Arknights Chronicles One

TG - 10 Triumph & Fear

Year 1096, December 23, 19 : 22 PM
Location : Unknown Park



"Don't move."

A low, commanding female voice broke through the silence of the foggy forest, her words laced with a quiet menace. Crownslayer, one of the many feared ringleaders of Reunion, held her knife to a man's throat, her gaze locked onto him with unwavering intensity. She kept Doctor Aaron pinned to the ground, her grip on his wrist firm and unyielding as she positioned the blade dangerously close to his neck.

"One wrong move," she murmured, her voice cold, "and I slit your throat."

A flare shot up into the sky behind her, its light casting an eerie glow through the mist, but Crownslayer didn't look away. She leaned in closer, her hold tightening. "I'm looking for someone, and I know you have the information that I need."

Doctor Aaron stared back, wide-eyed and fearful, his voice shaky as he struggled to find words. "I... I don't know... anything," he stammered, his weak voice betraying his confusion and vulnerability, barely recovered from his recent ordeal.

Crownslayer's grip tightened even further as she leaned closer to Doctor Aaron, her voice sharp with irritation. "Don't tell me you forgot."

"What a bother," an indifferent, almost nagging voice interrupted, cutting through the tension. Crownslayer whipped her eyes to the side, her focus broken, to see another Reunion ringleader.

A small, white-haired child with a staff casually strolled forward, stopping just a few meters away. He gazed at her with an almost bored expression. "I thought I was supposed to be in charge of this part of the city," he drawled, letting out a tired sigh. "If you're that eager to hunt around here, Crownslayer, a little heads-up would've been nice."

Irritated, Crownslayer rose slowly from her position over Doctor Aaron, her gaze locked on the boy standing before her. The way he smiled, calm and smug, only irked her more.

"Don't worry, I'm a nice guy," Mephisto continued, his smile widening. "So if you just leave this area to me, I'll pretend I didn't see you here."

Her eyes narrowed, and a flicker of anger flashed across her face. "You're starting to get on my nerves with that attitude, Mephisto."

Mephisto's chuckle was low, filled with derision. "That's unfortunate to hear, Crownslayer. I thought we were comrades." His tone dripped with mockery, and he waved her off dismissively. "But I'll overlook that little jab—for now. So, why don't you kindly step aside? Last I checked, you had other duties to tend to, not just roaming wherever you please."

Crownslayer's irritation was clear as she shot him a sharp glare, her expression hardening. But before she could retort, the sound of footsteps echoed through the fog. She turned, noticing the Rhodes Island squad advancing, weapons drawn and aimed in their direction. Amiya stepped forward, her voice unwavering. "Stay away from the Doctor!"

The two ringleaders stood in tense silence as Crownslayer took one last glance at Rhodes Island's forces, then stepped back into the fog, vanishing. "Hmph, very well. I'll leave this place to you, Mephisto. It's a pity I won't be here to witness your defeat."

Mephisto's eye twitched, his irritation barely masked. "Big talk, Crownslayer."

Dobermann observed the exchange, her brow furrowed as she muttered to herself. "It seems they don't exactly work well together."

Mephisto gave a slight wave, his face split into a smile that seemed almost friendly. "Hello there! