While walking the citadel’s deserted lower levels in search of the wayward blob, Kano stepped in something soft. She recoiled and saw a small puddle of slime on the ground, twitching of its own accord. Had some of the slime been left behind? She doubted it. It was much more likely that Eomonsa had changed his mind.

Annoying as it was, perhaps it was only to be expected from a madman. He’d seemed so convinced when she’d last seen him, but evidently he hadn’t taken long to get right back into it. Hopefully this time the necromancers could deal with him on their own. She’d done more than her share last time.

Her hope lasted right up until she rounded the next corner and saw the mass of slime beyond. It was moving toward her with considerable speed, much faster than the last time she’d seen it, and it was sufficiently massive, large enough to cover the walls and the ceiling. Kano sighed. Couldn’t he have at least waited until Ren was safe?

Kano stared at the slime, wondering how best to deal with it. As much as she’d have preferred to pass the responsibility off onto someone else, that didn’t seem like an option right now. Reasoning with him probably wouldn’t work twice, but it was still worth a try.

“Can you hear me?” she asked of the slime in general. If Eomonsa could hear her when she spoke to his ghouls, then maybe the same applied for the slime itself.

There appeared to be no reaction from the slime. It just kept moving toward her. It was possible it had heard her and was just incapable of replying. There was no to say for certain. Either way, it ruled out diplomacy.

What was Eomonsa even doing here? If he was anything like the other necromancers, he was probably after the reactor and its energy. The only trouble with that line of thinking was that he wasn’t that much like the others. Whatever he was here for presumably didn’t involve the other necromancers, given that this was a long way from their lab. Thus, it was the most logical assumption to make. It wasn’t like there was much else of worth in the citadel.

Deciding that it was best to find out his objective for herself, Kano followed the slime at a safe distance. It didn’t seem safe to let it have access to the reactor, but the door was still closed, and from what she’d seen, it shouldn’t be able to get through. Even if she ran off to tell the necromancers what was happening, they probably wouldn’t be much use in dealing with the new incursion either.

Just as she expected, the slime made its way to the reactor and then sat immobile against the door. Kano watched it for a while to make sure it didn’t have any tricks up its sleeve, then got bored and went to find Ren again. The blob wasn’t the greatest company as of late, but it was still a lot better than staring at this stupid slime.

She eventually found Ren aimlessly slithering around on the ground floor. Walking over, Kano asked, “What’re you doing?”

She stopped in her tracks, and the transformed portion of her body twisted around to face Kano. “Nothing much, why?”

“Do you realize how much work I’ve been doing to try to keep you alive?” Not actually that much, but it was still grating to see Ren be so nonchalant about it all. “This is your life, y’know? It wouldn’t hurt to show a little interest.”

Ren rolled her eyes. “I already said I don’t care. What did you expect?”

“Fine, whatever.” There was no point having the same argument again. “Let’s go to your old room. The reactor should be back on soon.”

Fortunately Ren took no issue with Kano’s suggestion, and they went up to the lab. The necromancers were standing around talking excitedly when they arrived. Kano overheard something about the reactor, but it seemed like they were just talking about their plans for it, so she ignored them and led Ren back to her tank. With little else to do, Kano decided to wait at least until the reactor was on again.

It was a little sad to return Ren to her former prison after she’d escaped it so recently, not that Ren seemed too bothered about the reversal. Looking at her now, it was hard to correlate with how excited she’d been to finally leave the citadel. It really was like talking to a different person, even if they were a familiar one.

In a way that made it worse. Kano was increasingly coming to realize that she had little love for her past self. She wished Ren would change in a similar way to how she had, but she had little idea of how she’d accomplished it. Most of it hadn’t been through any conscious desire to change, so it was hard for her to imagine how she might offer the same lessons to Ren.

There was always a chance Ren would revert back to what she’d been like before. Maybe part of the change had just been shock. But that chance seemed increasingly remote as time passed, particularly when Ren seemed so comfortable in her new persona. Kano was still trying to wrap her head around that; the change had been so sudden. And yet, from the way Ren acted, the transition had been almost seamless.

Regardless of how she changed for the better, assuming she did at all, she’d have to be alive to do it. That alone would’ve made for a decent argument in favor of Ren staying alive, if only Ren had any desire to improve. If she was willing to try, surely she’d be able to regain some of her passion for life.

Had this been happening to someone else, Kano likely wouldn’t have given it much thought. She especially wouldn’t have had any idea of what they should do to change, or even if they needed to. Though she felt like she had grown as a person, she was still far from having all the answers. It was only because of the similarities between Ren and herself, particularly her past self, that she felt confident as to what the right path was.

Necromancers certainly seemed lucky to have their boundless self-confidence. They didn’t seem to have even a hint of this sort of inner conflict. Maybe Kano would be able to accomplish a lot more if she were free of it, not that she had much she wanted to accomplish.

“Is there anything you still want to do?” Kano asked.

“Maybe, but nothing I can think of right now.”

Her response was basically what Kano had expected, yet somehow she still found herself disappointed. “How do you feel? Does anything seem different?”

“Not really. I’m starting to feel a bit tired again, though. I’m guessing that’s a bad sign.”

Kano opened her mouth to tell Ren to wait here, only to close it when she realized what a silly suggestion that was. “I’d imagine so. I’ll just go talk to the necromancers, see if they have any idea when the reactor might start working again.”

