Arknights: The Reunion Pilgrimage

by Tall-Gothic-Guy

Hero of Minos. Champion of Sargon. Intruder of Siracusa. Dancer of Iberia. Guest of Aegir. Retriever of Laterano. Challenger of Kazdel. Exile of Yan. Advisor of Higashi. Ripper of Victoria. Speaker of Gaul. Minister of Bolivar. Pioneer of Columbia. Scholar of Kjerag. Tracker of RIM Billiton. Teacher of Leithania. Murderer of Kazimierz. Shaman of Sami. And today, the Bane of Ursus.

2. Agreed by Theresa

Buldrokkas'tee hid his unease expertly behind his helm and his power armor, which had now been fully repaired to peak condition, and amazingly so despite the severe lack of necessary resources needed that would only be found in the Ursus military workshops to maintain something as advanced as the heavy power armor built solely for a Wendigo's build. It's only possible thanks to Jacob's 'ownership' of it by technicality, the Chimera's strange Miracles capable of such and more.

And the Chimera has been fixated on the Wendigo since the last 4 days, eyes of mismatched colors firmly locked onto a barrier full of Ursunium protection and through it, boring deep into his hardened flesh, as if an enigma had just grown on Buldrokkas'tee's body like a second head or even a long tail.

The pair have been making a terror on the Ursus patrols that ever ventured into the Tundra North, and every encounter ends in a massacre. To the Ursus high command, every single company and squad sent out either mysteriously disappear in the snow or come back terrified and completely traumatized, incapable of returning to military service or civilian life.

A new reputation took over the hulking beast that roamed the Tundra and guarded the miserable Infected, now joined with the discovery of Buldrokkas'tee the Patriot fighting alongside him, the two gaining the reputation among the high command and the civilians as the fierce guardians of the Infected and living terrors of the Ursus military.

As far as Buldrokkas'tee could remember, they have liberated so many Infected from the concentration camps and survived every single assault squad that came after them both for the last few years, a mixture of brilliant tactics and an endless number of Jacob's slaves serving as efficient soldiers that could follow complex plans, achieving victory time after time.

In addition, the Chimera's temperament had simmered over the years. His sullen anger and hatred had calmed, making way for a neutral and professional demeanor to take over, and eventually it grew into an amiable and friendlier personality, almost as if the idea of them being friends again was beginning to be a probable prospect.

And it did. Jacob had already developed the habit of patting Buldrokkas'tee's shoulder or greeting him every morning.

For what reason would the Chimera stare at him like this?

"Jacob." After almost a fortnight of having never spoken to each other, having been depleted of any conversation nor interesting topic to fill in the silence, Buldrokkas'tee decided to take the initiative himself. "Why do you stare at me like that? Has been my performance lately dissatisfying you? Or perhaps I have sinned against you in some way that I did not realize?"

Sat across him atop an unmelting pile of snow with the bonfire burning brightly in-between them, Jacob answered lowly without looking away, "No." Having shifted into the shape of a tall human, his hooves, long tail, multiple horns and draconic hands remaining unchanged, the Chimera spoke through his mouth, "Buldrokkas'tee, are you alright?"

Buldrokkas'tee's helmet twitched up to meet his gaze in confusion. He briefly took a mental check on himself before he will reply. So far, he's extremely healthy and fit, well-fed and well-rested, and any miraculous injury caused by an extremely lucky foe that managed to bypass all of his armor and protection don't seem to last for more than an hour, mysteriously disappearing and practically nonexistent. "Yes. I am well and good. Thanks to your charitable care, I hardly feel starved or overworked. And my armor feels as if like skin to me now, only possible to the Miracles you've casted upon it that made it light like air. Why do you ask, Jacob?"

Jacob's hum almost sounded like a quaking growl upon the world, "That is true. It's only right that I reward you with this much for your works. It feels as if my burden lightened in the Tundra, knowing that I have you by my side. To assure me that I'm not alone and that I have someone to speak with as I remain away from the haven."

"And I am ever thankful, Jacob." Buldrokkas'tee nodded gratefully, sincere and unguarded, "And kindly heed my sincerity as I say that I am honored to earn your thoughts of my presence taking part in your endeavors."

Jacob nodded in acknowledgement, "But I doubt it's the physical part of you that's concerning me..."

The Chimera trailed off, curious and ever-analytical eyes of white and red practically seeing into the Wendigo's core, trying to see what's troubling his mind. Buldrokkas'tee patiently sat still, letting his employer take it all in and ready to comply to any command he gives if it ever arises, familiar with Jacob's deliberate and immediate action to anything he deems of even the slightest significance. As experience could tell, it comes back being relevant days or years later.

Then Jacob stood up from his snowy hill of a seat, cloven hooves walking around the campfire and bringing him before the seated Wendigo's front, looking at each other within eye-level thanks to the temporary height-difference between them.

Draconic hands reached forward, "I'm going to take off your helm, Buldrokkas'tee. Bear with me."

"As you wish." The Wendigo wondered if it's because of his helmet. Was it damaged in some way? Did the Chimera overlook something during his last maintenance of it?

Buldrokkas'tee sat patiently, practically as unmoving as a statue while bearing with the bolts and locks being unlatched one by one, loosening its tight but comfortable fit into his horned head. The Chimera's hunting eyes never strayed their pinpointed aim away from him.

With the last of the latches coming off and a preceding hydraulic hiss, Jacob gently lifted it up, careful not to snag it with the Wendigo's horns. Buldrokkas'tee released a long sigh as the cold of the Tundra met the exposed upper half of his head, tempting him to shake his gnarled prongs or run a hand through his short-cut hair of black. He resisted the urge, remaining at attention before his employer.

Rather than look at the helmet, Jacob is still boring his questioning eyes deep into the Wendigo's own, maintaining his hold on the helm before his chest with the front facing its owner while his orbs steadily began to see clarity.

Buldrokkas'tee counted down.

4...

...3

...2

"Ah."

The Wendigo idly declared a new record in his head as the Chimera quickly found the issue quicker than last time. Though, Buldrokkas'tee felt a slight worry when the Chimera's countenance held a grimace. It could be his eyes tricking him but he saw traces of concern in his eyes as well. But for what?

"Buldrokkas'tee, I'm going to ask you questions."

The Wendigo's reply is automatic, "And I will answer without dishonesty."

Jacob frowned, "Are you always this articulate, even before we met or are you merely this way because of your labor?"

"The former. My kind are, in my unbiased and unfiltered opinion, a barbaric and vicious tribe of Sarkaz, perhaps moreso than some others due to our practices and our strong culture of warfare. I strove to be better, to be more than my lineage. Though I detested most of my races customs, especially the disgusting ritual of cannibalizing the dead...in spite of the destruction that came upon my heart...I failed to hold on to such standards—"

"So you ate Helen."

Buldrokkas'tee gritted his teeth as he looked down. Even though he defers greatly to the Chimera now, the latter's impossibly accurate deductions never fail to sting like the most venomous tails of manticores. It could have been anyone else—literally anyone else—he didn't even give the slightest clue about any specifics, and Jacob cleanly struck on the correct name without any hesitation or doubt.

He couldn't resist the urge to clench his fists, his body almost stiffening in protest of this sudden torrent of hurt emotions and unwanted recollections, "But I—"

"No."

The Wendigo fell silent, fully realizing the display he's giving off, showing dissatisfaction and negativity that contradict the terms of the transaction between him and his employer. He stiffened, awaiting the lash that's coming.

"Calm down, Buldrokkas'tee." His eyes widening in shock, Buldrokkas'tee slowly raised his head up and was met with a look of pure understanding from the Chimera's countenance. The latter barely moved his body in the slightest since holding the Wendigo's helm, "I will not judge you nor should you need to explain yourself. You had your reasons, and I knew them long ago, as much as I disagreed with them. You have a well, overflowing to the brim with nothing but love, and you selflessly gave it all to your wife and son. I was married before, and I will surrender everything for the sake of my family's happiness. Even if you did violate your principles, I will not question your love for Helen. Never."

...

For the first time since his employment, the Wendigo is finally reacquainted with the endless well of warmth and charity he had always associated the Chimera with. For so long since the last 5 years, he had long thought that he had forever deprived himself from it ever since the sin of killing his own son and ignoring the pleas of a friend that would have prevented it, doomed to the prospects of being nothing more than an accessory to Jacob's pilgrimage, given only the bare necessities and nothing more. Or even perhaps nothing at all. He thought that even idle conversation would never grace him, much less be provided with miracles and implements that improve his performance on his duties. He was prepared to bear with every hardship, to slave away as penance for all his sins.

But looking back on the years as a servant, the Chimera had continued to give, regardless of what transpired prior to their transaction. Even when he was sullen and angry, Jacob paid attention to Buldrokkas'tee's wellbeing and his equipment, taking action without even needing to be asked: keeping him fed, and during his kindest days, indulging him to conversation, exchanging regaling tales of each other's greatest prides, and even celebrating his birthday.

Buldrokkas'tee had dared to see it as a mere formality to their relationship, but now he will be found dead before he even thinks of questioning the Chimera's kindness when the latter would not even question the former's love for his wife and child.

Jacob never withheld that well of kindness, he merely waited for the time to pull up the bucket and give.

The Wendigo bowed his head deeply, genuinely humbled at the realization of it all. And his eyes wept openly, sincere and soaking into the cloth that covered his mouth and nose. "Thank you."

The Chimera grunted in gruff acknowledgement, the sound carrying the hint of dismissiveness at his emotional state, as if slightly annoyed that Buldrokkas'tee is realizing this now.

Once the tears have dried and he gathered himself together, Buldrokkas'tee sat up straighter and regarded his employer properly, feeling a sense of stability in his core that he hadn't known for years.

Jacob appeared remarkably pleased at his display, or maybe at his recovered state. Not even he could tell, "Buldrokkas'tee, do you feel accomplished with your labor?"

Now the Wendigo is left with even more confusion.

Buldrokkas'tee could not help uttering, "What?"

"There is no joy in you when you assume the duties I set for you."

"No." The Wendigo's reply came out automatically, "You are mistaken, Jacob. I do not protest my duties because I believe in the good they'll bring than I could have set for myself. It is not that I do not feel pride—"

"You do not feel pride with our accomplishments." The Chimera continued, as if he did not hear. "You only feel proud when I proud. You do not feel proud for yourself."

"You're wrong!" Buldrokkas'tee caught himself from sounding too strong for his employer's liking. "That is not true. Even you would know so much more than me, Jacob. Have I not shared plans with you that could save more of our Infected kin than you could with your slaves alone? Have I not shown you promise in the terms I've set in my labor? To serve you with a willing heart? How could I betray you as to not be proud of our—your works?"

Despite the pleas he let out with a passion he had not expressed in a long time, the Chimera seemed to not hear, practically staring at an unspeaking rock.

The latter's mismatched eyes did not waver away from meeting his gaze, even as he continued to accuse, "You do not feel fulfilled even if we saved many from the tortures of Ursus' wickedness."

Buldrokkas'tee was about to risk his entire body being crushed again, preparing for a full tirade to prove such claims as false...

But the Chimera had a hand raised up and then slowly curled the fingers into a fist, barely giving the Wendigo a start. His outburst was easily predicted, it seems.

"I'm asking you, Buldrokkas'tee. Do you feel any joy with what you're doing for the Infected? I do not ask that in relation to the duties you have. I ask that in relation to you, personally."

Buldrokkas'tee was caught silent, unsure of how to respond to such a question.

"When you save others from tyranny or even gave your cloak to a shivering child days ago, do you, personally, feel as if you have done something worthy of praise? As if you have ensured a future for somebody that would have lost it?"

...

"When you do these things, do you perform them as if to intend for the right thing to do? Or are you simply thinking of them as merely duties that are related to my endeavors? Regardless of either one, do you feel any pride in doing so? Pride for yourself? Have you ever felt as if you have given something so selflessly and generously without regret or wishing for a reward, feeling nothing but joy, as if no reward in the world would ever compare to the warmth you'd feel for doing so? As if that even if it wasn't your duty to do so, you would still do it because it is right?"

...Buldrokkas'tee had no answer.

No, it's more as if the Wendigo couldn't hope to process one so clearly, especially with all these questions causing turbulence in his thoughts. It's so confusing.

He personally does not feel joy for doing his duties? He doesn't feel any sort of fulfilling accomplishment but merely a job well done as the Chimera deems it so? How could that be? He genuinely feels pride in every duty assumed and accomplished, especially with effectiveness that brings delight to Jacob.

He is a tactical genius, one so consulted by even those of ranks higher than him, capably thinking of solutions, strategies, formations and contingencies so quickly and effectively that any company under his command would only know victory and nothing more, even in the most desperate of battles.

And now here he is, cornered, unsure of what his employer is trying to say to him. What could cause Jacob to doubt him like this?

"Hmph." Jacob harrumphed, having apparently settled something in his thoughts while Bukdrokkas'tee pondered. "Hold still." He reached forward to place the Wendigo helm back to its wearer.

While the locks and bolts are reattached, making sure that it fits tightly but comfortably as his Miracles allow, the Chimera continued, "Buldrokkas'tee, you have served me well during the 5 years of your tenure, and I am indeed full of pride and joy in your works. You fulfill every part of the terms you've set for yourself with satisfying results. Accomplishment after accomplishment, I can feel more than enough meaning in the things we do. I used to believe that I'm not changing anything with my works, but you give me possibilities. Your council is much more valuable than you think."

Buldrokkas'tee remained silent, awaiting what's about to come from such a torrent of commendations.

Once the last latch is slotted and the hydraulic mechanism fitted the helm tightly to his head, Jacob stepped back, "Therefore, I deem it fit for you to be left out of my supervision for the time being. And in that time, you are to act as you deem to see fit."

"What?" The Chimera is already walking away, around the campfire and kicking his snow hill back to the flat white ground, and he continued walking without pause. "What do you mean, Jacob?" Buldrokkas'tee asked in even deeper confusion.

"It is not a sabbath to your labors, mind you." Jacob not-answered, "You will still fill the days remaining in your tenure, but this time, I will not be present in the next plan of action. What comes next is not up to me. You will decide, and I will not agree, deny or adjust to whatever you will conjure. It's all up to you and I will not be present."

