The Doctor's tone grew somber as she laid out her perspective. A heavy silence settled over the office, leaving everyone disinclined to speak. The group sat in quiet contemplation, sipping their bitter tea.
"Come on now, let's liven things up a bit," the Doctor said, attempting to break the suffocating atmosphere. "Sitting here without a word makes it look like the sky is falling. Your total silence is getting rather awkward!"
"We're just lost in thought, that's all," Jeanne replied, leaning comfortably against the chair. "Though you do raise a fair point. Lately, it feels as though policies regarding the infected are tightening across several regions."
Jeanne was already familiar with the intelligence reports the Doctor had referenced. During a recent communication with Talulah, she had learned that infected groups in various areas were desperately seeking Reunion's support.
In fact, several factions had begun operating under Reunion's banner without authorization—a chaotic development that had given Talulah endless headaches.
"Because of Reunion's success, foreign powers and various factions have taken a sudden interest in the infected," Alina explained softly, her voice tinged with sadness. "They dangle the promise of a nomadic city to recruit infected laborers. And many infected, desperate for a decent life, eagerly accept those offers."
"As a result, multiple violent uprisings have broken out in various regions," Alina continued. "The infected are attempting to seize what they long for through force—a nomadic city to call their own."
It was a bittersweet realization: had Reunion's successful precedent inspired hope, or had it accidentally opened a Pandora's box of desperate, chaotic rebellions?
"And what was the outcome?" Jeanne asked. Though she could already guess the answer, she prayed silently that those infected had not met a tragic end.
"Suppression, naturally," the Doctor answered grimly. "No nation tolerates those who attempt to seize control of a nomadic city, especially when no one stands up to advocate for them on the political stage."
The Doctor handed her Terminal to Jeanne, displaying a report from Columbia. A major infected uprising had been crushed by government forces.
Over six hundred infected involved in the incident were stripped of their citizen rights and banished into the wilderness. For those survivors, grueling labor in hazardous wasteland territory was their sole chance at survival—only by extracting valuable resources could they ever hope to regain basic status. Otherwise, their standing remained worse than that of stray animals.
Further down the screen were reports of sudden violent outbreaks attributed to "Reunion" across multiple territories. In several districts, supermarkets and shopping centers had been bombed and looted clean.
Jeanne's expression darkened. She knew with complete certainty that no genuine Reunion commander would lead infected into petty robbery, nor would Talulah ever authorize such criminal actions.
These were independent, desperate groups of infected acting out of lawless greed, flying Reunion's banner simply to rally numbers and shift blame.
"You need to make a formal public stance," the Doctor warned gently after Jeanne finished reading. "If this continues, people who don't know the truth will hold Reunion responsible for every atrocity committed in your name."
"I understand. We will handle this," Jeanne replied quietly, returning the Terminal. "And... I am deeply sorry that things have turned out this way."
The Doctor slid the Terminal back, choosing not to highlight a third report on the screen—a incident where a rogue group claiming to be Reunion had launched an assault on a Rhodes Island outpost in Kazimierz. Fortunately, Elite Operators on site had subdued the intruders without casualties.
"There's no need to apologize. Those people weren't yours," the Doctor assured her, tapping the screen. "According to our operator's field interrogation, not a single one of those attackers had any actual connection to Reunion."
"I had hoped that having an organization speak up for the infected might encourage solidarity," Jeanne offered a wry, bitter smile. "It seems I was far too optimistic about human nature."
Their worst fears were coming to pass: opportunistic bad actors were using Reunion's name to commit vile acts, smearing the reputation they had fought so hard to build.
"Reunion has already dispatched cadres to the affected regions," Alina interjected, monitoring her incoming messages. "Our representatives are investigating the incidents firsthand, and we've already cleared our name in several local districts."
"I'm aware of your efforts," the Doctor noted softly. "I'm merely raising a caution. Unlike us, the general public doesn't dig for hidden evidence—they believe whatever they see with their own eyes."
While those inside the room understood Reunion's true principles, ordinary citizens who had suffered losses in the riots wouldn't be so discerning.
"Leave this to Talulah," Jeanne said firmly, her expression turning resolute. "She may feel overwhelmed initially, but she will find a decisive way to clear our name and address the root cause."
For Jeanne and Alina, this was no minor matter. Where the safety and reputation of the infected were concerned, even the smallest issue demanded total seriousness.
"I hope so. I have full faith in your leadership," the Doctor sighed, leaning back and raising her tea cup like a wine goblet. "Let's leave politics aside for a moment and finish our tea."
"If you need assistance, don't hesitate to reach out," the Doctor added. "Rhodes Island's intelligence network covers more ground than Reunion's current reach. When it comes to protecting the infected, our cooperation remains vital—"
BEEP—
"Will Lady Jeanne please report to the medical laboratory immediately—"
Kal'tsit's sharp, authoritative voice echoed through the landship's public address system. Hearing the broadcast, the Doctor instinctively bolted out of her chair and sprinted five meters down the corridor before freezing in her tracks.
"Ah... haha! Reflexes took over," the Doctor laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of her head. "Let's move! Kal'tsit using the main broadcast system means it's urgent. Hopefully, she has good news for us."
When the group arrived at the medical research wing, they found a dense crowd gathered outside. In addition to medical personnel, off-duty operators and patients waiting for consultations had assembled to see what was happening.
An overhead broadcast from Dr. Kal'tsit was a rare event. Even those without direct involvement had gathered out of sheer curiosity.
Seeing Jeanne approach, operators who recognized her quickly parted to make way. Others, spotting the Doctor leading the group, respectfully stepped aside as well.
Before anyone could ask questions, the heavy reinforced doors of the main lab slid open.
"What is everyone doing standing around out here?" Kal'tsit's stern voice cut through the corridor. "I explicitly stated that all access corridors must remain clear. Disperse immediately. If there are results to announce, an official report will be issued."
Noticing the complex, intense expression on Kal'tsit's face, the onlookers scattered like startled birds.
"Step inside," Kal'tsit said, turning to Jeanne, Alina, and the Doctor. "I'll explain the situation as we walk."
She reached out and gripped Jeanne's hand with unusual urgency, pulling her directly into the cleanroom.
Witnessing Kal'tsit's uncharacteristic composure break, the three travelers exchanged glances. Either the trial had suffered a catastrophic failure, or they were about to witness a monumental breakthrough.
"Our clinical trials have yielded extraordinary preliminary results," Kal'tsit explained rapidly as they moved down the sterile hallway. "However, we have exhausted our current sample testing supply. I need you to create another batch of neutralized Originium for us immediately."
"You used up the entire batch already?" Jeanne asked in surprise. She had left behind nearly fifty kilograms of processed stone fragments during her last visit, assuming it would last the research team for months.
"In our initial baseline trials, we consumed more material than anticipated to determine the compound's reactivity limits," Kal'tsit admitted, her voice tight with focus. "We suddenly find ourselves completely out of raw testing material. Please."
Kal'tsit's expression was grave, illuminated by a brilliant, desperate hope—a possibility she had pursued her entire life.
The inner laboratory doors hissed open. Resting on the central containment platform were several pristine slabs of pure Prime Originium, glowing with a vibrant, amber light.