Human decency is a rare thing to find. At least by Daud's own experience.

Human cruelty, now that was an entirely different matter.

It wasn't until walking past the third corpse he found laid on an empty alleyway today, that the old knife had truly realized, he had traded one hellhole city for another.

The boy looked no older than 14. Black shards of solid rocks covering significant portions of his left arm, and they seemed to be growing. His tattered clothes now stained red from his own wounds. Bits of his left feline ear seemed to be forcefully torn off. His arms and legs bent in unnatural positions. Dried blood covering most of his raven hair and battered face. His one remaining eye, cold and lifeless.

He couldn't figure out which was worse, tormenting his eyes with this awful sight, or being used to it.

'Feels too close to home...'

A lifetime of bloodshed may have dulled him, but it did not turn his heart completely to stone. The boy had suffered an ill fate no one should deserve. A victim of persecution, stemming from an unjust hate that plagued this entire place.

Hate, originating from a single source, tainting this world. Oripathy.

A progressive terminal disease, caused by direct or prolonged exposure to a mineral known as Originium. The disease itself is not particularly infectious, but the public didn't care. It is incurable, with a hundred percent mortality rate. And that is all that mattered. Symptoms include black shards of the mineral itself growing on certain parts of the skin, mental illnesses, and prejudice forced upon by the rest of the world.

At least, that is how the book described it, the one he patiently took the time to read the night before. Surprisingly, that book he "borrowed" yesterday was far more useful to him than he initially thought.

As it currently stands, those ill-fated to contract Oripathy are referred to as the "Infected", and their status is the great rift that separates those who are healthy from those who aren't. A divide that slowly descends into strife, which eventually grows into bloodshed. And so long as the material known as Originium continues to power the world, that bloodshed will meet no end.

Ursus was also no longer an enigma to him. A nation ruled by a monarchy, the largest nation in Terra, and rather infamous for its atrocious treatments of the Infected. Different names and titles, but nothing new for the old knife.

It also just so happens that Chernobog, the name of the city in which the former Knife of Dunwall had been unknowingly dropped into existence by a certain unpredictable god, is particularly one of the most prime examples of this atrocity manifesting in reality, its ugliness in morbid display.

It was almost like that black-eyed bastard of a god wanted to simply mess with him.

Why else would he be dropped here, of all places? It was almost the perfect location for a man like Daud. He was born under the dark side of humanity, and he was molded by it. Looking at the city of Chernobog is like looking into a mirror to his own origin. But what purpose would he find here?

Daud would not call himself a humanitarian. He did nothing for the citizens when the Rat Plague swept its claws across Dunwall, except watching everything unfold from afar. There wasn't much he could do to help anyway. He was no physician. His profession was taking lives. He swore to avoid sheathing his blade for that reason again. But he knew it wasn't right to simply look the other way. He'd done that too many times before. And Dunwall feared him for it.

Kneeling down at the feline boy's lifeless body, the former assassin spotted a strange bulge on his left pocket. Feeling the curiosity taking over, he eventually went and reached inside. It was a silver pendant, in the shape of a dove. Judging by how the necklace was broken, the boy must've hidden it in a hurry. This pendant must mean something special, and it might be best to keep it safe, at the very least until he could find out its true purpose.

Afterwards, he laid a hand on his remaining eye, closing his eyelid. It wasn't much, but the least this boy deserved, was a modicum of peace.

'For what it's worth... I'm sorry.'

The boy wouldn't be left here for long. When an Infected dies, their corpses become new transmission vectors for Oripathy, as evidenced by the black shards slowly consuming what is left of their being. It wouldn't take long before local authorities would find the body, and him being around when that happened would.. complicate things. For now, this was the best he could do.

Daud was disgusted. Of course he was. But what was he to do? Run around town, knocking out every single person attacking the Infected, escape the law enforcement, rinse and repeat? How long could he keep that up? And how much would that actually change things? A few drops in the water cannot change the flow of a stream. But something had to be done. He just needed to start somewhere. And he might know where to look first.

This boy will be avenged. A promise, not to anyone else but himself.

But until then, a mere shadow he would remain.

Ssum

Fdah

And within a blink of an eye, the former assassin vanished.

_

As evening began to arrive in the city of Chernobog, darkness began to envelop certain parts of the city.