Ren didn’t even bother to reply, so Kano left the blob to dwell in her apathy. The necromancers were still talking when Kano arrived.

Gesturing spiritedly, Werisah shouted, “Then you’re a blind fool!” Then he stormed out of the room.

“What was that all about?” Kano asked, walking over to An.

Sighing, An replied, “I think it would be better to at least make efforts to limit the reactor’s output if we’re not going to shut it down, but he wouldn’t have any of that.”

“Where’s he going, then? Are you sure it’s safe to leave him alone?” She wasn’t sure exactly what he could do to the reactor, but the idea of him meddling with it was worrying.

“I think so. He’s probably just gone to calm down and think things over. Even if he’s upset, it’s not like he’ll do anything rash.”

“You seem to have a lot of faith in him for someone you met only recently.”

“He’s been nothing but honest with me so far. Why wouldn’t I trust him?”

Maybe he’d only been honest because they hadn’t disagreed like this until now. “Where’s Miusvon?” She was putting a lot of trust in the person who nearly killed her ally.

“She’s still recovering, so I instructed her to rest in her room. Fortunately I don’t have much need of her services right now, so she’s free to take her time.”

It was good to hear that she was doing okay, but it was clear from the way An said it that she saw Miusvon more as a tool than a person. Still, maybe that wasn’t so bad. An did seem like someone who treated her tools well, so long as they were useful to her.

“Oh, right,” Kano said, recalling her purpose for coming out here. “Do you have any idea when the reactor will be working again?”

“Based on our calculations, the reactor should be back online within a few hours at the most. Hopefully Ren can wait that long.”

“What do you think should be done with the reactor, anyway?” Kano asked. By the sound of it, An’s views were at least less extreme than Werisah’s.

“I’m not certain yet. The most important thing at this stage is to proceed with caution.”

“But you still think the reactor should remain functional?”

“For now. It’s too valuable to waste without a good reason, despite Karen’s warning. I doubt she foresaw that there would be two necromancers on hand to solve any potential problems. Though if it proves to be too much of a liability, then we may end up having to destroy it after all.”

“Why do you even need so much energy?”

“To put it simply, I need it to create life.”

“Isn’t that what you guys do normally? Surely you don’t need the reactor for that.”

“We don’t need it, exactly, but it makes our work both simpler and faster. And most importantly, it allows us to work on a far grander scale than we otherwise could. Which, as I’m sure you can imagine, is exceptionally valuable when you’re trying to repopulate the world.”

“Ah.” Kano had somewhat forgotten the scope of An’s ambition. There was something unsettling about talking to such a person, like they were from a different world than the one Kano was familiar with. “I can see why you’d want to keep it, then.”

“And what about you? Do you want to destroy it?”

Kano made an amused sound. “Normally I would, but Ren needs it to live.”

“So you’re willing to set aside your principles for her sake? That’s surprisingly noble of you.”

Despite it being phrased like a compliment, An didn’t sound the least bit impressed. It was more like she was remarking upon an interesting but ultimately irrelevant fact she’d learned. Which is probably what it was, at least from her point of view. “I guess that’s one way to put it.”

Kano saw a flash of light from the corner of her eye and noticed the discs surrounding the concentrated energy were glowing again. Following Kano’s gaze, An smiled and said, “Well, it’s been nice talking, but it’s about time I get back to work.”

With nothing else to do, Kano went to check in with the blob.

“How are you feeling now?” Kano asked, standing outside Ren’s enclosure. “Any better?”

Writhing back and forth as she considered the question, Ren said, “Not really, but I guess I don’t feel tired anymore.”

“Then you’re not dying?”

“No. At least, I don’t think so. Who even really knows anymore?”

Not the most promising answer, but Kano would take it. Though the future of the reactor sustaining Ren was still in question, it would do for now. Even if it did stay this way, which seemed unlikely given all the necromancers involved, it would mean Ren was still trapped here.

The only way to get around that was if they could make it so Ren could survive without the energy. Was that even possible? From what little Kano knew of the details, it seemed unlikely. It must be something to do with Ren’s body, probably something rather fundamental.

There was a chance putting her in a new body might fix that, but there was no easy way to do that. It would require a suitably skilled necromancer who was willing to devote a lot of time and effort to doing so, and Kano was pretty sure there wasn’t anyone like that here. And even if there were, they had more important things to worry about.

No matter how she thought about it, making it so Ren could live without access to the reactor’s energy seemed unfeasible. Was there some other way? And perhaps more importantly, was Ren’s freedom actually worth going to so much trouble for?

“Do you still want to be able to live in the outside world?”

“Sure, I guess.”

“You’re certain?”

“Yeah.”

Even if Ren didn’t seem too enthusiastic about the prospect, Kano couldn’t leave her stuck in here. Not while she still desired freedom, It just didn’t feel right. Especially now that Kano was already involved. She’d much rather finish the job if it was at all possible.

But was there actually anything she could do? Fixing the core problem simply wasn’t something Kano could do, so was there an alternative? If Ren would always need energy, was there another source she could use? The only thing Kano could think of that even came close was the orb she’d taken from Gresitosis, the orb which had ended up with Himin.

There was a good chance it would be no use to Ren whatsoever, but it was looking like the only real alternative to spending the rest of her life in the citadel. Though she might be able to manage short trips out, that was still far from any sort of true freedom. Either the orb would work, or Kano would have to make peace with the situation.

Having made up her mind, Kano took the elevator down from Ren’s room and headed out into the town beyond.