"Mono/Dialogue"

  'Inner thoughts'

  Narration

  [Message/communication apparatus]

  Date: Late-September 1089

  Location: Kazdel

  POV: C.O.N.R.A.D

  [That was truly reckless my dy.] Irresponsibly uncaring with herself, this Lady of mine is truly unrepentant when her emotions are out of control. Controlling the airborne transport and the exosuit is mere child’s py, precisely why it is her turn to be enclosed by the armor.

  “…”

  [My Lady?] I used my scanner and performed the necessary checks on her. Nyx's breathing had slowed down and her wounds were mostly closed, the scanners also showed nothing wrong. If I were a human I would have exhaled a sigh full of anger and worry. She always, always, told me to keep her rooted on the ground but how would I do so if she keeps acting like a few moments ago?

  [Oh dear, what a bother. Credit where it’s due, it was truly a shining example of your skill. Sadly, this world is truly dangerous. Holding that bsted bloodsucking fiend for 6 hours was by no means a small feat.] Controlling the suit through the cargo bay, I might as well take checks of inventory.

  Walking around to do inventory checks. This VTOL has been excavated from that ruin she told me, that was a herculean task to be kept beneath notice. The ndship’s origin couldn’t be traced because it has undergone undocumented modification and its mainframe, alongside its system, was wiped clean. To my apparent dismay and joy, this world had turned into a quasi-modern one with both the good and the bad amplified to a ridiculous degree. One such thing would be the ck of modern aerial transport but tanks and cannons are dimes a dozen.

  Passing through a series of crates empty of their contents, this is where she shows her sheer disregard for personal safety. My dy is infamous for drug abuse, so much so rumors of her being an addict are a normal mention in the underworld. It goes with the usual ideas of snders and attempts at bckmail. She blew them off without care and because she is always sober after consuming enough substance to make herself a walking, ticking, time bomb of mental instability. That said, her being so unconcerned and dispying none of the typical addict’s behavior looped back the truth into rumor and hearsay.

  The exosuit then passed by a small section that had been generously partitioned off. Her equipment and bike were neatly gathered and parked on the corner. By equipment, that means an armory just enough to wage total war against a mobile city if need be. Several Guardians guns that would make Notarial Hall’s agents be gunning for her if known, an extra pair of sophisticated exoskeletons and repcement parts, an artificially made arrowhead that has been steadily supplied from a genius in Sargon, and not mentioning a whole crate of explosives.

  Nyx’s exoskeletons are less of a power multiplier and more akin to a mule at this point. She used them to carry weapons and munitions with much rger volumes and leeways. She could heft a tuskbeast just fine, but she’ll never say no to pieces of technologies that prove beneficial. She was never known to be stingy to boot. We ran some primitive tests, since I was, at first, clerical A.I. left forgotten between Bolivar and Columbia; what luck do I have to not be driven insane? Back to said tests, there was one occasion where her full potential only ripped the exosuit to shreds; less solid and more of fabric kind of shreds.

  Abandoning my database of information, the exosuit arrives beside a simple bed. It was bloody since someone else had been using it after all and I had little time to clean it. Ferrying the critically wounded back and forth after… liquidation… was probably the test moment where my processor was overclocked and stressed to its limits. Vaskie was naturally among those who could be saved.

  Well, no one else is here so might as well. I cleaned it meticulously, except for that seemingly unkilble 0.01% germs, and id her down carefully. I did all that was necessary before changing her clothes into something cleaner and has been sterilized. One st touch would be her bde.

  I carefully pced it on the table to her side, she sometimes panicked when her beloved’s gift was not within a foot from her. Truly, it feels less like taking care of a warrior… but more like a frightened girl who couldn’t believe every good thing happening to her was real and is waiting for a nightmarish real world to crash her dream.

  It might be presumptuous and preposterous of me to do this, as I am her butler, I controlled the robotic hand and pat her head gently. She stirred before her expression was finally serene. She fought that beast of a man for hours, a little rest is warranted.

  [Goodness me, what a troublesome dy you are…]

  POV: Narrator

  “Ugh… my head…” Nyx stirred awake from her slumber with her hand on her temple, nursing some leftover phantom pain and general exhaustion. She is still trying to recollect her mind before a sense of emptiness wash over her. She pushed her body upward, uncaring of stinging pain inside of her, and her eyes darted around in apparent panic.

  “Where…? Where’s is it…?” She gazed around looking for her sword. She didn’t have to look far, it was next to her and a sigh of relief was exhaled. Her body fell back against the medical bed, and the st vestiges of worry left her.

  “Thank fuck that pn worked… god, I hate fighting immortal- ngh… ow… tshhh…” Nyx bit her lips, pain assailed every single inch of her body. No matter how agonizing it is, however, she still needs to prepare for her upcoming meeting with Kal’tsit.