In other words, he can now be trusted to perform his regular duties by himself now that he's perfectly familiar with what they are. For the last 5 years, it has always been them together. Though Buldrokkas'tee doesn't fear any failure in independent work, he has grown too used to the Chimera's company. Being suddenly left by himself was a whiplash he couldn't quickly settle into his mind.

Buldrokkas'tee took a deep breath, then exhaled. He looked at the Chimera's shifting form, his human body gaining mass and height in every distance gained, "I understand. Where will you be?"

"To see about a Sarkaz that I've been neglecting for the last decades that number by a dozen and more." As the Wendigo blinked, Jacob suddenly disappeared from sight. An occurrence that's happened with enough regularity before his desertion that Buldrokkas'tee isn't baffled by it anymore, including the last few words somehow reaching his ears. "Only time will decide whether this guarantees a step forward to my Pilgrimage or not."

And just like that, Buldrokkas'tee is by himself for the first time in his half-finished term. Even with 50 of the Chimera's minions nestling in the nearby forests to hide themselves, they hardly ever serve as much as speaking companions as they are extremely good at killing in formation.

---

"Um…."

I continued glaring as she stammered, still recovering from the surprise and shock of seeing me in her private quarters.

"Uh…..it's uh….um…."

How the fuck is this woman the King of Kazdel? She's hardly presenting herself as such. She wasn't like this during our talk.

...Though, the answers are already clear to me. She's the silliest and smallest King I've ever met. Her behavior's got an easy pattern to read.

"…it's hard to say that it's good to see you again if you're glaring at me like that. Have I done something so heinous as to earn the ire of the great Chimera himself? The same Chimera that dared to challenge the leaders of every Sarkaz tribe in Kazdel just to have a chat with me in private?"

'Chat' she says. As if that time was just the two of us 'chatting' over cakes and coffee to add. The hell it was.

I reached up to my forehead, scratching it irritably, my throat growling and hissing as my snout opened up to reveal the teeth within.

My voice echoed from the walls, pieces of my body and scent already plastered everywhere before she entered.

"As much as I want to embrace you in greetings as a friend, it has been decades since we last saw each other, Theresa. And that was when we first met. It's hard to feel inclined to such pretentious warmth." Upon hearing my voice and having it say her name, her face lightened up from its tension and the simple smile graced it once again. "Even so, I'm glad you're alright."

"And I you, Jacob." Hmph. What do you know? Hearing your name said aloud from somebody that's barely your friend sure has a strange feeling. Maybe it's because it's her, specifically. She is a likable creature, in my severely biased opinion. "It's good to see that you're still ripe in mind, life and body."

Not for long, little girl. I'm literally using my own body as a small country for people I saved and I'm starting to get extremely tired and lifeless ever since. And I haven't made plans for relocation yet. Not to mention the hell my charges will endure by the time I destroy the haven along with me.

I walk towards her, my hands still morphed to the likeness of Vouivres but without the claws reaching for her shoulders. I grab ahold of them, which she didn't protest but instead replied by holding on to my scaly forearms in turn. Then I boop my snout to her forehead, properly greeting her in the fashion that's fit for me.

Now that she's marked with my scent, she's now bound to my reality and we can speak freely without any worry of being eavesdropped or found out.

I release her and proceed to the chair in front of her desk. "I suppose it was too much to expect a warmer and peaceful climate by the time I decided to actually visit you? Why is it so tense out there?" I asked, pulling it closer and turning it around before sitting down.

The deep sadness in her eyes settled as she replied to me, her smile weary and tired, "….we're doing our best. I suppose if you delayed your visiting me a little longer, you might find the climate just a bit closer to your liking."

She's positive, at least. And she's holding on to hope. That's a good thing.

So far, things are quiet in Kazdel under her rule but I could feel the tension quite thickly underneath it all. Some of the people are getting a tad bit testy despite the gradual restoration of their country, especially when they're getting harassed by other nations. The justified fear of possibly getting their full attention and having their country splintered once again by them isn't allowing any hope to grow quickly.

Some of the Sarkaz wanted retaliation. Some wanted to prepare defenses. More opinions of similar nature that don't agree with Theresa's administration could be felt almost everywhere, even if their numbers are quite minor. War traditions and a martial culture are the primary causes of these opinions.

"So, um…how have you been since we last saw each other?" Theresa asked to evade the topic, now proceeding to the tea set that's sitting on a small table against the wall.

"Busy…and tired." I answered willingly, my tail wrapped around the chair's legs as I kept my back straight and my arms crossed. "Ursus' corruption reached a new low. Atop their expansionism and bigotry, now they made new laws targeted primarily to torment the Infected just to distract the masses from the corruption and incompetence of their government and their failing military campaigns."

"Is that so? I heard of quite the events that occurred there over the years. And I hear of a newly-ascended Tsar there? A new Emperor?"

Hmph.

My lips sneered slightly, "A new Tsar. His name is Fyodor, Son of Vladimir. The Soft Emperor."

She turned a questioning stare towards me, "Soft? Is that what his subjects call him? Or maybe that's your assessment of him?"

"Compared to his stupid father, he's not a warmongering fool set on a path to his country's eventual destruction like many others from past old nations, including the ones that were before the Khagan conquest. Aside from his progressive and reformist ideals as well as his sympathy for the Infected's plight, he's every bit as caring to his subjects as his Da." Now that I'm saying it out loud, I feel just as disgusted as before. Discovering that the old bastard genuinely cared just baffles me.

"Judging by how busy you are," She paused, pouring the hot water from the kettle. "I assume that his will is unheard by the ones under him, especially the nobility, undermining his effort to manage a country that's used to a warpath set by his predecessor. He must have been ridiculed for not being war-hungry by his father's supporters."

"Fortunately for him, the old nobility are nothing but dying old men and deluded young men, low in numbers thanks to the rebellion that happened prior. The new generation of nobility will be after his own heart, having grown tired of the economy being drained by their useless wars. Unfortunately, a majority of the armies are still under the former. He's yet to have any grip and power over them yet. He has little capital."

A silence passed as she placed the finishing touches of the tea, even squeezing a bit of lemon juice into the mix.

Yum.

Then she takes a small plate and a full cup, delivering it to me. "I hope you don't mind the additional flavor. I do recall that you disliked the one I gave you during our first meetings."

My snout released a guttural chuckle as I took the cup by the rims from atop, leaving the small plate untouched since I can take the heat of the porcelain on my palms. "I'm very touched that you recall."

Theresa brought the plate with her as she returned to the small table and picked up her own cup, placing it atop the saucer and proceeding to her four-poster bed.

As she gently sat down, careful not to bounce and spill her tea, she asked, "So….um….about Tsar Fyodor? What do you think about him? Will he become the new receiver of your grace in your Pilgrimage?"

"As powerless as he is? No." I paused, relishing in the taste of the tea she made as I drank from it easily despite my snout feline but in small amounts, my free hand hovering beneath to catch any drops just in case. It actually tastes good. Lemon tang aside, this isn't the same tea as last time and the base has its own flavor too. Impressive. "He must make the first move if he's to receive it. The moment he succeeds a major move in any way is the automatic indication of his value worthy of my attention."

Porcelain clinked together as Theresa lowered her cup down, "And while you wait for his initiative, what sort of adventures were you up to in Ursus?"

"The usual virtue." I wipe the fur near my mouth with a fist, licking my lips. "In this case, saving the ones suffering under Ursus' tyranny….and overseeing a certain idiot that impulsively left your rule."

I peeked to the side of my eye to watch the little King rummage through her memories, looking up to her brain and trying to remember who I'm talking about.

I patiently waited, drinking some more tea.

Oh, I ran out of tea very quickly. This big mouth and belly of mine or this tiny teacup.

Oh well.

I walk over to the small table to put it down instead of refilling. I'm not here for that. Just as I put it down, Theresa finally spoke up.

"Ah, you mean Buldrokkas'tee. Yes, I can recall." I sense some pride in her voice, and I actually liked hearing it when it's regarding her deserting subject. "His magnificent reputation has reached here in Kazdel. Many Sarkaz lauds him as a hero. I ask that you please don't judge him for suddenly departing from my court. He had his reasons. He feared to fight the wars in Kazdel that would plague his whole life if he stayed."

Pfft!

The entire room trembled as my throat rumbled a deep growl, crumpling my fists as I stood in the middle of the room, "His excuses are full of bullshit and you know it. You wear the Black Crown, Theresa. You should know the emotions that ran through his head as he served you."

"I didn't. But I know that he left for the right reasons."

"If you say that he hated wars the same way he claimed to be when I asked, which could serve as his reasoning to leave your side, then I say that he wrongfully assumed that you were a warmongering fool just like your brother and left to avoid your rule, only to be proven wrong when you were different and now he can't bear to face you without feeling shame for it. And what does he do in Ursus? Fought in more wars!" I am already shouting, my physical mouth opening wide and lightly roaring. If it weren't for my body blocking out the noise, even her stupid brother and the Confessarius would have heard me by now, "Became my enemy! Desecrated the reasoning why I called him my Brother! Can I expect a bigger hypocrite from anyone else in your court, Theresa!?"

She gave me a pointed look, critical but understanding, "Are you to judge, Jacob?"

...She sees it. She sees it, doesn't she? There's no way she doesn't...

I sneered once again, growling as the walls spoke with emotionless tones, "As far as I'm concerned, Theresa….yes. I knew where his actions will lead to. It's in my generosity to guide him as my centuries have taught me. I did my best to steer him away from it but his reputation came first before his ears are no longer deaf to me. His actions come to a head when he doesn't actively face responsibility for his actions until it took something away from him. If you could look at him now….."

Theresa fluidly stood up from the bed, the sound of her heels clicking as she walked over to the small table to put her cup down.

Then she turned around to face me, opening her arms towards me.

...I sighed heavily.

She did see it.

You and your fucking Black Crown, Theresa.

I walked in small steps towards her, dragging my hooves as I do. Once I'm almost in certain reach of her arms, I then kneel down on both legs, sitting on my ankles and bowing my head.

This isn't submission in any way. She would never disrespect me like this.

Theresa took a small step forward, then wrapped her hands around my neck and resting her temple against my head, embracing me tightly, scratching my mane and patting my nape. I feel every bit of her Sarkaz King Arts infusing comfort and warmth in my head, severely unwanted but oh so tempting and intoxicating to indulge in.

"You say such scornful words….yet all I feel from your heart is pity, compassion, and love." Theresa's soft voice against my ear was the most understanding I've ever heard, trumping every other person that ever said the same. And her words have weight, and that isn't because of the Black Crown. If it were otherwise, I would have rebuffed her sympathy straight away. "Whatever Buldrokkas'tee had lost there in Ursus, you feel it as if it were your own. His tears are yours. His pain…his suffering…you do not wear the Black Crown, yet your heart understands him more than I could ever do. No one ever deserves you, Jacob. You bear so much guilt and sadness in his place, regretting that you could have done more."

Then she stops talking. Normally, there would be more words of comfort to say here, but not Theresa. She knows what and who I am. She established that the moment she used the full extent of her Sarkaz Arts on me when I held her hand for the first time, looking deep into my millennium long history.

I tasted every kind of joy and despair that the world had to offer before they began repeating themselves. Feeling the pain of another person? Buldrokkas'tee was the third time. Therefore, she does not need to say more. Someone else already said them to me before her, therefore she only needs to fulfill the most essential action for someone as ancient as me: the kind touch.

The simple touch of someone that's willing to take the initiative and comfort me. Whether that be patting my shoulder, holding me and rubbing my back, or even just being there to listen, that would help more than the words of those younger than me.

Despite my reluctance, I willingly hug Theresa back, taking in the warmth she's passing to me without resistance. And my body purred, making me tighten my embrace and wrapping my tail around us. She accepted my hold and tightened her embrace as well, giving even more of her Arts.

At the same time, I didn't merely take. Once I had enough, I gave her comfort and affection as well, easily brushing off the warmth she's showering on me and sending my own back through the channel created by her Arts.

Kazdel may be rebuilding itself but it's not an accomplishment without issue. There's always something slowing it down or hampering its honest progression that needed to be handled, and surprise, surprise, it's her fucking brother.

Compared to Theresa's approach of pacifism, moderation and rare escalations to tragic warfare, Theresis is a jingoistic moron who thinks power and war is the only answer to every setback that menaces Kazdel, especially the other Nations that harass it. He's a blind idiot, doomed to feed his country and people's suffering, and I fear for the worse.

And he's already gaining a slow but certain momentum of acquiring the support and approval of the Sarkaz people. Worst-case scenario in a few years from now or even less, he gains the approval of the leaders of other Sarkaz tribes, especially the war-hungry ones like the vampires.

There is no way Theresa does not foresee it. It's definitely possible and only a matter of time.

Such a reality would truly weigh on her mind, especially when it's her own brother.

And with her Black Crown? The weight of her responsibility as their King gets amplified, literally hearing every need of change and reforms for the better from every Sarkaz demanding it from her. And that's on top of the fear that she fails to gain their support over Theresis.

I lighten my embrace, leaned back to move Theresa's head away from my shoulder and begin nipping her forehead and hair, like a mother cat to her kitten. I held her like a daughter, patting her back and transmitting affection through it as well. Since she's younger than me and my head is shaped like the Aslans, it's easier and sensible to do.

We indulged each other like this for a while, exchanging comfort in a way that only a pair of highly empathetic people could do. We're not kissing or anything, yet this feels quite so intimate and close, and scandalously so for she's the Sarkaz King.

But labels like that don't exist for the moment. I only see a kid with too much on her plate than she had any reason to be. As an adult, I am obliged to give her an opportunity to lie down and a moment to pick herself up. She can do it. I believe in her. She isn't alone. She has more than loyal soldiers. She has friends in her circle. That's more than enough.

I held her shoulder with one hand while the other moved a frayed lock of pink hair to the side with my large pinky. She kept her hold on me, fluffing her hands on my mane and cheek. I looked at her like a baby girl to cuddle and play with, she clearly held me in her eyes like a gigantic dexterous cat to pet and nuzzle. I allow the thought. She clearly needs any moment to be a child without any Kingly obligations on her head.

"Tell me, Theresa. I want to know." I began, turning to look her directly in the eye, and she returned my gaze sincerely, "Does a heart that feels for another like mine and yours…..serve as a good thing for our own person?"

