Split | Arknights One-shot

Split

This wasn't supposed to happen.

A scream was ripped from Leonhardt's throat as he rushed forward, swinging down his staff to mix the Abyss monster in front of him with the dirt, then he dropped. He did not need to see if the monster had died or not. He made sure the force of his arts were more than enough to split a person's skull open.

He grabbed on to the person in front of him, a wound made from a tentacle puncturing through both flesh and bone in the right knee, and a large thorn sunken deep into his chest. Gingerly, he held on to the person's clothes, then brought the person closer. He attempted to hold back more of his tears, but failed miserably.

Leonhardt screamed as if he was the one in pain. As if he was the person who had taken the wounds that were meant for him.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

The cuts on the person's face were deep. The light drizzle in the air mixed with the blood, causing it to drip from his face. The smell of iron was strong in the air. The blood was flowing everywhere. It was on his face, on his clothes, on the ground, on Leonhardt's hands.

"No..." Leonhardt managed to force out. "Please, no..."

He looked at the thorn and contemplated taking it out. But no, it would simply cause more blood to leak from the wound. No medics would come to save them, they were on their own.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

The fight against the Abyss. Every operator knew it was coming. The warning signs had been there. Yet this... this? No one was prepared for this. Even after all the intense training they had undertaken. Even after most of them were able to go one-on-one against the walking Catastrophe, Skadi herself, for a few minutes. One of the elite soldiers made to fight against the monstrosities from the Abyss.

It wasn't enough.

Within minutes there were casualties. An elite like 12F went down in the next five. Soon, the battlefield was littered with casualties. Most on the side of Rhodes Island.

The operators of Rhodes Island were barely holding on. Even with the combined might of everyone, the morale boosts from Elysium and Mrtyle, it wasn't enough.

Leonhardt himself was not sure if those two were still alive, even though they were placed at the very back of formation.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

And now, he felt as if his heart had been ripped into two.

What was the point of trying anymore. What was the point of this fight. This struggle. Nothing can be gained. More people will just be lost. Just like Ayer-

No, please no.

Leonhardt grabbed the person's hand gently, feeling around for a pulse. Fresh tears emerged once he felt it. But it was faint. It was too faint.

He was alive, but only for now. Perhaps for the next few seconds, the next few minutes, or the next few hours.

But he wasn't dead. He wasn't dead-

But soon, Leonhardt's mind whispered to him, like an unrelenting poison. Soon, he will die and it will be because you couldn't hold his back. This is your fault. Your fault. Yourfault. YourfaultyourfaultyourfaultYOURFAULT.

Leonhardt cried out again, waving his staff in the air. Not only did he learn arts that allowed people to be protected from the harmful effects of Originium for a while, he learnt some that would allow people to not be found. Become invisible, for a set period of time. Unless they were actively looked out for in the battlefield. In that case, they were goners.