Now
Upon emerging from a dense forest and crossing a valley scarred with bomb craters, the dilapidated town at the edge of the riverbank is soon visible.
All kinds of buildings were built in concentric rings around a broken-down CPF. Shrouded in mist, the structures sway in the haze like mirages in a desert, their outlines impossible to discern clearly.
This is the "Satellite City". The Carthaki radiation zone is across the river.
Carthaki Satellite City
3 vials of serum, 5 magazines of 7.62mm full-power cartridges, a mix of AP and API bullets... Here you go, Boss—
Under the dim light, Zhang slowly brings the supply cart to a stop in front of Jagienka, carrying with him all the provisions she requested.
Thanks.
Jagienka sits atop a stack of wooden crates in the warehouse, meticulously cleaning her weapon components with the rag in her hand.
You won't end up getting court-martialed by Babylonia for giving me these supplies, will you?
Surely not. We're short on people, not weapons, and... our relationship with the government isn't that tense yet. They won't arrest me over something this minor.
Jagienka raises an eyebrow, her expression complex, as she resumes reassembling her weapon.
During the years I've been gone... has the World Government been mistreating you all?
Mistreating... Not really. Babylonia's been fairly respectful toward us. Besides changing our flag and sending inspectors every now and then, they leave everything else to the Carthakians themselves. Nothing has changed.
In other words, they've left the Carthakian people stranded outside the radiation zone for years without offering any help at all.
Well, nothing's easy these days...
Zhang leans against the cart and sighs.
Due to wartime restrictions, there's hardly any migration here. We don't have much in the way of food or clothing, but we're not starving to death either. Just scraping by, you know?
I used to daydream about traveling back to ancient times as a kid. With all our advanced technology, I thought we could surely change the past and usher humanity into the Golden Age early.
What, were you planning to airdrop 10000 Scouts to some emperor so he could strangle the Punishing Virus in its crib?
What I mean is, it wasn't until I actually started rebuilding with absolutely nothing that I realized how naive those fantasies were.
We have land but no seeds. We have tractors and separators, but they're all piled up here as useless scrap metal because we can't get our hands on any oil and fuel.
He glances toward the inside of the warehouse.
No one's farming, mining rare earth minerals, smelting metal, making rivets... Modern industry is like a net: the entire system collapses if one strand breaks.
It's only now that I realize how complex and precious our once-ordinary modern lives truly were. Without resource exchange within a larger collective, no small community can survive on its own.
I even think that's the most terrifying thing about the Punishing Virus. It has destroyed the connections between people, stranded us on isolated islands, and erased the very foundations of civilization.
...Where did you pick up all this fancy talk? Look at you. So eloquent and sentimental now.
The world is the harshest teacher you'll ever have.
Zhang says with a smile, scratching his head.
Now that I've taken your supplies, is there anything I can help you with in return?
Oh, no need to trouble yourself, Boss. We can handle the problems in the Satellite City ourselves. You... have your own matters to attend to, no?
He indicates the letter.
We've all heard about your reputation over these years, Boss... The legendary "Ranger" of the Forsaken. You must have other important business to attend to.
The Rangers are a small military group under the Forsaken. Its members, comprised mostly of elite Constructs and exceptionally skilled humans, patrol the borders of infected areas to rescue refugees and guide them to "Oasis".
This is who Jagienka is nowadays.
...I received that letter from Nirvatia a few days ago. She mentioned that the Great Akdilek Explosion might be connected to Margaret and the Ascendant somehow.
I was sent here to investigate the matter, but the radiation zone began to spread the moment I arrived.
The A-Ascendant? What did Nirvatia say?
We didn't get into details. The letter was full of riddles, so the commander was going to ignore her, but...
—Who's there?!
Detecting nearly imperceptible footsteps behind her, Jagienka suddenly spins around and raises her gun.
Long time no see, Jagienka.
A haggard, towering figure slowly emerges from the shadows.
C-Commander Li? How did you...
This is my city. Nothing you people do escapes my notice.
Including, of course, the whereabouts of a certain Ranger.
His demeanor remains imposing as ever, but his voice now carries a weight and weariness that weren't there before.
My old instructor. You still talk like someone asking for a punch to the face.
I'm retired from that role now. It's "Commander" these days.
Jagienka can still see that same bottomless arrogance when she looks into his eyes after all these years.
I overheard what you were saying, Ranger. You've got a mission to complete, so when do you plan to leave?
That depends on whether Carthaki still welcomes me. The situation here is more complicated than I expected. I need to gather more intel first.
Come with me, then.
With hands clasped behind his back, he turns and walks away, his polished leather shoes clicking rhythmically against the cement floor.
Where are we going?
You've been gone for a while. I thought you might like to reacquaint yourself with your hometown.
A thick mist hangs low, filling the air with the scent of damp earth. The gray sky presses down on the town and land below, creating a heavy, deathly stillness like a lead-filled coffin.
Jagienka trudged through the muddy streets, surrounded by buildings both familiar and foreign. Refugee tents stretched to the horizon, sprouting like fungi around rotting wood, encircling the already-crumbling structures.
Those with ration tickets, come this way! You get one ladle per person! Maintain order!
Refugees from outside regions form a long queue in front of the large pot of porridge, most looking disheveled and devoid of hope. Some wear tattered clothes, while others are dressed in bloodstained military uniforms.
Ugh... Hurk! This damn fog is driving me insane!
Hang in there... We're running low on serum too...
The serum doesn't work! Nothing works! Please, just saw it off... I can't... I can't bear the pain anymore!
The locals are doing everything they can, offering what little they have to care for the refugees. But despair continues to spread under the influence of the Red Mist, consuming what little patience everyone has left.