She smiled gently, cupping my Aslan cheek, "Our capacity for empathy is sometimes outside our own choices. What it does to us and what we do with it is our own decision to make. But for others, it's what lets them heal when they need it most. If it's within my power to pull others from the pit they fell into and build them up as they find the heart to stand up again, then I shall do it, no matter how many times."

I sighed heavily, ducking my head even lower.

We parted our embrace and I stood up tall, turning around and taking small steps back to the chair.

Before that, however, "You know what I hate, Theresa?"

"Hmm?"

"It's the fact that you tend to say what I already know. I lived for a whole millennium to have this kind of wisdom and empathy, and you're the same at only more than two centuries while wearing your crown. We're too alike in some ways and that annoys me."

She hummed interestingly, and my horns tagged her body language as childishly inquisitive, hiding her hands behind her and leaning forward, "What do you do for others with your aged wisdom and everlasting empathy that endured the years of your life?"

What I'm currently doing to Buldrokkas'tee.

"To build the broken. The same way you're doing for Kazdel, in a certain way." I turn around to face her, "We might as well be soulmates for our certain similarities, Theresa, but I'm fairly certain someone else has taken the spot for other reasons."

She gasped, then that mouth twisted into a leery smirk, teasing all the way to hell. I never saw her wear that face before and I'm actually disgusted.

Oh fuck, here it comes.

"Oh~ Do I sense the mighty Chimera that squared against the mightiest in Kazdel's tribes just to have an audience with me actually having the ulterior motive of wooing me~?" The closer she was getting into my face, I quickly scoffed and rolled my eyes as I quickly kept my back facing her. "Does he somehow fancy a little lady like me?"

"Don't glorify it, you little shit." I start rotating around, keeping my back to her as she's trying to get into my front to see my face, "I'm not even trying to hide such a thing. The idea of mentioning it aloud is infantile."

I start walking around the room to get away from her intrusive face and she's still following me, "Ooh~ I wonder what will come from this development I've learned from you?"

I warp myself towards near the bed space, crossing my arms as she was baffled at me suddenly disappearing in front of her the sooner she blinked until she turned around, "You do realize that I would have pursued your hand if it weren't for obvious factors that prevent me? I'd be honored to love you and take care of you as I live by your side. I'd be driven to help you in your endeavors for Kazdel, even supply you with all the manpower and logistics you'd need for your people to thrive again, and even provide you the repose of a whole century to regain your whole strength if you merely asked it of me."

She's still smiling, but none of the teasing air now. She knows I'm being serious and now she's regarding the notion carefully, "Well, why not pursue me now? Even if we're burdened by our responsibilities, we are but mature and rational adults who can manage our time properly, personal and work. There's nothing stopping us from trying."

This girl...!

I frowned, "You are getting ahead of yourself, little girl. You are a person that's completely detached and independent from my existence. You exist outside myself. You're different. You're nothing like me. And that's what makes you so beautiful. Therefore, I will love you for every reason you have for being that way. But can you? Can you match such unconditional love and reciprocate my affections until the end of time? Are you worthy of it?"

I smirked my Aslan snout, already knowing the answer and also coming to a new realization.

I'm also not letting her answer the question herself, "It seems I found the wonderful disparity between us. You're far too young to talk about love."

She pouted and deflated visibly, totally unfitting of an adult woman like her. And it's quite the adorable thing to see.

"I'll have you know that I'm over several centuries years old." Her indignant voice filled me with so much joy.

"Which proves….nothing." I warp myself in front of her, then suddenly pick her up bridal style.

"WAGH!" Ha! Her yelp is so delicious to hear.

"Even those of advanced age are still prone to infantile lines of thinking. And human minds like us are not excluded in that regard despite our best efforts."

I then head towards the bed and sat down on the edge, bouncing a bit before setting her down on my lap, her legs on one side, and wrapping my arms around her waist. She willingly leaned her head against my shoulder, offering no protest in her placement and instead taking the moment to experience being pampered by a large fuzzy beast, running a white hand through my chest fur.

Is it soft to the touch? I never checked.

We take a moment to catch our breath from that little play, and when she got herself together, she asked, "How are you feeling, Jacob? Are you doing well? You're not lonely? I hope you have someone by your side in your Pilgrimage. I've seen how much isolation could hurt you in your long years."

Already ahead of you.

"I prized myself a lovable being that threw her whole heart and soul into serving me. If I were still a god, then she's my adoring 'priestess'...though she definitely sees me as one. A speaker of my will and a representative of my person, without sacrificing her own heart and will as well."

The one thing I can be proud of is that I did not raise the girl to be that way. It's entirely her choice to be so devoted to me.

"This adoring girl of yours sounds like an interesting one. I'd like to meet her someday. How did you find her?"

My throat rumbled lightly, grim in tone. "A Sankta was exiled from Laterano for being Infected. Her condition was discovered when she was with child. She would have died with her unborn infant on her exodus if my slaves wandering near the nation's outskirts weren't there to save her from the raiding party that awaited her."

Theresa was silent for a minute, and I knew what ran through her mind before she said anything, "...Were they Sarkaz?"

I didn't answer, I simply growled. You know the answer to that question, little girl.

She sighed mournfully when she realized that I wasn't going to say anything, tiredly leaning her head against my chest.

"What of her husband?"

I audibly clicked my tongue in my snout. A thick snapping sound that echoed in the room.

"He died on the line of duty, some time after their child's conception, struck down by a Sarkaz raiding party. When she took revenge, that was likely the day she became Infected."

".….sad."

Indeed. All that blood just to be thrown out of your country where your unborn child could have grown healthily in? Is it all worth it? It took long until her old age to say 'no'.

Predictable human nature and thinking. So typical yet so understandable it's actually annoying.

"I could have offered her a longer life, long enough for her to pay for her mistake of such an impulsive action that cost her child's livelihood." I slightly lowered my head, pursing my lips. "She denied herself from it. She even refused my charity of taking away her Infection. She owned up to her sin and consigned her wish for a long and healthy life towards her born-Infected daughter. For her sacrifice, I dedicated her final years to her comfort and fulfillment. Wherever she wished to travel, whatever she wanted to do, whoever she wanted to meet, the things she wanted for herself...I gave her every opportunity to have them and she earned accomplishment after accomplishment. She lived with little regrets."

Theresa sighed, wistful. "Generous as always, aren't you? Did she pass on?"

"Peacefully, surrounded by her loved ones. After the end of her Lateran burial customs, I concluded the ceremony with all my customs, every chant and dirge dedicated to her memory." I answered sincerely. "She was well-loved by the community in my haven, ever so helpful and warm to the people around her, even towards my Sarkaz subjects. A bright teacher, a precious friend and a revered mother, she was. We erected a Lateran Chapel in her name, and those of its faith sit inside for the sermons and honor her name. Those outside of it clean it regularly, reminiscing of the warm times spent with her that brought fire to the icy Tundra of Ursus."

Theresa crumpled the fur on my chest, fondness seeping through her touch, "Her sweet final moments were only possible because of you. Be glad for that."

"I am." And proudly so. "The only mistake I have ever committed is regarding her daughter. I raised and loved her well. Too well, now the girl has dedicated her entire being to me. She has wholeheartedly thrown her entire body and soul to such worship of me, loving me and only me. Though she matches my charity and dedication for the community and the children's well-being, she would never love another man. Whether as my consort or as a concubine, her infinite well of affection for me will never dry and she will find any possible way to stay by my side no matter what until the day of her passing. Even if I had rejected her, she would be celibate and take the vow of eternal service to my name. That is not what I wanted for her. I wanted her to live as freely as she wishes outside of me. I suspect her mother being responsible for this."

Theresa giggled. A rather pleasing song to my ears. "Take responsibility, Jacob. You are directly involved in her growth, after all. I think her idea of freedom is choosing to be dedicated in heart, mind and body to you. That's entirely of her own freewill."

"I know." Goodness, just hearing the same words again is so annoying. "She practically said the same thing as well. She wants nothing more and she doesn't regret her choice, and now that she's a grown and mature woman, her word is final. She's set in her ways. Now I will never be free of her."

"Hmph." Theresa harrumphed, "Then make her service to you worth her every action. It's the only way you can give her fulfillment as you did her mother."

Wise words...but it didn't enlighten me.

"I know. It's what her mother would have wanted. It's my duty to be worthy of her joyful devotion. Her life's too short for her eternal worship of me, which is why I'm making plans for an adventure across the world together with her to broaden her horizons and see if it changes her mind...hopefully."

"Hmm." She yawned lightly, patting her hand on my chest. I returned the gesture by lightly patting her waist. "What's her name?"

My throat rumbled pleasantly, "I gave her a Sarkaz name. Hanina."

She paused for a bit, "Ah, from another dialect of Teekaz." Theresa sounded quite delighted, "Hanina...it means 'gracious'. But if you shorten it, it turns into 'cutie'. Ha! Who made you this clever, especially in a language that isn't yours?"

"Since ever I was clever. I had many opportunities to be together with many Sarkaz nomads. Even once wedded myself to one, centuries before I properly met you."

"I heard that your fluency of an ancient dialect baffled the tribe leaders, especially as you shouted titles and accolades."

Safe to say that I'm definitely proud of myself back then, especially when the Nachzehrer King gave me his praise and respect. He was quite the terror to fight, worse than the Sanguinarch. Condescending bloodsucking little bitch.

"At least they have not forgotten much of their roots. Their culture still have value in my eyes, even for a splintered Kazdel."

"And this little Hani is a Sankta? And you gave her a Sarkaz name?"

"Indeed, I baptized and christened her outside of Lateran customs." Getting pettily haughty now. I hope her Black Crown could sense it. "And I raised her to be above the Sarkaz-Sankta tribalistic whim to kill each other. She did grow up alongside Sarkaz children that were born in my haven, making a huddle of loving brothers and sisters with them. Even lovingly raised the next batch of newborns herself when their parents are occupied with my duties for them. Her mother had to adopt my views very quickly for she risks her unborn daughter's wellbeing in my haven if she doesn't change herself first. She would have been evicted otherwise."

She briefly chuckled her song again. "That's one way to persuade progressiveness in a person. Little Hani must be raised to be the best of her generation."

Well, I wonder about that...Hanina's been growing a tail since her adolescence. Sankta don't grow tails. Sarkaz do. But her tail is not like a Sarkaz. It's Pythian. And she has HORNS. Not even a Fallen either. Some newborn children are showing similar chimeric traits as well, making their actual race classifications ever so confusing. Very few of them are purely similar to both or one of their parent's racial heritage.

But in regards to her humanity, however...

"During her usual duties of comforting the grieving, she learned too harshly that she's far too sheltered in my haven to say understanding words to her Infected charges when she barely knew their pain under Ursus' cruelty. The screaming and roaring she endured from the most damaged of them..."

I went more into detail, including the choice Hanina made to make the effort to understand how Infected people suffer, especially in Ursus.

Eventually, Theresa and I went on for hours, taking any topic we can conjure out of thin air and make it something for us to get our minds away from our respective duties. I am the entire Haven of Ursus, she's the King of Kazdel. We're busy every single day, doing all that we could for our respective peoples. We're a tired pair, so we're taking a long break.

Thanks to the reality I bound ourselves in, we can take as long as we like. Time goes as I say in here and I said 'stop'.

And so, we ended up having a bit of fun. Just a bit. We're confined to this room, no luxury available for us to do more like take a walk outside. But we made do. We exchanged stories. From them, we laughed, cried, envied, got angry, and even hoped better for the other.

Over time, we ended up lying down on the same bed while doing so, changing positions every 30 minutes when we got uncomfortable, sometimes keeping our hands on the other. Hers on my head and ruffling my mane, my tail around her leg or wrist and randomly shaking it.

When we ran out of stories, we horsed around next, playing any game I could remember during my long years, giving her-no, us a moment to be a kid again. I expanded the space of her little room so we can run around, even warped the surroundings to a rich forest during the morning or an open field of grass in the midafternoon.

Welcome to my personal Eden, Theresa. You've never been here.

Shocked her well when it got suddenly as bright as daytime. Understandable. I couldn't do this when we first met, and I cannot believe the number of questions she could ask me regarding this Miracle. But I deflected each one, instead throwing her to the grassy ground and running away while laughing, goading her to chase me and pay the attack back.

Whether open fields or obstructive terrain, no one can beat me in a game of chase and tag. But I showed mercy by slowing down just so she can have a chance at reaching me, but I sure as hell am not letting her touch me! I may be big but I know how to be agile when it counts.

Over time, we played other games or just plain nonsense, such as shouting into a valley of mountains to hear the echoes, rolled a giant stone down a hill and watch it cause destruction, or even climbed up trees so we can pretend to be giants and see how far we could see.

And as a privileged treat, I let her ride on my back while I ran on all fours, enjoy the wind blowing on her face as we crossed the lands of False Terra, from the arid wastelands that surrounded Kazdel to even the bountiful forests of Kazimierz. I give her all the sights, and thanks to my record of having travelled practically everywhere—except Yan, fuck that place—she gets to see as much as I had seen.

To see Theresa smile...it rejuvenated me just by looking at her. So full of life and free of burdens. She's finally letting loose and I'm glad to give her the opportunity to, even if this will be the only time I'll let her without any transactions.

I don't know how long we stayed in the warped reality, but I knew that we were almost past a week...or even two. We couldn't get tired inside no matter the amount of movement we do. We might as well have lived a whole year inside if I dare to say. Theresa starved for adventure on the world now that she doesn't have to be a King for as long as she wanted, even if it was so lifeless. There were no animals or even other people. It's so quiet and it eats away at your hope the moment you realize it.

And I consider that a good thing. I didn't want anyone and myself to be intoxicated in a false reality like my Eden, never wanting to get out and forgetting that the real world exists.

And just as I expected, Theresa realized her own simple truth my Eden was trying to tell her.

Such a paradise...and I am the only one reveling in it. How could this be an Eden...if I cannot even share it to others...?

That marked the end of our little escapade. She said that it's time to stop.

And just like that, we return to her little room. I was still sat on the bed, my arms around her waist, and she sat on my lap, legs on one side.

She took a deep breath and sighed, blissful, "That was a wonderful time. Thank you."

"You're welcome." I pat her head with my tail, "May you never return to it again."

She quickly got comfortable and leaned against the fluff on my chest like it's a pillow, "By the way, how is Buldrokkas'tee? The Mighty Patriot, as they call him now?"