In a city this large, it should be expected that not every part of it is up to the well-accomodated living standards usually found in more developed districts. Especially with such a fragmented society.

Thus, it came as no surprise for Daud as he walked through the various dirty streets, that he had stepped foot into the poor districts of the city. The gradual decrease in working lighting and increase in unfinished and decrepit buildings were a dead giveaway.

And unsurprisingly, he had yet to walk past another person without black shards protruding out of some part of their skin in these areas. Typical signs of an Infected, as they were called.

He had seen these kinds of places before, naturally. Any sufficiently large society is bound to have inequality in its structure. Whether it be caused by discrimination, poverty, or simple ignorance from the ones with power. The reasons may be different, but the outcome is often the same.

But he had a reason to be here. A place with little to no attention from the city itself, is a place with little to no laws. The city's local government had seemingly abandoned this district, as so far, Daud had not even seen a police station in this area. It wasn't unreasonable to assume that crime would be a common sight. Out here, it may be every man for himself.

A perfect place for a bitter old knife to sharpen himself.

As much as he regretted his days as a hired knife, he did learn a lot from his experience. Necessary lessons such as figuring out the right for the right job, and how to survive, or better yet, thrive.

'I suppose I could start by finding a place of my own.'

A more permanent place where he could lay low and safely take refuge, just in case. The city of Chernobog is far bigger than even the sprawling buildings of Dunwall, if his eyes were not fooling him. There is much more to find here. A city this huge should have certain locations worth taking an interest in.

Every city would have its own underworld, with places to get certain stuff normally illegal to own, but in a place with no eyes of the law, that wouldn't be much of a problem. Black markets were common in cities like Dunwall and Karnaca, there was no reason to think that the cities of Terra was any different. Walking around with a weapon might be a strange sight in this new society, so acquiring certain illegal items like a compact crossbow and a folding knife would be a good idea.

Acquiring weapons should be a simple matter of knowing where to look. Back in Dunwall, this wasn't a problem. He knew the place like the back of his hand. But he was now stepping into uncharted territory, and he had no connections whatsoever. The best course of action is to simply look for merchants who owns such illegal trades, but they seldom make themselves visible in plain sight.

There are also... unconventional items that Daud might have trouble finding. What about bone charms? Considering this is thousands of years into the future, is it logical to assume whales still exist? If there are no more whales alive, than whalebone may not be possible to acquire. But maybe there are possible alternatives. Originium.

From all its fascinating descriptions he'd read, it would be easy to think that this mineral is a supernatural object by itself. Whalebone was a good conductor of charms due to its supernatural affinity to the Void. Judging from its nature and origin, what if this Originium substance is capable of the same thing? But to prove that theory, he'd have to find a sample first.

Finding a sample, is actually quite easy. There are plenty of them just walking around him. But Daud would prefer not to kill an innocent Infected to use their corpse as fuel for his Void magic. That would be a little ruthless, even by his own standards. What about stealing the shards from the dead? Still cold-blooded to an extent, and even disgraceful. He had refused to disturb that young boy's body any further for that very reason.

As the former assassin was lost in thought, a small individual brushed against him.

"Hey, watch it old man!" It was a young girl, a teenager it seemed, with bear-like ears at the top of her head, brownish-green hair and abnormally white fringes, and an unexpectedly fiery temper. She glared at Daud for a second, before immediately breaking off into a hasty walk in the opposite direction.

She seemed adamant on trying to get away from him as quickly as possible. Was she actually afraid of him? Or simply in a rush to get somewhere else?

But Daud was aware that things are rarely that simple. He wasn't trying to make himself hard to see, and he was walking in the middle of a large well-illuminated street. Her colliding with him in the middle of the street for no apparent reason seemed highly unlikely, unless it was premeditated.

He took a moment to check his sides to confirm his suspicions. He then cursed his luck as he realized he was right. One of his coin pouches were missing.

A tired sigh escaped his lips.

'Not your lucky day today, kid.'

The girl must've thought he was an easy target, being someone not from around here and thus, someone unfamiliar with the ins and outs of this district. He applauded her bravery, but still, it was an assumption too bold for her own good.

Ehart Daiz.

