"Is this really Kazdel?"
"No, it should be called Camelot now."
Standing on the bridge of Rhodes Island, looking up at the walls of Camelot, Mechanist said incredulously:
Is this really the same city?
"It's hard to believe, but it is indeed the same building."
ACE patted his colleague on the shoulder and gestured upwards.
To the astonishment of the Mechanist, the tightly sealed walls began to deform, opening their mouths like Behemoth to swallow Rhodes Island whole.
The blocked passageway was widened, and in the blink of an eye, a huge docking station was created for Rhodes Island within the city.
"It's deformed, isn't it? It definitely deformed just now!"
"Don't make a fuss, it's the Dead Souls taking control of this city."
Dead Souls have no such function!
Mechanist pressed the air freshener on his helmet, trying to clear his head.
Dead Souls can at most control creation; when did they become able to so easily alter the form of matter?
Hmm... wait, I feel like I've seen this somewhere before.
Mechanist suddenly remembered the cheap student he had taken in a while ago, the little guy who looked a lot like Dead Souls.
No way...
[Whee--]
Mechanist looked up and saw the massive steel beam twisted and deformed into a smiling face.
"... ACE, how much would it cost to recruit a Dead Souls as an assistant in the city?"
"Just say it directly; most Dead Souls won't refuse to help."
"Really? Aren't they rumored to be a bunch of old-fashioned, stubborn people?"
State--!
A screw landed on the Mechanist helmet, and ACE looked helpless.
"Alright, now you can't recruit them."
The Mechanist bent over in frustration, while Outcast, standing nearby, asked ACE and the others again.
"I mean, is it really okay for a Sankta to go into the city alone?"
Outcast's concerns were not unfounded. The Sankta and Sarkaz had a long history of hostility, and even friendly races were hard to tolerate in the former city of Kazdel, let alone an adversary.
"Just watch your words and actions. No one here will attack you randomly; after all, we all have role models."
"Example?"
ACE grinned, and a transport elevator appeared out of thin air from the ceiling, taking everyone to the ground.
They understand what a role model is.
Inside the city wall, numerous booms hung high, with large amounts of twisted fabric suspended above them, and most notably, enormous leeches.
"Some of the resurrected Teekaz, the troublemakers, were hung on it by the new king."
"Is this really okay?"
Whitcsmith, who had come along, looked worried.
If she wasn't mistaken, the enormous boom seemed to have pierced right through their bodies.
"It's alright. The Teekaz have proven that this was how punishments were carried out in ancient times. This kind of punishment is actually quite lenient."
"Light? What about the heavy ones?"
"Hugging the Flame Demon or something."
The operators exchanged glances, a sense of unease creeping over the upcoming meeting.
Seeing what his colleagues were thinking, ACE comforted them:
"Don't worry, that new king isn't a tyrant. You'll see soon enough."
As the group continued forward, the true appearance of the city came into view.
The previously chaotic building complex has been cleared away, and although the black and red color scheme remains, the city now has a well-organized layout.
"So frustrating..." Misery calmly remarked.
The buildings in front of me were overly orderly, square in shape, as if Giant had haphazardly built them with blocks.
The matchbox isn't exactly ugly, but it's not particularly attractive either.
"Wang is already urgently recruiting city designers. The current appearance is just a transitional phase; it will undergo major changes in the future."
Having witnessed how the undead had altered the city's appearance, the Elite Operators learned about the origins of these buildings.
However, compared to these giant matchboxes, what caught everyone's attention even more were the enormous objects on the street.
Did our ancestors originally look like this?
Misery scanned the Teekaz on the street, trying to find his own race.
Noticing these newcomers, many Teekaz rushed towards them, causing the Daichi to rumble.
Seeing that ACE and the others did not react, the other operators also gritted their teeth and stayed where they were.
"You guys... are new here?"
Goliath's towering figure blocked out the sunlight, and the terrifying sense of oppression caused many operators to silently grip their weapons.
Misery sighed silently to herself.
Could it be that what he just did offended the other party?
"Yes, is there anything I can help you with?"
"Great! Is there anything I can help you with?"
"???"xN
Faced with the puzzled looks from the crowd, ACE explained.
"This is a policy designed to help everyone integrate into the city. The king has ordered that if someone receives assistance, they should also help three other people in need."
"It's not mandatory, but everyone is happy to do it."
While others were still pondering the intentions, Outcast, a native of Laterano, already understood.
"A benevolent chain... Does she want to turn Camelot into Holy City like Laterano?"
Outcast took out a jar of candy and handed it to Goliath was still waiting in front of him.
"Then please help me distribute the candy to the children. I'll also try to help others."
"Okay, remember to vote for me in the outstanding citizen evaluation."