"After his recent failures against me and his own heart, he pledged himself to my employment to serve his time in punishment. And now after 5 years, he's grown enough under my supervision that I can trust him to perform the duties I set for him without my guidance while I take the time to visit you."

Knowing Theresa, she can already tell that Buldrokkas'tee's pretty much a slave. Though I don't treat him like one, it doesn't mean he isn't. The idea of slavery during my youngest years is simply servitude under time, not human trafficking like what Kazimierz enjoys doing.

"If your emotions of him are of any tell, he's suffered so much and enough." She placed a hand on my chest, half-pleading and half-requesting, "Please, be kind and understanding to him. That's all I ask."

"I do understand him. And I'm very fair to him as I rightfully should. He earns his privileges every day, and his works leaves me full of joy, pride and accomplishment. His honorarium is already waiting for him in the haven once the first stage of his tenure is due."

"...I'm half-envious of him." She chuckled briefly, "According to some that knew your history, you are the most coveted master and benefactor, if not patron of all that serve you or are served by you. Your rewards would fulfill a man till the end of his days..."

...are you implying something, little girl?

I turn to look down on Theresa, and as I expected, she was already looking back up at me as she leaned against my chest.

It seems she's now intent on the reason why I visited her.

Now that play time and small talk is over, it's time for some real business.

Throat rumbling, I place my arm under her thighs before I stand up from the bed and set her back down on it, on which her demeanor completely changes as she puts her legs together, straightens her back and firmly holding her gaze upon me, one hand atop the other as it rests on her lap.

I don't see that little girl that laughed as she chssed me around the woods anywhere now. Now I stand in the presence of Kazdel's King, ready to receive me in her presence and hear out my terms.

My throat released a pleased groan at such a shift. A good reminder from our first meetings that this girl is not completely naïve or weak in the mind. She knows her place on the throne very well. The admiration and worship every Sarkaz has for her is earned and justified.

I pull her desk chair closer and place it down in front of her before I sat down, regal and civilized like a human entering a King's court.

Then I begin the exchange, my throat rumbling deeply.

"Hail, King of Kazdel."

And I add nothing more, for that's all I'm ever going to hail her for. People might see it as demeaning compared to the hundreds I'd give to my opponents but they fail to see the significance of it. These titles are usually given to those who can fight me. But acknowledging an official position, especially someone that doesn't fight? That's not given freely. I've lived my life despising so many Kings and Queens, commonly failing to meet my expectations. Very few monarchs and leaders during my long life did I ever respected and called my friend.

"I am Jacob of Minos, son of Magnus and Sofia. Rogue god of the Isolated. Patron of Ursus' Infected Haven. I come bearing goods and goodwill, keen to discuss matters for our mutual and beneficial interests. Therefore, I propose a patronage, lending support to the leading person of Kazdel."

She nodded to me, "I am open to this discussion, Jacob of Minos. What sort of patronage do you offer and what are the terms that come with it?"

I took a deep breath before exhaling, seething through my bare teeth. "I come to contribute to your endeavors. I donate miracles and charity in dedication to your name. A deposit of my resources for you to use as you see fit."

She smiled politely, "So you're lending a loan to help our cause?"

"An investment." I firmly corrected, snapping out a growl as I briefly opened my mouth to reveal my teeth. "You will have nothing of value that can equal my worth by the time my due has come if it were."

"Is that out of precaution for your interests and out of mercy for us if such a scenario came to be?"

My throat hissed out lowly, my brow creasing into a glare.

….She doesn't see it yet, does she?

Or maybe she does, she's just simply hoping to be wrong about it. I understand why if it were the case. It's just out of love, a kind that I can wholeheartedly support. Unfortunately, it keeps her from seeing the reality clearly or just simply admitting it.

Which is why someone else has to assume the worse for her. Let that be me or someone else, and I know there is someone else in her inner circle that's thinking the same thing. That person knows better, and as much as I do too. I'm sure.

I sneered, furrowing my brow even deeper, "Out of fear. You are not only surrounded by allies. Beware the insidious hands around you and the hidden dagger concealed from behind. Scorched earth and barren lands brought by both do not pay debts. An investment will grant us both a hope of future gain…." Then I remind myself of her brother, adding a layer of growling to the Viper's hiss. "…..or mutual loss."

She was briefly silent for a few seconds, knowing what I'm talking about, "….In the light of such possibilities, do you still intend to pledge your name to my cause? You will risk becoming either the enemy of Kazdel or the enemy of the world. I have no assurance to offer you in light of these possibilities, I'm afraid."

Condemn me and end my life if I don't know that already, Theresa.

I nodded, "I do. I foresee the reward and the risk. They are equal in measure, uplifting or condemning us both in a foreseeable future of unthinkable circumstances. In spite of these factors, I will still contribute. For I see a possible opportunity will be made available if your works are made true and accomplished. And from that opportunity, I will collect my interests and propose again another patronage, this time for the restored Kazdel's benefit and for every Infected in the world."

Theresa nodded sagely, and considering the kind of miracle she knew me for, I can tell that she has a clue of what I'm getting at. "Certain factors concern me. You operate a different agenda within the territories of Ursus, do you not?"

Very good. She's being cautious.

"Yes, I do. But as I stated, this will benefit us both, and that includes my pilgrimage in Ursus. I suffer no significant loss in my resources and have more to spare for future expenditures."

"Another concern...is your patronage risking Kazdel being implicated by Ursus if your actions within its borders are discovered. In the worst-case scenario that you are caught, I cannot risk collateral to affect Kazdel in turn."

A justifiable worry. Kazdel is steadily rebuilding itself thanks to her and her brother. And every country in the world is already beginning to feel concerned over such a thing. The fact that Kazdel has been progressing properly to its resurgence without major action done by some of the Superpowers is a grace with an extremely short lifespan.

My patronage to her goals inside Ursus' borders might just reduce it to less than a year if I'm ever caught. Even with Ursus practically under a state of calamity thanks to its dying economy, it still has a formidable army. Vladimir's influence has quite the tendency to last for a long time, and his son is too weak to protect me from it.

But again, condemn and end my life if I didn't consider that either.

"Among the gifts I offer, I carry the miraculous means of communication and transport without the need of messengers, couriers or vehicles. For any resource and asset I donate, I shall deliver it within your reach and I need not leave the borders of Ursus to do so. Behold."

I hold out my hand towards her, palm up, and she turned to see a clump of white cold particles that suddenly appeared atop my grasp.

"What is that?"

"Snow." I crumpled it into a tight ball and dropped it to the carpet, crumbling apart easily and beginning to melt, "Ursus snow, scraped and collected from under the foot of a military general standing at attention before his Nation's flag and saluting it merely seconds ago. The phenomena will never be traced back to me and such a sight will never be held as truth to the ears of others. He will never know what became of the snow under his boot, for he never acknowledged its existence as more than the dirt underneath."

Theresa's quiet fascination is heard through her question, "And this 'miracle' of yours guarantees all of your expenditures to be held in complete secret?"

"According to my knowledge, which I can rightfully boast is unmatched whenever it so much as concerned me, only those of my closest circle ever knew about this miracle of mine. Its mechanisms are meticulously masked with years of learned elusion, deception, and misdirection. I have already tampered with much of Ursus' logistics in their weaponry since Tsar Vladimir's ascension, and I'm yet to be discovered."

Theresa mulled over her hands, thinking over my words. If she can find other concerning factors with my offer, I hope she does. Make it as many as possible if she could. It might be possible that I might have missed one that completely slipped my mind or forgotten a minor one that didn't seem significant but still needing to be considered.

"...What if Kazdel does not accept your patronage?"

"That is for you to decide. Your people need only to follow your lead, not to decide for you. In addition, I was once a patron to many citizens of Kazdel. My name was passed down as an honored memory to their descendants. I hear their praise and reverence, even to this day. My goodwill is secure if it came to that."

Her ringed fingers curled into fists, "What if you become exploited? Embezzled? What if your patronage becomes something for schemers within or without Kazdel to take advantage of?"

I growled haughtily.

"I decide what I give. Without my personal blessings, no one will ask of anything of me, not even you. I offer options and you are to choose what most benefit your endeavors in the situation that calls for it. And as for the schemers and leeches of my patronage, that will be outside my hands. My contributions are yours to use as seen fit and what happens to them is entirely up to you. Until I deem it worthy of my intervention, such seething matters will be under your jurisdiction."

She interlocked her fingers together atop her lap, lowering her head just slightly to be deep in thought.

Think as long as you wish, Theresa. Risks, advantages, threats, opportunities, and other long-term factors—consider them all.

I've taken years to consider this patronage that will affect Kazdel as a whole, even digging deep to look into the internal factors of the country just to see what's really wrong. I had to think of every risks and possible downfalls that could possibly happen and conjured every possible solution to counter them, especially when it concerns Ursus.

I don't have enough solutions to perfectly secure everything, which is why this deal is considered a severe risk for me as well.

She and I continue discussing the many risks she could think up. For each one, I had a prepared response ready and waiting for it. I hoped she could bring up a factor or concern that I could not be quick to answer. I even wished that she brings up something that I would have no answer for, just so we can iron out this deal and reduce the risks around it, presumed or otherwise.

But no. As many as she could ask, there was no struggle for me in addressing every single one.

And it's more worrying than assuring for someone like me.

In my long life, I learned that there are no guarantees no matter how much you prepare until it finally strikes. It's only after the fact that you can call yourself overprepared when nothing of major incident happened.

And I'm never lucky enough to earn a complete streak of perfect plans no matter my experiences. There's always something that comes into existence without warning to disfigure everything, forcing me to improvise and sometimes make sacrifices or worse, abandon it all completely.

Gaul's fall as a nation or the Profound Silence in Iberia were just one of the many. The Khagan conquest was something else entirely—I don't even want to discuss it. They all happened due to factors I didn't see coming until it's too late, leaving me completely powerless to stop it from happening. No number of improvisations or sacrifices would have changed the outcome.

Who's to say what unexpected entity will menace my patronage to Theresa? I only wish that I can improvise properly if it ever came.

I hear Theresa release a sharp hissing breath. She straightened her posture and gazed down upon me, "I will ask again before I make my choice. Do you still intend to be Kazdel's patron, knowing all the dangers you and I are fully aware of?"

I roared irritably, stomping my hoof, "No!"

Her eyes were wide with shock at my answer.

"...W-what?"

My throat hissed and growled as I explained myself, baring my teeth, "You have misinterpreted my proposal. Therefore, I shall reiterate: I propose a patronage, lending support to the leading person of Kazdel. I will not contribute to the country Kazdel. I will not contribute to the Sarkaz people of Kazdel. I contribute only and specifically, to you, King Theresa of the Sarkaz people of Kazdel. Support to you. All of my resources only for you to use as you see fit. That is the term of my Patronage."

She held me in her eyes for a moment, then considered my words, pondering over it deeply in silence.

So I waited.

...then her eyes closed as she lowered her head, accepting the clear implications of our contract. I sense both hope and trepidation from her person. Only time will tell which one will guide her forward from then on.

She stood up, reaching for my hands.

I stood up as well and I receive her touch. Such small Sarkaz hands clasping on the first joint of my index fingers.

Looking deep into my eyes, she intoned, "I accept your kindness, Jacob of Minos. May this mark the beginning of our partnership and may Kazdel reap peace from the harvests of your making." I leaned slightly downwards so our foreheads can touch, and with this, the contract is signed with her name and made final.

Then she let go, falling down to her bed on her back with a bounce, arms spread, splaying all of her pink hair everywhere and sighing heavily, as if unlatching the Kingly demeanor off her person was as much as removing a heavy coat, "Goodness, am I glad to stop being so big and mighty. For once, I'm glad."

"For what?"

"To be this petite, because clearly someone has to make up for your size of presence."

I hissed, "Are you calling me obese, little girl?"

"Nooo~ I would never~"

I snorted, crossing my arms as I sat back down on the chair, shaking my horns. Time for the slaves in RIM Billiton to wake up from their dirtnap.

"So, if we're going to be partners from now on, what do you think of gaining from this? I forgot to ask."

"Irrelevant for now, and an investment's interest only increases if a deposit is made in the first place." I reached up to rub my eyes, sending out the command to start digging, "I heard tell of a certain 'something' buried in the sands of RIM Billiton. I also heard tell of a commission for a mining company there to find it being written at your request just today. But if I were to sign down my first deposit for my investments…."

I tagged Theresa's movements. She sat up, had her hands together and leaned her upper body forward, "Are you intending what I think you're intending?"

"Then I need not explain too deeply nor say what that 'something' is." I lower the hand rubbing my eyes, "I have already found its location. So I offer two options for you in light of this."

"Tell me. I'm eager to know."

I raise up one draconic finger, "Give me the prompt and I will commence for its swift excavation. The timeframe will be a month at least to a week at most. However, its escorted passage from there to here will be up to your management." I held up option finger number two, "The other choice will be to warp its location from there to here in a single blink of an eye. However, the first option will be revoked. Your commission to RIM Billiton's mining company will now be needed to excavate it in my place."

Suddenly, this little girl became meek. "No chance for me to request its buried location warped nearby instead?"

You little...!

I stomped my hoof on the ground, snapping my snout forward in an audible clack as I hissed at her. "No! I decide what I invest! I already stated that!"

Then I snorted at her as I backed away, crossing my arms with a huff. Theresa righted her posture after leaning away from the mouthful of teeth that came close to biting her nose off.

"Remember what I fear, Theresa." I reminded softly, turning to stare at the wall. Past this wall and into the distance, I am staring at the other leading but lesser figure of Kazdel. A factor that I discovered during my investigations to be the potential undoing of the both of us. I growled viciously, "Hastiness will cost us both. This I am certain without doubt."

She bowed her head solemnly, understanding. "...I understand. Forgive me for asking too much." Then her tone suddenly changed, a mischievous look crossing her face, "But you can at least allow me a moment to have a joke, yes? No need to be so serious all the time, otherwise your little Hanina's going to end up more like you when you clearly stated you want her existing outside of you."

Being sly now, are we?

"Hmph." I stood up and carried the chair back to its original space near her study.

"Will that be all?" She asked, knowing the gesture's meaning.

I lowered my head, "For now. I have a few more to offer but it can wait. At the moment, you and your circle must come to a consensus for the two options. I will decide the next selection from there."

