"Are you serious? Did I mishear you?!"
Hearing those words drop from Kal'tsit's lips with quiet precision, Jeanne could hardly trust her own ears. For a second, she genuinely wondered if she had fallen into a dream or caught a sudden hallucination.
Could this be a joke? Were the two of them pulling her leg? But neither Kal'tsit nor Warfarin were the type to make light of something so grave. Looking at them, Jeanne felt a storm of conflicting emotions surging in her chest.
"Ha! That exact face! That's the same look I had on my mug when I first heard the news!" Warfarin piped up immediately. "It sounds like a total joke, right? When I heard it, I honestly thought Kal'tsit had finally gone completely mad from overwork to utter such nonsense... Okay, okay, I was wrong!"
Warfarin cut her outburst short as Kal'tsit fixed her with a glare so cold it could freeze molten lava. The vampire instantly shrank back, behaving like an obedient student.
"Incredible as it sounds, I assure you it is the absolute truth," Kal'tsit said, bringing Jeanne closer to the display. "Through these dead Originium samples, we have uncovered a preliminary method to grant the body resistance against Oripathy. This test subject is the very first mammal to survive the procedure."
Following Kal'tsit's hand, Jeanne leaned in and peered closely at the white mouse. Sure enough, embedded along its abdomen was a faint, tiny crystalline growth. But the coloration was completely wrong.
It wasn't the pitch-black, obsidian hue typical of Oripathy lesions seen on ordinary Infected. Instead, it was completely clear and transparent—the exact glass-like material Kal'tsit held in her hand.
If anything, seeing it up close was even more unsettling. Because the crystal was transparent, you could see the underlying flesh and tissue right through it. It almost looked as though the creature was suffering from a far more terrifying condition.
"You... deliberately infected this creature with Oripathy?" Jeanne asked.
Though the concept sounded almost surreal, she knew Kal'tsit well enough to know the woman never made empty claims. This was real, even if Jeanne couldn't begin to fathom the underlying science behind it.
"Precisely," Kal'tsit confirmed. "We used the dead Originium fragments to induce a controlled state of Oripathy within the subject. Following that, when we exposed it to active Originium, we made a remarkable discovery: the subject demonstrated complete immunity to secondary infection. In short, low-level exposure to active Originium no longer triggers the disease."
While this breakthrough wouldn't render anyone immune to heavy, high-density Originium environments, it meant the most common pathways of contracting Oripathy could be drastically curbed.
The vast majority of the Infected across Terra had contracted the disease through incidental cuts or minor scrapes with active Originium products. A single tiny scratch was often enough to ruin an entire life. But now, that grim reality finally had a chance to change.
"This is... a monumental breakthrough," Jeanne murmured, her eyes wide as she stared at the tiny rodent in the glass box. "If this can be applied to people, it could virtually wipe out half of all future Oripathy cases across the world."
She finally understood why Warfarin had been bouncing off the walls with excitement earlier. What they held in their hands was a discovery capable of reshaping the course of history.
Oripathy, a disease branded as an incurable death sentence since time immemorial, had finally met its match. At the very least, humanity would no longer have to live in absolute dread of the Infected. It was a ray of light in an otherwise dark world.
"Do not get ahead of yourself," Kal'tsit said, pouring a cold bucket of water over Jeanne's rising excitement to pull her back to reality. "So far, success has only been achieved in a single test subject. How long it will take to move to human clinical trials—let alone mass production—remains an open question."
"Even so, we finally have a clear direction, don't we?" Jeanne remarked, letting out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "If a day comes when society no longer views the Infected as walking plagues, the deep-seated hatred between ordinary citizens and the Infected will naturally begin to heal."
She couldn't help but admire the sheer brilliance of the researchers aboard Rhodes Island. Had those inert fragments been left in her own hands, they would have remained nothing more than a pile of useless glass shards.
"Indeed. It is a future worth striving for," Kal'tsit admitted softly. Even she seemed moved by the realization that a feat long deemed impossible was now within reach. It was a rare sight to behold.
"So, what do you need me to do?" Jeanne asked, catching the subtle look in Kal'tsit's eyes. She knew the woman hadn't brought her here just to share good news; there was a favor attached to this revelation.
"There is indeed something we require your assistance with," Kal'tsit said, her posture straightening. "Our current supply of dead Originium fragments is almost exhausted. We need you to process a fresh batch of raw materials for us. Naturally, Rhodes Island will provide all the Pure Originium required for the process."
The moment the topic turned to research supplies, Kal'tsit sounded far more energized. The only downside to groundbreaking research was its insatiable appetite for raw materials.
"Oh, is that all?" Jeanne blinked, letting out a laugh. "I thought you were going to ask for something complicated! That's easy enough—I'll process a new batch for you in a bit."
She agreed without a second thought, making zero demands in return. To her, this was simply lending a hand. After all, if this project bore fruit, it would benefit everyone in the long run.
Kal'tsit and Warfarin exchanged a swift glance, both catching the subtle relief in each other's eyes. They finally had a reliable, steady supply of research material!
Ever since the medical team and senior researchers aboard Rhodes Island learned of the dead Originium, their curiosity had reached a boiling point. Dozens of research proposals had flooded Kal'tsit's desk overnight.
Kal'tsit had been plagued by their relentless nagging for days. With supplies running dangerously low, trying to divide the tiny remaining stock fairly among departments had been a massive headache.
"Wait, really?! That easily?!" Warfarin leaned in, her eyes shining with intense eagerness. "Hey, Jeanne, can you hook me up with a little side delivery through the back door? Just a small handful for my personal lab! I have a few ideas I want to test out so I can publish a paper. Otherwise, everyone out there is going to think 'Blood MR.' has kicked the bucket after being off the grid for so long!"
The vampire stared at Jeanne with such burning intensity that Jeanne felt if she offered her holy water right now, Warfarin would gladly jump into a giant tub of it and drink herself into a stupor.
"The distribution of all processed fragments will be handled with absolute fairness," Kal'tsit cut in smoothly, grabbing Warfarin by the collar. "And as for trying to cut in line through the back door—do you truly think it is appropriate to make such a pitch right in front of me?"
"I was just asking! Don't be so stiff!" Warfarin squeaked, shrinking back under Kal'tsit's glare. "Fine, fine! I'll follow your directives to the letter! I'll just head back and see if I can start drafting the theoretical portion of the paper instead!"
Seeing that Kal'tsit wasn't in the mood for jokes, Warfarin made a hasty exit before she ended up on the receiving end of a reprimand.
"My apologies for her behavior," Kal'tsit said, turning back to Jeanne once the vampire had hurried off. "I will inform the staff personally. No one will disturb you while you work on the materials."
"It's no big deal," Jeanne waved a hand dismissively. "Though I didn't expect these glass shards to be this popular."
"It represents an entirely untouched frontier," Kal'tsit explained plainly. "No one in recorded history has ever encountered this form of matter. If you were to take these fragments to Columbia and strike a deal with their tech conglomerates, the profits within a single year would be enough to purchase an entire mobile city."
Jeanne raised an eyebrow. While the notion sounded staggering, it made sense—given her complete monopoly on the creation process, she could set whatever price she pleased.
No researcher or corporation could resist the temptation of opening a path to a brand-new world, especially when the discovery had already proven capable of making history. Had Kal'tsit not kept the news tightly contained within a small circle aboard Rhodes Island, Jeanne would have been swarmed by external factions days ago.
"Well, I'll leave the high-tech sci-fi stuff to you smart folks," Jeanne said, stretching her arms lazily. "Where's the Originium? I'll convert a batch for you right now. Besides, I have a few things I've been meaning to ask you about anyway."