Goliath departed, ACE explained:
"It's also the king's policy; outstanding citizens will be selected at the end of the month, and those selected will receive corresponding rewards."
Outcast's questions
"A vote? Who has the most votes right now?"
"Wis'adel, that girl seems to have some ambition, and she's campaigning like crazy for it, but she has quite a few competitors too."
As they continued their conversation, the group moved further inside, where they began to see ordinary residents and a number of strange shops.
"Were these also the work of the new king?"
Pith couldn't help but ask. Good heavens, she'd actually found a Leithanien musical instrument shop here!
As for why I could recognize it, the labels on the instruments weren't even torn off!
"I guess so," Scout answered this time.
"Since most of the work was taken away by the Dead Souls, Wang simply investigated what everyone wanted to do."
"Aside from a few outrageous requests, the Ideal King will support most of them."
[Can't the Sarkaz leave any legacy besides hatred? No, not at all. If you're interested, go for it.]
Worried about failure? How about being more proactive? That's called daring to try.
[Funds and shopping channels? Leave that to Closure; I can offer some for now.]
"That's what Wang said. I can't believe that the very next day I had my own musical instrument, and even a shop!"
The shop owner, noticing the crowd lingering, excitedly recounted the story, even giving an impromptu performance for everyone.
Although playing rock on classical instruments was strange, everyone thought it sounded great.
"That's great."
Raidian reached out to help a child who almost fell, and politely saw the child off. His usually squinted eyes widened slightly.
"Camelot, the Ideal City... a city where everyone can realize their dreams, is that what it means?"
The operators' pace slowed down at some point; was it due to exhaustion, or the beauty of their surroundings?
But some people remain clear-headed.
"Scout, is everything here supported by the new king?"
Pith asked a question, and Scout nodded.
"Due to the battle, most of the city's facilities were destroyed. Everything you see now was done with Wang's own money."
The crowd snapped out of their rosy reverie.
Undoubtedly, this supply-demand relationship is highly unhealthy, yet it is also unavoidable.
No country would support the reconstruction of Kazdel, so the Sarkaz had to rely on themselves, especially since their homeland had long been reduced to wasteland by war.
"No wonder you all joined the new camp immediately."
Mechanist scratched his head.
"They've gone to such lengths for this city, while we hesitant folks are the ones who're so indecisive."
"Are you also leaving the Babel Tower, Mechanist?"
"Don't be so heartless, Pith. Can't I work two jobs? Besides, His Highness works here too."
Remembering something, the Mechanist turned to ACE.
"Speaking of which, which faction does the new king belong to? Will being a non- Sarkaz race pose any obstacles?"
"When you see the Vampire strolling through this city, you should know that race isn't a big deal."
ACE patted his friend's chest and explained to the other bewildered operators.
"Don't worry, the Babel Tower will not be disbanded. The King and His Highness have discussed it and plan to transform the Babel Tower into a charity organization that provides relief to the entire Daichi."
"Funded by Camelot, Babel Tower is responsible for treating Infected and other refugees around the world, seeking cooperation while changing the Sarkaz's image abroad."
Scout followed closely behind in pursuit.
"As for the benefits at Babel Tower... double the salary, all kinds of insurance provided, company-funded travel on holidays, and full-time employees can also obtain a residence in Camelot."
"I have a question!" the Mechanist raised his hand.
Do mechanical creations deserve the same treatment?
The Structural Principles beside it nodded frantically.
"I remember you said you refused to acknowledge that it had any personality whatsoever; logically, a non-living being shouldn't..."
"It can even find a parking space by itself!"
The Structural Principle trotted over and rubbed against ACE's leg, who then raised his hands in surrender.
"I suggest you discuss the relevant policies regarding mechanical creations with the King. After all, even unresurrected Dead Souls will still receive their leave and wages as usual."
"A word of warning: keep your distance when you meet, or someone might shoot you in the dark."
The Mechanist made numerous assurances, and the atmosphere became lively again. Ascalon, who had been silent all along, finally spoke.
"Is that enough, ACE?"
Facing the gazes of his colleagues, Ascalon explained:
"It must be His Highness's idea. He hopes that visiting the city will ease the resistance of the Elite Operator. His Highness always thinks this way."
"But that's unnecessary. We've gathered here for the same ideal, and Elite Operator never refuse His Highness's orders."
"That being said, haven't you become unusually talkative lately?"
Scout, clutching the back of his head, stood by and sabotaged the performance.
"In the past, you would have secretly gone to find His Highness long ago. Why did you walk with us for so long today... I won't say anything more, really."
Ascalon released his hand from Scout's shoulder with a crisp snap that sent shivers down one's spine.
"If what you're saying is true, we'll have many more opportunities to visit this city in the future. As for now—"
"I need to confirm His Highness's actual condition first."
