[Codename] Entelechia
[Gender] Female
[Combat Experience] Confidential
[Place of Birth] Kazdel
[Birthday] December 31
[Race] Sarkaz
[Height] 168 cm
[Infection Status]
According to medical examination, confirmed as non-infected.
Physical Strength: Excellent
Battlefield Mobility: Excellent
Physiological Endurance: Excellent
Tactical Planning: Outstanding
Combat Skills: Excellent
Originium Arts Adaptability: Excellent
Entelechia, a member of Kazdel’s intelligence network “Riverside of Roses,” once provided information to Babel. During the Londinium War, she voluntarily made contact with Rhodes Island and now remains on board as a visitor. It’s important to note that Entelechia does not have a formal contract with Rhodes Island; all her collaboration with Rhodes Island is considered a personal commission.
Imaging tests indicate that all of this operator’s internal organs appear normal, with no unusual shadows; tests for Originium particles in her circulatory system show no abnormalities and no signs of Oripathy infection. She can be confirmed as currently non-infected.
Cell-Originium Fusion Rate: 0%
Entelechia shows no signs of Originium infection.
Blood Originium-Crystal Density: 0.09 u/L
You could say we were the ones giving her a checkup, but it felt more like she was the one examining herself. She sat there, wearing a beautiful smile, right in the middle of the medical room, directing her own blood to fly between our instruments. Whenever her blood floated somewhere, all of us in the room had to rush over to operate whichever machine it ended up in… All my years in the Medical Department, I’ve never been so frazzled. I’ve also never run through a full physical that fast: ten minutes, start to finish—ten minutes!
—A Certain Medical Operator
Look at these results… what gorgeous blood. She took her blood sample with her when she left? You didn’t stop her? Absolutely not. We have to find a way to get her back for another checkup.
—Warfarin
[Permission Record]
“What brings you here, Entelechia?”
“Visiting an old friend, Ascalon.”
“Using a friendly tone doesn’t change my assessment of you. ‘Riverside of Roses’ had no part in Babel’s endgame. Rhodes Island’s safety today is owed only to S.W.E.E.P. Knowing this and still claiming loyalty to ‘Riverside of Roses’—if you’re not a sentimental fool, you must have an ulterior motive. S.W.E.E.P. will be keeping an eye on you.”
“No need to trouble your little subordinates with that, hmm? I’ll regularly submit my activity reports—deal, Ascalon?”
“…No.”
[A piece of footage regarding Entelechia, submitted to Ascalon]
“Honestly, you’re all fine people, except you come up with some ridiculous ideas. I was away on business for half a month, and you went around my approval to secretly set up that so-called ‘Riverside of Roses Safehouse’ lounge. Let’s not even get into where you heard the term ‘Riverside of Roses.’ Do you really know what it means?”
In front of Randy, the veteran group leader of the Logistics Department, the few operators being admonished looked at one another and unanimously chose to remain silent.
“You don’t know. If you did, you wouldn’t have put together that cutesy pink flower room. You haven’t given any thought to how special ‘Riverside of Roses’ is or who Entelechia really is. You read a few spy novels and threw together something ridiculous. It’s a bad look—very bad.”
They still didn’t reply, only letting their gazes drift upward.
“Get rid of that lounge before dawn—”
The old team leader’s words cut short. An icy touch brushed his cheek; the operators in front of him had already fainted from fear.
He lifted his head to see a six-legged monster draped in a crimson membrane, hanging upside-down from the ceiling, casually brushing a giant scythe against his face. Moments later, the old team leader also passed out.
Entelechia flipped down from the ceiling, dusted off her skirt, retracted the mechanical limbs at her waist, and tucked them back under her skirt.
…
“Randy, you’re finally awake. To be honest, you’ve never actually seen the ‘Riverside of Roses’ airship, have you? But you were here from the days when this place was still Babel, so at least you know the ‘Riverside of Roses’ isn’t just some tea party affair.”
He said nothing.
“No need to tear down the lounge. I don’t dislike it. The little ones think a person from Kazdel might enjoy sitting in a flowery room, having tea—that’s not exactly offensive. Maybe a part of me hopes their childish fantasy could come true.”
“They made quite a show of it. Won’t that draw unwanted attention your way?”
“It’s fine. If people’s curiosity is stirred, the solution isn’t a ban, but rather a good story. In that sense, I should thank those kids for weaving such fairy-tale-like stories.”
“Hmm, that familiar plastic smell! These are the wings from that batch of drones scrapped in Londinium! Who attached them to my back!? Dammit, I can’t reach…”
“No need to take them off, it’s fine. These cute little wings really do suit you, Closure.”
“Blood crystals…? Yours…? You’re just giving these to me?”
“Wake up, Warfarin, that’s your own blood—you drew it yourself for an experiment last time.”
“Ah, it’s my broken ring. And it’s been turned into such a pretty ornament… how nice.”
“Amiya, a ring is always meant to be a pretty accessory, you know.”
“This is Mon2tr’s crystal structure… Where did you find the material for this headband?”
“Right where you resurrected last time, Kal’tsit… But that’s not really the point, is it? Turn your head so I can see the side.”
