Chapter 1465 (2/2)

When she had been standing in the arena, that realization that she had been pointlessly responsible for such suffering in Zone 1 had hit her with such force that she had lost consciousness. Her grip on reality had slipped as some of her fundamental premises were challenged. Yet she had awoken now, crippled and injured as she was, and felt a lot more at peace than she had in the past.

“Image, huh…” Theodora said, carefully lifting her right arm off of the bed. Her fingers spasmed intermittently and the exercise seemed to light her right shoulder on fire, but it was somehow satisfying to reach toward the ceiling. She had been impeached she had used her body to the point that it seemed like even the System couldn’t heal her wounds. The only emotion her grand ‘rival’ felt for her was pity.

Yet she still lived. She could still reach. She still had things she wanted to accomplish.

Weirdly, she wanted a vanilla pudding. She hadn’t had a pudding cup in years.

The door to her room opened. And a rather large and strangely shaped man walked into the darkened interior. For a few seconds, Theodora couldn’t tell if her vision was worse than she thought or whether the man was partially a crustacean. It turned out that it was the latter.

The man sat next to her bed. “President Greyman, I’m glad to see you have recovered your consciousness. How are you feeling?”

“Former president. Just call me Theodora.” Theodora corrected, almost absently. Then her gaze sharpened somewhat. This man didn’t seem like he was associated with the Order Ducis or Zone 1. So why was she lying here…? But that wasn’t her primary concern. “How is Richter?”

“Recovering well down the hall. His body acclimated to this… Nether much more ably than yours.” The man said as he shifted his giant claw. “We believe it’s because he could establish a closed system within his legs to contain the… corrosion that results from this energy being allowed free reign. Meanwhile…”

“Meanwhile, I acted with no regard to the consequences,” Theodora confirmed, thinking about more than just the Nether in her body. She could feel the truth of her culpability in the subtle wheezing of her breathing. There was suddenly an inherent frailty to her body that she hadn’t experienced since the System arrived. But in away, that frailty was reassuring. It felt extremely real. This was what it meant to be human.

This was it meant to be an orphan.

With a lot of effort, Theodora turned her head to the side and looked at the strange figure more directly. This man possessed the head and arm of a crab; he must have been one of those affected by Thomas Karmin’s experiments. “Also, who might you be? To be blunt, I don’t quite understand why I’m laying here in a dark room right now.”

The man seemed surprisingly hurt by her words. “Ah… I apologize for not introducing myself sooner. My name is Mr. Syllo; I’m a Tier 2 Citizen of Zone 1. I simply believed… well, that your privacy was of the utmost importance. Considering your political position-”

“I don’t have a political position any longer,” Theodora said frankly, and then she began to laugh, which soon turned to another bout of coughing. Truly, she didn’t have anything. She then felt Mr. Syllo activate a Skill and several tendrils of warmth lightly touched her body. Although it couldn’t combat the damage done by Nether directly, it could ease the negative symptoms. Gradually, her coughing settled down and she released a sigh of pleasure.

Congratulations! Your Skill Determined Tenacity (A) has grown to Level 2!

Congratulations! Your Skill Determined Tenacity (A) has grown to Level 3!

I become crippled and all I get in exchange is an almost meaningless Skill… She somehow found herself smiling.

“Thank you for your Skill. Just to confirm, this is the state of my body after all the available methods were used to attempt to reverse the damage done to my body by Nether?” Theodora asked.

For a second, Mr. Syllo was silent. “...all typical methods have been exhausted, yes.”

Theodora’s mouth twitched. For whatever reason, she was having a very hard time resisting the urge to laugh, even though every time she did so, her body was wracked with agony. “And I suppose part of the reason you are here is to offer me an atypical method, yes? Let me guess: it involves the research of Thomas Karmin, moving my mind into a more robust body that might even be superior to my mortal coil.”

This time, Mr. Syllo was entirely silent as he considered her.

So Theodora continued to speak around giggle fueled coughs. “I’m probably angry, right? That- ahem, that I was so obviously defeated, all of my methods blowing up in my face. I probably want someone to blame. I probably need to build a shrine to my rage and mount Randidly Ghosthound’s head atop it. But right now…”

“Why…. why do I always lose to you…?”

“Madam Greyman…We were never competing to begin with.”

A young girl sat in a chair too big for her and mechanically brought a spoonful of vanilla pudding to her lips. She didn’t eat it; she just wiggled the spoon back and forth, watching the pudding shake. The adults in the other room raised their voices.

Congratulations! Your Skill Determined Tenacity (A) has grown to Level 4!

Congratulations! Your Skill Determined Tenacity (A) has grown to Level 5!

“... right now, I just want to find out what these hands of mine can do.” Theodora finished. Then, with a jerky gesture that set Theodora giggling again, she shooed Mr. Syllo away. Her hand looked like the bastard child of a handshake and the frantic movement of someone trying to dislodge a snake. “Thank you for the offer, but I won’t be needing your help, Mr. Syllo.”

After a few seconds of silence, Mr. Syllo stood. “Well, of course, the decision is yours. I’ll let Richter know that you are feeling better.”

I’ll give him this, Theodora thought as she watched the crab man leave. He knows when to withdraw cleanly. His pitch was completely without any glaring flaws. Completely invulnerable to reproach. But you know, Mr. Syllo…

Theodora Greyman closed her eyes. Randidly’s intense emerald gaze was suddenly there once more, seeming to peer into her very soul. Images are becoming dominant not because of the power that is associated with them, although that’s important. Rather, they are becoming dominant because you can finally shape who you really are. Images are vulnerable and genuine. Building that truth for yourself… that’s a powerful thing.

And I want the chance to build who I want to become.