"Wave after wave of doctors tried everything they could, but could not stop the spreading illness. Watching those who had once been their own kind inch toward death was a painful process.
Every day, they had to face corpses. There were fewer and fewer people around to talk to, and it grew quieter and quieter. Apart from coughing and groaning, no other sound could be found.
Until, in the end, cities died, nations died, and even planets died, until no one answered them anymore.
Those who remained could only gaze up at the ruined sky, unable to ask even a single word. [Plague] was born, but the moment Teacher awoke, all he thought of was death.
Looking at the endless remains, Teacher knew clearly that they wanted to live, yet he could only bring death. Teacher knew that these living beings longed for a doctor, but all that reality had brought into being was [Plague].
Teacher watched those civilizations decline, watched the Great Decline Period slowly pass. In the end, he could only put himself into a coffin, afraid that his appearance would bring more disasters.
He still could not forget.
He could not forget everything he had seen at his birth, nor the obsessions that had brought him into being. But he could not become a doctor, and doctors could not save the world either.
So Black Plague wanted life, but also pursued death. One of the two would reveal an answer, finding a measure of hope, or perhaps release, for those who wanted to live, or the Disasters seeking death."
Carrying that distant story with it, Wind-Thunder left Black Plague, its feelings incredibly complicated.
It sounded so contradictory. Its heart had clearly come from those who died, yet its body was the cause of their deaths.
It wanted