—Lately, many Rhodes Island operators have reported suddenly discovering an accessory on themselves out of nowhere, at which point they also notice a Vampire tilting her head to admire the piece.
[Audio Log]
Doctor, tilt your head down a bit so you don’t pinch your hair… All done. It fits you perfectly.
It’s a pity you wear a hood most of the time, so the best ornament you could have is probably just the adjustable toggle on the hood.
What’s it made of? You don’t recognize it? It’s from an empty ampoule of that Sanity-restoring fluid you drank. There are plenty more in that wastebasket over there.
…Of course it’s not a prank. Look, I have one just like it. See? I call this little piece “Pomegranate.”
You think it’s pretty, too? Yes, though it’s a crystal of tainted blood, it’s not ugly. Unfortunately, my sisters don’t think so. Maybe they’re embarrassed, or afraid to ask why I wear a crystal of tainted blood. But each time they see “Pomegranate,” they can’t hide the revulsion in their eyes.
It’s perfectly straightforward: most pureblooded Vampires pursue perfection, and a perfection-seeker despises imperfections most. They’ll admire their own pure blood again and again, but won’t even glance at the “tainted” blood cast aside in the purification process.
Hard to understand, right? A Vampire’s pursuit of perfection is indeed beyond normal comprehension. Even if I tried, I couldn’t explain to you what sort of “beauty” lies at the end of all that “purification” and “ascension.” It’s a level of beauty that’s determined solely by the pursuer’s own obsession—a splash of vivid “meaning” we’ve found in this otherwise dull land.
So sometimes, I find that I appreciate the thirst for that meaning more than the perfection itself. It’s a lovely momentum. And the only testimony of that thirst is the tainted blood stripped away and discarded during “purification.” Sometimes, a flaw is the best adornment to perfection—don’t you agree?
Haha, indeed.
Hmm? You want to give me a gift in return? Don’t misunderstand—this isn’t a gift. Hanging these ornaments on you all is just something I do to pass the time. The day I truly want to give you something… hasn’t arrived yet.
[Permission Record]
No point in searching so hard. “Riverside of Roses” rarely left any traceable paper documents—they place more trust in their own memories.
Do you have a notebook and pen? I can dictate some facts about Entelechia’s past identity.
Entelechia was one of the founding members of “Riverside of Roses.” Throughout all its years in operation, she served as the cleanup specialist.
Normally, she would receive intelligence from a returning vessel and then deliver it to the right place at the right time.
If any vessel caused too big a ripple, she would smooth it over—convincing certain people to believe one story and making others forget certain facts, such that a bloody incident might disappear from public consciousness.
If a vessel sank in the bloody river, she would retrieve the wreckage: recovering remains, reclaiming identities, salvaging their sources of intelligence; scrubbing traces, eliminating leads, removing witnesses—and, if possible, she’d go punish whoever killed her allies.
Entelechia’s caution and attention to detail surpass our imagination. For the proud vessels of “Riverside of Roses,” either they can handle the aftermath entirely on their own, or they must call on Entelechia to do it for them.
On the seventh day after Adalyn disappeared, a blood-soaked woman knocked on my door.
I’ll admit, I panicked the moment I opened it. I wasn’t sure if she was here begging for help or here to kill, nor could I decide whether to let her in or slam the door.
But her scent was so familiar—very close to Adalyn’s. Mustering my courage, I asked if she was Adalyn’s kin or same race, if she knew where Adalyn had gone.
Her expression didn’t flicker, but I clearly saw her fingertips hook around the enormous scythe behind her back. I realized I wanted to run, but I was so drained these seven days—barely a proper meal—that my legs quivered beneath me.
Luckily, she didn’t strike.
“Adalyn always said you had a good nose; looks like she was right.” She offered a faint, almost imperceptible smile as she handed me a letter and a small porcelain bottle.
“It was an accident. She dictated what’s in the letter before her death… And as for this little bottle, you’ll know what’s inside when you smell it.”
I knew. Even if reduced to ashes, I’d recognize that scent. I wished it were just her perfume, or something else carrying her smell… but a horrible hunch seized me: it might be… her…
“My condolences.” She shut the door. I never heard her footsteps walking away.
I don’t know how long I stood there in the entryway, or whether I even cried. I only remember my first thought once I snapped out of it: to get a rag and wipe up the blood she’d left behind—because once blood dries, it’s hard to clean.
But when I opened the door again, I saw the floor tiles were spotless, not a single drop of blood. It was as if everything had been a dream. Right then, I had another thought: I’d better get something to eat, because I still had to keep living.
—Testimony from a Victorian who once had a special relationship, kept under investigation. This record was intercepted by Entelechia and never made it into Victoria’s intelligence archives.
[Permission Record]
“I wrote the letter, and I made her ashes using her blood. That’s all there is to it. Surely I don’t need to report trivial matters like this to you.”
“Entelechia, I said you needn’t erase every single trace of the departed… but neither do you need to look after all their unresolved ties. That relationship was only formed out of mission requirements; the other party was merely an outsider with no direct link to ‘Riverside of Roses.’ He didn’t even know his beloved’s real name.”
