The rain had long since ceased, the sun blazing as they marched into the haven, singing hymns and chanting songs. In the middle of the crowd, Katherine screamed along, her voice blending with theirs, trying her best to match the rhythm.
Victor watched her, a smile lighting up his face. No longer did he see Nathan when he looked at her. Instead, he saw a little thirteen-year-old girl with more confidence than he could ever muster. "Thanks, Katherine," He whispered, watching her continue marching toward the haven.
Victor walked toward the hospital, a bag of supplies in one hand and a cone of ice cream for Katherine in the other.
He didn't have a sweet tooth, so the treat was just for her. As he handed it to her, he watched her smile, taking a lick before returning to play with the children of the haven.
He smiled too, but deep down, he knew this moment wouldn't last forever. He had a year left—a year to kill the monarchs. It wasn't for some noble cause or to save humanity; it was for himself, for his pride and vengeance.
As much as he wished he could leave Katherine here, even if it wasn't what she wanted, he knew he couldn't. Her blood was essential to creating Constalin, and even if they could minimize its use, she would still have to follow him, putting her at risk once again.
"You okay?" Alan shook Victor's shoulder, bringing him back to the present.
"Yeah... Yeah," Victor muttered, rubbing his eyes. "I was just thinking about something."
"Care to share?" Alan asked, returning to his seat and reaching into a cabinet. He pulled out a bottle of wine.
"Alan..." Victor began, his voice filled with concern as he saw the bottle.
"C'mon. We haven't had a drink in years."
"It's not about that," Victor replied, a serious tone overtaking him. "It's about you. This is only going to kill you faster."
"You act like there's a lot left for me in this world." Alan grabbed a cup from the counter, cleaning it with a cloth. "I'm just like you—broken in more ways than one."
"Your life is precious. Everyone's lives are. Maybe I can only see it now because I have little time left, but I see it." Victor's voice softened. "I want both you and Katherine to live long lives."
Alan poured two glasses of wine, sighing as Victor's serious expression threatened to kill the mood. "You know, my father once told me something before he died: 'What is a life? Is it merely the amount of time spent in this world, or is it the culmination of memories and experiences?'"
"Mr. Milburn was a smart man," Victor remarked.
"He was an asshole," Alan corrected, downing the glass of wine. "But his words were true. A week, a month, a year—it doesn't matter how much time a soul spends in this world, all that matters are the memories it creates. Katherine understands that."
"She's a child."
"And so are you," Alan shot back, his gaze dropping to Victor's glass. "Death isn't the end. It's just a reminder—a reminder to make more memories. Even a child understands that." He took another swig.
Victor looked at Alan, his friend, brash and foul-mouthed he was one of the most caring individuals he knew. Capable of feeling sympathy for people, the reason he ever chose to pick up a syringe. "I hate arguing with you." Victor grabbed the glass.
"You always lose." Alan grinned.
Victor drank from the glass of wine, savoring the warmth it brought. These little moments spent—arguing, drinking, laughing—were why he appreciated life. As the silence settled, something came to his mind. "That reminds me, you mentioned finding an alternative for Katherine, right?"
"Yes," Victor replied, leaning forward.
"Hm. It's tricky," Alan began, turning in his chair to reach for a book. "Constantine's documents don't mention any alternatives, but I believe that's because of his limited knowledge of chemistry. Constantine is bright, a scholar greater than myself. However, there is a compound similar to Katherine's blood."
"Really?" Victor's eyes lit up with genuine joy.
"I spent all of yesterday searching for an alternative," Alan admitted. "I hoped you'd change your mind, and here we are."
"You're such a softie," Victor teased.
"Leave me alone," Alan muttered, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks before continuing. "There's a compound called 'Rilipse' that has properties similar to Katherine's blood. It's incredibly rare, even in the largest hospitals, but if anyone has access to it, it'd be Nicholas Laurent."
"Who's that?" Victor asked.
"A biochemist, like me. Top of his class. Award-winning physician."
"Jealous much?" Victor grinned.
"Tch," Alan sighed. "Nicholas and I go way back. He's smart—smarter than most. His memory's sharp, and his perception even sharper."
"So, there's a way to do this without involving Katherine too much?"
"That's what it seems like, but there's no guarantee, Victor," Alan warned.
"I know." Victor stood up from his seat, finishing off the rest of his wine. "Where can we find this biochemist?"
"He has a family in Vielat. Not sure if he's still there, but that's your best bet."
