Oxygen

For the first time, Perla’s smile faltered—just slightly. Her eyes narrowed, and the playful light in them hardened into something sharp and unreadable. It wasn’t a dramatic shift, but subtle, like a blade sliding an inch from its sheath. The shift sent a ripple of unease down my spine.

The corridor felt colder somehow, the faint hum of the submarine’s systems a low, ominous undertone. Perla leaned against the wall with calculated ease, her silhouette outlined by the green glow of the emergency strip lights. The moment stretched, heavy with her silence.

“Well,” she said finally, her voice soft, her words almost floating between us. “Aren’t you the clever one?”

I kept my stance firm, though my chest felt tight. “Your behavior doesn’t add up. It’s so confusing I thought something must have been at play. So? What’s your condition, then?”

Her lips twitched in what might have been a smirk, but there was no warmth in it. The lenses of her glasses caught the dim light as she adjusted them, giving her an almost mechanical quality. “Watching you, and self-analyzing my own condition, I am pretty sure I’ve arrived at a satisfactory answer as to what oxygen actually does to our bodies.”

I shifted my weight, wincing slightly as the familiar ache in my back flared up. “Hold on, I’ll go sit over there. My legs are killing me from standing still,” I muttered, gesturing to a nearby ledge built into the wall.

“Go ahead,” she said smoothly, gesturing with a hand. “Take your time.”

I lowered myself onto the ledge, the cold metal pressing against my palms. Perla stayed standing, poised like a figure carved from stone.

“Well,” she began again, as if I hadn’t interrupted. “The oxygen isn’t really toxic per se. It’s been very, and I mean very simplified over the centuries.”

“So it’s not true that it was killing humanity in about seventy or eighty years?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Oh, it was very true, alright.” She spoke as if explaining an abstract concept to a slow student. “It’s just that this poison brought out the worst things you could ever imagine.”

“Like disease and accelerated aging?” I ventured.

“That would be correct,” she said, nodding slightly. “The oxygen itself didn’t directly cause diseases. Instead, it altered the body, weakening its defenses and making it vulnerable to bacteria and viruses. As for aging, oxygen introduced particles that accelerated the body’s natural degeneration, hastening the process of growing old.”

The green light above us flickered briefly, casting shadows that danced across her face. Her calm delivery made the truth all the more chilling. I shifted again, rubbing my palms together as I spoke.

“I think I’m beginning to see a pattern here,” I said, my voice measured as the pieces began to fit together. “Serena, for instance—she’s consumed by greed. She wants everything she lays her eyes on. And Toren... he’s driven by pride, isn’t he?”

“Pride? A God Complex?” Perla mused, her tone detached and analytical, as though she were discussing a lab specimen. “That’s part of it. But based on his data, it’s more than that—he’s fueled by hatred. A deep, visceral loathing for anything or anyone different from him. His need for segregation isn’t just about regions; it’s a reflection of his desire to control and divide.”

I felt my stomach twist at her words. “And I remember that one remark he made toward Southern people who had slightly darker skin than us...”

“People of the past called this ‘racism,’” she said, the term cutting through the air like a scalpel. “Discrimination against people of another race, but it could also mean ethnicity, social status, nationality. Take your pick.”

“And Kael is easy,” I said bitterly. “He chose the path of violence.”

“But that’s not all.” Perla interjected, stepping closer, her shadow stretching across the floor,” he basically tries to find an imaginary problem in society and make it into his casus belli. The reason why he wants to provoke a conflict. It’s no exaggeration to say that if he got his hands on Yggdrasil, he could have the means to actually start a World War V.”

“Reason for a conflict…” I murmured, “…just like the people of the past. Their casus belli for WWIV was the Yggdrasil itself.”

Perla inclined her head slightly. “In Kael’s eyes, his imaginary enemy is the Association itself.”

“And honestly, I don’t blame him,” I admitted, my voice low. “The Association isn’t exactly transparent. You’re the living proof. So... will you answer my question, Perla?”