“If you’re worried it might leave unnecessary trails, you’re overthinking it. I just believe no relationship ought to end groundlessly or inexplicably. Even if he’s only an outsider… he deserves an explanation—one final farewell.”
[Audio Log]
Want a bedtime story, Amiya?
There was once a Vampire princess who went around asking many people the same question: “What is a farewell?”
The lord of the Vampires denied the meaning of farewells. Those who failed to follow him on his path of “purification” were unworthy of so much as a backward glance.
The elder of the Carrion Eaters likewise denied the meaning of farewells. The dead merely become nourishment for the living—life is one continuous whole.
Kazdel’s general also denied the meaning of farewells. He knew better than anyone how many goodbyes his path would wreak upon the world, so the only parting he would tolerate was pushing on to the bitter end, no matter the cost.
Only the Sarkaz King did not deny the meaning of farewells. She refused to explain away the sorrow of separation with any alternate interpretation. For that reason, she never left anyone without saying goodbye.
In that moment, the princess found the answer she recognized. And at that very moment, the princess turned around—finally—and looked at me. She didn’t ask my thoughts. Instead, she sent ribbons of blood into my veins, dredging up all the lost faces I thought I’d forgotten: some were family I lost in a childhood Catastrophe, others were friends whose corpses I’d dissolved just recently. Then she took a blood-thread across my cheek, lifting tears I didn’t even know I’d shed, letting me see their color in the sunlight.
She said she hoped I would grasp farewells and learn sadness, then watch with her as Her Highness Theresis’s vision became reality.
…And that’s how I ended up as “Riverside of Roses’” cleanup specialist, without really understanding what Her Highness Theresis’s ideals were, or why the princess believed in them. Look at me now—I’ve become too well-versed in farewells, too familiar with grief. Even under a calm sky, these clinking blood crystals left by my fallen sisters echo in my mind.
Amiya, you also have that same sadness clinking around in your head, don’t you? I can see how you’ve changed, and I can smell it in your blood. It doesn’t have that sweet-and-sour tang from when you were little. People are like that, Amiya. Sometimes, all it takes to willingly step down a one-way path is a single person, a single bond, a single influence… rather frightening, right?
So, from now on, be careful who you form bonds with. Isn’t that right, Amiya?
Entelechia seldom talks about herself, and even if she does, she’s likely—out of an intelligence operative’s instinct—to weave highly suggestive lines into what seems like genuine confession. Amiya, I hope you’ll treat her with caution.
Entelechia never fully commits to any one faction or any single ideal. Her stance depends only on her promises and oaths to people. On one hand, that can make her extraordinarily reliable at times; on the other, it means she can be elusive. After all, those promises and oaths are tangled together—we can’t predict where they’ll ultimately lead her. Perhaps only Entelechia herself knows.
—Kal’tsit
Or maybe she doesn’t know, either.
——■■■
A woman sliced through the magical barrier I’d spent three months barely managing to crack, like brushing away a layer of snow with her fingertip. I tried to stand, but her scythe had already reached my neck. A scythe… so this woman must be Entelechia.
“Placing such a frail killer at the riverside where roses bloom—are they trying to warn me, or insult me?”
“I’m no killer, Ms. Entelechia of ‘Riverside of Roses.’”
“If you’re here sightseeing, these roses are indeed worth a look. But I’m wondering how a mere sightseer broke through the seals blocking the entrance and strolled right into our very first safehouse, calling me by name—seems a bit more complicated.”
“I can’t say I noticed whether the roses are beautiful; their thorny stems made the journey rather difficult. As for how I got here… I spent nineteen years discovering your existence, five years finding this place, and three months cracking the barrier, just to appear here now.”
“For someone as frail as you, half a lifetime. Why?”
“My foster father only left me the words ‘Riverside of Roses’ before he died. He swore, when he adopted me, that if I followed him, then even in death he would secure my right to choose my own life. ‘Riverside of Roses’ is the answer he left behind.”
“So touching. But sadly, your intel is outdated. ‘Riverside of Roses’ no longer exists. And even if it did, how would it help you? If I refuse you, you’ve learned too much to walk away alive. If I accept you, your frail halfblood body would only dissolve into sludge midway through ‘purification.’”
“I know that ‘Riverside of Roses’ disbanded.”
“Then why keep pressing forward?”
“I just can’t bear to think my foster father’s death was unrelated to his oath—that this vow he repeated to me countless times ended in nothing. If going down this path means throwing my life away, then please finish it for me, Ms. Entelechia. ‘Purify’ me.”
“Hmm… no. I’ve changed my mind. It’s true ‘Riverside of Roses’ has dispersed, but no one ever said it can’t be rebuilt. If this is how you treat an oath, then even if you aren’t a Vampire, I can be sure of your loyalty. Anyway, there’s nobody left to tell me what rules ‘Riverside of Roses’ should have.”
Entelechia withdrew her scythe and reached out a hand.
—While escorting a Rhodes Island squad to a safe zone, the first “Riverside of Roses” vessel who was not a Vampire recounted her initial encounter with Entelechia.