Interlude (Pestilence) - Why We Should Be Disgusted of the Sick

It was just so easy for Pestilence to enact her plan. Death was desperate for a pawn. War, on the other hand, had no one but himself to blame for trusting her.

“Congratulations. You’ve overcome my challenge,” he said. War started contacting Pestilence through payphones after she stole the Hand of Glory. She exchanged information with him, and he would occasionally assign tasks to her.

“Don’t let Death get near Famine. Apparently, magical opioids don’t mix well with quasi-omniscience. I’m looking for a solution now.” A perfect opportunity. She lured Death to Famine and then told War about it. While they were all distracted, she activated her preparations.

Fake information about her kidnapping. A few threats of biological attacks here and there. She poisoned rivers with the pathogens brewing within her body. All to stretch War’s manpower thin. And to obscure her true target: the Kensei Data Center.

They hid a medical facility for the elites underneath the building. Siphoning data from the server above, the place used magic for medical practices. Whoever could afford the steep price could receive treatment for any medical condition, and also an indefinite extension of their life. Practically, it was offering immortality.

Humans weren’t meant to live forever. Humans weren’t meant to be free of disease. This was a violation of nature.

War and Death don’t matter. The only thing that matters is protecting nature.

The data center was among the top three largest in Japan, so the magical defenses were impressive but still child’s play to the Hand of Glory. It was like a morning stroll to her. None of the projectiles could fire; none of the traps could spring; none of the guards could even react. The Hand of Glory froze everything in place, while her breath took care of the rest.

She had been cultivating microorganisms in her body since she had disposed of her host. Each of her exhales contained thousands of types of genetically modified pathogens, poisoning the air. The building’s closed design worked to her advantage. No one, except her, could survive here. No one could interrupt her. She glanced at the acorn in her palm and then slipped it back into her pocket.

‘Don’t.’ This single word was sent to her.

Damn it. She shouldn’t have told War that she had gotten a mobile phone. She could have ditched the phone to escape War’s nagging, but she didn’t want to do that.

Ignoring the warning, she took three hours to finish reprogramming the terminal, and the code of the servers began its integration process. She only had to guard the data center while her plan ran its course. To pass the time, she scanned through the building with quasi-omniscience, just to see what was happening.

Some of the staff escaped in time. Others met their demise from the mutated fungi, bacteria, and viruses. And the rest who were trapped in the building would soon follow this fate. But… something caught her eye. Pestilence’s face tensed up.

She took off, wiping the Hand of Glory across one keypad after another. The magical artifact unlocked the doors, regardless of clearance level.

She eventually reached a waiting room lined with dark-gray marble. Two benches faced each other, perpendicular to a pair of glass doors. Pictures of mountain ranges hung above the seats.

There was someone in the room. Ueshima Hideka was pushing on a locked door with every ounce of her strength. Pestilence slipped in from the door behind Hideka, while commanding her body to stop releasing pathogens.

Hideka heard Pestilence’s footsteps and turned around; the visitor pass hanging from her neck swayed with her motion. The crevices on her face shifted at once, from a frown to a smile. Pestilence felt the air-conditioning getting chillier, even though quasi-omniscience told her that the temperature had remained the same.

“Karen-chan? What are you doing here?”

How should she answer Hideka? What lie would be believable here? Should she lie? Her mind drew a blank. “I don’t know.”

She had full awareness of what expression she was displaying, but still, she wasn’t sure if she looked the part of a confused damsel. Even knowing that Hideka didn’t suspect anything, she just couldn’t shake the dreadful feeling of her heart turning into ice.

“That is fine. We should find a way out first,” Hideka said with a nod. Her heart rate returned to the normal range, and the tightness in her muscles subsided.

“Okay,” Pestilence couldn’t get another word out. She couldn’t put on her mask. She could only stand there. A part of her wanted to activate the Hand of Glory and escape.