Jagienka's brow furrows as she senses it: this city has been pushed beyond its breaking point.
With this many refugees, your soldiers won't last five minutes if civil unrest breaks out, based on my experience.
The Carthaki Satellite City has exactly 2832 residents, but in the past 24 hours, we've taken in over 2000 refugees and routed soldiers.
And almost simultaneously, the Corrupted launched attacks from both the east and south. We pushed them back, but at tremendous cost.
Just holding the outer defenses is stretching us to the limit with our current forces. With the enemy at our gates, I can't spare more guns to watch these people. I have no choice but to place my utmost trust in them.
I'd rather die by the hand of a human than be torn apart by those mindless machines.
He brushes the dust from his coat as he lays out his realistic assessment.
Are your production lines sufficient to sustain 4000 people? Resource conflicts will inevitably erupt with everyone trapped in here. You won't need to wait for the machines to find you then.
Heh, your assessment is correct. And even without internal strife, the Red Mist will devour us sooner or later.
That's why I'm mustering our forces to fight our way out and to break through the Corrupted's encirclement.
Trying to orchestrate a mass exodus of 4000 people right under the nose of the Punishing Virus... Do you even have 400 soldiers? Who do you think you are? Spartacus?
When it comes to disaster relief and rescue operations, the Rangers have far more experience than I do.
He stops in his tracks and turns to Jagienka.
Everyone in our team has a different role. Do I strike you as the one who babysits?
Jagienka, it's not just the Babylonians who are trapped in this city. The 3000 Carthakians are your people too.
I belong to the Forsaken. This isn't my home... at least not anymore, sir.
If we succeed, it would at least prove that the Oasis is more dependable than Babylonia in times of crisis.
Once the seeds of trust are planted, I guarantee that whenever the Forsaken needs assistance, Carthaki will be ready to bloom for you. How does that sound?
...
Jagienka clicks her tongue, her head lowered as she twirls a strand of hair around her finger.
I have other matters to attend to. I need to find Marga...
BOOM—
Suddenly, a piercing explosion shatters the air. The crowd freezes, their confused gazes turning toward the southern gate.
From the direction of the gunfire, countless angry voices erupt into a chaotic uproar, growing more intense by the second.
In an instant, Jagienka and Commander Li exchange glances, grab their weapons, and rush toward the commotion.
Cold winds swirl around the crumbling watchtower where a massive crowd has gathered. Their shouting rises like crashing waves against the soldiers' defensive line.
Get back! Anyone who crosses this checkpoint is a deserter! I have the authority to execute you on the spot!
The soldier at the front line shouts until his voice grows hoarse. Sweat slides down the edge of his steel helmet, dripping onto his white-knuckled finger resting on the trigger guard.
You've run out of meds here! She's been burning with fever for almost three days. Without a tetanus shot... she'll die!
The man leading the crowd carries an unconscious young girl in his arms. Like a maddened bull, he charges against the grim wall of people before him.
The outside is crawling with Corrupted! We risked everything to save you ungrateful bastards, and less than half of us made it back alive!
Seemingly overcome with emotion, the soldier suddenly pulls the trigger, firing a shot into the sky.
This is your final warning! Don't force me to shoot you!
He takes a deep breath and points the smoking barrel at the crowd. The clamor before him suddenly falls silent.
The two opposing currents of humans freeze in a standstill. Anger and confusion simultaneously etch across every face.
At that moment, the thin, stifled cry of a baby rises from the center of the crowd. Like a silver needle dropping to the floor, it shatters all silence and hesitation.
Come on then! Do it! Kill us all if you've got the guts!
FIRE!!!
At that very moment, a figure darts forward, positioning herself between the two opposing groups.
Easy, soldier.
Just as the guard is about to pull the trigger, Jagienka precisely slips her hand between his palm and the weapon.
In one fluid motion, she removes the magazine and slide stop with a click before gripping the barrel with a sharp twist and pulling—
With a crisp metallic scrape, the soldier's weapon falls apart like a set of building blocks. The entire sequence takes less than the blink of an eye.
Under the stunned gaze of both sides, Jagienka slowly opens her right hand, letting the barrel clatter to the ground.
Control yourself. Point your gun at enemies, not your own people.
W-who the hell are you?!
A Carthakian who left home.
She turns around, looking at the young girl in the refugee's arms.
How old is she?
Just turned sixteen.
...
She isn't sure when it started, but whenever she sees children this age, she can't help but think of her younger self.
Or certain people, and certain moments from her past.
Jagienka gently touches the girl's cheek, feeling the scorching heat against her fingertips as if touching a stone pulled from fire. Her brow furrows slightly.
Those moves of yours... I've never seen you before. Where did you come from?!
Drop your weapons and submit to inspection!
That won't be necessary. She's one of us.
An authoritative voice emerges from deep within the crowd.
Recognizing the newcomer's identity, the crowd instinctively parts to create a path.
C-Commander? But she...
Commander Li raises his hand slightly, cutting the soldier's protest short.
You're "one of us" now, aren't you, Jagienka?
...If you've heard of the Rangers' exploits, then you surely know my services don't come cheap, sir.
Jagienka surveys the unease written across every face in the crowd, exhales deeply, and tucks Nirvatia's letter into the deepest part of her backpack.
When it's time to settle up, you might have to sell that fancy car of yours.
Whatever it takes.
Looking at you being so generous now. In that case, I want the one that has the turbo up front and shoots fire out the back.
Commander Li silently removes a set of keys from his belt and tosses them to Jagienka.
Which one is it?
He shrugs and gives a light chuckle.
They're all yours now.