She exhaled, a long, measured sound that didn’t betray any emotion. Her gaze locked onto mine, unflinching and cold. “Look at it this way,” she began, her words deliberate. “Oxygen develops—let’s call them ‘layers’—within a human body that lead to early destruction. People didn’t usually live past eighty years. Kyslicium was designed to free humans of those layers, exponentially increasing the potential for immortality. But do you know one of the key traits of a long, healthy life?”

I shook my head. “What?”

“Lack of stress,” she said simply. “And what caused people of the past stress, Zehn?”

I hesitated. “Disease, aging, warfare, famine, societal prejudice...”

“Or emotions,” she finished. “Either powerful emotions or no emotions at all.”

Her words hit like a punch to the gut, but I forced myself to keep listening. “And you?” I asked, my voice barely audible.

Perla’s lips thinned into a line, her composure unshaken. “Oxygen made me lose the ability to feel. I am incapable of love, hate, sorrow, joy, admiration, anger... anything. I am nothing but a hollow shell. My emotions are gone, Zehn. All I have left is logic.”

“You’re saying...” I began, trying to find the words. “You’re saying you act on... what, pure calculation? That’s the reason behind all of this—the way you’ve changed?”

She nodded slowly. “Everything you do is fueled by emotions, whether you realize it or not. That’s why I couldn’t stay a Wood Hunter. I leaned into what remained—pragmatism, rationality. It’s why I became a scientist.”

I studied her carefully. Perla wasn’t just different—she was... something else entirely. The detached logic in her voice, the deliberate absence of feeling—it wasn’t natural.

And she wasn’t wrong. But the price she’d paid—it was too steep. Far too steep.

“Then why did my great-great-grandfather choose you to be our captain?” I asked, my tone sharp with suspicion. “Isn’t it risky to entrust this mission to a crew that’s been exposed to oxygen?”

Her lips curled into a faint smirk. “I volunteered. I’ve been working on a side project—Project ‘Defects.’ This mission offers me the chance to complete it. To find the missing piece.”

“I see.” I leaned forward. “What’s it about? Maybe I can help.”

“How would an old geezer like you help me?” She chuckled softly, the sound sharp and mocking. ”Sorry, it was just a joke.” Her eyes glinted as she placed a finger over her lips. “It’s a secret.”

Her playful deflection only deepened my unease. “You’re a brilliant scientist, Perla,” I said, watching her carefully. “So how come you haven’t been able to locate the Alpha Biocore?”

She tilted her head slightly, her smirk fading. “I have a ridiculous theory,” she admitted, her voice quieter now, almost conspiratorial.

I held my breath as she paused, as though weighing the words before releasing them.

“I think it has a will of its own,” she said finally. “And it evades us on purpose.”

“Why would it be ridiculous? The Yggdrasil is a sentient monstrous being, right? We might be even able to ask him a bunch of questions.”

Perla erupted into laughter, her voice echoing through the submarine like the ring of a cracked bell. I could almost feel the crew turning their heads at the sudden noise. When her laughter finally subsided, she wiped at the corners of her eyes, though they betrayed no emotion. “Senility is catching up to you, old boy,” she said with a bemused grin. “But you told your great-great-grandpa that you might have a hunch why we weren’t able to locate it- no, locate him, right?”

I tried to ignore her outburst and stay focused on the topic. “What you said basically confirmed my suspicions. The guy is evading Wood Hunters on purpose and my guess is that he will show himself to people exposed to the oxygen. It’s said that he disappeared when humanity completely cut off from the oxygen. So it’s only logical.”

It seemed to me that her carefully controlled facade cracked. Despite her lack of emotions, Perla looked at me with something resembling admiration. It was fleeting, but it was there—a glimmer in her eyes that said ‘well done, I hadn’t thought of that’.

But her response wasn’t what I expected. “You really are an idiot,” she said, the faintest curve of amusement on her lips.

Chapter 14: END