"Cough!"
"Cough!"
Romani raised his arm to cover his mouth as another cough escaped him. Smoke lingered in the air, stinging his eyes. Through the haze, he could see Kiana ahead of him, still carrying that absurdly massive bag as if it weighed nothing.
"Phew! Doctor, don't worry—we're almost at our shelter," Kiana called back cheerfully.
"Just hang on a little longer!"
"Doctor?" Romani raised an eyebrow.
Kiana scratched the back of her head, laughing awkwardly.
"I mean, you are a doctor. And calling you 'Mister' or 'Mr. Romani' feels kinda stiff… so 'Doctor' sounds better. Plus, you're technically one!"
"I… see…" Romani shook his head, half-amused.
Despite the streets being crowded with wandering corpses, Kiana moved with uncanny ease—turning corners at the perfect moments, darting through narrow paths, always just out of reach. It was as if the city itself was familiar territory to her.
Before long, they stopped in front of a quiet building.
"Tok! Tok! Tok!"
Kiana knocked lightly on the door.
"Mei! Bronya! Open up! This bag is super heavy, and I think my shoulder's about to give up!"
Heavy… Romani glanced at the bag again.
By any reasonable definition, that thing should be crushing her.
"Something wrong, Doctor?" Kiana asked, turning back when she noticed his stare.
"Ah—no. Just… curious how you're able to carry something like that so easily."
"Ohhh, I get it!" She puffed out her chest proudly and pointed at herself.
"The Kaslana family are warriors! And I'm a Kaslana! Therefore I'm strong! Hence—I am Kiana Kaslana!"
"I see… that is amazing." Romani clapped politely.
Kiana beamed, clearly basking in the praise.
The door opened.
A girl with long violet hair and gentle eyes stepped out first, wearing a uniform similar to Kiana's. Warmth radiated from her presence alone.
"Kiana, welcome back," she said softly.
"Kyaa~ Mei!" Kiana immediately threw herself into the girl's arms, hugging her tightly and shamelessly inhaling her scent.
"H-Hey, Kiana—!" Mei stiffened, flustered but clearly used to this behavior.
Romani's gaze then drifted downward.
Standing beside Mei was a smaller girl with silver hair styled into drill-like twin tails. Her expression was calm—almost emotionless. She wore a brown jacket, short pants, and mechanical legs that gleamed faintly in the light.
Kiana mentioned her… Bronya.
"Subject Kiana has returned safely," the silver-haired girl said flatly.
Then her eyes shifted to Romani.
"And… welcome."
Romani straightened slightly and offered a polite nod.
"Thank you. I'm Romani—Romani Archaman. It's a pleasure to meet you."
The shelter door closed behind them.
For the first time since waking in this ruined city, Romani felt something unfamiliar settle in his chest.
Safety.
For now, he was safe—and that alone was more than he could ask for.
Romani slowly turned his head, taking in his surroundings. A worn sofa. A small stove. An office chair pushed beside a desk cluttered with old papers.
If these memories serve me right… he thought, this place used to be an office.
The brief glance did not go unnoticed.
"Doctor, what are you looking at?"
Bronya's monotone voice cut through the air, making Romani flinch slightly.
"Oh—" He smiled awkwardly, scratching his cheek. "N-nothing in particular. Just… checking the hideout."
"Hn. Da Bronya understands." She nodded once, as if the matter were settled.
…What exactly did you understand? Romani wondered, a bead of sweat forming at his temple.
He truly couldn't grasp how her mind worked. Still, he chose to stay silent.
He looked at them again.
Kiana talking animatedly.
Mei responding gently.
Bronya standing quietly nearby
They spoke as if the world outside hadn't already collapsed.
Romani clenched his fist.
It wasn't envy—at least, not entirely. He envied their ease, their ability to speak and laugh despite everything. But deeper than that was something heavier.
Powerlessness.
His strength was gone.
The weight of uselessness pressed down on him far harder than he had expected.
If only…
If only my strength were still here… I could protect them.
His teeth dug into his lip until blood welled.
Yet even that pain was nothing compared to the ache in his chest—the memory of corpses shambling through the streets, of a world rotting while he could do nothing but watch.
For the first time, Solomon—once a king, once a god—felt truly small.
"Doctor, is something wrong?"
Bronya's sudden, monotone voice snapped Romani out of his thoughts.
"Your lips—there is bleeding," she stated calmly.
"Da Bronya recommends treating it with medicine to reduce the risk of infection."
"Oh, it's fine." Romani waved his hand lightly. "I just bit my lip a little too hard."
He shake his hand dismissively.
"…Da Bronya understands." She nodded once.
"If the Doctor has questions, Bronya is available. Bronya will do her best to provide answers."