The former knife began shifting away from plain view, as he kept his Void Gaze active, tracking the young thief's whereabouts. Her silhouette was oddly brighter than everyone else's, though it made following her movements easier. She was smart enough to immediately run into a nearby crowd, before taking a sharp turn into a dark alleyway, rendering herself invisible to the naked eye. And in most cases, that tactic would've worked.

Too bad her target just happened to be someone who could see through walls. Someone like him no less. A very unfortunate day for this thief indeed.

With a swift motion of his hand, Daud immediately teleported himself onto a balcony, before making a leap upwards and grabbing onto the edge of the roof. He continued making his way across rooftops as he kept his attention on where the young girl was heading.

He eyed the girl as she stopped after walking into an inner alley. She then proceeded to look around, perhaps making sure she was alone, before taking out the pouch she took from him and opening its contents. The girl must be expecting to find some worthy spoils inside. Outdated coins might not be what she was looking for.

His predictions were proven correct, as he noticed the girl's expression turning into one of confusion upon seeing the contents of her unremarkable find.

As the thief was busy examining the ten-thousand-year-old coins inside the pouch, Daud swiftly used his Blink to traverse down from the roof, and slowly approached her from behind, with the former completely unaware of his own presence.

He had no intention of harming this young child. He was just going to simply ask her to give him his stuff back. Which he is going to get back, whether she willingly complied or not.

"I don't get it... what are these for? I can't buy any honey with this!" The girl loudly exhaled in frustration, unable to gauge the true value of the mysterious coins between her fingers.

"You could've just asked nicely." Came another voice from behind her.

Her instincts quickly told her to turn around. Before her eyes, was a large man with a long scar on his face. The same man she bumped into earlier on purpose.

Dread immediately took over her entire being, before it was replaced by anger. Anger upon knowing her little stunt didn't go as smoothly as she planned.

"How'd you find me!?"

Daud decided to avoid the question. "That matters nothing to you. You took something from me. I need it back." He had no expectations for this little exchange to go smoothly. And he would be proven right.

The young girl suddenly grinned, as if something amusing was on her mind. "Fine, but I'll tell you what, if you can keep me and my fists from being bored, I'll give you your coins back! Otherwise, I'm keeping them!"

Finishing her proposal, she hid the pouch in her pocket and she began cracking both of her knuckles.

Daud was quite simply, baffled by this. 'This girl's... not serious about this, is she?' He was in no mood today to fight a child for something as trivial as getting his pocket money back.

"Listen kid, I have no intention to hurt you, but I need my coins back. We'll both look the other way and forget this ever happened."

She answered his question, not with words, but instead with a swift left hook towards his face, or rather where his face was.

The former knife had dodged bullets before. Anything slower like a fist would be a piece of cake. But despite him readily moving away from the teenager's sudden attack, his expression was still nothing short of shocked.

"I told you, didn't I?" She exclaimed. "I haven't had practice in a while, so if you want your stuff back, fight me like a man!"

'This brat is actually serious.' Daud thought to himself.

He was still reluctant on whether to actually heed her words, as he swerved from yet another jab coming his way. Taking two steps backwards, he moved himself out of the girl's range.

It would be easy for him to simply use his Mark and reclaim his stolen goods. Nothing too complicated for Blink to handle. But he wasn't wearing his mask, and the girl had already seen his face anyway, so it would be pointless to do so now if he wished to remain anonymous. And wasting a portion of his own mana for this seemed a tad excessive.

Noticing his defensive maneuver, she began to taunt him. "What's the matter? too scared to fight back? Guess you're just all bark, huh?"

"You're the most stubborn kid I have had the displeasure of meeting." Daud mocked the teenager. It also boggled him how the girl seemed to not notice the irony in her own words when calling himout.

"Well I wouldn't have survived this long if I wasn't. And I ain't just a kid, old sack." She brazenly replied.

'Survived this long'. That sentence implied that she was from around here, someone born without luxury, raised from scraps. Someone with a less-than-desirable background. Just like him.

Taking a longer look at the teenager, it was clear her leather sleeved jacket and quite revealing shorts were a little tattered on the edges, and it gave him the impression that she may only have a few, or just one set of clothes. Does she have a family? Or even a home?

"Whatcha' standing there for, you broken or something? I thought you're some kind of gangster? Aren't you gonna fight back!?" The teenager called out the man before her, as she dashed forward with her left fist pulled back, confident that she would make this easy opponent of hers bleed.