Let me just...get this one horn off the top my forehead. It's gotten loose, I made sure.

Theresa's worried voice called out, "Um...Jacob...?"

"Give me a few seconds." I replied curtly.

Leave me be, this will only take a twist and a tug...urrrgh...!

There! Cerato horn off. A bit of a skewed sensation of balance on my head but I shook it off very quickly.

Let me just blow some hot air into this thing and clear out the bacteria as well as dry out the residue of blood. And while I do, my head's likely closing the hole left behind.

Once that's done and waited for it to cool, I walk near the bed before holding out my free hand to her.

She takes it, pulls herself up to her feet, then I place the horn atop the palm I'm holding before closing her fingers around it...barely. She has tiny fingers. It might as well be a mini-missile in her hands. "Once the decision is made, hold this and call my name. A proxy will relay your choice to me."

"Just like that?" She asked, baffled rather minimally, "You will hear your name being called so long as I held this...is this the miracle you talked about? Did it come with your acquired divinity?"

"Maybe." I answered vaguely. I'm not handing out the details that easily. I need to be afraid for our own safety.

Kneeling down to one leg, I then pull her close to place one last booping kiss on her forehead once again before embracing her small frame to my chest very tightly. She did her best to return the affections just as tightly.

"I suppose this is goodbye for now?" She asked, muffled from the face full of fur. "Back you go to your adventurous charity in Ursus with Buldrokkas'tee?"

I grunted softly in reply.

"We'll see each other again." I promised, "This time, without the passing decades in-between."

We held each other just a little longer, and I waited to see if she would let go first.

...it seems she isn't.

Fine, I'll do it myself.

Separating ourselves from the chest but still holding the other by the arms, I took a deep breath and blew a gentle gust of wind to Theresa's countenance, replaying the last gesture I did during the departure of our last meeting. And just like before, I take in the magnificent sight of her pink hair fluttering so majestically.

Once I'm out of breath, I stood back up and took a few steps back, letting our grasp slip free of the other.

Then, I revoke the peaceful silence of an oppressively-quiet room, the bright shine of a moon muffled by a cloudy sky, the warmth of a room left cold by an unlit fireplace, the privacy of a space guarded by Ascalon, and once the last traces of my flesh is siphoned back to me, I will be warped out of Kazdel's borders.

For I was never here in the first place, such is the logic of reality.

I'm still in Ursus, having never spoken to the King of Kazdel, drank her tea, and embraced her multiple times.

But I did not neglect to warn her. And compared to Buldrokkas'tee, she will heed me for her own sakes. It's already happening and she knows it.

It's time to face reality.

"Beware Your brother. The Deaf And Blind Will Be Our Undoing."

---

A hazy snowstorm. Not one provided by Jacob's divinity, but it's just as quiet and camouflaging. Buldrokkas'tee can work with these conditions.

Having groomed and fashioned the Chimera's minions, having salvaged numerous weapons and armors from the many patrols, gulags and pogroms he's ambushed for the last year, engendering them to his standard of combat and strategy, the quick-learning Adams were easily molded into the likeness of Buldrokkas'tee's ShieldGuards compared to Jacob's organized hordes of teeth, claws, tails and stolen Arts that knew how to perform complex plans.

Having discovered a mining area that was quite larger than the ones before but not large enough to be a quarry, Buldrokkas'tee quickly took action and set his eyes on target. Despite his size and reputation, the Wendigo is not completely oblivious to a stealthy approach towards enemy territory. Any Ursus soldier worth their salt and blood would understand that not every foe can be defeated upfront.

In this operation, he can afford to walk on the open road leading to the mines. With the snowstorm, not even the watchtower guards could see him from this distance. As he walked, he did so with a jarring casualness that isn't typically seen from the mighty Wendigo, holding his shield by his side instead of his front and tapping the butt of his halberd on the ground in deliberate taps like a walking stick.

Tap.

Every single one of the watchtower guards were suddenly shot in the head by crossbow bolts, their demise completely unnoticed and leaving the presence of Buldrokkas'tee's shadow units unchecked.

Tap.

The patrolman that was about to notice the Wendigo's presence had his throat pierced by a thrown knife. His partner fared no better when a bearded axe came down on his skull, splitting it in half and spilling the red and pink contents everywhere. Their bodies were quickly cleared out of the scene.

Tap.

The command center tent is assaulted by a quad of sword-wielding Adams, the 6 men idling inside quickly cut down before any could raise the alarm or scream.

Tap.

One unified volley of crossbow bolts, the guards surrounding outskirts of the mining areas are shot dead. Their bodies would disappear a few seconds later, pulled out of the scene by smaller but no less swift of Jacob's minions.

All military personnel outside the prisoner zones are completely wiped out, confirmed by the clicking from his communicator with the Adams serving as his watchers on the other end.

Buldrokkas'tee increased the speed of his steady march, the tallest and muscular of Jacob's minions fitted in heavy armor and large shields in the likeness of his ShieldGuards following close behind.

The shadow units and the sniper squads followed his pace at fair and planned distances, awaiting the cue to take the shot or proceed ahead.

The watchers stationed themselves at perfect vantage points, interconnected perceptions giving them a complete panoramic view of the entire gulag, relaying significant factors such as enemy positions, terrain layout and other similar details in all directions and axes to the Wendigo via a series of clicks and ticks personally-made by himself, taking inspiration from Morse code.

According to them, the numerous guards within the prisoner zone are gathering in the center, hauling a lone prisoner towards it. An execution? Or punishment? The pattern of the clicked information in his communicator says that the dealings look vague. Either way, Buldrokkas'tee must hurry—

A hurried series of clicks were relayed to him, carrying a sense of urgency. Singular digits indicating an unused word in the coded vocabulary.

P.

R.

E.

G.

N.

A.

N.

T.

Before he even heard the last two letters, Buldrokkas'tee charged, a sudden but unfamiliar fury igniting in his heart and his tactical and genius mind became clouded by a singular thought: Kill.

His Arts roared, his power armor came to life, and suddenly, the bulky gates were blown outwards from the sheer force of impact the moment his shield collided against its metal surface. As soon as his entry disrupted the commotion, drawing all attention to his and his substitute ShieldGuards' presence, his sniper army and shadow units struck quickly.

Onlooking snipers were shot dead, overseers near the prisoners were cut down from behind, and the vanguard charged in from the opening he provided. There were no battle cries, just the rapid footfalls of monsters disguised as disciplined soldiers of Ursus and the ensuing panicking of the guards.

Both mundane and horrifying Arts were thrown, destroying the security tents in a cluster of earthen stakes and molten eruptions.

Those who tried to retaliate ended up facing either small forces that leapt at them with no regard for either pain nor death, or faced against a hulking squadron of ShieldGuards that blocked their every blow and grabbed them by the throat before either crushing them or impaling them on the nearest sharp object.

The ones who were close to the pregnant prisoner were handed the worst deaths the slaves of the Chimera could hope to conjure in their endless cruelty. One was grabbed from all sides, torn limb from limb and his organs divided amongst hungry mouths. Another was hacked apart by axes and swords, his agonized screams lasting longer than it reasonably should. The most unfortunate of them were thrown into a gathered number of Adams and was subsequently devoured whole as they tore off their facial coverings and gorged like a pack of starving animals, greedily taking what wasn't touched.

And Buldrokkas'tee threw all of his fury into a single throw towards the person he knew was the leading officer of this gulag, targeting the one who's more well-dressed, cleaner and fat, a disgraceful sight for a soldier of Ursus, panicking amidst the fury and bolting towards whatever he thought was an escape.

His corpse endured being split in half from a Wendigo's thrown weapon and instead was plunged into the ground, his body horribly mangled from impact and his limbs bent in the wrong angles.

Admittedly the messiest raid he's ever accomplished in his tenure.

Buldrokkas'tee didn't bother to cast the weapon back to his hand, immediately throwing his shield to the side and kneeling down to the fallen pregnant woman, scooping her until she rested on her back and keeping his hand on the back of her head. In his gentlest and kindest voice, he assured her, "It's okay, you're safe now. No one will touch you and your little one anymore."

The woman grunted, her arms and sides either cut up or scarred from numerous whippings, and her bruised face was scrunched up in great pain, grabbing her belly. "My….grrgh…child….I think...urrrgh…!"

Horror and realization crossed his mind like a bolt of lightning, his iron-like composure allowing him to address the Adams that weren't hunting down what remained of the gulag's guards. "Hey, soldiers! Bring heat and fire! And gather some snow too! Dry cloth as well! Warm! Hurry! This women is about to bring life to the world!"

"They..." The woman breathed out heavily, agonized tears flowing freely from her eyes, "...they were...they were going to..."

Buldrokkas'tee saw a wet patch on the woman's red rags covering her bulging belly, and he saw a puncture wound through the wide horizontal slit on the cloth, freely leaking blood.

There was a bloody knife on the ground, the sharp edge coated red and was dropped too close to her.

Terror fell over Buldrokkas'tee when he realized what could have happened to this poor woman if he were a minute or even a second too slow upon arriving.

They were going to rip her open. What were these soldiers' thinking? For all their cruelty, this was beyond wicked. How could they go down this low?

This was a true act of evil. How could they do this? What wicked mind would allow this inhumanity onto a woman with child?

"HEALERS! GET OVER HERE NOW!" The Mighty Patriot of Ursus trembled as he moved to cover the bleeding wound carefully. His voice shook, coated in desperation, and he was overcome with an overwhelming cascade of emotions. "Please, be strong...! You must be strong for the precious one that will soon rest in your arms! Be strong! You need to heed my words! Do as I say and we can greet the life you'll bring with song and joy! It must know the face of its mother and her love!"

The woman was shivering, her breathing was beggining to shorten. She could barely open her eyes. "I...can't...it hurts...!"

Anger. Horror. Lamentation. Relief. Worry. Joy. Panic.

All these emotions at once, Buldrokkas'tee could not maintain the famed image of strength he was known for, reducing him to the mere man he truly was.

He was back to the days with his wife, when she was with Grrovae'zzeal in her belly and she was about to give birth to him. It was the only instance in the long years of his life that he felt true fear, crippling worry and concern threatening to bring him down and take everything away from him.

"Please, do not say that." He pleaded. "You are a mighty woman. If you can bear this child for so long in the gulags with its cruel overseers, you can give birth to new life as well! Do not rest yet! Open your eyes! Please! The healers are coming. They can heal your body but only you can push. Only you can! So please, endure a little further!" He snapped his gaze to everywhere around him, roaring, "HEALERS! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!?"

A rapid tapping of feet quickly arrived to his desperate beckoning, numerous Adams in Ursus armor either bringing a large bundle of cloth in their arms or moving directly to the woman, Healing Arts emanating on their arms and mending the hole on the woman's belly.

Heat permeated off every single one of Jacob's minions, fighting back against the snow's merciless cold and warming the woman as they surrounded her without obstructing the air. They laid her over a bed of cloth, all wet from the melted snow that were gathered but just as warm.

The healers were through, moving away as they closed her wounds and cleaned her body of all whip marks and scars.

But she's not moving. She isn't waking up. She laid limp atop the Wendigo's hands.

"No...nonono...! Wake up...! Wake up!" The terror mounting even higher, Buldrokkas'tee urged her, shaking her shoulder, unsure of how hard he should do so, "Please! You cannot sleep! No! NO!"

Buldrokkas'tee urged her, each one more desperate than the last. The idle Adams looked on motionlessly, indifferent and unaffected like the hands and feet they were, merely awaiting the next command.

In spite of how much the Wendigo shook and pleaded, the woman could not wake up.

His eyes welling with his tears, he turned to the nearest Adam, "You! Do something! Anything!"

He only received a blank stare, the minion remaining still and awaiting a proper command.

"Why are you just standing there!? I said do something! Aren't you Jacob's creation!? You should know how to deal with this! You should! Or at least tell me what to do! I can do it myself! I will not fail! I swear!"

The Adam remained unmoving, ever so patient for the command to kill, completely useless in a scenario where warfare had no place to be in.

"Nooo...! NO...! HELP!"

In this very moment, the mighty Patriot cried for help.

"SOMEBODY! SOMEBODY HELP ME!"

There was no Ursus war hero anymore. No brilliant tactics. No unstoppable marches or charges. Not even the presence of Jacob. Buldrokkas'tee completely turned into just a man, completely helpless and not knowing what to do.

For this incredible show of great strength and humility, his pleas were finally heard.

The Adams snapped their gazes to a single direction, and Buldrokkas'tee followed their gazes, seeing a gulag prisoner running towards him as hurriedly as he could with his malnourished and stickly-thin body, a senior man wearing what remained of his rags in the cold snow, but his eyes and movements held the vigor of nearly 10 men.

"My savior, I heard your call!" The old man wheezed, slowing down as he reached him and the collapsed woman. As soon as he quickly caught his breath, he started, "I was a doctor before I was Infected. Tell me what's wrong, quickly."

"This woman, she's about to give birth but she's passed out. She's too exhausted and weak. I had the slaves heal her body but she still could not wake up."

The old doctor knelt down, placing his fingers on the woman's jugular while his hand caressed the belly, "A premature birth, an exhausted patient...and without any proper instruments anywhere or even a sanitary environment in an accursed place like this...oh no."

Buldrokkas'tee's horrors continue to mount. "Doctor, what's wrong?! What's happening?"

The old man turned to face him, his mouth almost hesitating to spit out his assessment. But after a regretful wave fell over his face, he swallowed it down and grimaced, "We will have to perform a C-section to save the infant."

The Wendigo fell silent, barely leeting out a single word, "...What?"

"We need to cut her open." The doctor paraphrased, the same wave of great sadness and regret crossing his features before he forced it down, "If I had a better area, with instruments a-and time, or if she was still awake, I...I wouldn't have come to this decision...but it's the only choice I have. There's nothing else I could do—"

"Do it."

"—for her but for her child..." The doctor did a double take, turning to Buldrokkas'tee in disbelief, "Wait, what?"

"In a better environment, is a C-section survivable?"

"Y-yes, but we do not have the luxury of so many essential things like a full medical team, instruments and a sanitary environment as well as so-"

"Then do it quickly! Save her child!" He paused, quickly calling over every healer in the vicinity. Then he returned to the old man, "The warriors will maintain her, keep her alive until we close her up."