"The main city, huh." Victor glanced out the window, watching Katherine race past with the other children, her laughter filling the air. "That's going to be rough."
"You sure you'll be okay getting there? The only way is through the Jashu mountainside, and..." Alan trailed off.
"Don't worry, I'll manage." Victor waved as he stepped toward the door. "Somehow," He muttered under his breath as he left.
The town was more alive than it had been in a long time. Children playing, townsmen working on rebuilding homes, and lively songs spilling out of the bars as men drank and celebrated.
Victor smiled to himself, weaving through a narrow alley that cut between two rows of old houses, where the noise of the village faded behind him. The alley opened into a quieter, shadowed corner near the outskirts. There, nestled at the end of the passage, was a small, worn-down building. Victor pulled his mask down and shouted, "HELGA!"
The sound of cups and plates crashing inside was followed by hurried footsteps. Moments later, a woman appeared at the window, her eyes widening as she spotted him. "No way," She gasped, rushing toward the door.
By the time Victor reached the entrance, the door flew open, and Helga threw her arms around him, squeezing him in a tight embrace. "Oof," He groaned as her grip nearly crushed him.
"You didn't even tell me when you left!" She scolded, finally releasing him. She shut the door behind her and adjusted her glasses, her expression softening. "I was so worried."
"We came back a few days ago. How's your sight?" Victor asked.
"We?" Helga squinted. "Don't tell me—"
"No," Victor interrupted quickly. "I do not have a girlfriend, nor do I plan on getting one."
"You're so uptight," Helga chuckled. "It's all in good faith, you know. Finding another partner... it's what Anissa would have wanted."
Victor's face tightened as he put a hand to his mouth, coughing to mask his reaction. "Well, she's not here to verify or deny that."
Helga sighed but didn't push further, glancing back toward her home. "I just made some porridge. You should come in."
"I'm going to Vielat," Victor said firmly, steering the conversation back on track.
Helga kept her gaze behind her, tears slowly spilling down her cheeks. She was the only sister of Anissa—Victor's late wife—and had been tasked with making sure Victor was alright. But no matter how much she tried, she couldn't sway him from his path of vengeance. She understood why he pursued it, but that didn't make it any easier to accept.
"We can discuss this as we eat, no?" She offered gently, trying to delay the inevitable.
"I told you before, Helga," Victor said firmly. "I have one year left. I'm going after the monarchs before it's up."
"But—"
"That's final," Victor cut in, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Helga sighed deeply, glancing up at the sky as if searching for strength. "She would want you to find happiness in that year, Victor," She whispered.
"The only way I can truly find that is when those things are dead," He replied, his voice hard, unyielding.
"There's really no stopping you, is there?" Helga sighed. "Okay, what did you come here for?"
"I need bullets, and some food for the road."
Helga nodded, turning to open the door. Before she could step inside, Victor called out, "Helga."
When she turned back, he tossed her a small bottle of eye drops. "It's all I could find."
She caught it, her lips forming a faint smile. "Thanks, the headaches have been terrible lately."
Inside, Victor gathered what he needed—bullets, empty vials, and enough food to last them until Vielat, where they'd have to scavenge again. As he packed up, Helga hesitated at the doorway. "When are you going to come back?"
Victor glanced at her. Behind her glasses, he could see her teary-eyed gaze, filled with concern. She wanted nothing more than to see him find peace. He slung the bag over his shoulder. "Thanks for the food."
"Yeah..." Helga whispered as Victor walked away, disappearing into the shadows of the alley and back onto the bustling main streets.
Helga sighed, locking the door behind her as she entered her house. The sound echoed through the quiet space. She paused for a moment, leaning against the door, knowing deep down that this might have been the last time she'd ever see Victor again. Slowly she walked back to her room, her sleeves underneath her glasses.
Meanwhile, outside, Victor knelt beside Katherine, adjusting a small bag over her shoulders. "You ready?" He asked, his voice calm.
"To go save the world?" Katherine replied, trying to sound playful.
"Well, you're not that far off," Victor smiled. "We're heading to Vielat. Hopefully, we can meet a doctor there. Alan thinks he might know a way to mass-produce Constalin without using your blood."
"Oh..." Katherine's voice trailed off. She knew why she was important to Victor. It was all for her blood. If what he said was true, she might not be needed anymore.
Victor noticed her hesitation and gently patted her ruffled hair. "Don't worry. Even if they can make it without your blood, we're in this together—right until the very end. Okay?"
Katherine's smile returned as she nodded. "Yeah."