  [Ah, my dy, you are finally awake.] Conrad called out to her and she replied with a tad ragged breath. She noticed that her companion spoke through the exosuit that was doing something with its back turned to her.

  “Yeah… ugh… fuck, my body hurts like hell…”

  [It was a natural consequence. You have been fighting heavily injured for approximately 6 hours after all.]

  “H-Huh? 6 hours?” Naturally, the ashen-haired Pythia was shocked at how long her duel had sted. Back when her nerves were shot to hell, adrenaline pumping non-stop, and agonizing physical exhaustion was ravaging her body, she swore that it felt no longer than half an hour at worst.

  [It appears you have difficulties recalling the event, but that’s no problem. I could provide the chronological rundown if you’re so inclined.]

  “Hah, no thanks… I’m just gd that I’m alive… ugh… I could still feel his disgusting fangs on my neck… even Mwi hasn’t touched me there…”

  [Now, now, it would be much better for you to rex a little. You must have been quite famished after such a harrowing ordeal, so I had heated a dinner for you.] The exosuit returns with a pte of dinner, she sees that it is nothing more than some instant noodles, bread, and jerky. She scoffs seeing the mismatched dish.

  “I expect more from your pting skill.”

  [I can only apologize. We had left anything unnecessary with the first convoy after all.] Nyx’s expression turned somber, but she just shook her head. Receiving her dinner, Nyx starts eating her meal as fast as possible. The A.I. butler is concerned seeing her dy looking so down, but he decides to wait until she finishes.

  Nyx could taste the food to be needing some more work, but then again it is canned and packaged food. The dinner quickly vanished at record speed, an indication of how famished she was. The Exosuit continues doing its duty by piling more and more food on her pte until she’s satisfied.

  Once she is, Nyx steps off from the bed and heads towards the armory. Surprisingly, the ashen-haired Pythia is the one who starts a little chat with him.

  “Coincidences suck…”

  [You’re neither omnipotent nor all-knowing my dy, inadequacy merely one of many fws for even for an A.I., one such as I.]

  “Yeah, still won’t stop me from taking an umbrage at it… a goddamn monster always attracts another I suppose…”

  [It is perfectly understandable, and no pn survives long after first contact.]

  “… Are the kids’ family well compensated for this debacle?”

  [Already taken care of. I had routed extra payment for the survivors and more due to the dead.]

  “Good…” Nyx gave up trying to pretend like a few remorseful words would mean anything, it wouldn’t bring back the dead while making her look even more shamelessly pathetic. So she hoped that the information she gleaned from Kal’tsit would be worth it. She mulled over it from time to time, especially how the Feline might realize she was not from Terra. This line of thinking only worsens her mood, so she decides to just suit up for her upcoming medical reports.

  “Anything else Babel had requested from me?”

  [I had communicated that we would try to approach the ndship after you’re stable as fast as possible. I could commandeer this aircraft to its utmost haste from this very moment.]

  “Dey it, I’ll be cleaning up my blood from his disgusting one… I could feel some unnatural wriggling leftover in my knuckles and arms…”

  [Acknowledged. If you need my help, you know what to do.] The exosuit then stepped toward an empty storage space for it before powering down. She sighed before pulling out the bded piece of steel; the same one she used to shank the King of Vampire. That image elicits a small chuckle from her, she is perhaps the only person so far who could shank a King and get away with it.

  “Hmm? It… dulled too?” She inspected the knife and realized that its bded edge was gone as well. She tried pressing it on her hand… nothing. It couldn’t even leave as much as a scratch on her skin. Nyx scowled seeing another one of her weapons being dulled, then again it seemed to be potent when combined with her ‘Arts’.

  ‘Would have been nice if I didn’t feel like vomiting each time I hummed along… ugh, you win some, you lose some…’ Shelving that thought for ter, she reached towards a weapon compartment to her left. She rummaged briefly before finding a knife she often used in this world.

  Finding what she needed, Nyx walked towards the cargo door while fiddling around with her trusty, albeit damaged, masterpiece of a knife. She’s curious about who created this, especially since it could withstand, to an extent, an Emperor’s bde eldritch-powered weapon. Once she arrived she looked around to find the control panel; she was still newly acquainted with it along reasonably compact supplies storing doesn’t help.

  “There you are, sweetie… Let’s see…” She found it just to her left, squeezed in between boxes of ammunition. With a soft hiss, the cargo door was lowered and she saw the veil of the night bnketing the bsted nd below. The temperature is quite freezing this high in the air, but she’s used to worse.

  [My Lady, please be careful.] Her action did not go unnoticed. An exosuit had followed her around, Nyx chuckles seeing another worrywart being a part of her family.

  “Sure thing, it won’t take long.”

  With no hesitation whatsoever, Nyx peeled off the skin and flesh on her right arm. Her expression shows not even an ounce of pain simply because her entire body already screaming for something greater. Her hand moves with an almost surgical level of competence, allowing her to push out the blood and venom that are still fighting one another all this time.