The girl's overconfidence would prove to be her mistake, as the former assassin quickly sidestepped her punch, and in rapid succession, delivered a smack behind her neck with his free hand.

Thwack

"Aaagh!!" She yelped out in pain as she stumbled forward, grasping the back of her neck. She turned towards Daud, her glare burning into his skull with the intensity of the sun.

'She's still standing?' He was doubtless of his aim, a precise strike to the back of the neck, would've been enough to render her unconscious.

Unfortunately time was not on his side, as he was forced to dodge a roundhouse kick from the girl, her shoe barely touching the tip of his hair.

Immediately after she regained her footing, and delivered another powerful hook, which was promptly blocked by Daud raising one of his arms in defence.

The force of her fist caused the former assassin to be pushed back, nearly stumbling backwards.

'She's... strong.' Stronger than she looked, he thought. Almost 9 inches shorter than him, yet her strikes pack more punch than they would appear. Despite so, his footing remained firm. And now he was sure, that this stubborn thief was very determined to ruin his day.

"Let's see how long you can keep that up!" Her roar was not unheard by the old knife. His opponent continued to hammer his defence down with her fists, trying to break it.

Within a few moments, he was beginning to back up against a solid wall. And she was going to make sure he couldn't get away.

Switching her approach, the teenager reared her head down and dashed forward, intent on delivering an uppercut that would send his jaw to the sky. Daud saw it coming, and pulled his head to the side.

However, as soon as her uppercut failed to hit its mark, she rapidly twisted her momentum and spun around, shifting focus onto an elbow strike with her other arm.

Daud reacted a little late to this, and instead of moving away, he simply caught the attack with his open palm. He almost struggled to stop her elbow from reaching one of his eye sockets.

Wasting no time, the teenager reared her other fist and directed it towards his abdomen, an attack which did not miss.

The force of the impact caused him to grunt in pain. And it was at this point that he has had enough.

Before the teenager could pull her fist back, Daud immediately caught her by the wrist.

Before she had the time to be surprised, he pulled her arms apart to leave her defenseless, and connected his knee to her gut, with tremendous force.

Air involuntarily escaped her lungs, as she was forced to exhale. Before she had time to deal from the pain, the former assassin released his grips and, faster than she could react, swiftly brought both his palms to both of her ears.

Slap

"Aahh!" Pain shot through her head from both sides. But she wasn't aware that the former assassin was not done. With no time to retreat, he immediately grabbed her by the shirt.

And in the next instant, his for forehead was connected with her face.

Smack

"-!!!" She let out a silent cry, stumbling a few steps backward, before regaining a firm stand. The man in front of her merely stood and waited, with fists clenched.

Her stare burned into the stranger's eyes, fueled by a burning ire. Her eardrums were ringing, her gut now aching, and she was having a hard time thinking straight due to the minor concussion.

"Heh... gotta say, I'm impressed... you ain't just some random goon, are ya?... guess this is gonna be fun after all.." Her brash tone had not changed, as she rubbed some blood away from her nose. To her, this pain was nothing.

"Do your parents know what their child is doing? Preying on the ignorant ones on the street?" Daud began questioning the teenager, curious about her past.

Unsurprisingly, she narrowed her eyes and gave a predictable answer. "My parents don't give a crap about me. Never seen 'em all my life, anyway, far as I could remember. What's it to you?"

Children brought into a cruel world, abandoned by their guardians. Truly, it was nothing new for the old knife.

Was she homeless then? How could she make a living? He had a hard time believing a girl with this attitude mopping the floors for scraps, so chances are she could be involved in shady businesses in order to get by. Either that, or he was simply dealing with another street thief.

"But.." She continued. "I guess if we're gonna have a proper match, then it wouldn't hurt to tell you a bit about myself. The name's Shura. Remember that before I beat you up!"

"I don't care." Frankly, he was running out of patience to do so.

"Well I do! Aren't you gonna tell me your name next?"

"I don't owe a child like you anything. But you should know better than to bite more than you can chew." The former assassin shot back. He wasn't sure if it was just his imagination, but he could almost see a vein popping on the young thief's forehead when he mentioned the word 'child'.

Some words hurt more than wounds. Her mind was slowly clouded with resentment towards the stranger, but there was also a hint of excitement, something she hadn't felt in a long while. After all, she's always hoping for a good fight. "Tch.. think you're so high and mighty, huh... then I'll just beat the crap out of you!!"

