The immortal had stayed.
The way she stayed was utterly baffling. She sat at the highest point of the Rhodes Island ship, holding an umbrella as she gazed into the distance, motionless.
That highest point wasn't some facility inside Rhodes Island. It was on the outer hull. She sat on an external radar antenna, sunlight spilling over her as strong winds blew, while Hoshino held her umbrella and her sleeves fluttered in the breeze.
Kal'tsit was already preparing herself for even bigger trouble.
But things often turned out differently than she expected.
That day, she saw Miss Nian causing trouble on the way. She had a briefcase tucked under her arm—who knew where she'd found it—and was hurrying along.
"What are you doing?"
"Clocking in."
Nian walked along normally and clocked in normally at the entrance to the Weapons Department. The screen on the wall displayed Nian's photo—her employee ID photo. She looked flippant, her tongue half out, and utterly brazen.
"Yikes—"
Kal'tsit heard Miss Nian mutter to herself in confusion.
"This won't do. I need to switch it for a more professional photo. Lips pressed together, face square to the camera... Well, it's working hours now. I'll get a new one taken after work."
"..."
"..."
Σ(っ°Д°;)っ
Even if the Doctor had swallowed a boiling kettle whole right in front of Kal'tsit, it wouldn't have shocked her this much.
She had thought nothing could surprise her anymore.
But reality soon proved her wrong. Everything before her made it perfectly clear that even the most stubborn god, one who treated the world like a game, could become as docile as a kitten.
Nian's figure flashed past, and the Weapons Department's doors slammed shut. At last, Kal'tsit was alone in the corridor.
She raised her head and looked at the ceiling.