Chapter 340: The Reunion Movement
"Oh? So you've finally decided what you want to do?"
Steven's eyes lit up at Talulah's words.
She had been wandering aimlessly in her own doubts for so long, but after fighting side by side with the guerrillas, it made sense she would come to a conclusion eventually.
Whatever she planned to do, the important thing was that she had taken the first step—that she now had a will of her own.
Carefully laying the sleeping Alina down on the bed, Steven folded his arms, pulled over his makeshift plastic chair, and settled into it with a look of exaggerated attentiveness.
His gaze fixed on the dragon girl before him, who, despite her usual bravado, looked just a little nervous.
"…I won't be joining the guerrilla fighters." Talulah finally spoke. "What they're doing, I respect. But it isn't enough. Not nearly enough."
She hesitated for a moment, then continued, her voice firm despite the tension in her shoulders.
Patriot and his Shieldguards were worthy of admiration. The guerrillas had poured themselves into protecting the Infected, pushing their ideals to the very limits. But simply doing that was still far from sufficient.
If they truly wanted to save the oppressed, they needed to go further. Much further.
That was the lesson Talulah had drawn from her time with the guerrillas.
Rescuing the oppressed without giving them direction afterward was meaningless—no better than scattering seeds into barren soil.
What the Infected needed most was a goal. A reason to live.
The moment Oripathy sank its fangs into them, the world had stripped away their future. No matter how many the guerrillas saved, what awaited them afterward was still endless despair.
If she wanted to truly save them, to guard them in the truest sense, then she had to give them hope. A tomorrow to cling to. A vision of the future.
Talulah would be the one to lift the torch in the darkness, even if that meant walking the hardest, blackest road herself. She had already accepted that burden. One only had to recall the day she drove the shard of Originium into her own body—choosing to become Infected—to see how absolute her resolve was.
Now, at last, she had a plan of her own.
"The Infected need a future. They need a land to call their own. A place where they can live." Talulah's eyes gleamed, unwavering. "So my goal… is to unite them. Not just in Ursus, but across this entire continent."
"To bring them together, to integrate them into one. And on this cruel, man-eating land, to carve out a home where we can finally stand tall."
"The Infected on this land are not some flock willing to accept oppression," Talulah declared, her voice low but firm. "They have their own feelings, their own hearts… and their own fury."
"After spending so many days among them, I've realized something: I'm not the only one who thinks this way. There are many who share my resolve. That's why I want to unite them, integrate them into one. If we bind ourselves together tightly, if we show every Infected that we do have a future, then countless others will surely join this struggle against oppression."
She drew in a deep breath, finally voicing thoughts she had never shared with anyone—not even Alina.
There were things Alina simply couldn't help her with. But with Steven, it was different.
It was as if nothing in this world could truly trouble him. With him, she could finally speak freely, without restraint.
And trust? That had long since been given.
"So what you mean is…" Steven stroked his chin, summarizing. "You want to create something different from the guerrillas. An organization that brings together every oppressed Infected, and then lead them to establish a land where they can live. That's about right, isn't it?"
"Exactly." Talulah nodded with resolve. "I'll call it… the Reunion Movement."
Her voice carried no hesitation.
She had been preparing this for a long time, even down to the name.
The framework was already forming. Those Infected who gathered around her—they had been ready for this step from the very start.
Steven smiled faintly, but his words carried a sharp edge.
"I understand your reasoning. But tell me honestly—are you sure this isn't just you being crowned by others, forced into the role by the Infected pressing expectations onto you? Is this truly your own will, your own belief… and not something born only out of their influence?"
If her resolve was just the product of being swept along by the will of others, then the Reunion Movement would never last.
From the very moment of its birth, its purpose would already be twisted.
But to his surprise, Talulah simply shook her head.
"Yes, I have witnessed the Infected's suffering. Yes, their experiences have left their mark on me. But this conclusion is my own. This organization… is something I believe is necessary."
Steven crossed his arms, his gaze narrowing. "Do you understand what that means? You want to raise a torch for those walking in darkness and despair—but by doing so, you'll expose yourself to the oppressors more than anyone. You'll become the clearest target of all."
To be the vanguard was worthy of admiration. But it was also the role most likely to be sacrificed.
"Of course I know." Talulah's eyes were steady, unflinching. "This road is one of no return. That's why I'm asking you now… will you stand by me?"
"I don't need you to do anything for me, nor do I need your help," Talulah whispered, her lips curling into a sorrowful yet beautiful smile. "All I want… is for the person I love to support my choice. That alone is enough."
She knew full well what her path would cost her. But to dedicate herself to her ideals—that was her will.
All she hoped was that Steven wouldn't try to stop her.
"Think about it. I've never once complained about you being surrounded by others. Even if you end up with that white rabbit, or someone else altogether… I won't mind. Wasn't it you who said we should live in the moment? So let me be selfish, just this once. What do you think?"
Steven's rare smile faded as her words sank in.
Talulah stepped closer and poured out her true heart to him. At that moment, she no longer looked like the prideful little dragon in his memories, but a figure glowing with almost saint-like radiance.
"I don't agree."
His answer was blunt, cutting through her solemnity like a blade.
No matter how much her words stirred him, no matter how noble her light shone, the Minecrafter expression didn't waver. Like a machine devoid of sentiment, he shook his head.
"So that's it, huh? I couldn't figure out what felt off about you… turns out you've been planning on marching off to your death all along."
"If you'd said this before today, I probably would've told you, 'Fine. I respect your choice. Do whatever you want.' But not anymore."
With a sigh, Steven grabbed the silver-haired dragoness and hauled her straight into his lap. Before she could react, he pushed her down across his knees and landed a sharp smack on her soft, springy rear.
The saintly aura that had just moments ago seemed to radiate from Talulah shattered instantly.
Her tragic determination was ruined in an instant by the indignity of her position. She wriggled furiously in his grip, but compared to the Minecrafter sheer, monstrous strength, she had no hope of escaping.
"You have the gall to tell me I'm supposed to sit back and let you run off to die? I don't know whether you've lost your mind… or if I have."
Steven wasn't holding back—each resounding slap carried weight enough to make the air sting. Yet what Talulah felt more keenly than pain was an unbearable wave of embarrassment.
"I'm not saying I'll help you build your organization. Do whatever you want with this so-called Reunion Movement. That's your business. But if anyone dares to lay a finger on you, they'll have to get my permission first."
He pinned her with his gaze, his voice low and uncompromising. "Remember what you told me? That you owed me so much you didn't know how to repay me? Well, I'll tell you now: pay me with yourself. From this day on, you're mine. I won't allow what's mine to go throwing herself into death. Anyone who tries to hurt you… they'll be hurting me."
When Talulah finally went limp in his arms, giving up her struggles, Steven gave her a few more swats for good measure before straightening her up. He tapped her delicate nose with a finger, leaving her flustered but silent.
"So in other words," she murmured, her face lighting up with unconcealed joy, "you've decided to support me?"
The meaning behind his words was clear now—he understood her plan. More importantly, he accepted it.
"…Whatever. As long as I can keep you safe, that's all that matters."
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Note: Character Illustration is in this Google Drive:
https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1iuyfwNVFHzIi9H4rWNT_lAm7jTSiah_M
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