[It's not me who's wrong, it's the world.]
Seeing Theresis' cold, indifferent face, a storm of emotions surged through Yoren's mind.
It wasn't him. It wasn't the world.
It was this bastard in front of him.
The rage boiling inside him finally reached its breaking point, shattering all reason. Every misfortune, every disaster—none of it was due to incompetence or bad luck. No. It was all Theresis' fault.
If not for him, Yoren wouldn't have been separated from Vina on their return. The two companions from the Glasgow Gang wouldn't have died. Casey wouldn't have been too late to administer the inhibitor. And if not for Hessen's twisted scheme, he and Vina wouldn't have been infected with oripathy.
He would never have become an infected.
And now, the cause of all his suffering stood before him. Even the most patient man would have lost control. Yoren was never patient to begin with—he'd just been too overwhelmed to act.
There was no surrender. No backing down. No wasting time fighting off the endless wave of super soldiers.
Winning or losing didn't matter anymore. Honestly, he knew he was finished. The situation was beyond hopeless.
Might as well hold onto his dignity at this point.
"Theresis! Fuck you!"
Yoren roared, swinging the empty kettle in his hand and smashing it toward Theresis' head.
"Bang!"
The kettle shattered instantly in Theresis' grip. A moment later, his fist slammed into Yoren's face.
A dull thud.
Yoren flew sideways, crashing headfirst into the wall.
Dizzy and half-conscious, he lay sprawled on the ground. His ears rang. The left side of his face had gone numb.
He couldn't fall here.
Groaning, he turned over, palms pressing against the cold floor as he forced himself up.
Blood dripped from his mouth, splattering onto the ground. Several of his teeth had been knocked loose.
Only now did he realize—Theresis wasn't weak at all. He had only seemed powerless when compared to Vina. Against someone like Yoren, however, his strength was overwhelming.
Before, a punch like that would've knocked Yoren out instantly. But now—now that he was infected—he stayed conscious. Maybe it was the oripathy. His mind had never felt this sharp, this focused. He could sense every wound, every muscle trembling from exhaustion, every nerve screaming in pain.
Yet, somehow, his thoughts had never been clearer.
Footsteps approached.
Yoren lifted his head with difficulty.
"Bang!"
A sharp pain exploded in his gut as Theresis' boot slammed into his stomach, sending him flying again.
"You said you've been looking for me for a long time. Why? Just so I could see you grovel like this?"
Yoren tumbled across the ground like a ragdoll. He felt his ribs crack. His chest heaved, struggling for breath.
"Ugh—!"
A mouthful of blood spewed from his lips.
Theresis strolled up to him, crouching down with a twisted smile.
"What? Nothing to say? You had so much to say before. I remember every single word."
The worst thing in the world was to offend a petty man.
Even worse was to offend a petty man with power.
From any angle, Yoren was the victim here. He had been minding his own business—eating hot pot, singing songs, mining source stones—when suddenly a bunch of crazed infected stormed in. In self-defense, he had thrown a few stones and shouted some insults.
If this had been handled by the police, at most, Yoren would have been told to apologize. Meanwhile, An Ya and his gang would've been locked up for at least fifteen days, maybe even fined.
For the first time in his life, Yoren truly hated someone.
He lay on the ground, glaring up at Theresis from the corner of his eye. Blood smeared his teeth as he forced out a few hoarse words.
"Theresis… fuck you."
"Bang!"
Theresis' fist crashed into his waist.
Yoren convulsed, his mouth gaping open in a silent scream, his expression contorted in agony.
"Say that again."
"Theresis… I… fuck you."
"Bang!"
A savage kick sent Yoren slamming against the wall.
Taking slow, deliberate steps forward, Theresis grabbed a fistful of Yoren's hair and yanked him upright.
His voice was a low, venomous whisper.
"You look pissed. You must be thinking, 'Why me? What did I ever do to deserve this?' You must be wondering what I gain from this, why I'm making you suffer."
Blood dribbled from Yoren's mouth. He stared at Theresis, silent.
Theresis leaned in, his lips brushing against Yoren's ear.
"Fine, I'll tell you. The pain you're feeling right now? The injustice? I've felt it a thousand times over. Ordinary people like you have always tried to drive me away. They took everything from me—money, status, family, friends. If they could, they would have strangled me in my sleep and burned my body to erase the risk of oripathy."
His voice trembled with madness.
"Pain? Hatred? Get used to it. Now that you're infected, this is your life. Your suffering has only just begun."
Yoren hung limp in his grip, his body broken.
He understood.
Theresis had taken every injustice he had ever suffered, twisted it into pure hatred, and now he was taking it out on people like Yoren—paying it back a hundred times over. And now that Yoren himself was infected, Theresis was reveling in his misery.
Yoren understood.
From the perspective of an ordinary man or an infected, he had seen this story play out countless times before. If he had to judge who was right and who was wrong…
He would only say—
Yoren stared at Theresis and forced out a few trembling words.
"I don't give a fuck."
Theresis frowned. "What did you say?"
A bloody grin stretched across Yoren's face. With the last of his strength, he roared—
"I said...I DON'T GIVE A FUCK! THERESIS!...FUCK...YOU-"
"Bang!"
Theresis slammed his head into the corner.
The impact was brutal. Yoren's head cracked against the hard surface. His consciousness wavered. And then, at last, it faded.
"Bang!"
His head struck a cluster of black and white Originium.
With a crisp snap, the delicate crystals shattered. Two fragments fell beside him—one black, one white.
Theresis loomed over Yoren's unconscious form, his face unreadable. Then, with a cruel smirk, he reached down, seized Yoren's throat, and pinned him beneath his weight.