With a mighty roar, Shura lunged towards Daud with a newfound tenacity. One way or another, one of them will not be walking out of this alley.

For many of his years, the former knife of Dunwall was known for his apathy. His subordinates have recognized his power and position through his cold, and ruthless disposition, a result of his tolerance towards hindrances, honed through years of adversity. But even his patience can be tested, and fractured. All by this young thief's hardheaded attitude.

The former assassin moved out of the way, giving himself ample space to retreat. The thief kept track of his movement, and charged with her fists.

He might've underestimated the girl named Shura before, but Daud had steeled himself for whatever tricks she may have up her sleeve. If she was hellbent on making him take her seriously, then he will not hesitate.

She swung a right hook to his side, and he reared his head back. Her right foot took off the ground, and aimed for his left.

Daud shifted his footing, narrowly avoiding her kick. She spun around, delivering a horizontal hammer fist to his head.

Raising both his hands, he blocked Shura's attack, and grabbed her wrist. She noticed, and sent her foot towards his gut.

Daud grabbed her ankle, stopping her side kick immediately. Shura's eyes widened, realizing what he was up to.

Using his inhuman might, he twisted his body while still holding on to her, and hurled her entire being towards the wall.

Unable to stop her own momentum, her back crashed violently against the solid wall of concrete.

A cry of pain nearly escaped her lips, but she bit her tongue and resisted. For a moment, it felt like her ribs were cracked, a feeling she hoped wasn't real.

As she stood back up, she looked up, and her eyes immediately focused on the oncoming fist.

Instinctively, her head moved to the side, and she was saved from yet another concussion. His fist instead collided with the concrete, leaving a crack on the wall.

Clenching her fist once more, Shura delivered an uppercut to Daud's chin. She nearly succeeded. But the former assassin managed to dodge her attack, and retaliated by grabbing her raised right arm.

Expecting this move, she struck his midsection with her remaining free arm with all of her strength.

She could hear him gritting his teeth dealing with the pain, but to her horror, he never released his firm grip.

With one hand, he pulled her right forearm across his shoulder, and with his other hand, forcefully pushed an open palm across her outstretched upper limb.

Crack

"Aaaaghk!!" Her shoulder made a sound it shouldn't be making. She couldn't bite her tongue anymore.

Daud released his grip on the girl, and moved a few steps back, taking a breather. His midriff was sore, nothing he couldn't handle, but it was still more trouble than he was hoping for today. He didn't like having to use more brute force than necessary to defuse this situation.

Shura gritted her teeth, clutching her dislocated shoulder with her other hand. Her breathing was erratic. Her shoulder joint was burning like it was lit on fire, and her right arm was beginning to feel numb. But this wasn't that big of a deal. She could just pop her joint right back. But not in the middle of a battle like this.

"That's enough." Upon hearing those words coming out of the stranger's lips, she was shocked. He thought she was out of the fight? She'd gladly prove him wrong.

"Enough...? The hell are you talking about? We still ain't done here... I could do this all day, ya know.." Shura smirked at her opponent, with only one fist raised. Having only one working arm wasn't going to stop her. She had gone through worse.

"I applaud your resolve, but you should know that this struggle of yours isn't worth it." He explained to her, hoping he could end this as soon as possible. "Those coins aren't worth much for you, and you won't find any use for them."

He tried to reason with her, but instead, she was only set off further. "You don't know shit about me... I survived all my life through relying on my fists and winning underground fights... but now everyone's into hiding for some reason I couldn't care less about, and I had to resort to stealing from thugs like you instead of fighting to feed myself!

So what if all this is for nothing? I don't even like doing this stupid stunt, but hey... now I get to do this my own way. And I'm actually glad, that I found a good opponent like you. Gives me something to be excited about, at least."

Daud unknowingly slightly raised his eyebrows. He didn't expect her to open up that quickly. And her story gave him more insight into the young girl's motivation. Her passionate desire for conflict, shaped through numerous hardship, and now forced into commiting petty crimes during desperate times.

Unforgiving childhoods were not uncommon in his time. It made him who he was. Even his band of Whalers, a huge number of them were once children with no sense of purpose, and no other places to go, then to follow his footsteps. But those tracks were covered by the sands of time long ago. And despite all he's done, he had not forgotten the value of sympathy.

"Come on... you still got more where that came from, right? I promise I won't hold back." The exhilarating rush of adrenaline did well to blockout all of her pain, and now Shura was more eager than ever to knock this man's lights out.

"... Keep it."

"... Huh?" Did she misheard him? It's possible. The faint ringing in her ears had not gone away completely.

"Keep the pouch. I doubt you will find any use for it, but if it's worth all this trouble to you... then I guess you need it more than I do." He relented. He still had two more of these outdated coins left. And though they're his only source of trade as of this moment, there shouldn't be a reason to keep them around for long, if he was going to find a way to make some actual money.

Shura looked at the man before her, dumbstruck. She couldn't, for the life of her, figure out what was actually going on in his head. But to be fair, that was never a problem she cared enough to deal with.

"... Really? You gotta be kidding me... you're just gonna.. give in ? After going this far? You know I could still fight, right? I don't need two hands to beat you up."

"I yield. Will that be enough?"

Now she was even more perplexed than before. Did he not have the upper advantage? And yet he decided to surrender, right when things were getting interesting? He couldn't be feeling sorry for her, could he? Or did she actually managed to do a number on him?

Despite everything, a win is still a win, she mused, even if neither of them managed to beat the other into submission. "Hmph... fine then. I thought you're tough as hell, with that big scar of yours. I guess you're not a worthy enough challenge after all.

But I ain't gonna lie... this was a fun little exercise. I'll give you that."

The old knife chose the best course of action, and ignored the obvious insult. He was more concerned about how this young girl just brushed off all her injuries, as if all she suffered was a bruise.

"And for your information, I am not a thug."

"... Really? Eh, you still look like one." What a simple-minded answer. But Daud didn't know what he was expecting from a teenager with the mindset of a brute.

"Do you have somewhere to stay?" He asked said brute.

His question puzzled Shura. It wasn't often she would find a random person whom she just stole from actually caring that much about her. Much less someone who looks like a serial killer. "Yeah, sorta... why do you care so much?"

"Just.. curious. I'm looking for a cheap place to stay."

"Here? In this crappy part of town?" She might've overestimated how much value the stranger actually has on his hands. "Heh.. I guess I chose the wrong target. You're not that loaded, are ya?

But, I guess if you're that desperate... there's an old apartment block run by an old lady nearby, just a couple blocks away. She might give you a good deal, if you tell her it was me."

"I will remember that." The former assassin acknowledged her advice. But he thought to offer a little something as compensation. "Do you.. need a hand?"

Unfortunately, Shura didn't quite hear him, as the pain was starting to become annoyingly distracting, thus Shura took the quickest course of action to alleviate it, by popping her shoulder back in place. With a push using her free hand, there came another crack from her joint. She didn't need his help after all.

"Ugh-!... What? Yeah, yeah, whatever." The sore might take a few days to finally go away, but at least she could move her right arm again.

Looking back at the stranger with the scar on his face, now with his back turned, a wave of dissatisfaction hit her. She was rarely the type to end a fight prematurely, but something deep within told her that, despite his behavior, the stranger was actually.. caring for her wellbeing.

She couldn't for the life of her, figure out why. At this point, she was too tired and hungry for dried fish to find out. She usually let her fists do the thinking anyway. Her head was hurting too much at the moment.

Pulling out the pouch, her "victory spoils", she came to the conclusion that the man was right. These coins aren't Lungmen Dollars. Unless they're made out of pure gold or something just as valuable, there is nothing of value to her in this little bag. Could she even trade this for jars of honey? Possibly, if only her favorite food wasn't so damningly expensive.

"Hey, what the hell are these anyway-"

Her voice came to a halt as she realized there was no one else in the alley except her. He was gone, without a trace. All she did was took her eyes off him for a few seconds.

'How the hell did he do that?'

It was a shame, she thought. Something compelled her to know more about that man, but alas, that would have to wait.

But surely, this encounter between the two of them, wouldn't be the last. She still hasn't figured out his name, after all.

It was cold. And almost pitch black.

Some semblance of faint blue filled the dark void. Just enough to make it look like the pure night sky.

There were bright lights scattered among the endless dark. They looked like stars. Flickering, but always shining.

