Watching the necromancers work grew increasingly tedious, and eventually Kano nodded off. She awoke still standing upright, which felt rather odd, but the necromancers were gone. Was there equipment elsewhere that they needed? She’d have thought they’d have all they required in here, but perhaps not. It wasn’t like she knew what the majority of the stuff did, nor did she want to. Seeing Miusvon still sitting in the corner, Kano thought this would be a good chance to reach out to her.

“Hey,” she called, “are you alive?”

There was no response, which wasn’t encouraging as far as Miusvon’s survival went. Oh well, they hadn’t exactly been allies anyway. There wasn’t much chance she’d have helped Kano, even if she could. Not if it involved opposing An. Still, Kano would be a little sad if Miusvon was dead. Even if they didn’t agree as far as An was concerned, she’d seemed like a decent person.

Kano would take her over any of the necromancers she’d met any day, and most other people, for that matter. Her being dead also meant the hard work Kano had done to save her would go to waste, and right now she really wanted something she’d done to work out. Saving someone like her wouldn’t be a bad choice for one of Kano’s last acts of free will either, for whatever that was worth. Kano was thinking about all the different people she’d met and the path her life had taken ever since she’d gotten wind of what Gresitosis was planning, when she was torn from her musings by an alarm blaring in the ceiling.

Had the necromancers screwed something up elsewhere in the citadel? Or was this some third party? Perhaps Himin? Though she could hardly get her hopes up for the ghoul’s intervention. At best, her efforts would probably only amount to hassling the new rulers of the citadel. Then again, even if Himin was incompetent, the necromancers were theoretically vulnerable now.

Assuming she didn’t get controlled like the other ghouls, or like how Kano was being controlled right now, which was possible but unlikely. Kano didn’t know how Werisah was taking over ghouls, but he didn’t seem to have much trouble doing so based on what she’d seen. She was thinking about who else could have caused whatever event had set off the alarm when she heard Miusvon stir. Groaning, she looked around the room until she saw Kano. She pushed herself up out of her chair and staggered her way over, using the walls and furniture along the way to support herself.

“You’re back,” she said, sitting down heavily on the floor in front of Kano. “What happened? What’s happening now?”

“No idea what set off the alarm, but as for what happened before that…” Kano recounted everything she’d experienced since leaving the citadel. Even if Miusvon was technically on An’s side, there didn’t seem much point in hiding information from her.

“You’re a real idiot, you know that?” Miusvon said once Kano had finished.

“And how’s that? I doubt you could have handled the necromancers any better in the same position.”

“Sure I could’ve. I would’ve just shot them both dead before they knew what was happening. But that’s not what I meant.”

“Yeah? Then what did you mean?”

“That you’re an idiot for thinking you know better than An. What have you ever done for the world?”

“Killed a few necromancers, for a start.” Had Miusvon been brainwashed by An somehow? She seemed awfully convinced that what they were doing was right.

“Yeah, great job, by the way,” Miusvon said, her voice practically dripping with sarcasm. “Killing Gresitosis really helped set An’s work back. You could very well have delayed it indefinitely, and then all that would be left would be to wait for the end to come.”

“How can you still believe all this crap?” Kano said. She was outraged and a little melancholy that someone could be so blind, especially when they were so close to what was happening. If Miusvon couldn’t see the evil necromancers were doing, then how was anyone else supposed to? “Weren’t you paying attention when I told you how Werisah was working with Eomonsa? And that they were the ones responsible for getting all the citadel’s ghouls killed? For almost getting you killed?”

“None of that really matters. Whatever you say, I’m sure they had a good reason for it. What’s your problem with necromancers, anyway?”

“What’re you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb. You’ve clearly got an irrational hatred of them.”

Though Kano couldn’t deny that she hated them all on some level, she didn’t think it was the slightest bit irrational. “That’s ridiculous. If I had an irrational hatred of them, I never would have given An a chance. But I did. I was more than fair, given what she is.”

“You say that, but you still ultimately decided to oppose her.”

Kano wanted to tear at her hair in frustration or hit something. How could Miusvon not understand? “That’s because what she’s doing is wrong. How are you not getting that?”

Though she was also getting rather heated, Miusvon crossed her arms and said, “If what she’s doing is so obviously wrong, then explain it to me. Explain exactly what’s so bad about it. It’s not like either of us has anything better to do.”

Kano was getting tired of trying to change Miusvon’s mind and failing, but she was right that there was nothing else to do. She may as well take one last try at it. “Fine.” She paused to collect her thoughts and marshal her arguments.

“Well?” Miusvon said after a few moments, gesturing for Kano to continue.

Now that Kano was actually trying to do so, it was a struggle to come up with concrete evidence to prove her point. Obviously she was right, but she hadn’t known An long enough to speak at length about her motivations and actions. Nor did she understand many of the details of An’s work.