"In fact, we've already arrived."
ACE shrugged and pointed to the shop next to him. Unlike the other blank shops, this shop had its own name.
[Hyiwi Cloth Shop]
"Welcome..."
"Hey, Hedley," ACE greeted the burly man behind the bar.
"Why do you speak so weakly? This isn't how you entertain guests."
"I suppose you're not here to buy fabric..."
Hedley squinted and listlessly scribbled something on the paper, when a figure appeared behind him, whose tone of voice became more forceful.
"Those two are upstairs, please make yourselves at home."
Ines increased the pressure on her hands, Hedley gasped, adding:
"Please also support my shop's business."
"... You've had it tough too."
With a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, the group of Elite Operator understood and began browsing the merchandise in the store.
Those who went to the second floor for the meeting --
Scout looked worriedly at the Doctor had remained silent throughout.
"Doctor, are you alright?"
"... Let's go."
He lifted his foot and climbed the stairs, his mood growing heavier with each Doctor.
As soon as the wound in the sky came into view, the voice of another version of myself kept echoing in my mind.
The Doctor knew it was an illusion caused by the Gray Matter Nail, but he couldn't eliminate it.
Ultimately, this reflects another side of his thinking.
The situation is out of control. Originium Project is our last hope. Are you going to let it fail?
No, Kazdel is getting better. What I see is not an illusion. I believe in the potential of this Daichi.
Life on this Daichi has thrived for tens of thousands of years, yet they haven't even set foot in the stars. Their allotted time is running out. Do you really think they can do it?
I have no right to choose the fate of a civilization. The original intention of Originium Project was to save, not to kill.
[This distorted civilization should never have been born. It's a flawed branch of the Originium Project, and your excessive interference has caused this error. It's our responsibility to correct it.]
Civilization takes precedence over survival; a civilization without people is meaningless!
No, she's waiting for us, all our compatriots are waiting there...
"Doctor, are you alright?"
Having snapped out of his reverie during the debate, the Doctor gasped for breath, facing Scout's worried gaze.
"... I'm fine."
The Doctor hurried past Scout, eager to see that figure; he needed someone to bolster his resolve.
Upon entering the second floor, the Doctor's eyes were drawn to the pink and red figures.
"Sew it from here?"
"Yes, because most Sarkaz activities are very strenuous, more stitches should be added to the joints to keep them secure."
Vera was sewing children's clothes following Theresa's instructions when the latter noticed the Doctor's arrival and greeted him with a smile.
"You look distressed, Doctor."
[Look at them, how peaceful and happy they are... Why drag them into that chaotic vortex?]
"Theresa ..."
A wave of confused emotions washed over Theresa, and her expression changed slightly.
[Giving the dying a final rest is not killing; there's no need to offer a rootless raft to the drowning; false redemption... is meaningless.]
"I..."
The Doctor clutched his chest, a strong feeling of suffocation washing over him, reminding him once again of that darkness.
The signals representing civilization are constantly being extinguished; behind each signal lies the loss of tens of millions of lives.
The last thing we saw were the smiling faces of our compatriots before they entered the Sarcophagus.
Finally, what I heard was the weight of an entire civilization entrusted to me.
Please, Prophet.
The Doctor's unusual behavior was so obvious that Vera immediately became alert.
"Excuse me, Theresa, could I speak with him alone?"
Theresa sensed the emotions emanating from Vera and, understanding their meaning, advised against it:
"... Please be gentle with the Doctor."
"It won't hurt him."
The two of them were left alone in the space. Vera helped the Doctor to sit by the window, and in the warm sunlight, the dampness in her memory gradually faded away.
Are you feeling any better?
"Feel sorry."
"I have no reason for you to apologize, but what about your body? Is it that the Grey Nails are working again?"
The Doctor looked up; the information about the Grey Nail shouldn't exist in the records of the Deep Blue Tree.
"Yes, you should have figured it out by now," Vera sighed.
"Your information is not something we obtained from the Deep Blue Tree; we truly come from another world, a world that knows your story."
"Our story..."
"Yes, yours, Priestess's, and even the Daichi's."
Vera confessed the truth, and a glimmer of hope immediately arose in the Doctor's heart.
"In the stories you know, what is the ultimate fate of this Daichi?"
"You've forged your own path as you wished, coexisting with Originium, but whether you can overcome that darkness remains to be seen."
A brief moment of joy, followed by silence once more.
The world has countless possibilities, and the story Vera saw may only represent the successful part, not the only solution.
The Doctor shook his head.
Why are you telling me now?
Vera remained silent for a long time, as if she were communicating with someone.
"Perhaps it's because they can't stay out of it."
She touched her own shoulder.
"A city, a race—the burden is so heavy; you bear the weight of an entire civilization."