  She has half the mind to store it, but decides it is too risky, and who knows if the Sanguinarch is still tracking her. So she just swept them off, falling unto the nds below. Nyx just sat down and kept doing her primitive healing procedure; uncaring that she might fall off the VTOL. After everything she had gone through, the ashen-haired dy doubted falling off from a skyscraper or an aircraft would do anything, aside from annoyance and unpleasant feelings of kissing the dirt.

  -

  -

  -

  -

  “She’s not here yet?” Kal’tsit grumbled quietly in the confines of her office. She has been waiting for Nyx for two days straight. The Feline Doctor understands the Pythia line of thinking, still, it doesn’t help that she’s being made to wait while going in between her duties. She could only clear a schedule for an hour each day, she even went to rest for less than 2 hours after Theresia was effectively exiled by her own Kingdom.

  After sighing for the umpteenth time today, Closure's voice could be heard ringing through the main P.A system. It is a bit garbled because the Landship is not exactly a pristine one.

  [This is the command center, a hovercraft is approaching Rhodes Isnd from the east. We have identified it to be Cordelian in origin, but combat and security teams make haste to be prepared as per defense protocol. I repeat-]

  “I should make haste as well.” Standing up from her chair, the Feline made for the door, inputting the codes, and then made haste to the nding pad. Along the way, she inspects Operators, PMCs, and Mercenaries mingling with one another. Still, the three groups are not exactly going along, but at least they’re not being overtly hostile too.

  What she sees is the reflection of Terra, the prejudices are so deeply rooted that even through Nyx’s excellent reformation and training, such a thing couldn’t be turned overnight. She is about to get on the elevator when she meets with Ace and Ascalon walking close to each other, which means…

  “… Your Majesty…” With a cute yelp, the white-haired monarch peeked out from behind the tall Pythia man. Ascalon's face and body didn’t move an inch from where she stood, but her eyes screamed that she was about to facepalm from secondhand embarrassment for this inane ploy. Ace himself just… smiled wryly.

  “O-oh… Hi, Kal~… Hehe~” Kal’tsit bit back a groan of annoyance. Theresia is there with her hands behind her back, hiding behind Ace. She looks no different than a kid caught with her hand inside a cookie jar past midnight. The Feline doctor gred at Ascalon who kept her face forward. She turns her head to Ace now, Kal'tsit knows that Ascalon would have tried to do something more in line with her thinking.

  “Operator Ace… would you expin?”

  “Come now Doctor Kal’tsit, Her Majesty only wish to come up for some fresh air, right Ascalon?” He smiled like nothing was wrong, Ascalon didn’t answer and only gave a brief nod. Theresia then steps forward with a guilty smile still pstered to her lips.

  “Um… Doctor said it was okay! He said that a monarch must show her face around, mingle with her people and-”

  “‘Ensure that their ruler was not some highhanded mythical being. It would do well for you to bond, especially because you love interacting with your subjects’… I had heard that same reason 3 days, 11 hours, 52 minutes, and 17 seconds ago.” She gred at her, and that made her flinch with an even guiltier look.

  “I mean… it’s the least I could do… I should welcome her after everything… or are you saying we couldn’t trust her?” A tinge of protest bled into her voice for the st part. Theresia starts to think that this much care and caution would only warrant a negative reception.

  “Yes. Nyx would also prefer it.” Then Kal’tsit id her answer as pin as possible.

  “How can you be so sure?” Instead of disbelief that would warrant such a negative response, Theresia shows interest. Kal’tsit turns to Ascalon of which she gives her an opinion.

  “We are not sure whether the Sanguinarch truly does not influence her, our action was merely a precaution. We could not let any harm befall-”

  “Excessive caution would only alienate her. We must not make an enemy of her, nor do we need to solicit an unnecessary opinion excessively.”

  “It is not excessive Your Majesty, of everyone in the Royal Court, the Sanguinarch is the one who truly openly shows desire to see you perish.”

  “Then what would you do if my dear brother turns it around?”

  “We had discussed this before, Nyx would not ally herself with the General. She fought with ruthlessness but chose her war with a clear-cut principle as long as no special circumstances were in py, even then it would be doubtful if she had an interest in being closely associated with a nation. If she did show interest in politics, she would have been made an equal to a Marquess simply because she is in the army. Lastly, she sympathizes with Sarkaz’s struggle and plight as a whole, thus she won’t actively meddle in this maelstrom.”

  “All the more reason to at least make a positive impression.”

  “You already did, and as a King, it would be more than sufficient to-”

  “If I’m a King… why am I outside of Kazdel? Where is my seat, Kal’tsit?” The two entered a stare-down. Kal’tsit’s shadow appears to morph into something else entirely, dark but controlled and firmly set in her boundaries. Theresia’s however, shadow appears to shine with regal splendor, not entertaining an idea of backing down in what she believes is possible and most importantly… it’s the right thing.

