…The Doctor has already left the sarcophagus.
But it seems he's lost his memory?
…What a nuisance, not being able to read his mind. Without a Black Snake attached, I can't sense his inner thoughts at all.
Could this be a trap?
…No. For now, the priority is handling the Catastrophe.
The audience has already taken their seats.
It won't be I who saves Chernobog—it will be you. You are the heroes.
…Yes, that line fits perfectly. Exactly in line with the persona of Duke Kashchey.
It should be enough to preserve, perhaps even strengthen, my place in the hearts of the Ursus people.
Sigh… sometimes maintaining one's status is such a burden.
These short-lived creatures—so fleeting, so forgetful.
Time erases all things, even the favors I've bestowed upon them.
But time is also a gift.
For it can erase hatred just as well.
---
"Are you all right?"
A group of Reunion Movement members—who had shed their uniforms—rushed in to drive off a band of rioters and rescue a cluster of civilians.
"Thank you, thank you!"
One elderly man clasped their hands, his voice thick with gratitude.
"It's fine. Just get out of here, quickly. It's not safe."
"Yes, yes, of course…"
But then, as if suddenly realizing something, the old man's tone faltered, becoming uneasy.
"We'll be going now."
"Then hurry up and leave."
The rescuer's patience frayed. He truly didn't know how he was supposed to deal with these uninfected civilians.
Even as they gazed at him with grateful eyes, he couldn't forget the disgust and loathing those same eyes had once turned on him.
Not every Ursus citizen was like those in Kashchey's domain, where at least some were sympathetic toward the Infected. Even those who despised the Infected there rarely went further than indifference.
"Strange orders, these…" he muttered, before joining his comrades as they moved on toward another district.
They carried Talulah's command: to aid civilians where they could, even as they pushed toward Chernobog's core.
---
"…Did you notice it?"
"…I did."
"Damn it, what are those filthy Infected scheming at now?!"
"Shut your mouth! Without them, we'd already be dead!"
"… …"
"Duke Kashchey once said this: Do not define an entire people through a single, narrow lens. Do you understand?"
"…Who knows. Maybe those rioters are being funded by the Duke himself…" he muttered under his breath.
"You brat! …Forget it, now's not the time for a lecture. Just hurry and—wait. Your hand…"
The old man pointed at the youth's palm.
There, faint but undeniable, small crystalline growths of Originium had appeared.
"Ah!"
The young man screamed.
"Silence! Do you want to draw every rioter in the district down on us?!"
The elder's harsh rebuke cut him short.
The boy realized his mistake, trembling.
If all Infected were truly wicked and baseborn by nature… then what did that make him now?
The crowd stirred uneasily.
But as they looked upon the panicked young man, none spoke the words to cast him out.
Perhaps they feared he might, in revenge, draw rioters down upon them if abandoned.
Perhaps they feared that if they themselves were infected in this chaos, they too would be the next ones driven away.
Or perhaps—just perhaps—the efforts of the true Reunion Movement members had not been entirely wasted.
Who could say?
The terran heart is ever unpredictable.
---
Natalya, my dear Natalya—you must know, in times of crisis like this, dictatorship is without doubt the most efficient path.
The Black Snake's whisper coiled through Natalya's mind.
She hesitated.
With a handful of students and her two bodyguards, she had scraped together a modest group.
At first, her reputation and the strength she had just displayed in battle quickly won her the crowd's support.
But when she tried to rally them into leaving the school to gather supplies at the supermarket, dissenting voices began to rise.
"President, I think staying at the school is safest."
The timid ones—those who hadn't fought—spoke first.
"Yes, even if the food here is limited, as long as we—"
A noble-born student leaned close, whispering something that made Natalya's stomach turn.
"I believe staying at the school and waiting for rescue is best… My father is a high-ranking officer in the Chernobog police. He must already be on his way."
At first, Natalya too had thought staying might be wise.
How could Chernobog fall so easily to mere rioters?
Better to hold the school as a base, waiting for reinforcements.
But then came the grim news.
Chernobog has already fallen.
The whisper again, right at her ear.
At first, she thought it was a hallucination—the trauma of her first kill.
But no. She realized quickly.
It was the Black Snake's voice.
"Natalya, Chernobog is overrun. Help will not arrive soon… You may need to endure for several days."
"…Lord Kashchey, do you truly have no solution?"
"Natalya, I am not omnipotent. My strength has limits… The Catastrophe draws near, and I must conserve my power."
"Then… are you saying—"
"You wish to be a hero too, don't you?"
"…I understand, Lord Kashchey."
"Then act, Natalya. I am proud—you have grown into a true adult."
---
"I can only tell you this: no rescue will be coming for a long time."
Natalya's expression was unreadable.
"Chernobog has already fallen. If you don't believe me, come outside with me and see for yourselves."
"…I'll go with you."
Anna stepped forward to stand at Natalya's side.
She didn't truly believe things could be as dire as Natalya claimed, but seeing would prove the truth. And Natalya had no reason to deceive them.
If anything, as the only daughter of the high-ranking Rostov family, Natalya would be the one who most desperately wished Chernobog had not fallen.
But how is she so certain? Did she hear something?
Natalya's gaze swept across the other students, their faces flickering with doubt, fear, and calculation.
Quietly, she committed each expression to memory.
---
"…Natalya, why do you hesitate?"
"…I still can't bring myself to do it."
"…But you know if you let them slip beyond your command, disaster will follow swiftly."
"…I've thought of another way, Lord Kashchey."
"…That will be troublesome. There's a far more efficient method."
"But they are still my classmates… I want to give them a chance."
"Oh, Natalya… To see you cling to kindness even when faced with such harsh reality—it gladdens me."
Why is it that none of these children ever listen?
Could my methods of education truly be at fault?