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You wake up again to Sticky's shaking. You don't know how many times you've done it. Fifty? A hundred? It doesn't matter. You know the routine by now.
You visit the Judge. You check on the boy's stepfather. Death taunts you. You gather medicine. The panacea shatters. You treat the Worm, visit the cathedral, find the carrier…
The day is the same as it was all the times before. The Stone Yard becomes infected. You face Death yet again, and stubbornly, you refuse. Sticky wakes you up.
It's all futile. You know this. You've known this. You're stubborn, but you're not an idiot. The day will repeat again and again until you finally accept your fate. None of your choices matter.
You drop the routine a few times. You're just so tired. You lie in bed and wait for Death to arrive to taunt you again before you start it all over.
You sit at the steps of the cathedral and stare. You wonder how Eva accepted her death so readily. You fight because you are stubborn and scared and feel so small at the mere thought of your life ending. Maybe Eva's choice was a merciful one. The thought of her with the Sand Pest is an unsettling one. You miss her. You wonder if following in her footsteps would help you escape this nightmare. You stubbornly face Death yet again. You wish you could sleep in the Stillwater.
Sticky wakes you. You do your tasks. The panacea shatters. You face Death. You think of Burakh.
Sticky wakes you. You do your tasks. The panacea shatters. You face Death. You think of Artemy.
You should've left when you had the chance. Your presence didn't help in the slightest when it came to defeating the plague. You are a coward, and you should have ran. You can't even manage to keep one small district uninfected. Maybe Death should take you. Maybe the town would be better off.
Burakh could've fixed this, with or without his miracle cure. They don't listen to you. You don't blame them anymore. The panacea shatters. You think of the Haruspex and stare at the shattered bottle until the sky turns dark.
Maybe it's time to give up. You don't.
Where has the Changeling gone? Wasn't she supposed to fix all of this? You don't trust her or her lies, but perhaps she could've kept the Stone Yard safe. Perhaps she could have cured the sick. You're the only healer who hasn't discovered a cure. A Bachelor of Medicine, yet you cannot even rise above a dropout and odd child. Pathetic.
The panacea shatters.
Your thoughts keep going back to that damn cure. Burakh did it, and he died for it, and you can't even keep it from breaking. You've tried everything, and it always fails. It shatters. Artemy shatters. You wish you could have spoken to him more, but you're stuck. You're stuck in a construct of your own mind dying a slow and painful death you refuse to accept.
What even is the Marble Nest? Death does not answer. You wake up.
You don't know how many days have passed. It's all blending in together. You take a moment to cry before it starts over yet again. Artemy shatters.
You put your hand on your chest and feel your heart beating. Is your heart truly beating as strongly as you feel it, or is this another illusion from your unconscious mind? The pawns around you don't question or worry. You have the same conversation with Death. You wake up.
You try to fly. Is this what Eva felt? Was she scared? You shatter, and you speak to Death. You wake up. Maybe you shouldn't have.
Are you even Bachelor Dankovsky anymore, or are you just Daniil? You haven't been Daniil in so long. You are afraid of that more than your own demise.
Artemy Burakh. It was foolish of you to call him "Vorakh" when the two of you first met. You knew his name, of course you did. Isidor had signed off his letters often enough for you to know what their surname was. Your correspondence with the elder Burakh was scarce, primarily concerned work, but he mentioned his son on occasion. He always wished for the two of you to meet. Would he be happy with how things turned out?
You don't want to think about it. You take another day to sleep… and another.
All you can think about is Artemy. How he would solve this, how he would protect the small uninfected population, how he would call you an idiot. You hear his voice as you follow your routine. "Stay strong, oynon," you faintly hear. "We can't do this without you." You can't tell if your brain is mocking you.
Everything blends together more and more and more. The whole facade of a town is breaking down, minute by minute. Are you dying? Stubbornness only lasts for so long. You're going to fall, just like your Thanatica. A stubborn end for a stubborn man. You hear Artemy's gentle words and curse yourself. You miss him. How foolish.