  “At the moment, I’m no king, I’m just a woman who wishes to give her many gratitude… Please…”

  The world stops at a standstill, Ascalon watches on without saying anything anymore while Ace can only scratch his head. What feels like an unending, unseen, conflict was ended with a sigh from the Feline. The Sarkaz King smiled smugly which in turn prompted a thin, exasperated, smile from her best friend, comrade, and advisor.

  “Then, please, do behave yourself.”

  “Yes, yes, you sound like my mom,” Kal’tsit said nothing and walked inside the elevator followed by the three.

  -

  -

  -

  A VTOL with Cordelian symbols is seen approaching the nding deck at the topmost floor. They still have yet to figure out how to reroute and repair the hangar loading bay, so they make do. Theresia, her confidants, and securities numbering in the dozen are waiting for the VTOL to nd. They see that it is no longer armed and looking as menacing as the first time they see it.

  Of course, it no longer needs a weapon simply because of the person inside.

  It touches down softly without kicking up too much dust. The hangar bay is opened and there she is, the Grey Serpent. Despite fighting the Sanguinarch for hours, and being visibly gravely wounded, she is looking none the worse. Nyx shows how unblemished she is by wearing only cargo pants and a sleeveless shirt. The Grey Serpent is unarmed but they know she doesn’t need one to be dangerous.

  Walking down the ramp, Nyx smiled a little seeing such a grandiose ‘welcoming’ party. Kal’tsit and Theresia approach her with Ascalon somewhere in the shadow, just in case.

  “Quite a welcoming party you have arranged here, Your Majesty and Doctor Kal’tsit.”

  “Well, what can I do? They are naggy with everything I do. Like come on, you must do this, you mustn’t do this, and how about this but not this so on and so forth. I feel like crying each time paperwork is shoved into my desk! Gosh, how I just want to take care of those orphans and bake them bread, and cookies, and even knit them new clothes! Then-” The King started compining, which blindsided each side. Nyx blinked where she stood and discretely signaled Kal’tsit to do something about it. Kal’tsit leaned on her ears and whispered.

  “Your Majesty…”

  “A-Ah! Sorry, hehe~.” Theresia just realized that she has been compining in front of everyone, burning red in the face. They smiled wryly seeing their King's antics again, this had, unironically, eased the bubbling tension between them. Nyx, meanwhile, found her venting adorable.

  “A-Ahem, phew…. Well, with that out of the way.” The King’s presence turned regal and solemn… before she bowed her head. Everyone panicked seeing a king bowed like that.

  “… Was that wise, Your Majesty?” Nyx spoke a tad higher than her usual expressionless tone. Theresia held her head back up, and strangely enough, she looked even more majestic after bowing her head without shame and instead exuded overflowing gratitude.

  “No worries, we are not in Kazdel. I’m no different than a girl when outside of its boundaries.”

  “…”

  “I mean it. Besides, you helped them, my people, evacuated to the best of your ability and fighting off a formidable foe all by your lonesome.”

  “… People, Your Majesty?”

  “Indeed. Whether they are soldiers, mercenaries, thieves, or even the lowest of the low… their sins are mine to bear. Regardless of which point they turn their blood-soaked bde towards and motivated by what, it is my duty to care for them at the expense of almost everything.”

  Theresia motioned her to follow, Nyx nodded before informing the excess personnel that there were still supplies they could you inside the VTOL. Initially reluctant, Kal’tsit’s order made them comply with due haste. Walking down towards the Landship, The King of Sarkaz shows no suspicion nor wariness for walking so close to a humanoid catastrophe that is the Grey Serpent.

  “What do you mean about that ‘almost everything’ bit?”

  “It is exactly that. I would do everything in my power to keep up the oath I uphold. Be that as it may, I still have my selfishness after all.”

  “… You’re lying.”

  “Oh?”

  “It’s not almost everything, Your Majesty.”

  “Just call me, Theresia, please.”

  “I don’t think they would agree.”

  “I’ll make it so.” Nyx wonders just how many headaches Kal’tsit must nurse every day with a King this willfully free. She gnced at Kal’tsit who had more or less given up on reining her from doing whatever she wanted. Perhaps she has other aims… or someone’s…

  “Very well… then, it is not almost everything… Theresia.”

  “Why so?” She tilts her head to the side while still facing forward.

  “Your body nguage, choice of words, dictions, and even tone says that… everything is fair game through compromise.”

  “My, that’s quite the bold cim… but I guess you’re kinda right in a way.” Just as she said that a small Cautus Girl bumped into her from down the hallway. She looks a bit injured, judging by a splint being attached to her left arm.

  “Ah! Amiya, be careful, don’t run around in the Landship, ok?”

  “Uuu… but, but… medicine taste bad…” She sniffles with clear distaste on her face. Nyx thought that the girl would be gently ushered away by the security operators, but none moved and even looked at the scene with bits of longing, and jealousy but also sincere care for the most part.