"You've got guts, kid. I was going to let you live—let you suffer as an infected. But now, I've changed my mind."
Theresis picked up the black Originium shard, pried Yoren's mouth open, and shoved it inside.
His laughter rang through the night.
"Aren't you afraid of mineral sickness? Good. Then eat your fill!"
"Aren't you afraid of mineral sickness? Well, I'll let you eat your fill now!"
Theresis picked up the black Originium bush and shoved it brutally into Yoren's throat.
"Eat it and feel the Originium decomposing in your body. Hahaha!"
Theresis laughed maniacally, pressing the jagged cluster down with all his strength.
Yoren felt his throat tear apart, the pain searing through his body. He couldn't react. His vision blurred, and his consciousness wavered. He squeezed his eyes shut, slipping into what seemed like unconsciousness.
He understood now—the world had collapsed, and the hearts of its people had twisted beyond recognition. The agony he suffered wasn't an exception. It was routine. This world devoured hope and left only suffering in its wake.
One step into this abyss had shattered him. And yet, those like the Operators of Rhodes Island had been trapped in this nightmare from the moment they were born.
Vina, Winter, Turtle, Eyjafjalla, Texas, Lappland, Red, Franka, Razer, Rose, Amiya... even Talulah and Frost Nova of the Integration Movement.
All of them had been fighting for survival since birth. Everything they held dear could be taken in an instant. The only difference between them and the dead was luck.
The unbearable pain ripping through Yoren's body sharpened his mind.
In that moment, he grasped the truth of this world.
A world ruled by greed, where people justified their crimes and called them necessity.
He had only two choices.
Either be consumed by this world—or change it.
If he had the power, he would break this world's rules and rebuild them.
Bang!
Theresis' fist smashed into Yoren's chin. The Originium cluster in his mouth shattered along with his teeth. Blood sprayed across Theresis' wild, grinning face.
"Eat it! Eat it!"
Jagged shards sliced through his throat, carving into his esophagus. His stomach twisted in agony as he coughed, blood and saliva spilling from his mouth.
The more Yoren suffered, the more unhinged Theresis became. He picked up another white Originium cluster from the ground and forced it into Yoren's mouth.
"Mmmph!"
Yoren struggled weakly, twisting his neck, but it was useless.
"Hahaha! How does it taste?" Theresis sneered, forcing the cluster deeper, shoving it until Yoren's throat could take no more. The jagged stone lodged itself inside him.
Yoren's body went still.
His eyes widened, pupils rolling back like a corpse's.
Theresis pressed two fingers against Yoren's neck.
No pulse.
"Tsk. Thought you'd last longer."
With a sigh, he wiped the blood off his face, smearing it onto Yoren's torn clothes.
He never noticed the shift.
A faint black mist curled across Yoren's skin. Tiny, branching veins, dark as ink, began spreading through his left eye. The delicate web of black threads thickened, coiling outward like a living thing, forming strange patterns around his iris.
A chill ran through Theresis' spine.
His breath hitched. A strange, suffocating presence filled the air—something beyond death itself.
Instinct screamed at him to run.
He scanned the room, searching for the source of the dreadful aura. The floor was empty.
Yet the feeling only grew stronger, pressing against his chest like a phantom hand.
And then—
He looked down at Yoren.
Yoren's consciousness drifted beyond his body. Darkness surrounded him, weightless and infinite. His form was hollow, detached from all sense of self.
Suddenly—
Agony.
It pierced through him, a torment that seemed to claw at his very soul. A searing pain erupted from his heart, tearing through every fiber of his being, like thousands of insects burrowing into his flesh, gnawing from the inside out.
It would consume him.
Just as he teetered on the edge of oblivion, a pale light flickered in his right eye.
The glow swelled, enveloping him in a soft, white radiance.
Shing!
The sharp hum of a blade unsheathing rang in his mind.
A single slash—
And the agony was severed.
The torment vanished, split cleanly in two.
For the first time, there was silence.
Yoren drifted in an ethereal space, weightless, untouched by time.
Then, the visions came.
Fleeting images flashed before him, fragments of a story not his own.
Like the final moments of a dying man, a thousand lifetimes flickered before his eyes—yet none belonged to him.
Scenes warped and shifted like a broken film reel, an absurd narrative playing beyond his control.
A golden stone fell from the heavens, striking the earth.
From that moment, an ancient civilization was born, rising from the dust to shape a world unlike any before.
Time blurred. Cities stretched toward the skies, towering monuments of human ingenuity. A great tower stood at the heart of it all, its peak crowned by a sphere of eternal light.
Technology defied nature. The sun and moon bent to human will. Machines replaced men. Cities lifted from the ground, floating as mobile bastions above the dying world below.
For centuries, civilization flourished.
Yet even the greatest empires are not eternal.
Prosperity gives way to ruin. All things fall.
Then came the stones.
Four descended from the heavens—each a different hue.
Crimson flames. The blue of the Styx. The verdant green of nature. And the twin shades of black and white.
The moment they touched the earth, war ignited.
Devastation swept the land. Divine flames burned city-states to ash. Colossal war machines, armed with unspeakable power, crushed the ground beneath their feet. Skyships blotted out the sun, raining destruction from above.
The world was swallowed in chaos.
Civilians scattered, clutching strange devices to protect themselves from annihilation.
It had taken centuries for mankind to reach its pinnacle.
It took mere moments for it all to crumble.
The black and white stone bore witness to it all. Its power, too, was turned into a weapon of war.
Until, at last, it was shattered.
Time stretched endlessly. How many years had passed?
Yet life found a way to rise again.
New creatures walked the earth, bearing the features of beasts yet the hearts of men.
A new civilization was born.
But with it came the curse of the past.
The end of everything.