But that didn’t mean she had nothing to work with. Even if she didn’t know that much about An, she was familiar with necromancers in general. And it wasn’t like An was all that different from the others when it came down to it. “I don’t know how much you know about necromancers, but nothing they do ever ends up going well. Not for them or anyone else. Sure, it might sound good in theory, but in practice it just makes the world worse.”

“Okay, assuming what you’re saying about the outcome of their work is true, can you give me some examples?”

“Gresitosis.” Best to start with one they were both familiar with.

“What about him?”

“Doesn’t his work obviously fall into that category? You know just as well as I do how much suffering he brought about.”

“Suffering?” Miusvon asked, sounding genuinely surprised. “I wouldn’t say he brought about any, to be honest. His methods were perhaps flawed, but his work was very promising. Before someone killed him.”

“You can hardly blame me for that. Even if for some reason you think he was better off alive, he was the one who tried to kill me first.”

“And how’s that exactly?”

“He hired the Red Company to get rid of me and Nove so that he’d have an easier time taking over Shorinstown.”

“And? I won’t say you didn’t have some justification for killing him, but it’s a rather flimsy argument for him being in the wrong. He’d have been a much better ruler than Shorin ever was.”

Kano wasn’t sure she could refute that, but that didn’t change the nature of Gresitosis’s work. “Fine. But he was still responsible for creating defenseless ghouls that he killed off for no good reason at all. They’re surprisingly smart for ghouls, but that only makes what he did to them worse.”

Miusvon shrugged. “Like I said, I don’t know if the way he went about it was necessarily the best, but he was trying to create a new channel for natural souls. That has to be worth more than the suffering of a few of his own creations. Assuming they actually suffered at all.”

Finally, they came to the heart of the problem. “Then that’s where our opinions differ. I agree that it might be worth it if he were actually able to create something like that. But he was never going to get that far.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because he was a lunatic. How was he ever going to figure out something so complex? The same goes for all necromancers. Nothing they make ever works properly. That’s largely why the world is the way it is.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Miusvon said, her features twisting into an ugly sneer. “You sound just like a human. Blaming everything on the necromancers without taking the slightest responsibility. Sure, the things they make don’t always work out—”

“They never do,” Kano interjected. “That’s the whole point!”

“But so what? Even if you’re right, it’s not like there’s any other option. Unless you’d prefer extinction, because that’s what we’re looking at otherwise.”

“At this stage I think that would be preferable. Better to slowly fade away and enjoy life where we can than make things worse and probably die out even faster.”

“I can’t believe you’re so pessimistic about this. Would you really rather everyone gave up and accepted their eventual deaths? Why are you so convinced the necromancers’ work will never pay off? They’ve already created plenty of marvels, haven’t they?”

“Marvels” wasn’t exactly how Kano would describe them, but she couldn’t deny that some of their inventions worked. Up to a certain point. “Some of what they’ve made is impressive, sure. But there’re inherent limitations they’ll never get past. Regardless of how clever their plans are, they’ll never be able to actually fix anything.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Because they’ve never made any real progress toward fixing anything. How many years have they had now?” Kano had no idea as to the exact number, but she assumed it must be at least decades, if not centuries. “And what do they have to show for it? A ruined world, where almost everything has died. The necromancers might not be responsible for all of that, but they’re definitely behind most of the recent catastrophes.”

Sighing, Miusvon closed her eyes and massaged the bridge of her nose. “You’re right,” she said, after she opened her eyes. “They have caused more than their share of disasters. Believe me, I know. But it doesn’t change anything. I don’t like helping them or what they do, but there’s just no other choice. It’s that or give up completely.”

Hearing the pain in Miusvon’s voice, Kano got a sense of how much she must’ve gone through over the years. The other natural had always seemed cheerful and carefree, but maybe she wasn’t so different from Kano after all. They both desperately wanted there to be another way. Though she hadn’t actually asked if there was another choice, she didn’t need to. Kano heard her loud and clear.

But that only made it harder on Kano, because she didn’t have any answers. She had no idea how they were supposed to have any hope for the future. All she knew was that she wouldn’t work with the necromancers, not if she had any other option.

“Fine,” Kano said, uncomfortable under Miusvon’s expectant stare. “Then go help An and Werisah with their work. You should probably see what that alarm is about, anyway. I doubt things will work out the way you want them to, but I hope they do.”

Miusvon continued to stare at her for a few moments, then with a sad smile she said, “Me too.” And with that she turned and walked away.

Kano wished she could have convinced Miusvon, if only to save her from her inevitable disappointment. But it didn’t seem like it was possible without any alternative to offer her. At least now she understood exactly what appealed to people about the necromancer’s schemes, for all the good that would do.