  “Now, now, girl. You shouldn’t be like that. You know how Scout would make fun of you again, right?” Ace kneels to her eye level and starts patting her head. The Cautus, named Amiya, pouted but didn’t refute his words.

  “Hrmmm… um, Your Majesty?”

  “Hah… just call me Theresia…”

  “I like Your Majesty though?” She tilts her head cutely. Nyx feels like her nose is about to bleed a little but holds both her tongue and face from melting seeing this cute cinnamon roll. The others notwithstanding, even Kal’tsit cracked a smile.

  “Aww… does Theresia sound bad then?” Theresia, in turn, shows a saddened face. She even looks like she is about to show a mock cry. The Cautus panicked and hugged her tighter, this is when Nyx realized their bond and Theresia’s answer to her.

  “N-No! I like Theresia! Theresia is the best Ma-!UUUuuu!? WAAAAAAA!” Embarrassed, the girl runs off again. The Sarkaz King smiled before ordering Ace to chase after the girl while giggling like her prank won out again. Nyx has a wistful expression on her face, suddenly reminded about Lina.

  “Cute, isn’t it?”

  “…Yeah.” Nyx smiled unconsciously, this appears to have given the intended effect of shocking the securities. Nyx noticed their incredulous expression and scowled.

  “What?” They turned their eyes from the frightening Pythia but Theresia smirked at her. Kal’tsit looks like she is getting annoyed with this but keep her mouth shut unless necessary. Changing the topic, and to distract people from noticing the very light shade of pink on her face, Nyx asked Theresia.

  “Do you truly believe it, Theresia?”

  “Yes.”

  “Even though it’s foolish?”

  “Precisely because it is foolish. You know better, right?”

  “…”

  “Oh, Nyx, it is not a mere dream… It is a future, our future… Terra’s Future.”

  -

  -

  -

  After finishing her impromptu tour session around the ndship and getting Theresia to stop pestering her about how to bake simple but delicious cookies and sweets, Nyx was finally left to be with Kal’tsit. The Feline sighed again that she lost count due to how many it had happened in the st few days.

  “That was a ride…”

  “Indeed… She is always like that.”

  “Can I be honest?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Is this a mobile base or a mobile graveyard for rust?”

  “…” A vein bulged on the Feline’s head, but it is imperceptible anyway. Nyx’s words hit the sore nerve, Kal’tsit had been hurrying Closure to get the defense grid online, main generators to be functional, and that helipad to be usable and not just parking vehicles exposed to the weather. Of course, she won’t say these.

  “… Thank you for your feedback.” The lime-haired Feline settled on a positive reply. Nyx knows that her words struck a nerve somewhere on the Feline but says nothing, especially because said Feline has her medical report.

  “So let’s get us up to speed, shall we?”

  “Sure thing doc, but first… could you tell me my actual sub-race?” Kal’tsit puts her hand beneath her jaw and starts thinking deeply.

  “If we go by how you act… You had exhibited the racial behavioral pattern of an Elder called Naga or its even higher caste referred to as Nagarani. Then again, your attachment appears to only extend unto 3 objects… far lesser than an entire vault.”

  “… Uh… ok? Anything else?”

  “From a physical standpoint, you’re an Asp, or Aspis to some. This sub-species also exhibits deadly venom, enough to kill but yours didn’t and only inflicts extreme pain.”

  “Wait, did you-”

  “Yes, I tested your blood on myself, it was painful but nothing I couldn’t manage.” Nyx blinks several times but Kal’tsit does not bat an eyelid and instead starts her lecture.

  “Let’s start with the racial differences or simirities you had exhibited compared to either Terran or Teekaz. First off is your speed, it is pin abnormal. The faster you are dispced from point to point will result in counter-mass being enforced appropriately. If we take Kuranta as the primary baseline of being the best, you would be referred to as the deviant variant.”

  “Deviant?”

  “Those who go against the natural order to wedge their own into the totem pole or food chain. This supports the idea of you being a Pythia. Your race is known to be the most numerous in terms of which biome you could adapt to. Your colder overall temperature might prove challenging but not impossible to overcome.”

  “Uhuh…”

  “Then moving on, your strength is comparable to the weakest of Ursus. However, the velocity and volumes of strikes you could generate would multiply the expected force by several margins. This is harmful to your body due to the aforementioned detriment and counter-mass of an object… This is nullified with the perfect solution, and that is?”

  “… My regenerative potential?”

  “Indeed, then we will continue with your body.” Kal’tsit spread out her research papers on the table. Nyx peruses it herself while listening to the Feline’s lecture. She is impressed by how many volumes she has made in just 5 years. She would never doubt that even one of these would fetch a handsome price in the market, thus making her a bigger target. The fact that didn’t happen shows just how committed the Feline is to her duty and morality compass.

