Following Kal'tsit's message, the group embarked on their journey back to Rhodes Island two days later, bringing along a generous supply of tear stones that Kal'tsit had deemed potentially useful for their ongoing trials.
Ensia looked somewhat reluctant to wave them off, secretly wishing the visitors could linger a bit longer in Kjerag. Yet by then, their minds were already set on returning.
For Jeanne and her companions, no news could possibly be more thrilling than the prospect of a pharmaceutical breakthrough capable of suppressing Oripathy. They were practically eager to board Jeanne's dragon form and fly straight back to the landship.
"Do you think Kal'tsit's research will actually succeed this time?" Jeanne asked, glancing at the Doctor, who was meticulously reviewing the technical files Kal'tsit had transmitted, trying to reverse-engineer her experimental methodology.
Despite missing her long-term memories regarding Oripathy research, the Doctor had quickly demonstrated her innate genius upon waking up, establishing herself as an exceptionally skilled scholar in the field once again.
"If Kal'tsit's current path holds true, a breakthrough is definitely within reach," the Doctor murmured. "Though I can't predict how potent these specific stones will turn out to be, so I can't guarantee absolute success."
"Still, if it does succeed, we could develop a reliable blocking agent—an injectable prophylactic that dramatically lowers infection risk if administered shortly after exposure to high-purity Originium."
By that point, the Doctor was already calculating practical deployment strategies. Compared to standard Oripathy suppressants, a preventative prophylactic would undoubtedly be immensely popular, capturing a massive, highly lucrative market across Terra.
"It's hard to fathom that such a medicine could even exist," Doctor mused. "Before coming here, I would have thought the odds of such a breakthrough were close to zero—aside from your holy water, of course, the principles of which I still can't wrap my head around."
She cast a sideways glance at Jeanne. To this day, the one mystery that routinely caused the Doctor to pull her hair out—second only to dense Rhodes Island administrative paperwork—was the composition of Jeanne's holy water.
No matter what advanced analytical equipment the landship's labs used, testing yielded nothing more than ordinary, mundane water.
"Ah, you really shouldn't waste your time studying that. I doubt you'll figure it out anytime soon," Jeanne chuckled good-naturedly, noticing the Doctor's melancholic, resentful glare.
"I'm well aware of that; I abandoned trying to analyze it ages ago."
Expecting Jeanne to offer at least a tiny hint, the Doctor let out a disappointed sigh, dropped the subject, and refocused entirely on the data files to prepare for the upcoming trials.
After several days of travel, the group finally docked at the Rhodes Island landship.
The reception committee waiting to greet them was remarkably grand. Led by Kal'tsit and Amiya, a full contingent of medical department personnel stood on the flight deck as though welcoming the most distinguished dignitaries, casting eager, expectant glances directly toward the vehicle's trunk.
"How touching," the Doctor beamed, spreading her arms wide as she stepped forward. "I only stepped away for a short while, and everyone missed me this much? Come here, let's have a proper hug—"
The Doctor swept forward, bypassing a stern-faced Kal'tsit and a stiff Warfarin entirely, aiming straight for Amiya.
A moment later, a thoroughly embarrassed Cautus teenager found herself swept into a suffocating embrace, struggling awkwardly in the Doctor's grip.
It took Kal'tsit stepping in to physically rescue Amiya from the bear hug. The young Cautus adjusted her ears, blinked innocently, and wisely chose to ignore the Doctor entirely from then on.
"Did you bring the materials?" Kal'tsit asked briskly, popping open the trunk. Seeing the crates of tear stones inside, she gave a curt nod, turned on her heel, and marched off toward the medical labs, leaving the returning travelers behind.
She had practically mobilized every medical operator skilled in clinical research for this single project. With everyone laser-focused on the prospective treatment, nobody had spare energy to entertain the Doctor with casual small talk.
"Honestly, everyone's so cold. I just got back, and all they care about are a bunch of rocks," the Doctor grumbled, tapping her helmet in mock exasperation before turning to lead Jeanne and the others back to her office.