"Oh." Romani hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
"Well, for starters… do you know what happened to this city?"
"No." Bronya shook her head.
"However—hypothesis: prior to the incident, a bright pink light engulfed Bronya. When Bronya regained consciousness, the world had already deteriorated into its current state."
She paused briefly, then continued.
"Conclusion: that pink light is likely the primary cause of this disaster."
Romani fell silent, his hand resting against his chin.
"A pink light…" he murmured.
That aligns far too well with what I've seen before.
"I see. If that's true, then the energy behind it must be terrifying."
"And," Bronya continued, unfazed,
"aside from the light, Project Mei, Project Kiana, and Bronya were pursued by an unknown entity."
Romani looked up.
"It was tall," Bronya described evenly,
"covered in white armor-like plating. White luminescent patterns flowed across its body."
She tilted her head slightly.
"Theory: it was a mutation."
Romani's eyes narrowed.
"…Or something far worse," he said quietly.
Bronya did not respond immediately. Instead, she simply observed him—quietly.
Romani continued to ponder. Ever since he arrived here, his mind had been constantly occupied—no longer drifting aimlessly like before, but calculating, planning what to do next.
It's better to remain cautious than to live comfortably amid destruction, he thought.
Suddenly, a scent reached his nose.
"Doctor, are you alright? Here—ramen. You should fill your stomach for now."
A gentle voice cut through the air. Romani looked up.
Before him stood Mei. Her violet hair flowed softly over her shoulders as she held out a cup of ramen, concern clearly written on her face.
"A-ah… ahem. Thank you, Miss Mei." Romani accepted it with both hands, and Mei responded with a gentle smile.
"No, it should be me who's grateful, Doctor. Thank you for taking care of Kiana. She can be a handful, but she's a good kid."
"Hm… not really." Romani shook his head slightly.
"I didn't do much. If anything, it was Kiana who took care of me."
Even so, Mei's expression remained warm. Romani could only smile wearily before lifting the cup and sipping the broth. Warmth spread through his body, easing the tightness in his chest—if only a little.
"Also…" he spoke after a pause, glancing between them,
"why are you two suddenly calling me 'Doctor'?"
"Eh?" Mei tilted her head in confusion.
"Well… Kiana said you're a doctor. And calling you 'Mister' or 'Mr. Romani' sounded too stiff, so 'Doctor' felt more natural."
Romani let out a small, awkward chuckle.
"I appreciate the confidence," he said gently, "but I'm not officially a doctor yet."
Mei blinked once, then smiled again—soft, understanding.
"Even so," she replied, "someone who studies medicine and chooses to help others… that's already worthy of the title."
Romani did not answer right away.
The steam rising from the cup blurred his vision for a moment, carrying with it a warmth that felt almost foreign—unfitting for a world that had already collapsed. He lowered his eyes, watching the broth ripple faintly.
"…You're too kind," he finally said, his voice soft. "Kindness like that is dangerous in times like these."
Mei paused, then shook her head lightly.
"Maybe. But if we lose that kindness, then we really won't have anything left."
From the sofa, Kiana perked up.
"Exactly! If the world's already gone crazy, then being nice is like—our last superpower!" She struck a pose, puffing out her chest. "And I've got tons of it!"
"…That is not a quantifiable ability," Bronya commented flatly.
"Eeeh?! Bronya, you're so mean!"
Their bickering filled the room with a strange, fragile liveliness. Romani watched them in silence. Laughter, irritation, normal conversation—things that should not exist in a ruined city—yet here they were, clinging stubbornly to life.
They're strong, he realized. Not just physically.
His fingers tightened around the cup.
"Doctor." Bronya's voice broke his thoughts again. "If the bright light is the cause of the disaster, then hypothesis: it may happen again. Question—what will the doctor do if that occurs?"
The room quieted.
Romani slowly exhaled, setting the cup down on the table. For the first time since arriving, his expression hardened—not with fear, but resolve.
"If it happens again…" he said carefully,
"then I'll observe it. Analyze it. And if possible—stop it."
Kiana blinked. "Stop it? Like, the whole disaster thing?"
"Yes," Romani replied simply.
Mei's brows knit together. "That's… extremely dangerous."
"I know." He met her gaze. "But if no one tries, then this world has already lost."
Silence followed.
Then Kiana grinned—wide and fearless.
"Well, in that case," she said, slinging her arms behind her head, "Guess you're not doing it alone anymore, Doctor. Heroes don't work solo!"
Bronya nodded once. "Acknowledged. Cooperation increases survival probability."
Mei hesitated… then smiled, her eyes firm.
"We'll help however we can."
Romani looked at them—really looked at them—and for the first time since waking in this broken world, the crushing weight in his chest eased.
"…Thank you," he said quietly.