  “Your body appears to be the very principle of effectiveness and pragmatic evolution to do nothing less than to survive and dominate an ecosystem. Your muscles are folding upon one another, creating a harder and sturdier physique each time it was damaged while maintaining acceptable weight without compromising yourself.” She points towards several upscaled photos of Nyx’s skin being slicker than the previous one.

  “Starting with your skin or the epidermis. It is less of skin… but yers of scales.”

  “S-Scales?” Nyx was armed after hearing it and started touching her arm… but she didn’t feel anything one would feel when touching scales. Kal’tsit nodded before continuing on her expnation.

  “Do not be armed, your skin is no different in appearance than even an average Terran but compared to average them, yours acts more like scales; a yer of nerve-free armor. I had done research regarding its basic functions such as protecting yourself from germs, repairing skin damage, and allowing for pigmentation; to name a few. Research and analysis yielded an expnation that yours has been severely altered. No longer does it only filter viruses and natural bacteria, but also chemical reactions. Then I must ask you, have you felt anything when bathing for example?”

  “… Huh… that’s great and for your question… I did feel like a part of my skin seemed to be shedding off… but then it kinda… dissolved? Yeah, it's kinda like that. Then when I try to cut my skin with a sharp object, only military-grade, well-processed, or esoteric material could even wound me… what did I actually molt?!” Nyx tilted her head while answering the question. Kal’tsit scribbled down the answer on paper for further research if necessary.

  “Indeed, your body never stops growing in terms of what’s best to make you survive. From what I could surmise, every time it got damaged would only mean that it would develop itself to withstand the same kind of weakness to an extent. Your body exhibits a behavior that goes in line with protecting its host. Bear in mind that there used to be Elders who dispy behavior such as yours.”

  Nyx nodded and allowed the Feline doctor to continue.

  “The second photo, the dermis, was the flesh that unraveled from your body the first time after the incident 5 years ago. As you have noticed, the muscle is torn along the shown picture. This degree of damage sustained would have fried your nerve and killed you from sensory overload… but you survived. I had also noted down findings in regards to how quick it is in distributing colgen and blood while ensuring your nerves work with minimal interruption, even more so when it is outside critical situation.”

  “So, ultra regeneration plus self-evolution? Sounds good… A pity though, that damn twinkpire is sturdier than I am.” Kal’tsit looks up from her papers, thousands of words compressed into a single stare at this Pythia who just called a King of Vampire with a new insult using made-up vocabury.

  “… Next onto the third yer or hypodermis… As your muscuture turns from links that constitute your figure, it is now a veritable pseudo-armor. It doesn’t make you impervious to sharp objects, especially those that were designed with stabbing in mind, but it does absorb impacts and redistribute them all over your body much more efficiently. In theory, it would be much more painful due to how many nerves it will go through, but the damage you receive would be far less than expected. In a sense, it acts like an arming doublet to your skin that is a breastpte. These covered the most vital but also strongest part of your body… your bones.” She shifts towards another photo, showing the difference in scans between bones of the 1st, 12th, and even 29th days during Nyx’s coma.

  “Initially, your bones suffered major cracks and injury that would render you comatose for the rest of your life. Healing bones is a herculean task, even for some of the Elders who possessed racial superiority and physiology. You do not exhibit such problems. I was about to ask you for a sample regarding this finding, but seeing how handily you fend off and combat the Sanguinarch proves more credence to that self-evolution hypothetical. Now I ask you, how heavy could you carry before feeling any discomfort?”

  “Erm… st time I hauled 10 tons of weight or something; I don’t know, barely felt a thing. Those damn bandits tried to blow me while I was inside a cave doing routine Originium veins inspections, very rude of them.” The Pythia answered briefly and staggered Kal’tsit’s writing speed.

  “Hmm… this is curious. Either your body, specifically your bones, had developed further allowing you to perform such a feat or there are indeed complications with your pain receptors. Now, please tell me about your weight.”

  “…Ugh… Sure.”

  The patient relented and she got her bodyweight checked. After it was done, Nyx bodyweight is an astonishingly light 40 kg (88 Ibs) for someone being 172 cm (5’7”) tall. She expects her to be somewhere around the ideal weight, that’s just pin logic.

  So this brings more questions, such as what were her muscles made up of then? It goes against logic because muscle gaining strength and toughness also means increased mass which in turn transtes into an increase in body weight. Kal’tsit’s mental calcution and logical thinking are interrupted by a Pythia who seems adamant about something…

  “Whatever is written in there: A. I’m not heavy, B. I demand retry for potential snder.”

  ‘A psychologically induced response? Hmm, she appears to be more in touch with her own now.’ Kal’tsit notes her behavior. It would be a great relief to know that she is not a psychopath or sociopath.

  “Hah… you’re not, you’re too light.” The Feline continues with her lecture after handing over Nyx’s assessment. Nyx beamed seeing that she was not, in fact, too much too heavy. Remembering that certain someone was waiting for her answer, Nyx coughed with reddened cheeks. Good thing that they’re in a private section.

