[Sacrifice]: Did your brain crystallize into a tumor, or is this something worse?
She pointed at his body, her gaze moving across the exposed wires and stone-like structures.
[Sacrifice]: Let me remind you—I am a doctor. Not a neurologist. Not an engineer.
A brief pause. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she examined him more closely.
[Sacrifice]: And the longer I look at you… The less of you I actually recognize as human.
She stepped closer, crouching slightly to inspect the fused components.
[Sacrifice]: These aren't just implants. These are networks—layers of them. Neural links, mechanical relays… and they're all fused together.
Her tone remained flat. Analytical.
[Sacrifice]: If I'm not mistaken… more than half of your body has crystallized.
A light tap against a hardened section of metal.
[Sacrifice]: Even the metal is turning to stone.
A pause.
[Sacrifice]: You're not a patient.
Her eyes lifted to meet his.
[Sacrifice]: You're a dead failure pretending to be alive.
A pause. Her gaze dragged across his ruined body.
[Sacrifice]: And looking at you like this… it makes me angry.
Her voice stayed controlled—but colder now.
[Sacrifice]: Not because of what you are.
A step closer.
[Sacrifice]: But because of how carelessly you treat what's left of yourself.
Her fingers hovered near the exposed wiring, then withdrew.
[Sacrifice]: You're neither alive nor dead. Just… suspended between the two.
A brief silence.
[Sacrifice]: And for all I know—
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
[Sacrifice]: I may not be able to help you at all.
She reached into her bag, pulled out a bottle of disinfectant alcohol—
—and drank it.
No hesitation.
No reaction.
Just a quiet exhale as she lowered the empty bottle.
[Protector]: I know.
His voice was steady. Accepting.
[Protector]: I'm not asking you to fix me.
A faint mechanical click echoed as he shifted.
[Protector]: Just cut out the parts that have turned into Originium.
A pause.
[Protector]: Seal whatever you can. Tape. Stitch. I don't care.
His gaze held hers.
Unwavering.
[Protector]: I have one month at most if this continues.
A beat.
[Protector]: My brain… maybe two years before it fully shuts down.
The ticking in his chest grew louder.
[Protector]: That's enough.
A pause.
[Protector]: Just do it for me.
Sacrifice stared at him.
Long.
Unblinking.
[Sacrifice]: You want me—
Her voice was low now.
[Sacrifice]: A doctor who exists to save lives…
A step forward.
[Sacrifice]: …to prolong your suffering?
A pause. Then quieter—
[Protector]: I'm begging you.
His voice didn't break—but something beneath it did.
[Protector]: Prolong it. Let me feel it. The rot. The gears grinding. The weight of every second, this body refuses to die.
His chest gave a faint, uneven rise.
Tick.
Tock.
[Protector]: Let my heart keep ticking… let my arms move… let me keep going—
A breath.
Heavy.
Deliberate.
[Protector]: Just long enough to save her.
Silence settled between them.
Not tense.
Not loud.
Just… heavy.
Sacrifice studied him.
Then exhaled softly.
[Sacrifice]: …You're insane.
A pause.
She turned, already moving.
[Sacrifice]: I'll help you.
She stepped closer, crouching beside him as her hands moved with quiet precision—opening a worn kit, laying out tools one by one.
Her gaze flicked briefly toward the metal lodged in his skull.
[Sacrifice]: Though before I put that tetanus-ridden bolt back into your head…
A slight tilt of her head.
[Sacrifice]: You're going to talk.
She met his eyes again.
Calm. Direct.
[Sacrifice]: I want to understand the world I'm standing in.
A beat.
[Sacrifice]: And the people like us.
Her hands didn't stop moving.
[Sacrifice]: The Oathkeepers.
A pause.
[Sacrifice]: Start from the beginning.
Protector was quiet for a moment.
Then—
[Protector]: …I don't remember much.
A faint, hollow exhale.
[Protector]: Just fragments.
His gaze drifted somewhere distant.
[Protector]: But I remember a promise.
A beat.
[Protector]: I made it a hundred years ago.
His voice softened—just slightly.
[Protector]: To a girl.
The ticking of his heart grew louder in the silence.
[Protector]: I told her… I'd be there when she needed me.
A pause.
[Protector]: And now—
His eyes sharpened.
[Protector]: She needs me more than ever.
Silence.
Then—
[Protector]: As for Oathkeepers…
A faint shift in tone. Older. Heavier.
[Protector]: Let me tell you about two of the greatest.
A breath.
[Protector]: The knight… Arthur.
Another.
[Protector]: And the Great White Snake
She adjusted a tool in her hand without looking at him.
[Sacrifice]: Make it quick. I still need to drag you back to camp and keep you from falling apart during surgery.
Protector let out a faint, dry exhale—something close to amusement.
A pause.
[Protector]: Arthur was one of the few non-Sarkaz Oathkeepers.
His gaze drifted, as if pulling the image from somewhere buried deep.
[Protector]: A Kuranta. Took the Knight's Oath… and lived it like it was his entire identity.
A faint flicker of something—respect.
[Protector]: Shining armor. Always polished. Always spotless.
A slight shake of his head.
[Protector]: Not because he cleaned it.
A beat.
[Protector]: Because he was too fast for blood to ever touch him.
The fire cracked softly.
[Protector]: People underestimated him because of that.
A faint pause.
[Protector]: They thought he was ceremonial. Decorative.
His voice lowered.
[Protector]: They were wrong.
Another breath.
[Protector]: Arthur Nearl.
The name settled between them.
[Protector]: He died in Yan.
A pause.
[Protector]: Fighting a Feranmut.
Silence lingered for a moment before he continued.
[Protector]: As for the Great White Snake…
Something in his tone shifted. Heavier.
[Protector]: She wasn't just an Oathkeeper.
A pause.
[Protector]: She was a Feranmut.
A slow, uneven exhale left him.
[Protector]: During the war… the one they call the war against the eye that broke the heavens… her body was destroyed.
A beat.
[Protector]: But something remained.
His gaze hardened slightly.
[Protector]: A fragment.
[Protector]: Enough to think. Enough to choose.
Another pause.
[Protector]: She stayed in Ursus.
His voice softened, just slightly.
[Protector]: Guarded it.
[Protector]: Loved it.
A longer silence.
[Protector]: Until Yan decided she was too dangerous to exist.
The words fell flat. Final.
[Protector]: So they hunted her.
A faint, bitter edge crept in.
[Protector]: And this time… they made sure nothing was left behind.
Silence stretched.
Only the ticking remained.
Tick.
Tock.
Then—
[Protector]: …Now that I think about it…
A slow, hollow breath.
[Protector]: Most Oathkeepers didn't die by fate.
His eyes shifted slightly toward Sacrifice.
[Protector]: They were hunted.
A beat.
[Protector]: And more often than not…
His voice dropped.
[Protector]: Yan was the one holding the blade.
A pause.
[Sacrifice]: Now we're leaving.
She corked the last vial, her hands steady despite the blood still staining them.
[Sacrifice]: You took your time telling that story.
A small tilt of her head.
[Sacrifice]: I'm done here. Let's go back so I can fix what's left of you.
Without hesitation, she grabbed a bottle of disinfectant alcohol—
—and drank it.
No reaction.
As if it were water.
Protector stared at her.
[Protector]: …That was the fastest version I could manage.
[Sacrifice]: No talking back.
She turned, already walking.
A beat.
[Sacrifice]: Before I start drinking out of anger.
The threat didn't sound like a joke.
[Chapter end]