gather up the petals.

A collapse.

It's hot.

The sun is burning. I'm burning.

Is that the exit?

A few steps further.

But they're watching behind me. Those eyes... are they judging me? Or just judging my insignificant death?

What did they expect of me?

I can't think about it... I can't.

Maybe I let them down with their deaths. They should hope for a more meaningful end for me.

Like, I don't know, dying on the steps of the palace in Deity Grypherburg? Anyway, not here, not dying for an uninfected woman I just met, holding some broken petals in my arms.

How could I face them here?

But I still need to face them.

Take them... and go.

The exit is right ahead, don't lose them this time, I might've... crushed some of the petals, give them to a woman named Nine, she knows what to do.

Don't dawdle, move.

It's hot. It burns.

I remember the afternoon when I first learned I had Oripathy.

What was it exactly that caused my infection? I still don't actually know.

Maybe it was the time I fell in the river and something scratched my leg. Might've been an active Originium crystal instead of a rock.

Maybe it was the dust I inhaled in the mines.

Maybe it was industrial waste from the factories. Maybe.

But when I got home, the smell of smoke in the room hadn't dissipated. My luggage was packed and placed on the table where we usually ate together.

I found a salt lake, but I wasn't lucky. Maybe I chose the wrong place, there was no boat at the time.

I owe a lot to the Rhodes Island operator who came over and talked to me when I was sitting by the lake.

Nine, Red, Percival, Talulah, guh...

I'm not sure if I'll be burned to cinders by the time you find me, but I hope this recorder survives.

You ask—

Are we fighting for all the 'Infected'?

Whether they're despicable, upper class, or even... royalty?

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

Only the Infected?

Only... them?