“Do you know how we can get out? How did you get in? Wait, what’s that you’re holding? Is it… a hand?”

“Let’s wait for someone to rescue us,” Pestilence said in a calm voice, finally finding the words. No cutesy act. A statement as plain as it could be. She stepped towards the bench and sat down. Hideka glanced through the glass door at the corridor for one more moment, then followed Pestilence’s lead.

They stared at the plain ceiling, where a center light tube flickered.

“Do you want to go somewhere next Sunday? No pressure,” Hideka said. “I had a lot of fun last week.”

Did I have fun too? Pestilence tried to remember. Back when they went shopping, she spent the first half of the trip wondering why she agreed to it, but while trying on outfits and tasting snacks, she got into the mood, becoming wholly devoted to the ephemeral activities. She remembered smiling. She remembered the warmth in her heart. To her dismay, those moments weren’t lies.

“Or… do you not want to? Sorry for bringing it up.” Hideka said, subtly turning away.

“Let’s go hiking. I like to be in nature,” Pestilence said. An organic grin emerged on her face. For a moment, she had forgotten where they were, what her goals were, and what she had done.

“But I get tired easily!” Hideka sounded like she was turning down the suggestion, but the grin on her face said otherwise.

“Then you should definitely get more training in.”

They giggled. If only this moment could last forever.

Pestilence’s laughter dissipated. And her smile vanished. Sometimes she wished she didn’t have quasi-omniscience…

Cough.

Hideka checked her palm to find a wad of blood.

Cough. Cough. Hideka couldn’t stop spitting out red. Wheezing and heaving.

“Are you okay?” Pestilence asked instinctively. Of course, Hideka wasn’t fine. The mutated coronavirus and M. tuberculosis multiplied in her lungs with unbelievable speed. Her immune system never stood a chance.

Hideka kept coughing, unable to speak.

Pestilence’s mind raced for a way to save Hideka. If she used the Hand of Glory to freeze Hideka, she could have time to carry Hideka out of the building, and then she could beg War to use some magical item to heal Hideka. War wasn’t the type to hold grudges. As long as she had something to offer, she was sure he would…

But what would be the point? Hideka would still die one day. Or worse, she could change. And there was nothing Pestilence could do.

She remembered what Death had shown her. To achieve something, she needed to do whatever it took. Hideka was only a temporary plaything to her anyway. Pestilence reached into her pocket to feel the acorn. It was a reminder of her commitment to nature.

“Help, I can’t breathe.” Hideka managed to say a single sentence before getting back to coughing again. Fear. Quasi-omniscience kept emphasizing Hideka’s fear.

Hideka was scared of dying. She was scared of leaving her sister and mother behind. She was scared of infecting Pestilence.

I’m sorry, Mother. I’m scared, Chiaki-chan. Panicked spirals of ruminations invaded Pestilence’s mind. Too much information was assaulting her. She shut her eyes and embraced Hideka, dropping the Hand of Glory to the floor.

“I… I…” Pestilence scrambled for the words. She didn’t even know what she wanted to achieve through speaking.

Elis… This name flashed through her mind. A name that meant nothing to her. But she still remembered it, and she had to carry it for all of eternity. Just because. For no reason.

“I’ll remember you,” she whispered. Her quasi-omniscience picked up no reactions. She wondered whether Hideka had heard her. Regardless, it still felt like she had yelled into a bottomless chasm.

After a few more minutes, the coughing stopped. And the person in Pestilence’s arms went limp.

Hideka was dead.

She still kept her warmth, but soon, her body would be as room-temperature as the Hand of Glory. Pestilence leaned her ear against Hideka’s chest, but that merely confirmed what she already knew.

The control of her body slipped. A wail broke loose from her, and tears blew out. Sludge of vomit poured from her mouth. She pulled on her own skin. She wanted to get out of herself.

Only a while longer. Only a little while longer until this all ends.

These thoughts failed to soothe her. She felt as if her heart was being devoured by her own bacteria.