"Keep her alive?" The doctor turned to these warriors, completely dressed in Ursus uniforms and bloodied from the enemies they felled or devoured, pale-faced, red-mouthed and emotionless, holding weapons dripping from fresh kills. "Could these warriors of yours actually do such a thing?"

"They were created….by my friend, he is a healer of no equal, closing wounds before they could bleed and even resurrecting even the most recently-dead. I'll be seen choking on my own blood if I dare assume that his spawns could do any less than him."

Buldrokkas'tee has learned. The same mistake won't happen again. He will trust the Chimera. He will not sacrifice another precious life before he could be forced to understand that.

The old man held the giant man before him, a brief silence before he conceded, "Then I….then I'll welcome any hope to save 2 lives if we can help it." The old man quickly picked up the bloody knife near him, turning to the soldiers nearby, "Someone prepare me a small basin of hot water. And a warm dry blanket. Quickly."

"Do as he says!" The Wendigo barked, and the Adams quickly brought the two items to the old man under no less than 5 seconds, one cradling a coffee mug full to the brim with steaming hot water in its gloved hands while another brought the coat of a dead officer, completely dry and free of blood.

"These will do." The doctor took the mug, ignoring the scalding heat that washed into his bare hands and dipped the blade into the liquid, washing the blood off and sanitizing it. Whipping the residue off, he returned to the woman, steeling himself and steadying his breath as he widened the slit on the cloth, "May the Emperor guide me..."

An incision...

"AaAAARGH!"

And the woman is suddenly woken up from the excruciating intrusion of hot metal on her flesh, throwing her upper body forwards before slumping back down. Buldrokkas'tee quickly held her still and gripped her hand, murmuring words of comfort and safety.

The healers took action as well, careful not to get near the doctor's space but staying close enough for their outstretched arms containing their master's potent healing Arts towards the new mother, dulling her pain for now and preparing to close her back up upon command.

The doctor narrated his every progress and action, detailing every layer he's reaching, the delicate parts he's avoiding, and every sight he could see while Buldrokkas'tee never turned his eyes away from the woman's face, paying attention to the slightest movements so he can assure her in every way he could.

"Okay, I can see the infant. I am going to pull it out now. Ready the cloth, my friends."

Buldrokkas'tee tensed even more than he thought he already was, practically crushing the mother's hand, only held back by his learned restraint since his wife. He never stopped speaking, relaying every bright prospects that he had enjoyed with his own child to her, swearing even on his own life that she and the child will have everything he once had.

In his peripheral vision, the pounding in his head deafening the doctor's narrations, he can see a small thing being extracted from the mother's womb and then placed atop the officer's coat, bundled warmly and gently. The other Adams moved to provide their warmth as well, making sure the winter doesn't even dare touch the little one.

Buldrokkas'tee watched as the woman's face slowly fell into a relief she nearly forgotten, almost appearing as if she was merely sleeping in spite of the gaping hole on her once-bulging belly.

"Doctor…..the child…?"

The old man moved as if he didn't hear, all of his focus magnetized to the bundle in his arms, tapping or rubbing the child's chest and back, urging for a response.

Buldrokkas'tee finally realized the blurring of his vision. He's beginning to weep, his fear forcing out a whole cascade. The fear of a lost life. The loss of a loved one.

It sent him straight back to many years before, during the day when the mighty Patriot set out into the Tundra to hunt the Chimera. The latter was completely off his guard, shaped like a man, his tail shorter than Buldrokkas'tee's height, staring at the latter's arrival in disbelief and asking a question in horror.

"Did you leave your son by himself?"

A second after, his radio roared out orders from his superiors to abandon the mission and hurry back as the war between the 5th and 6th army reached a chaotic peak on a single night now that the Patriot isn't there.

The betrayed and damaged look Jacob gave him was something that haunted his dreams for the rest of his life.

"What have you done!?"

And when he came back, he found his son dead from a list of names, his body buried in a mass grave, barely recognizable except for his horns.

"Please….." Buldrokkas'tee begged. Who he was begging to, he doesn't even know. The Sarkaz gods, the mother, the unwaking child, his old emperor's spirit, or even the formerly godlike being that was Jacob—he couldn't pick one, he only wanted to hear the child's first cries. "….please….wake up…..please…"

And then he heard it.

A cry. A small, weak cry of life. A heralding call of a joy he once heard. Now, it belongs to the mother herself. He turned to look, and he saw the baby boy make his life known to the world itself and declare his victory over the impossible odds he was set against.

"He lives….!" The doctor announced, his voice rising in hope and joy, "The child lives…..! He lives! Praise the Emperor!"

He heard roars and cries of celebration from the side, and he turned his head to see the rest of the Infected prisoners that have exited the mines hollering and hooting, throwing their arms to the air and embracing each other, tears of endless hope and joy flowing from their eyes. In spite of the misery they have endured before his arrival, they took this joy and made it their own, setting their once-dead hopes alight."

Buldrokkas'tee just realized that the snow no longer fell. He looked up to the sky and saw the clouds brightening, the sun behind them about to peek through and behold the world. Summer was coming this month, and at this exact moment, it couldn't have been a better timing than anything the Wendigo could have imagined.

"My savior." The doctor called him, bringing his attention down to the old man holding out the precious life towards him, bundled and warm, wriggling and continuing his rebellious cries against his oblivious brush against death. "Please hold him for now. It's time I attend to the mother. It's her turn to demand my full attention."

The Adams already moved to relieve the newest mother from his grasp, scooping her from his hands, untangling his grasp on her own and pushing it away.

Numb from the relief and the brightness of what's happening, he compliantly reached forward with such ginger movements, and the doctor gently placed the small bundle into his gigantic hands.

The Wendigo quickly adjusted his grip in the same way he held his baby Grrovae'zzeal, comfortable and close to his chest so he can look at his precious face as he knelt.

A ray of yellow and warmth creeped on the ground next to him. It swiftly moved to cast down on him and the boy. He moved to let the child take it all in its unrestrained glory.

The baby's cries gently fell silent and his face relaxed, falling into a peaceful and restful sleep for the very first time.

Such a tiny and fragile thing resting carelessly atop his hands, and it was able to bring a Wendigo, the Mighty Patriot of Ursus, Buldrokkas'tee, down into tears. He laughed lightly, gently bouncing the boy, "And you cannot even hold a mere knife or axe. You are the mightiest of all Terra, little one."

In this very mine where prisoners go to suffer and die, the world suddenly felt warm and kind. It was at peace, as if in commemoration of this birth.

---

"I thought you have given all that you had for us, my savior. Instead, you still have more to spare."

"Please, doctor, just call me Buldrokkas'tee. If you can't, then just call me Patriot. I'm actually the one who is saved. If it wasn't for you, then Alisa and her child...I don't know if I would have forgiven myself..."

"If you hadn't come to liberate us from our accursed bondage, I doubt we would have saved them both. And I will never forget the Hero of Ursus' strength to cry for help. That was when it all made a difference for all of us. Every single one of them as well as I would have died in that mine with them. Whether by hypothermia, weakness, starvation, or when we exhausted the mine of all resources and our usefulness before they kill all of us to hide the evidence, we would still be dead there at some point."

"..."

"And now, look at us. Look at me. Look at them. Just...look at Alisa. Ever since we were condemned to the mines, we never imagined that we could go back to the things we used to enjoy. We submitted to despair, barely clinging to the closest idea of a hope. And now behold! I see smiles. I see laughing. I see singing and dancing. I see jokes. I see Alisa and her boy being surrounded in blessing and cheers by your warriors, celebrating his baptism to an old Ursus custom that we have apparently forgotten to time."

"My friend lived during the days when it was common practice. He held it sacred, so he baptized my son the same way, and he celebrated like it was the best day of his life….is something wrong?"

"Fo-forgive me for saying this but you've been enumerating many feats this friend of yours could do and I'm starting to think you're joking. Reviving people back from the dead is one thing but to live long enough for a common tradition to be lost to time?"

"Then I will leave you in disbelief until you meet him yourself. Whether that he visits us or I bring you all to the haven he created to shelter the Infected from Ursus' tyranny, he can regale you better than my words can."

"I…see…."

"You will see."

The two fell silent, simply looking on as the festivities sang and cheered endlessly, as if the most recent events were completely nonexistent. They picked everything the guards had in their tents and fitted them all just to have this celebration in the center.

A large pot over a fire cooking a delicious stew Jacob taught him thanks to the stocks of canned foods and rations the fat officer had been keeping secret from the men under his command.

His most comfortable chair, placed close to the warmth. Alisa sat there beaming at her baby boy, asleep in her arms and basking in her love.

The prisoners managing to find a guitar and playing a merry song, accompanied by a band of young men and women singing their souls out, the rest of the prisoners danced and clapped their hands, all of their misery and pain shed away to welcome hope and joy again.

And the Adams, murderous and hateful variations of Jacob's creations, made from the bodies of dead Ursus soldiers that earned the Chimera's boiling wrath, deprived of all personality and free will except the will of their master, wreathed Alisa with a crown of flowers that had no reason to survive in a snowy environment, kissed Joy's head, pampered them both endlessly, and now they dance and celebrate with the most animated movements they could do that closely resembled their former human selves, their pale faces beginning to capture the look of bliss.

The sheer humanity of their movements entranced the prisoners to their presence, unafraid of the uniforms they wore and instead grabbing their hands to be the partner of a dance, a long and strange conversation, or even a drinking game from the bottles of vodka they hoarded.

The doctor turned to his savior, and he was caught off-guard to see the towering giant having taken off his skull helm and lowered the cloth on his mouth, revealing a senior man with short-cut black hair and a slight goatee, adorned by a haunting pair of gnarled horns that resemble the branches of dead trees. Though he had no wrinkles, his eyes gave the impression of many long years lived, not all good.

And they freely shed tears. His lips cracked the smallest smile, and yet all of his joy seemed to emanate endlessly from it.

"What's wrong, Patriot?"

The Wendigo chuckled, closing his eyes as he shook his head, "It's nothing. I just simply realized what my friend had been trying to ask of me before he departed."

"And…what sort of answer did you suddenly come upon?"

"That I was a dull and complete fool of a soldier who barely left the barracks and his commanding officer's influence. Those useless military expansions. The useless accomplishments…and those war-hungry nobles and their ambitions that are bringing the country to ruin. It's about time that I left it, and look at the people outside of it. To finally look at what was worth fighting for….what my friend saw from the start."

---

At least you now perfectly understood, Buldrokkas'tee.

If you couldn't find fulfillment, accomplishment or even joy in doing what's right and seeing the results, then I completely failed you….

….and that it was a mistake to let you live.

I sighed in content.

"Is...is something wrong, Uncle?"

I replied to the boy following behind me as we trekked through the overgrown forest. "Not really."

"Not that I complain but why are we venturing through places in the haven that I could clearly tell that nobody had ever crossed through?"

"Take a guess, Gro. Put your abilities of deduction to the test."

"Very well. We have been walking for 6 hours through forests, mountains, canyons, and rivers that had no signs of any human ever crossing them."

Mmhmm.

"The fact that Hanina isn't coming with us is a prominent factor, considering that she'd never spend even a second away from you if she could help it..."

Yes, and what does that mean?

"...we're heading towards something that would demand the highest level of secrecy, aren't we? The paths we took was not hospitable. It takes someone of our capacity to match our pace. And the fact that Hanina isn't here...means that whatever we're heading to, she either doesn't know or doesn't like it."

Nice.

I clap my hands in applause, my tail reaching behind towards him to pat his shoulder. I didn't look away as I continue walking in long steps, replying, "Very good. You're getting better at this. How did you manage to sharpen yourself? I want to know."

"It's simple, really. Common sense. One should need to be realistic and understand the flows of natural reality to understand why certain things are what they are. And my grandest clue? Hanina isn't here. That should tell you what's truly going on."

I was already smiling before he pointed out Hanina's absence. He's getting sharper and I'm very proud. "Loveliest thing I've ever heard all day, Gro. The exact same method I used till today, you're using it too. And you didn't need me to point it out for you. That makes me so happy."

Gro chuckled, likely blushing. I hear his steps hurrying until he walked beside me. I place my arm across his shoulders automatically so we matched paces. "Well, I'll consider your words an achievement for me to treasure. This is one of the fewest times I've ever heard you acknowledged me so brightly."

"For good reason." I pat his shoulder, "Tell me, Gro. Can anyone learn how to fight?"

"Yes. Absolutely." Gro's answer came quickly. "Even if one lacks a left arm or was blind, there isn't anything in the world that could stop them from overcoming their own disabilities and becoming the superior warrior. From what I've learned while living in your haven—"

"Our haven."

"Pardon me—our haven, humans are incredible creatures of endurance, adaptation and intelligence. Whatever we set our minds on, there's nothing we cannot do. So long as the mind desires it, even I could become a warrior. And the creation of mobile cities just to evade Catastrophes is just one proof among many I could think of."

Ha. This boy's been gaining a lot of wisdom while I wasn't looking. My goodness.

I pat his shoulder again and shake it heartily, smiling. "But can anyone learn inductive and deductive reasoning?"

There was a pause to allow a moment of thought.

"Nnnnno. I do not think so." He said that with quite the certainty too. "I mean, sure, anyone can learn such analyzation skills, but normal people do not try to deeply rationalize every single reason behind every aspect of their lives. Unless it was demonstrated and there was an interest in learning, no one would ever learn extensive forms of inductive and deductive reasoning."

I nodded, humming. "And now that you can do the most basic forms, what do you intend to do with such skills?"

"Uh..." He looked uncertain for a few moments before turning to me, "...nothing?"

Good. Very good.

I nodded again, "Nothing, exactly. It is merely another way for students like you to use logic in order to gain more knowledge and understanding of specific topics and subjects. Even if you graduate, it will continue to remain useful at the right time."

"...huh." That's right, Gro. It's not that complicated. It's just that using it outside the classroom isn't done enough. "Now that I think about it, isn't inductive and deductive reasoning just logic and common sense within context?"

I laughed.

My goodness, what would I ever do without this boy. He's too good!

We walked a couple dozen more kilometers, giving each other some quizzes and hypothetic murder mysteries to deduce, just to fill the silence and have a good time.

And eventually, 8 hours since leaving the residential quarters of the haven, we arrived.

"A cave at the foot of a mountain?" Gro commented in question at our current location.

"A cave at the foot of a mountain." I agreed.

