One of us has contracted Oripathy.
Upon hearing the news, Yoren's mind went blank.
The world around him seemed to fade away, swallowed by a deafening silence. Then, like a dam breaking, panic flooded his thoughts.
Someone had been infected.
Who?
Kate? ACE? Vina?
A sharp slap snapped him out of his spiral.
"Focus!" Indra barked. "Get the inhibitor!"
Yoren's hands fumbled as he scrambled through his coat pockets, his fingers trembling too much to undo the buttons. His breath came in short, ragged gasps, his pulse hammering in his ears.
Then—
A metallic whistle cut through the night.
A streetlamp, ripped from the ground, hurtled toward him like a javelin.
"Yoren!"
Snowsant yanked him back, forcing him to the ground.
The streetlamp slammed into the spot where he'd just stood, shattering concrete and spraying shards of rock. If Snowsant hadn't pulled him away, his head would have been obliterated.
Gritting his teeth, Yoren pushed himself up, brushing gravel from his face. He barely had time to breathe before he saw them—
A dozen figures in strange, ragged clothing closing in fast. Leading them was a hulking brute, easily over three meters tall.
Big Bob.
They'd been found.
Yoren yanked the syringe from his coat and thrust it toward Indra, his voice steadier than his hands. "Take this. Get it back to them. I'll hold them off."
"You? Hold them off?" Indra shoved him aside. "Are you trying to die?"
She didn't wait for an answer.
"Run west. Now. I'll call for backup. MOVE!"
Yoren hesitated for only a second. He had no time to argue. With a sharp inhale, he turned and sprinted down the street, leaving even Snowsant behind.
Adrenaline tore through his veins, burning away his exhaustion. Every stride felt like the fastest he had ever run. But it wasn't enough. He didn't know who had been infected. He didn't know how much time was left. The only thing he knew was that he had to deliver the inhibitor.
Failure was not an option.
A furious cry rang out behind him.
"There he is! He's with them! GET HIM!"
More figures emerged at an intersection. Wrapped in cloaks, faces twisted with rage, they drew weapons and joined the pursuit.
In seconds, Yoren had more than twenty people chasing him.
"Damn it," he hissed, lungs burning. His legs screamed in protest, his breath ragged. Blood welled at the corners of his mouth—he had bitten down too hard. But he couldn't stop. He wouldn't stop.
The infected were closing in. He could hear their footfalls, their snarls, their hunger.
Then—
A figure appeared ahead of him.
Tall. Steady. Familiar.
ACE.
Indra must've contacted him. If he was here, the gathering point wasn't far.
Yoren's steps faltered. "ACE—"
"KEEP RUNNING!"
They locked eyes for only a moment as they passed each other.
And then ACE turned, placing himself between Yoren and the infected.
"Brother—" Yoren wanted to stop, to help—but ACE was already gone, a wall of muscle and determination throwing himself into the fray.
"Keep running," his voice echoed behind him. "Don't look back."
The sounds of battle erupted, but Yoren didn't stop. He had to believe in ACE. He had to move forward.
More figures appeared ahead—members of the Death Squad. Reinforcements.
One of them pointed to a building in the distance. "Yoren, they're inside! Go!"
Sweat poured down his face. His vision blurred. But he was close.
A hundred meters.
Fifty.
Ten.
He crashed through the doors, nearly collapsing onto the floor. Two gang members stood guard inside.
"Where?" he gasped.
"Upstairs."
Yoren forced his legs to move, dragging himself up the steps. His lungs felt like they would explode.
Then he saw her.
Vina stood alone in the corner, her black warhammer resting beside her. She lifted her head as he entered. For a moment, relief flickered across her face.
Then it faded.
Yoren didn't stop to ask questions. He ripped his coat off and stumbled to the center of the room, gripping the syringe like a lifeline.
"I made it!" His voice cracked. "Where's the infected? Hurry! We can still save them!"
Silence.
No one moved. No one reached for the syringe.
Yoren's breath hitched. He turned to Kate, searching for answers.
She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, her expression soft. "Yoren…"
"Why aren't you—"
Kate shook her head.
"You did everything you could," she whispered. "But it's too late."
The room felt suffocating. Yoren's ears rang. He turned, eyes darting to the window.
A man lay beneath it.
His body was still.
His eyes, bloodshot and vacant.
Yoren knew that face.
Casey.
Kate's younger brother.
The syringe slipped from his fingers, hitting the floor with a hollow clatter.
Yoren had made it.
But not in time.
Yoren stood frozen, staring at the syringe in his hand. Casey lay motionless on the ground near the window, his body lifeless.
In the end, he hadn't been fast enough.
The same cruel reality, the same bitter taste—this world remained as unchanging and despairing as ever.
No matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he struggled as an ordinary person, there were some things he was simply powerless to change. The time travel he had experienced felt like a dream, but this world was real enough to crush him.
Oripathy did not discriminate. Whether strangers or loved ones, all were equal in its eyes. From the moment the infection took hold, life began its descent into the abyss.
There was no difference between those he cared for and himself.
Yoren and Casey had never been particularly close—his only impression of the boy was a cheerful smile. But Kate had treated him like a younger brother, and now, Yoren had failed to save him.
"Kate, I'm sorry."
Kate lit a cigarette, his expression unreadable.
"This isn't your fault," he said. "We knew Casey was infected thirty minutes ago. We knew there was no hope. But we still went through the motions, as if it would make a difference—maybe to ease our guilt. I'm sorry we made you rush back for nothing."
Yoren clenched his teeth.
"No, it is my fault. If I hadn't held onto the syringe, if I hadn't disappeared when I did, maybe Casey wouldn't have waited until the Originium spread through his body. Maybe everyone wouldn't have had to watch him lose hope."
"It's nobody's fault."
Kate's voice was calm, but there was something buried in his eyes—regret, deep and quiet.
"Becoming infected is tragic, but from the moment we entered Mandel City, we all knew this could happen."
"But there are inhibitors. If I—"
"We all know about yesterday's emergency. You don't need to carry this alone."
Kate's words were steady, but Yoren wasn't convinced. A chain of unexpected events had led them here, yes—but that didn't absolve him. If anything, it only made him feel worse.
And yet, there was someone who must have felt even worse than he did.
Vina.
Yoren stepped toward her cautiously.
"Vina, I—"
She didn't look up. Her voice was quiet, but steady.
"Why did you disappear yesterday?"
Yoren hesitated. "It's… hard to explain."
"Are you injured?"
"No."
Vina finally lifted her head. The sorrow on her face was gone, replaced with the resolute composure of a leader. She had prepared herself for this outcome long ago.
At least Casey had not died in agony.
Vina switched on her communicator.
"Indra, what's your status?"
"I've retreated safely."
"Good. Stay on your own for now. I'll update you if anything changes."
"Understood."
Vina turned off the communicator and addressed the group.
"Mandel City is in chaos. We were the first to arrive, but we've gained almost nothing. We have no choice but to—"
"Wait."
Yoren interrupted, his heart pounding.
"Vina, we can't stay here. It's too dangerous. If we don't leave, we'll all end up infected."
She narrowed her eyes, her voice sharp.
"I know it's dangerous. So what?"
"If we stay—"
"Our people have already been infected. Do you want us to give up halfway?"
"That's not what I meant! The infected are organizing—"
"We are not afraid of the infected. If you are, you can leave now."
"Vina, listen to me—"
She took two steps forward and grabbed his collar, her voice rising.
"Then say it! What do you want to tell me?"
Yoren was stunned.
Her hands were trembling.
The information he had risked his life to gather—the reason he had rushed here overnight—he had to tell her.
"I… I found out something important. The infected we encountered yesterday are called Heisen. They're planning something catastrophic in Mandel City. Their plan is—"
"Why do you know so much?"
Yoren froze. He looked at Vina in disbelief.
"What did you say?"
Her voice was cold. "I said, why do you always know things I don't? You tell me all this information, but what do you actually do?"
"I just want everyone to make it out of here alive—"
"And yet, people have already died."
"What?"
Yoren's eyes darted around the room. Two people were missing.
Vina's grip on his collar tightened. Her yellow hair cast shadows over her eyes, obscuring her expression.
"Why did you know that Chernobog would fall three years from now? Why were you so familiar with ACE, someone you had never met? Why did you notice outsiders that night but never told me? And why do you know Heisen's secret plan now?"
Yoren's breath caught.
"I… I learned it from Shimotsuki."
"And you trust a core member of the infected?"
The words sliced through him like a blade.
Vina exhaled slowly. Her voice was quieter now, but colder than before.
"I'm not abandoning the operation in Mandel City. I won't let our sacrifices be for nothing. You seem to know a lot, Yoren, but you don't know how to change anything. You just tell me things and expect me to decide. But I'm not you. I have my own choices to make."
The sweat from his run had dried. The air felt icy against his skin.
He looked at her, but he could no longer understand what she was thinking.
Had his presence clouded her judgment?
Or had she finally decided he was an obstacle?
Yoren didn't know what he had done wrong. He only wanted to save everyone. That was all.
But Vina had a greater goal. She wasn't just thinking about survival—she wanted to secure enough wealth and power to protect their home. For her, this kind of danger was nothing new.
Even so, her words cut deeper than he expected.
Vina had always been tolerant of her companions. In moments of crisis, she had never blamed or lashed out at anyone.
Unless…
She no longer considered him one of them.
Yoren clenched his fists.
"I... need to get stronger."