She realized she was floating. In a sea of night that extends endlessly.

Why was she here? What is this place? There was no one to answer her.

She tried to speak. But nothing came out of her mouth.

For the longest minute, silence was her only company.

Then there was something in the dark. Lurking, between the stars. She couldn't see it. But she felt its presence.

She tried to call towards it, or them. But her voice was still lost.

A sudden cold began enveloping her. She looked towards her hands. She couldn't see her skin. Rather, a pitch black mass began covering her fingers, and then her arms.

She could feel it slowly taking over her, from her toes, all the way up her limbs and body, and eventually, covering her entire head, leaving her sightless.

All she could see now, was pitch black. The lights and the sky was no more

However, she could still feel something hidden within the darkness, and that it could see her. And she could feel it getting closer.

She could feel it... hating her.

_

The familiar cold surface greeted the side of her face.

Looking around, she was greeted by the sight of various documents, some haphazardly scattered on the desk, and on the floor.

She was back in her office. She must've slept on the work desk again without realizing.

She had that same dream a few times before. They didn't quite feel just like dreams. They felt more real than any dreams she'd experienced. She didn't know what it meant. Perhaps it was leading up to something. But nothing about it made any sense.

As she tried to sit upright, she felt something sliding off her back. It was a blanket. Someone must've put it on her while she was asleep. She thought she knew who it might've been.

"Amiya?"

It was a voice, coming from the door. A young Feline woman with plain white hair and pear green eyes. It was someone she knew dearly.

"... Dr. Kal'tsit."

The Feline doctor walked towards her, taking a closer look at her face. "Are you alright?"

She wasn't exactly in the best state of mind. Most probably due to lack of rest. "I'm... okay. Just a little tired."

Dr. Kal'tsit looked deeply into her own eyes, before taking a soft breath. "I know. You've worked harder than anyone here. You haven't had enough sleep, have you?"

The doctor then gently laid a hand on her head, between her pair of Cautus ears. "Make sure you don't overwork yourself. Your health is my primary concern."

She could feel Dr. Kal'tsit's apparent unease. The doctor had every right to feel so. But as someone of her position and status, times of respite becomes more and more of a distant memory. "I understand, Dr. Kal'tsit."

A random paper beside her caught her attention. A newspaper, detailing the increasing number of incidents involving the Infected in Chernobog. A deep concern began flooding her mind. A feeling that had been with her all this time. It's nearly been three long years.

The Feline was able to notice her shifting expression. "Something on your mind?"

"I'm starting to get worried... about the Doctor. It's been a long time."

Dr. Kal'tsit did not say anything, at first. She kept her opinions reserved, and asked the Cautus the important question. "... Do you think it's time, Amiya?"

She knew what she wanted. She knew that she dearly missed the only other parental figure in her life. But she didn't know if she was ready for this. If Rhodes Island was ready. Or if the Doctor was ready.

And for what felt like the longest time, she found herself unable to answer.

_

Author's Note

Well this one took a while. I gotta be honest, this chapter was initially going to be wildly different than what I got now. But my initial plans are now relegated for the future chapters, but whether I'll stick to them or not is a topic for another day.

This chapter is much longer than I initially thought, and mostly focused on Daud's perspective, but it was necessary to advance his side of the story a little further. There was originally supposed to be more added in, but I didn't want this chapter to be too long to read (at least for me personally), so instead I'll just put them in the next chapter or so.

I will admit, writing fight scenes are a huge pain for me at times, since it's been a long break for me, but I think it was good enough. Maybe a tad too long, but honestly I just couldn't visualize it as any shorter.

Finally we're getting some perspective on Rhodes Island's side, but only a little. If my draft isn't changing, you probably won't see Rhodes Island's point of view for a few, or maybe a lot, more chapters, mostly because I wanted to give Reunion a little more attention, at least for now. I felt like I already put too much foreshadowing in this one chapter, so I won't explain anything more here. But feel free to theorize anyway.

(A little tidbit: Recently re-read some of the chapters from one of the novels, and apparently Daud, well past his prime, was able to break through steel cuffs, and punch through steel machinery, without any supernatural powers. That is a big strength feat for him I missed before, and I think it's safe to say he could definitely pull back Schwarz's crossbow pretty easily. I'm sorry, Lord Tachanka.)

Thank you for reading, and as always, until next time.