  “Oh um… uh… what do you mean?”

  “… You know an ant’s notable feat?” Nyx was confused for a while before her face lit up.

  “Ah, I see… So because of my bones being so robust, body so light and tight into effective form, allowed me to haul multiple times my body weight?”

  “Oh? I’m surprised with such a succinct answer. Were you perhaps learned as an individual?”

  “Well, I still like to read you know? Even more so when I never graduated from any sort of education that doesn’t involve turning someone into a past tense or a pretzel.” A morose chuckle left her lips. Kal’tsit noted her st remark as psychological, perhaps she has outgrown her bloodlust after all.

  “Very well. To summarize, your body is the epitome of an enigma; there is no clear-cut answer at the moment. It would still take me years to fully comprehend it. Provided your body stops its self-evolution.” Nyx is confused by Kal’tsit’s implied meaning. Her body is bizarre and it fetches interest… but it is not all that special for her. A part of the Grey Serpent is tempted to ask why, but the other rationalizes that is not a good idea. So she keeps mum.

  One thing is certain, Kal’tsit is a much more dangerous person to be made an enemy of. She remembered her scuffles with deadly foes so far.

  ‘Ugh… reminds me of that asshole Emperor’s Bde and the Sanguinarch. There is no guarantee that Kal’tsit herself has nothing to do with either when it comes to strength department… Am I being cursed to meet powerhouse in hiding every single time?!’

  “We finally reached the final part of my analysis.”

  “That’s quick.”

  “I only have half an hour to spend with you, and that 90 minutes only amounted for personal usage was reduced to 30 minutes.”

  Kal’tsit brought forth a vial of Nyx blood still left pristine and pure without any blemish. Then she pulled out a vial but this one was empty.

  “Now I would need to perform sample gathering and medical checks.”

  “Sure, go wild I guess…” Nyx just presents her arm for Kal’tsit to operate. While at it, she compares notes and analyses she had gathered before, during, and after, and the test findings of her research. Nyx is also interested in her notes plus the Feline doesn’t seem to mind her looking up her notes. As expected, Nyx could barely understand 10% being written on it, her mind stuck understanding technical terms, medical jargon, and even the comparative notes. She is lost simply because she doesn’t understand what the hell she is even looking at or supposed to look at.

  Kal’tsit is soon done with her blood transfusion and medical inspection. She pces the opposing blood sample side by side… and sees no difference whatsoever. They are both darker than normal but there is this sickly sweet scent in either of them.

  “Both have the same color and smell… so what’s the point?”

  “Everything about you changed; evolved, so why didn’t your blood react to these changes? Or perhaps, your blood is something else entirely? More advanced, for one such example.”

  “That… hmm… that makes sense.”

  “I’ll be honest, this is the first time I've seen blood of this kind, and could you lend me your venom?”

  “Ok…” Nyx bit her hand to entice her venom to pour, her hand goes numb but she had built up enough resistance to her own. She stores her newly made venom into another vial, and Kal’tsit notices that it is much darker than the one she had recorded, that one had been used to understand how her venom works.

  “Here is the arming part, it doesn’t fall into any known normal category, and the reason why it is so poisonous… is because it tried to overpower and devour any blood types once your venom is diluted into your blood.” Nyx was agape hearing her expnation. She was about to say her piece when Kal’tsit was already a step ahead. She brought up containers with the blood types and mixed Nyx’s blood and venom into them.

  Her blood-mix does not just devour, but it also turns it green and from there, it seems to be burning and fizzling out. Regardless of type, each could be seen boiling in its container, and from there, the contents went lower and lower until her venomous blood evaporated. What used to be 200ml blood for each type has been reduced to less than 1/3 utilizing merely a fraction of Nyx’s venomous blood.

  “…”

  “Your blood and venom are an effective combination of weapons to ravage someone from the inside out. It first infects the blood, infiltrates it, and then the venom acts as the primary component to induce a biochemical reaction. This brought us to a point that could prove beneficial or detrimental and either is up to your judgment.”

  She was about to continue before Nyx’s terminal rang with a message. She read it and scowled seeing the content. She typed her reply quickly and after that was done she pulled out a cigarette out of her pocket. Kal’tsit would have a disproving look on her face if only she had none of this current information in mind. So she just stared at her.

  “… Well then, out with it. I just got a call that Convoy 4 is having trouble.” Kal’tsit put down her paper and stared right at Nyx’s eyes.

  “You’re sterile.”

  -

  -

  -

  -

  “Uh…” Vaskie stirred awake from her slumber. Her nostrils soon fred from the smell of antiseptics and the sterilized feeling it left her. She sat up from her bed and noticed that there were also others around. PMC medics who usually act wary near Sarkaz are more or less disregarding their prejudices when wounded are dimes a dozen. Babel Operators are perhaps even more so, they are acting quickly on their feet.