A large entrance close to the ground, the mouth wide enough for my biggest shape to slip through.

I turn to face the boy, crossing my arms while keeping my face neutral. "Gro."

When he heard my tone of voice, especially with the way I'm looking at him, he quickly understands that something serious will happen, so he stands straight.

"Yes, Uncle."

"In your honest and unbiased opinion, what do you think does the outside world has that the haven doesn't?"

He turned to face the forest around us or look at the many mountains. It seems he already has the answer, he's simply making the last confirmations.

Once he's done, he turned to me, "Animals. Your haven has no wildlife. Only humans and your Adams inhabit it. No birds. No insects. Outside of the residential area, you cannot even hope to hear the calls of birds or the fluttering of insect wings—everywhere is lifeless and quiet. And the reason why is because every single year, you would increase the pressure of the haven just so our bodies become hardier than normal humans in preparation for our exodus. Every single time you welcome prisoners, you warp their anatomy just so even the youngest of them could avoid being crushed. If you brought animals here and warped their bodies to survive the haven, they would multiply and endanger the entirety of Terra's ecosystem the moment they get out. They would eat more than the average animal, they'd have little natural predators due to being stronger than them, and they would also be faster than the predators, humans included, that should hunt them down. They could even fight back, even if that predator was the biggest mangler. The prey animals would overeat the vegetation and destroy ecological environments. Predator animals will eat more than one prey and likewise cause similar destruction. The fish survived here because...obviously. They're underwater."

What he said. I would have brought all forms of wildlife here if it weren't for that. Even I feel drained from how lifeless and quiet these forests are.

I wonder who taught him this answer. Did he figure it out by himself with his deduction skills, or did Hanina teach him?

I nodded, "A different topic. Do you take care of the people who were rescued from the gulags?"

"Yes. I do." He answered quickly, and with quite the strong sincerity too. "They deserve more than what comfort I could give them. Compared to them, I met a softer demise. They had the rotten luck of not being killed on sight and instead be thrown into the frozen north, forced in gulags to mine Originium, overworked and hungry, and then get executed for no reason once they depleted it. Children are not spared from such horrors and the thought of it makes me cry every night. I cannot hope to understand the sufferings they went through but I will do anything to help them forget it and give them the dignity and humanity they deserved while you go to rescue more. What Hanina and her siblings do for them is righteous, and I see it within my moral duty to do the same when I can afford it."

I turn to look into the mouth of the cave, briefly thinking of the number of Ursus guards I've locked in there.

I returned to Gro, "From your kind labor, what do you think was the cruelest and most wicked act ever committed upon them just because they were Infected?"

I slowly watch a fury surge in the boy's red eyes, making them glow. His gaze went downwards, his body tensing while his fists clenched tightly, warping the impression of his body into something to fear. That's his Originium Arts activating on its own and its making the nearby shrubberies and branches around him lean away due to the physical pressure he's exuding as if it's constantly blowing wind.

His answer came through gritted teeth, his anger barely held down, "...ripping a pregnant mother's baby out of her womb and throwing it into the air, shooting it pieces with crossbows...! The bastards who've done it have no heart. Absolutely evil."

I lowered my head, quietly mourning the kind of cruelty Ursus was capable of instilling into its soldiers just to distract people from the corruption of their government.

Then I snap my tail against the ground. An explosive sound in this extremely quiet forest that Gro flinched from it.

"Whoa! Wh-what was that?"

"Ssh." I shushed him, keeping my gaze focused on the mouth of the cave.

I could already hear the rustling of claws and fur that's resounding inside the caverns. And very quickly, came that rapid pattering of 4 feet running towards the entrance.

I saw Gro took a back-step with a combat stance in my peripheral vision the moment a blur of movement was visible, his hands held up as if to block a blade with a shield...or to stop a pair of jaws from reaching into his throat.

And that pair of jaws came out of the cave, lumbering forward with speeds that shouldn't be possible for a size that nearly overtook the entire space of the cavern's entrance. Once it was out into the open, its bushy brown fur rippling from the momentum of its movements and stopping just before me, it stood up to a monstrous 13 feet high with a jaw-splitting yawn that showed all of its sharp teeth, groaning gutturally as it stretched all its limbs and cracked its gigantic bones.

"That..." I hear Gro's gasped words, barely able to hold up his composure, "...that's a cave mangler...! I only saw pictures and research documentations...I-I thought they were extinct...!"

"They are." I replied to him, glowering up to this giant beast. "They were gone before my 'birth' a millennia ago."

Once it stopped yawning and stretching, it slammed down its paws to the earth, shaking it. It regarded Gro briefly before it turned to me, and I glared as the humanlike fear immediately fill its black eyes the moment it recognized me.

Without a sound, showing no assertiveness that normal manglers are known for, it lowered down into a prone, chin and chest on the ground, muscular arms splayed next to its side instead of next to its head, submissive as it should be in my presence.

I lift my foot up and place it down on the thing's head, "When Hanina was young, she was berated for being too presumptuous in her ability to understand the sufferings of an Infected. The roarings she endured from the most shattered of them broke her heart and spirit completely, and she ran crying to me, despondent for several days. Her siblings brayed for the blood of whoever made their dearest sister cry. It was a spectacle that demanded my intervention...and what did Hanina do after drying her tears?"

"..." Gro gave no answer.

"She asked me to throw her into the gulags where the prisoners were rescued from."

"What?"

"And I did. She was caught Infected, cuffed on the wrists, flogged to the post, and rather than shoot her in the head when she survived the whippings, they deemed her useful in the mines and threw her there. And from there, she tasted every bit of suffering that she had dared to say to have understood when she barely even knew about the slightest sting of a whip held in the hands of a much crueler overseer."

"...And you did nothing?"

I see where Gro's mind is going, but I'm not going to try and explain the circumstances behind what happened, "Hanina was already an adult at that time. It was her decision and it's her responsibility to face the consequences of her choice."

"But...but what about the prisoners...a-and the children!? Did she...did you….surely you didn't let them die when they depleted the mine of Originium, did you!?"

I will give you a clue, Gro, and you will use your deduction abilities to answer your own question, "And the one thing that she could never forget seeing there...was a pregnant mother being dragged out into the center of the quarry, forcing every prisoner to watch as they ripped her belly open with a knife, threw the fetus into the air and shot it with crossbow bolts...all to make the others stay in line."

I increased the pressure I'm putting into the mangler's head I'm stepping on as I could already visualize the gears in Gro's head turning rapidly from what I've said, connecting them to the stories he's heard from the rescued prisoners, particularly the ones who were liberated decades ago.

"...wait...the ones who told me of that story—the ones who were liberated two decades ago...that was actually them...!?"

Shocking, isn't it?

"They would rather receive joy and warmth than pity when they decided not to mention who that mother was or whether she was one of them." I nodded. "As to how they managed to reach my haven, Hanina poisoned them with my venom. By the time they were executed out of whim or when they depleted the mines, I pulled their preserved bodies straight to the holy ground and, like you, restored them back to life, including the mother's baby back into her womb, where it grew healthily and joyfully, surrounded by loved ones in the security of a warm home."

"And the young man who was lauded to be the son of many parents, said to be born by the literal grace of god...he was that baby...!? And those many parents were actually his mother's prison mates themselves...!?"

"They vowed to protect him and love him until the end of time, never knowing the sting of a whip or the suffocating walls of a cave." I just realized that my tail has been stiffly hovering above the ground, as if preparing to whip something in half. "They found their peace, their memories of torment softened as I took the trauma for myself, seeing them as merely harmless terrors of the night, and enjoying freedom in my haven. But Hanina..."

I took my foot off the mangler's head, stepping back. The big beasty didn't dare to rise up even if I wasn't holding him down, lest it suffers something worse than what Hanina did to him.

"...Hanina was left scarred...and hateful, perhaps for the very first time since her everlasting years in my haven spent never having to hate anyone."

Gro's impression of his first crush is likely shattered. He thought of her as some kind of firm but loving teacher. He never presumed her as a victim herself, especially when she was born here.

"...and she'd never told anyone about what she did to herself...?"

I shook my head, my throat growling almost without me noticing.

"Her return from such a torturous endeavor earned her a single wish from me, and rather than ask me to light her mind of the trauma, she wanted revenge. It was the first thing I offered, but she insisted. She wanted blood."

My tail snapped against the ground once again, and I caught the cave mangler flinching.

"The one overseer...the one who ripped Lev from Oleshya..." I paused, hissing in displeasure, "To grant her wish, I abducted that bastard man, held him captive in this cave, and Hanina explored the capacity of her newfound hatred."

Let that sink in, Gro. What do you think will happen when somebody learns how to hate and gets addicted to it, especially when she had all the reasons to be?

"...no...you don't mean..."

"She tortured him." I decided to make it quick for him, "And I added the extra benefit of that fucker having the mental endurance of never collapsing to insanity from her cruelties and never dying, no matter how vengeful she gets."

Became Hanina's punching bag for the next several decades, that fucker.

"Addicted to her hatred and drowning in righteous anger, Hanina wanted to see if she could be more wicked than this organism that had the mind to rip the life out of a mother's womb with the many ways she could torment him, trying to see if she's worse than the overseers."

I paused, glaring a searing hole into the same organism, lying flat on the ground and unmoving.

"Hanina...she...she tortured him...?" I sympathize Gro's disbelief. His impression of Hanina is completely ruined.

"If that overseer was coherent, she would ask him for every justification the bastard has to be so cruel to others who were merely ill. Can you imagine the things he replied to her?"

"...no..." His reply was quite small that anyone without any enhanced hearing wouldn't be able to hear it.

And I don't think his 'no' meant he doesn't know. He doesn't want to think about what the overseer would have said, for he knows that it will only displease or anger him.

"At first, it was the typical views of hatred and prejudice shared among all Ursines, unapolegetic and spitting at her. Then his answer changed once Hanina was done with him, saying that Ursus' laws and his commanding officers fanned the flames of such prejudices. And then after the final series of torments that lasted for months..."

It was silent. So silent I can barely hear Gro breathe as he waited for me to finish speaking.

"...the overseer crumbled, no longer capable of taking another second of her tortures. His answer changed for the last time, admitting to his own faults as a wicked and stupid human being that deserved death for the things he's done, weeping for forgiveness and crying for the Emperor to take back every pain he's done to others and have them done unto him for all eternity."

I turned to face Gro properly, and the boy looks like he's about to come down into a panic attack, confused, trembling, and his eyes threatening to weep.

I held down the urge to reach forward and comfort him. He needs to face this reality of her.

"Many people have carried the mindset that Hanina is after my own heart. That she matches my compassion, my drive to be kind to others, and the complete willingness to provide everything for the ones that needed me...that is not true."

I pointed at the cave mangler on the floor.

"Revenge may be my virtue, but I have the capacity to forgive." My mouth pursed firmly, "She doesn't. She will never accept an apology and she will never forgive once she finally holds a grudge, no matter how much one would begs for it. And so, if she wasn't occupied with any of her duties or errands, she will always come here, feeding her vengeance with the overseer's torment for the last several decades."

And with these words, Gro finally fell down, collapsing on his rear and hiding his eyes with his forearms, resting the latter atop his raised knees.

I made sure to hold nothing back and state the honest, unforgiving truth. It has to be done for all our sakes. We're this close to our exodus. Better to do it now.

"That is who Hanina is, Gro, and that is what she will shamelessly be until the end of her life."

And Gro stayed like that for almost an hour, taking his time to process everything. I stayed with him, not moving anywhere apart from where I'm standing.

And the mangler remained where it lied still, properly knowing its place.

Then he raised his gaze up to me, red-eyed and his voice sounding small, "...why are you telling me all this?"

"So you will know what to expect and prepare for by the time I destroy the haven and bring her along with everyone else to the outside world." I stepped up to him and held out my hand, "The only thing she knew of Terra is the gulag and the mines, ignorant of the beauties and kindness it also holds."

He rubbed his eyes and took my hand, standing up and tall as he should be.

He looked deep in thought before he looked back up to me, realizing, "...Hanina never left the gulag, did she?"

I pursed my lips, closing my eyes while looking down, "So you do get it."

"It's her trauma, isn't it? Her mind is still haunted with the things she endured and saw there. Is that why she's so insistent in needing to spoil or care for others, and wishes for your company every single day? It's because it brings peace to her head? O-or at least holds back the horrible memories? Because she was powerless do anything at the time, bound to her duty to understand the pain?"

Rather than answer him, I reach forward and grasp his shoulder, shaking it. "So long as you are aware of where Hanina comes from and understand, that's all that matters. Whether you're right or wrong is irrelevant."

Gro held my wrist, firmly looking me in the eye. "I will not think any less of her, Uncle. Though her actions were appalling, even if justified, I will not judge her for it."

"I wasn't asking you to be considerate, Gro—"

"Exactly." He cut me off, "I don't need you to ask me to be kind to her. I decide how to feel after knowing all this, and I will not see her any differently. Because she manages to be so loving and angelic to everyone in spite of the hatred and pain in her heart."

"That doesn't mean she healed." I pointed out, "She is still damaged, and she will hate the world the moment she steps out of the haven."

"I'm not worried." Oh? "She has Yelena. She has her students. She has her siblings. She has more than enough family to help her come around and give the world a chance."

I smiled, now prouder than ever for this boy, wiser than his years. "I thought you would have only mentioned yourself."

"Puh-lease." He scoffed, spreading his arms to both sides, "One man can't move mountains, Uncle. Besides, what could I give her on my own? She needs you as well. You're the love of her life, and I'm just a silly little brother."

"Her silly little brother." I ruffled his head in-between his horns, "That's a privilege, Gro."

"I know. I love her in turn."

I hummed, now pleased.

Then I turn to the cave mangler, "As for the cruel overseer who begged for forgiveness?" I snapped my tail, making the beast open his eyes, and I gestured with my fingers for it to stand, which it did on all fours. "He did not look like this a month ago."

Gro looked at me, extremely baffled, "...what?"

"Hanina has had enough of her hatred just recently. It staled, losing the spark that made it addicting. She'd rather lavish herself in affection, warmth, and joy instead, so she condemned the overseer to his self-pity, never to come back."

"Wait! Wait, wait, wait, wait, slow down! Are you saying this mangler was the overseer himself?" He asked, pointing at the beasty. "The overseer!? He turned into this!?"