The Doctor touched his shoulder; it was indeed very heavy, so heavy that he could hardly breathe.
"But you also chose to bear the burden, why?"
The Doctor looked at Vera. He was a choice made out of necessity by civilization, but you should be different.
"This is not your civilization, so why are you interfering?"
Are you asking me, or are you asking yourself?
Vera countered with a question, but before the Doctor could answer:
"Actually, I didn't intend to interfere at first, after all, as you said, this is not my civilization."
"Escape is simple: plug your ears and you won't hear the cries of agony; close your eyes and you won't see the suffering."
"Can you do it, Doctor?"
"..."
"Yes, you can't do it, and neither can I."
Vera looked out the window and picked up a potted plant.
"Originium Project compresses everything into information and stores it in an internalized universe, but from the perspective of its purpose, it is a very successful project. So why do you oppose it, Doctor?"
Why?
The Doctor took the potted plant and tried to feel its texture through his gloves.
That was his disagreement with Priestess.
If we exist only as data, without physical contact or emotional connection, can we truly be considered alive?
"The Preserver Project." Vera retrieved the greenery.
"When selecting overseers, did the elderly Friston volunteer to become part of the system's data because he didn't want to lie in Sarcophagus with his family?"
"No..." the Doctor denied it.
"Yes, perhaps it's partly because he's watching over his daughter, but it's also because he sees this as death."
"A civilization without people is meaningless; I think we all agree on that."
She's trying to sway you!
The voice in his mind sounded again. Recognizing the true nature of his own consciousness, the Doctor sighed:
"I see."
"Good that you understand. Now, what's next..."
"Seal me back into the Sarcophagus."
"..."
After a long silence, Vera said incredulously.
After all that, did you think I was going to harm you?
"Isn't that right?" the Doctor asked, taken aback.
"A lost civilization should not hinder the progress of a new one, isn't that what you wanted to tell me?"
"Of course not, aren't you still alive and well? How can you say your civilization has passed away?"
Ignoring the jerk in the group who insisted she tell a riddle, Vera said frankly:
"Remember the collaboration I proposed earlier? This is just the official start of it."
"Cooperate..."
"Stasis Site."
The Doctor's breath hitched, Vera's palm ignited, burning the green plants to ashes.
"The site Preserver Project was implemented, where 100,000 Sarcophagus still lie."
"It's pointless." The Doctor shook his head.
"The preserver lost communication and has remained dormant for millennia; most of its kin are also..."
"But I can be resurrected!"
Vera reignited the flames, and the green plants that had turned to ashes were reborn in the fire.
"I'm not a local, this power isn't Originium Arts, and the book you're deciphering really is a magic book."
The Doctor looked at the potted plant and suddenly raised his head.
"The civilization of two people may be meaningless... but what about 100,000 people?"
Under the same sunlight, Vera reached out her hand once more, extending the invitation she had failed to fulfill.
"Prophet, we do not need war machines fueled by war, and you, as a scholar, should not go to war."
"Scout and I talked to each other. Your operators don't actually want you at the command post, and neither do I."
"Those bastards who expect to resolve this through war, I will deal with them in the same way, and you are free to do what you like."
Without anyone noticing, the Doctor grasped that hand.
Vera laughed.
"A wise choice, Doctor."
"If, as you say, the technology of the Precivilization could pinpoint the exact time of our departure, then..."
"We'll find the remnants of the Star Gate, we'll kill the Demons blocking our way, and we'll provide the necessary resources."
"When you truly help us find the coordinates of our homeland, your compatriots will also return."
She's lying to you!
"Can I trust you?" The Doctor couldn't resist this terrible temptation.
"Of course, you can try the trial version first. We can find a lucky person at the Stasis Site first."
"Rekindling the Fire Seed of civilization doesn't necessarily violate my principles."
"And the price?" The Doctor stared into Vera's eyes.
"Cost?"
"For us, it's just a matter of putting in a little more effort and time."
Vera went to the window and gazed at the city she had changed.
"I don't understand why we came into this world. Maybe some beings want to have some fun with us?"
"If they wanted to see me struggle in pain, then those bastards are in for a disappointment."
"I once tried to curse someone, but in the end I chose to bless them, even though the result wasn't good."
"But that was when I couldn't interfere. Now, I choose to start over."
"Fate is a son of a bitch, I'm not going to follow its script."
Unable to contain himself, the Doctor asked:
"And what about your script?"
"My Daichi has found true salvation. Doctor, you can rebuild your civilization, and we can return to our homeland."
"The future I hope for is one where everyone can find happiness."
Vera, slightly out of breath after speaking, looked at the Doctor.
"Prophet, what is your answer?"
Suppressing the chaos in his mind, the terrifying hooded figure replied in a Precivilization language:
"I... am willing to Camelot."