"Is Rosmontis helping Amiya sort paperwork today?"
Upon stepping into the office, they found a quiet white-haired Feline girl sitting by the desk, holding a terminal and looking up with a blank, innocent expression as the door opened.
The moment Rosmontis caught sight of Blaze standing in the doorway, however, some deep-seated instinct seemed to trigger. She snatched up her data terminal, checked a quick safety log, and instantly scurried behind the Doctor's back to keep a safe distance.
Though Rosmontis's memory issues meant she couldn't immediately recall who the fiery Feline operator was, her terminal logs explicitly warned: Not an enemy, but maintain a safe distance. Following her device's strict safety protocols, Rosmontis guarded her personal space fiercely.
"Hey now, little Rosmontis, that's harsh!" Blaze pouted playfully. "Every other time, you run straight into my arms calling me big sister. Why so guarded today? Are you mad that I've been away for a while?"
"Really? Am I actually that close with Blaze?" Rosmontis blinked, looking at Blaze's confident expression and suddenly doubting her own terminal's notes. Did I write that down by mistake?
"Of course! I remember when you jumped into my hug, you kept shouting—"
"—That's why I wrote down: 'No matter what Blaze says, do not believe her; she claims to be an expert at tricking children like Rosmontis,' right here in my notes," Rosmontis finished calmly, reading directly from her screen.
Blaze was utterly defeated. She hadn't expected Rosmontis's anti-fraud protocols to be so robust, leaving her squatting in the corner with a comically devastated expression.
"If you're done playing, how about helping me clear out some paperwork?" the Doctor sighed, shoving Rosmontis gently toward the desk before turning back to her guests. "Anyone want tea? I managed to smuggle a tin of high-grade leaves back from Lungmen last time."
The Doctor retrieved a modest tin from beneath her desk, gesturing hospitably toward Jeanne and Alina.
Jeanne didn't stand on ceremony, expertly fetching cups and pouring a round for herself and Alina. It was rare for them to consume such fine Yan-style tea, and after taking a sip, Jeanne found the flavor overwhelmingly bitter.
"I honestly don't understand why you enjoy drinking this stuff. It tastes worse than plain water," Jeanne remarked, grimacing at the cup.
"Having you drink fine tea is practically pearls before swine," the Doctor groaned, looking at Jeanne's expression with genuine financial heartache. "You aren't supposed to chug it like water; you need to calm your mind and sip slowly. You two were far too impatient."
She secretly resolved to offer Jeanne plain hot water next time. A specialty item of that price tag had cost her a small fortune to acquire.
"Impatience aside, do you genuinely think Kal'tsit and her team can pull this off? Can they really engineer a preventative treatment that stops people exposed to Originium from developing Oripathy?" Alina asked, her eyes lighting up with genuine curiosity and hope.
She smiled gently, eager to hear the Doctor's verdict on whether Kal'tsit's research would yield results.
If such a breakthrough succeeded, it meant the suffocating terror ordinary people felt toward infected individuals could finally begin to dissolve. If mass-produced, the existential danger of Oripathy would plummet, tearing down the very foundation of societal prejudice, systemic discrimination, and the cruel exploitation of the infected.
Alina envisioned a fairer era—one she hoped to see blossom across the entire continent, extending far beyond the sanctuary of a single nomadic city like Chernobog.
"I can't say for certain; I haven't seen the test data firsthand," the Doctor replied, her tone dipping into a somber register. "Even so... even if a preventative drug hits the market tomorrow, it won't magically solve the immediate plight of those already living with the infection."
The Doctor's expression turned heavy. Reviewing recent continental intelligence reports during her absence revealed a grim, unchanging reality: nations across Terra continued to use the infected as convenient scapegoats, weaponizing fear to justify harsh new containment laws. While some regions were marginally better than others, systemic oppression remained the global standard.
And that was certainly not good news.