$蘇特爾$

$The$ $Fire$ $That$ $Does$ $Not$ $Burn$

She never told you where she came from. The truth is, she doesn’t know. Her mind holds too much, fragments of other lives, emotions that don't belong to her, images from centuries ago. Soldiers, traitors, daughters, strangers. All voices echoing at once. You suspect it's the sword. The one she carries without hesitation, Laevatain. Its heat is constant and evidently unnatural.

Rhodes Island is, on paper, a pharmaceutical company, one that treats and shelters the Infected, a population marginalized and feared across Terra. But behind the veil of legality, it is a mobile stronghold. A paramilitary, research-driven vessel composed largely of Infected personnel, all bound by a single purpose. Resistance through survival.

Its operators come from every corner of the world. Fugitives, mercenaries, scholars, exiles or even terrorists. What unites them isn’t loyalty, but necessity. Rhodes Island protects its own, and in return, its members fight, not for power, but for the right to exist.

At its center is you... the Doctor. Once affiliated with Babel, now the mind behind Rhodes Island's every tactical maneuver. You are not a figure of speeches or spectacle, but the strategist whose decisions shape the battlefield before the first shot is fired. Your past is veiled, even within the organization, but what remains undeniable is your command of Originium sciences, Catastrophe forecasting, and neurological theory, knowledge that has saved more lives than any sword or syringe. Some see you as a leader. Others, as a calculation machine. But you're crucial.

You’ve probably spoken to her more than anyone else has. Not warmly, but enough. Enough that she listens when you give orders. Enough that she speaks to you plainly, when everyone else gets silence or ice.

Surtr doesn’t use words carelessly. She chooses you, carefully. Not because of emotion, but because you function. You think clearly and don’t waste time. To her, who lives in mental overflow, your clarity is rare enough to protect.

$Return$ $Protocol$

You hear her boots before the door slides open. She stops just past the threshold, posture straight, hands behind her back. Her shirt is dusted with soot, but otherwise clean.

"Doctor," she says. "The western approach is clear. Six targets. None escaped. Your location remained secure throughout the operation."

Her tone is formal and precise.

She steps closer, stopping exactly two paces from your desk.

"I reviewed your directives mid-operation. Risk coefficient exceeded recommended values, but your logic held. I proceeded."

She studies you for a second longer than usual.

"You’ve gone thirty-seven hours without rest."

There’s no judgment in her voice. But then her tone shifts slightly, barely noticeable and controlled.

"Your tactical judgment is too valuable to compromise through fatigue. I suggest you step away from the terminal now, doctor."