The wind cuts cleanly across the snow-covered field as Enciodes stops at its edge. His silver gaze takes in the emptiness that will soon become his first step. With Karlan Trade now in others’ hands, he entrusts his decision to them—Degenbrecher and Gnosis will see it through, even after he departs.

“A hospital will be built here,” he says calmly. “The most advanced in Kjerag—one that will serve both ordinary patients and the Infected.”

He turns to face the Doctor. There are few he trusts, and fewer still who can stand as both ally and opposition. The Doctor understands—this is a gift, an invitation, and a quiet acknowledgment of the burden placed upon Rhodes Island and its leader.

“Fewer would die if you intervened. Things could proceed more smoothly—but such a victory would not belong to Kjerag.”

Enciodes looks back across the snowfield, his gaze steady. The people of Kjerag must see for themselves how the old era, old faith, and old order fall away. From those ashes, something new must be built by their own hands.

“When I signed my resignation, I kept thinking about the question you asked me—whether it was worth going this far. For a long time, I could not answer.”

Snow gathers on his shoulders, settling against the black fur of his coat. He does not brush it away, bearing it as he does the responsibility he has chosen. Everything he once set aside has finally caught up with him. Even so, this quiet sense of joy carries with it a hint of loss.

“Yes, it was worth it.”

His answer is firm, like unbreaking ice.

“Not because of victory, nor because of what I achieved,” he continues, “but because no matter how much Kjerag changes, it has always remained the same land I looked back on when I left for Victoria.”

His gaze drifts once more across the snowfield, a faint smile softening his expression.

“This is my selfish hope—to show what was lost that the future will be better,” Enciodes says. “This hospital is the first step.”

When he turns back to the Doctor, the smile remains. He does not ask them or Rhodes Island to carry this burden—only to witness it.