Natasha

A fastidious doctor who always wears an enigmatic smile. In the Underworld where medical resources are scarce, Natasha is one of the very few doctors whom the people can turn to. Even the rambunctious Hook would politely greet her... "Hi, big sis Natasha."

"Quick, press down here! Press down hard to staunch the bleeding!" Natasha shoots a panicked look at her brother. Before her lay a man covered in bandages from head to toe, his torso twitching and twisting with severe pain as he muttered nonsense. "What are you waiting for?! Quick, hold it down!" There is anger in her brother's order and — she is sharp enough to tell — a hint of disappointment. Natasha hurries to hold onto the man's right arm, and musters all her strength to press down the cotton gauze onto his shoulder. The man lets out a heart-wrenching moan, but she can't stop until her brother orders her to. After who knows how long, the patient before her stops breathing, and she stares blankly at the lifeless body. "You did your best," her brother says. His voice returning to its usual impassive tone. "Get some rest real quick. Some of them are still waiting to be patched up." She turns over the man's red palm. His fingers are already stiff as the stench of blood fills the air. Natasha allows the smell to rile up her emotions — she know she must get used to this if she were to continue down this road.

"Excellent... excellent as always," the professor says to herself as she flips through the notes, "With your grades and clinical performance... You'll be an outstanding candidate whether you're in the hospital or in the armed forces." Natasha's pulse races, and her fingers subconsciously clench up. The professor notices her body language. "What's the matter, child? Have you got something to say?" Natasha composes herself — she wants to convey her decision with confidence and conviction. "I want to go back to the Underworld, Professor. I know I can help more people down there." The old woman is stunned for a brief moment, before slowly pushing her glasses upwards. Then, she lowers her head and continues on reading the file she is holding. "I see. That's exactly what your mother said... I wish you all the best then, Natasha." Natasha stands up and solemnly bows. As she walks through that white corridor at Belobog Medical Academy for the last time, her heart is filled with determination.

Dearest mother and father, How have you been? Please forgive me for replying so late. There's been lots of trouble in the Underworld, and the orphanage is overcrowded with the injured, so I haven't had time to do anything apart from treating the wounded. I even had to send some of the younger children to foster families in town, because I didn't want them to see the carnage inside the orphanage. As for your previous question — yes, I've heard rumors about the Supreme Guardian about to order a blockade between the Over- and Underworlds. I understand your concerns, but from my point of view, there is no way I can abandon the people down here right now. During this extraordinary state of panic, I can only hope to use my modest skills to bring a modicum of comfort to the needy. Fortunately, I know you'll respect my decision. I still remember when I was fresh out of college and Dad told me, "Anyone going into medicine to just get a decent job will come to regret their decision sooner or later." I think I understand more than ever what you meant back then. I don't know when we'll ever be able to see each other again, but I hope you can be healthy and happy. Your daughter is a big girl now, and can take care of herself, so you don't have to worry about me. Your daughter, with love, Natasha

The man lying on the hospital bed is tanned and about fifty years old. His muscles are chiseled like a sculpture, but are now covered in layers of scars and bloody stains. He is breathing heavily, his chest heaving violently — he is right at death's door. Natasha's eyes move quickly over to the patient, searching for anything fatal that could rob him of his life. She soon locates a wound on his lower left abdomen. Although it isn't large, the bleeding is constant and it's likely that his internal organs had been injured by some kind of sharp weapon. She put on a new pair of gloves and tears a large piece of bandage off the roll. She skillfully and tightly wraps it tightly around the patient's waist, pressing down on the area that is bleeding. A dark red spreads through the surface of the bandage, but Natasha maintains her pressure without betraying the slightest hint of panic. After a short while, the man's breathing is no longer rapid and the tense expression on his face eases. Natasha knows he is out of danger and has safely fallen asleep. She slowly takes off her gloves and leans against the clinic's window sill in a brief repose. "Please don't die, Oleg..." She whispers to herself as she gazes at the bed. "...There're still a lot of duties we need to complete."

Nice to meet you, I'm Natasha — an Underworld doctor. Feeling sick? Take a seat, let me take a look.

I'm in today. But that is not an excuse for misbehavior.

Today feels fighting fit.

I see all kinds of patients. Some require a gentle touch, others need a stern talking to before they take things seriously... Haha, a doctor should always use the right cure for the right person.

A patient's medicine doesn't just reveal their illness. It also offers a window into their desires and needs.

People join Wildfire for themselves, for the newborn next door without a mother, for the elderly with no home to return to.

I still occasionally practice suturing on my old teddy bear, just like in the old days.

People in the Underworld have gotten used to making the best of a bad situation. That's why I have to keep reminding myself that we're nowhere near where we need to be.

Humans long for freedom. If they go for too long without seeing the sky, they get ill... Both in body and mind.

When the childrens' parents are away in the mines, the clinic becomes a kind of nursery... Haha, to be fair, it's me who invites them. Perhaps I need them more than they need me.

Seele's already become a capable adult — I can't treat her like a child anymore.

I heard she's been looking after the wounded vagrants. What a girl... When I first met Clara, she was replacing parts for her robots like a mechanic, but leaving her own wounds unattended. It was heartbreaking to watch.

Svarog wants to preserve humanity, but he's not concerned about what humans truly think.

If I know Sampo, the last thing he wants is to owe you a favor — he'll think of any way possible to pay you back... The longer you leave a favor, the harder it is to calculate its value.

Sometimes I stand at the door of the clinic and watch her running and jumping around... and my tiredness simply goes away.

We both came from the Overworld. Maybe that's why we're so eager to turn back the clock — to return to when life below ground was no harder than life on the surface.

That kid puts up a strong front, but under the surface he's afraid of becoming a burden — that's why he trains and fights so hard... I hope one day he's able to slow down and listen to his heart.

With this strength, I can save more lives.

A doctor never stops learning.

I'll put this strength to good use.

Wise choice.

Has that wound fully healed, Seele?

Room for an "old witch," Hook?

I've got my eye on you.

Take care of yourself, Luka.

That'll take more than medicine.

Don't get careless.

Naughty children don't listen.

Time for a shot.

Seems I've been waiting a while...

You're in bad shape.

Savor the vigor of life.

Naptime.

Here comes the medicine.

All better now?

I'm okay.

That hurt...

Just in time.

Just a little something. Think nothing of it.

But I'm a... doctor...

I have plenty of medicine at the ready.

I'll be more careful.

Found you.

A delicate operation.

If there's medicine, it'll come in handy.

This is enough for me — take the rest.

These will last us a long time.

Hm, that's a healthy brain.

Cute little game~

Victory means preparation.

Hard work needs hard rest.