I nodded, trying not to think about his disbelief being ridiculous when he knows very well thathe haven is made out of my body, "Apparently, his idea of penance was to be a beast. Animals are not sinful or hateful creatures. They are generous and fair beings, taking only what they need and nourishing the land diligently."

I pointed at a random direction and the cave mangler obediently went there, his gigantic size lumbering silently until it disappeared in the forest undergrowth.

"With my blessings, I condemned his humanity as he wished, reducing him to his most primordial origins. And that further inspired me on how I can mete out my sentences." I snapped my tail yet again, waving my hand towards the cave, beckoning the rest of them to come out.

The sooner the pattering and shuffling of feet were heard, especially the growls and roaring, Gro immediately turned to me in bafflement once again, "There are more?"

And marching out of the cave in organized herds were numerous manglers, houndbeasts and even fangbeasts. Furs of various colors and patterns, shapes and builds of specific hunting environments, claws and tails of varying lengths—they all individually departed to every directions with growls or roars, following no lead except their own, creating new animal paths behind them and generally warping the entire forest itself just by passing through them.

"I will condemn every Ursus soldier I kill into an Adam or Eve, serving my will until a decade's passing. But for the most wicked of them, I will warp into the very thing that can never do evil, serving their sentence until every sin has been paid in full."

"B-but how? How can these...animals perform penance?"

Lovely double-meaning, yes? These former humans are now and were once animals, slaves to their base instincts and desires.

"These beasts will neither eat nor starve, neither sleep nor tire, neither hate nor love, but they will carry intelligence, compassion, and regret in return. What will be done with these virtues will be up to them. If they can serve their sentences with them, all the better."

Gro and I stood back, merely watching as the hundreds of predator animals stepped out of the cave and populated the haven, finally bringing noise and life to the forests.

For the first few weeks or months, they will likely wander around, take in the environment and their new bodies, and explore how they can go on with their new lives. Some of them might stay here until its destruction, but I know the majority of them will leave to the outside world ahead of time once they settled, becoming Pilgrims on a journey towards their penance.

Eventually, the last of the animals have finally left the cave, a second cave mangler of similarly monstrous size just like the first, lumbering but impossibly graceful as it sprinted off, barreling through every shrub and bush it collided against. 3 seconds later, I watched its bulky form in the distance knock down a tree just by brushing against it.

After a long moment of silence for the boy to calm down and process everything that just happened, he finally broke the silence.

"So..." Gro turned to face me, hands on his hips, "...you brought me here...just to show me an alternative way of bringing wildlife to the haven without any of the downsides I mentioned earlier involved? Or was it a roundabout way of you telling me about Hanina's situation? Or maybe that was just you introducing your new creations with extra steps?"

"Yes."

He choked on his words, about to laugh, and lunged at me, throwing a playful punch to my face. "I hate you...!"

I easily parried his lame strike while chuckling, grabbing the back of his neck with a free hand before throwing his momentum forward, kicking his legs while I do.

He caught himself from faceplanting the soil with a single hand. Then did 5 one-armed push-ups before rotating his body in a small angle, facing the front of his body towards me with a smug look while placing his free hand against his hip.

"Well hello there, Uncle. I didn't know you've come to revel in how your godchild maintains such a fit build." Suave delivery, my boy.

"You're in a good position to get kicked in the chest, Gro." I smiled sardonically, "You have the permit to revel in softer forms of arrogance but I strictly forbid you from bringing it to a fight. It makes you incapable of expecting dirty tricks and surprise attacks from opponents stronger or even weaker than you."

"I know, Uncle. I know." He used his free hand to scratch the back of his head, still holding himself up in his one-armed push-up. "Your beatings from last time made that very clear."

I frowned lightly, "It's harsh to call it a 'beating'. You asked for a duel to assess the level of your combat ability. I was willing to indulge you."

"Yes, but you didn't hold back." He complained, "And it wasn't a fight at all, it was a thorough thrashing! I legitimately thought I was going to die! You bent the shields in half! Aren't those things made from your wings of black bone!?And the children were watching from afar as well! You almost scared them!"

"Then phrase it properly next time, you dolt." I lightly whipped my tail against the ground, "If you wanted an assessment, you should have told me. I genuinely thought that you have grown impressively under Hanina's instruction during my absence that I thought you could match me at more than half my strongest."

He lightly blushed, looking away as he realized that I actually thought so highly of him, "That's...mighty kind of you, Uncle, but how do you easily expect others to best you? You're the creator of a small country that's moving from place to place around Terra, almost similar to a Mobile City..." Then his face darkened, coming to a second realization before he looked back up to me, "...were you expecting me to be a good fighter just because I am a Wendigo? Because of my father?"

I huffed dismissively, walking around him before I pushed him in the back, making him assume a proper push-up position. Then I put my hand on the back of his chest, putting all of my upper body weight behind it.

Rather than complain, he went with the flow and proceeded to do push-ups, nearly touching the ground with his chest before pumping up and then rinse and repeat. All of it in smooth motions too. I don't feel the slightest bit of any trembling from his arms or midsection.

I began, "I never believed in the idea that sons can become their fathers or daughters their mothers. It's simply not possible. All of my best virtues aside, I never expect my sons and daughters to be like me. I raise them to be their own persons of personalized strength and power. You were not raised to be a warrior, Gro. You like to read books, write poetry, absorb knowledge, taking care of children, watching over the well-beings of liberated prisoners, being a good brother to Yelena—in other words, you enjoy being kind. And everyone in the haven, especially me and Hanina, love you for it in return."

Gro's voice became sly, and I could hear his smirk, "In other words, the same as Hanina' siblings and the rest of the kindhearted?"

"Shut up, boy." My tail reached forward to jab him in the back of the head. He barely budged, simply snickering and already reaching his 26th pump. "But as your performance in Hanina's classes have demonstrated, you clearly have a talent for fighting. Your reflexes are above average, you intuitively know how to maneuver your body strategically, and you're very clever when you wrestle. But your instincts are more protective than aggressive, so quick to stand in front of an ally and fight their battles on their behalf rather than charge ahead to fight your own and trusting them to handle theirs as well."

He chuckled halfheartedly, "Considering my weapons, Uncle, I think such tactics suit—"

"You're developing the habit of putting the burden of everyone's battles on your own shoulders, expecting that only you have to fight and suffer because you can afford the pain." He suddenly stopped pumping. Why am I always correct? "Gro, be honest with me. Did such a mindset have something to do with what happened to you years ago?"

Gro was very still for a while, lowering his head. After a shuddering breath, he finally answered me, his voice low and regretful, "...after...after what happened...after what I've done, leading my fellows towards their deaths in a fight against two forces at once, not even considering the probability of loss...those people were my friends, fellow Infected who simply wanted to be treated like any Ursus citizen...and they're all dead... because of me." He took a deep shuddering breath again, mournfully shaking his horned head, "I will not tell others to fight and die with me. Never again. I'll fight my own battles. No longer will others have to suffer the risk of dying. I'll bear the burden for myself. It's only right."

I clicked my tongue, adding more pressure to his back.

"Gro, no matter how kind you are, never forget that people are similarly as willful as you. You cannot expect them to stand back while you fight, bearing wounds and scars every time you come back. Your loved ones won't be proud of you or congratulate you on your victories. They will cry and beg you to stop fighting for them like this. They'd pray that I'd put a strong and mighty Adam in your place. If not that, then they'll take up their weapons and fight with you or take your fights from you the same way you will do for them. Bind you prisoner so you cannot stop them if they have to. And that is all because you were so kind to them. And what happens? Good people die. The one thing you didn't want to happen."

"Are you speaking from experience, Uncle?"

If you get it then I don't need to answer your question. "Wisdom can only come from having committed so many stupid things and made stupider decisions. I'm making sure you don't succumb to your selfish stupidity."

He slowly lowered himself down to the ground before pumping back up, "...I just don't want Yelena and her siblings to fight when the ShieldGuards finally get to leave. They were just rescued from their executions, and Yelena's still suffering from her condition. I want them to enjoy life and freedom, never having to worry about their Infection or Ursus' prejudice. Don't you want that for them, Uncle?"

"I do." And no one can question that. "It's why I made this haven. Even if its time is limited, I cared more about saving others and giving them a life."

"Then why? Why let them?"

"Because I don't decide how others heal and neither should you." I put some weight on his back and he took that as a cue to start pumping up and down in rhythm, "It's easier to close wounds and resurrect the dead. But the Soul? The Heart and Mind?"

"But aren't you capable of taking away the trauma of others?" He looked at me over his shoulder as best as he could despite his skewed angle, "I've seen you. You've held a shaken man's face, gazed in his eyes as your hands glowed with Miracles and he's suddenly calmer that his words no longer slurred or stuttered. You even said you offered to take away Hanina's too."

"I said lighten, Gro." I pointed out very firmly, "I may dampen the discomfort of the memory but that doesn't mean it no longer shakes them. They will forever remember the whippings, the rippings, the executions and the suffocating air of the caverns they were imprisoned in, but they will at least have the strength to stand back up and live on with them healthily. If I take away the memory of their hardships, I also take away the strength and wisdom they nurtured from it. Hanina learned the pain of the people rescued from the mines, now she can better support them. Yelena tasted a similar hardship before her rescue, and she somehow learned during her maturity that Ursus itself isn't at fault. It was the government itself, it made Ursus hateful of us and our affliction. If I had taken away the memory of their hardships, would they still have retained these things? Would you have retained your wisdom if I wiped away the memory of what you went through?"

He held himself up from his pushups, silent for a brief moment, "….no."

"No." I moved my hand away and stood by his side, crossing my arms while he resumed pumping, "By the time you graduate with them, Gro, all of you are now adults. All of you no longer need protection like children, especially Yelena. All of you are now liable to your decisions and the consequences that come with them."

I begin noticing a bit of a drive forming in Gro's movements, "But we're still learning, yes? There's still time before that happens."

"All of you still have years to learn and grow. Me, Hanina and her family will prepare all of you for your adulthood, capable of protecting yourselves, thinking for yourselves, and being responsible for yourselves. Trust us and we can trust you to take care of yourselves when you all depart. If Yelena and her siblings still insist on being part of the warriors to depart from the haven with the ShieldGuards by then, I will let them."

"Then I'm going with her as well. To protect her and her fellows, ensure their survival." I quirked an eyebrow, testing if he's forgetting something, "But you said that my tendencies are bad."

It seems he didn't.

"They are. You wield a pair of shields yet your idea of protecting is to take the heaviest burden, expecting others to stand back while you fight their battles for them. That is not how a Defender protects. You're not the only one fighting."

"Then what can you expect me to do?"

"Be capable of trust and be worthy of other people's trust. Trust that your fellows can protect themselves and be worthy of the trust they'll put in you during a fight. Yelena is a talented Caster, she can easily wipe out the rearguard and vanguard with ease but she cannot defend herself from surprise attacks. Ivan's a good close-quarters combatant but he will be overwhelmed with numbers. Mikhail and Olaf are mighty during surprise attacks but are easily felled in a straight fight. The rest of them have their own specialties and weaknesses but as a group, they are more formidable than an Ursus squad. But one well-placed volley of crossbow bolts or mortar shelling, they are done for."

"So in other words, my role is to simply cover what they cannot, to prevent them from succumbing to their weaknesses. Defend Yelena from attackers while she casts. Draw the attention of the foot soldiers while the best shooters or fighters target the commanding officer. Draw their attention to make openings for surprise attacks or counterattacks. Or even cover the rear as we retreat."

Now I'm annoyed.

"If you already understood that then forget your useless self-imposed duty born from your regrets. It's meant to make you wise, not reduce your intelligence. Then again, you're still young so I'm not surprised."

"Rude."

"It's the truth. The young are prone to confusion and pretentious ideas, not to mention weak in the mind and not even knowing the exact depth of their decisions. And you still are, from what happened during the Great Rebellion to this new habit of yours."

He glared at me, not slowing down the pace of his push-ups before facing the ground, "…shut up. I don't need a reminder."

"At least you admit it. That's good enough. You'll do better next time and prevent others from doing the same thing. And luckily for you, being young is the stage where learning is ripe and knowledge is attractive. And you have a lot of time in your hands. You can be taught the many ways to be smarter, stronger and more mature than you are now."

"Like what, Uncle?"

"The first: you need to learn how to box, Gro." Once I counted his 100th pump, I grabbed the cloth of his coat with both hands, stopping his movements at that exact number and threw him back up to his feet. I patted the dust off his front as I continued, "No matter the weapon or the shield, you will be reduced to your bare hands someday and you need to be able to survive it when that happens. Wrestling can only get you so far."

"Hmm...yes." Gro fell into thought while he clapped his hands of the dirt before dusting his sleeves. Just as I got the last of the dust patches out of his clothes, he turned to me, a hint of excitement visible in his red eyes, "Since we're here, can you teach me now?"

I smiled, patting his shoulder in pride. "Then your appointment will be at this location every Saturday afternoon. Remember, jog, not run. An Adam will lead you if you forget the way here. Dismissal hours will be every Sunday Afternoon. You can practice in your own time during your weekdays. Now, let's begin lesson one." I stepped into the wide open space close to the mouth of the cave and put up my stance. "Follow my forms and do as I say."

"Yes, yes. I know. Just like always." He removed his long coat, revealing his lean and pale build that would not be obvious under it, and folded it into a square before placing it atop a round boulder. After that, he stepped up to my side a few paces away, mimicking my stance with some minor flaws like his elbow and leg angles. Common mistakes. "Ready when you are, Uncle."

He's remarkably not sweaty despite the hundred push-ups with my body weight on his back on the majority of them. And we trekked all the way over here for more than half a day beforehand.

"And Gro, before we begin," I lowered my stance and turned to face him, "I want you to remember one thing."

He lowered his stance and faced me as well. "What is it?"

"Hanina will not be angry if you bring up the topic of her endeavors in the gulag. She will gladly answer any questions you'll have about it within reason. But if you still cannot bring yourself to discuss with her what happened to you during the Great Rebellion, Hanina will not entertain your prattle. Understand?"

The bitter and dour look immediately crossed his features, his brow furrowing deeply as he shook his head, as if the mere memory is causing headaches. He held his forehead then wiped his face roughly before facing me, "Understood."

"Good." Then I quickly returned to my stance. "Now let's begin! Warmup! Shoulders!"