Death doesn't speak to you the next night. You don't understand. Everything was done the exact same way. Where has He gone? You don't know whether to be relieved or terrified. It starts over again.
Everything feels different. Orderlies aren't where they were before, and most of them are missing completely. You hear Artemy's voice more clearly now.
"You're stubborn, Daniil," he says. "Just hold on a few moments longer. It's almost done."
Of course you'd hear his words before your death. You wonder if he heard yours before his own.
The day keeps repeating, but Death has yet to return. It's sick of your stubborn refusal to accept your fate, you assume. It wouldn't be the first to feel that way. The air feels lighter, the scent of death less heavy. Artemy's voice is all that you can hear, so loud that it drowns out everything else. Perhaps his voice is the only sound left. Do you miss him that much? Are you that obsessed? The voice of a dead man you hardly knew rings in your ears, louder and louder as the day repeats.
You follow your routine yet can't remember the steps you took to get there. You gather medical supplies and send them out the window, the same way you've done hundreds of times before.
The panacea is safe when Cockaroo hands it to you. You're stunned, frozen in place. It's in one piece? There is no glass on the ground, no miracle cure seeping into the dirt below. You feel your eyes wet as the boy stares at you unblinkingly. You look up, and he's gone. What was the boy's name again?
You return to your lodgings earlier than usual. Aspity is absent. Sticky is there, but his friends are nowhere to be seen. You can't recall their names despite them easily coming to you before. He doesn't say a word as you stare at the bottle in your hands until nightfall.
Death has returned this night, and when you face him, you stare into his eyes as you down Artemy's panacea in one gulp.
You awake with a cough, your body jerking up. Your vision is blurry.
"Easy, easy… You need to take it slow, oynon."
Whose voice is that? That's not Sticky. It sounds so familiar. You let the gentle voice ease you back onto the cot. His hands are warm. You haven't felt warmth in what feels like years. Your throat itches quite terribly, and you have a coughing fit until your eyes water. Those same warm hands helps you sip a glass of water. Gentle hands brush your hair back from your sweat-soaked forehead.
"Thank God that your panacea finished in time, Haruspex. I would have hated to see the Bachelor go like that," another voice says. This one sounds younger, more feminine. You feel a sense of annoyance rush over you for whatever reason.
"You don't need to refer to me as God to thank me. My name is fine enough," the other responds. You can hear the smile in his tone. The girl groans, and you believe she's given him a shove. Not that a shove would do much to a man like him.
Your sight finally begins to clear. You're desperate to see the owner of those hands, of that achingly familiar voice. You need to see him. If you're dead, you'd be happy to spend the rest of the afterlife with him. You look into the blue eyes that look back with such concern.
"Welcome back, Daniil," Artemy says, fondness seeping into his words despite clear effort to hide it. You shoot up again, and when he tries to ease you back down, you weakly fight against his strength.
"You're… alive?" you rasp, barely holding back another cough. Artemy holds the glass of water up to your lips again, and you take a greedy drink.
"I think that's my line," he says. "But yes, I am alive, and so are you."
"You're alive," you repeat, your voice somehow more firm yet shakier. You use your meager strength to grab onto Artemy's shoulders. Tears wet your cheeks. "You're alive."
"Uh, yep. I'm alive," Artemy says awkwardly. He looks over to Clara for help, but she just shrugs and grins. "Let's… calm down, please."
Your desperate clinging turns into a proper hug, and you don't think you've ever felt safer than you feel in his arms. You let yourself cry real tears this time. You're unsure of how long your breakdown lasted, but the room is darker and Clara is gone. You feel exhausted and don't fight when you're eased down.
"Get some rest. Regain your strength," Artemy says. "Clara and I are handling things for now, but we can't do it without our Bachelor."
Artemy steps out of the room, and finally, finally you rest.