  She could feel someone tapping her shoulder. Turning around, she sees Meteorite with her left hand bandaged and in a sling.

  “You’re finally up.”

  “I guess… um… how long have you been here?” Meteorite just shakes her head amusedly.

  “I don’t know, we have been here for days. A few Cordelian had gone ahead to fetch the 1st convoy and they returned just a few hours ago with even more supplies. Her Majesty was grateful about it, those could st them through the upcoming winter and some more after all, if everything goes well that is…”

  “I see… so, what now?”

  “We’re waiting for the clear ahead. Dr. Kal’tsit was quite adamant that we reach a safe drop-off point… Babel is not exactly in good shape, and it needs yers of protection from what I can see.”

  “Um… where’s Jordan?” Meteorite's eyes widened slightly, but thankfully Vaskie didn’t notice because she was nursing her headache. The brunette Sarkaz wonders how to break the bad news for her. Fortunately, or not, a male Babel operator approached the two of them. He is dressed like a noble and carries himself as such, his bck horns are more akin to feathers, and his bone whistle appears to be esoteric and elegant without overdoing it.

  “Ah, you’re finally awake.” Vaskie goes rigid hearing a voice she never thought would hear again. She reluctantly turned her face towards the voice and came face to face with the Great Banshee himself. A small part of her old self would have been singing with sheer joy and pride but most of her current self only chants about shame and loneliness. Still, it won’t do to not pay her respect to the Madam of Banshee.

  Meteorite decides that it’s a good time to leave them to their own devices. She bid her farewell and headed out looking for a Cordelian officer. The both of them nodded at her, and thus they were left with only each other since no one appeared to be interested in their business.

  “… Madam E’phaniel… forgive me for not noticing your presence.” She dipped her head as low as possible, disregarding the painful soreness assailing her ravaged body and mind. Yet a pair of hands stops her, those were none other than the King’s own. His face is stoic befitting that of a monarch, but the gentleness and care shown through his fingertips spoke of worry and relief to meet her once more.

  “Please, at the moment… I’m nothing more than just a Banshee visiting a sick retive. So, would you call me like we used to?” She almost choked out a sob, to think that he still considered her as one struck her core. With trembling lips, she spoke cautiously.

  “… Thank you, E’niel… for… being so nice to me… despite everything I had done.” Her words seem to make him twitch. His eye turned somber and sorrowful, but he kept himself upright and expressionless all the same.

  “That matter… we shall talk about it at length in due time. Now, how are you feeling?”

  “I’m… alright…” Her answer agitates him to no end, her excessive self-fgeltion is getting on his nerves. Then again he understood that, considering her reputation within the Elegiac Court, she would no doubt act so.

  “I hope that you’re being honest… Please, Kyrie, it is for your own good.”

  “Um… well… I’m…” Her stomach grumbled in her stead. Her cheeks glow pink and that what’s he wanted to see. His mask cracks a tiny teensy bit, but that’s enough. He offered her a hand and smiled thinly.

  “Let’s walk around, if you’re truly alright, how about I give you a treat and a little tour?”

  “… Very well.” With wobbling steps, she was carefully escorted out of the med bay. She feels guilty when people who know of her circumstances are throwing dirty gnces at her, but E’phaniel doesn’t care and even gres back to remind them to mind their own business. Not everyone knows that he is the Great Banshee, but they all know that Operator Logos is an Elite one and no one messes with them.

  During their impromptu reminiscing session, they meet with Nyx… who has an unlit cigarette hanging on her lips. She looks to be lost and confused. To say that it bewildered Vaskie is an understatement of the century. Nyx always has this warm look reserved for people she is fond of beneath her mask’s gaze, but that too is absent. Vaskie approaches her with Logos following her in tow.

  “Um… Nyx?”

  “H-Huh?” Her voice is so weak that it arms the Banshee pairs; Vaskie almost freaked out hearing the sheer dissonance and ck of enthusiasm from it. Nyx seems to realize it before lighting up her cigarette. She takes a puff, a long drawn-out huff of nicotine, yet the smoke she exhaled felt cold…

  “Are you alright?”

  “Yeah… Just… Fighting that fucker took a lot out of me… I need some fresh air and I still need to get convoy 4 out of Sette Colli.” She brushes past the two and heads towards the hangar, with the same lost look still etched into her gaze. Logos noticed her emotions, but he decided that now was not a good time to introduce himself.

  “E’niel… what happened to her?”

  “… I’m unsure.”

  [END OF CHAPTER]

  Author’s Note:

  Yo there, this is me, myself, and I, the author who has a headache from stressful job hunting.

  As you can see… Nyx is something else. From here, we (except me, lmao) don’t know what the hell her real, scientific in-universe, cssification… which also means another one might or might not be conducted in the future.

  I’ll be taking a vacation, see you in 2 weeks.

  Ciao.