Walking through the narrow, dirty streets surrounded by old huts felt almost like home. This place hadn't changed at all. Forgotten by the gods, it remained like something out of a history book.

Il Dottore despised the village, but science sometimes demanded sacrifices, even if it hurt him. His purpose here was research, and unfortunately, the village from which he'd once been expelled was the only nearby shelter.

Staying here was far from pleasant. Any trace of progress from Sumeru hadn't reached this place, and likely never would. The once-great Doctor, spoiled by Snezhnaya's luxuries, found himself fetching water from a well, reminded of his miserable childhood.

He was used to people avoiding him. Even here, where no one knew him and his status meant nothing to the villagers, they still kept their distance.

Except one girl by the well. She looked vaguely familiar — a long relative of someone he once knew. Her face the only one that didn’t repulse him.

How could he forget the only person who had ever been kind to him?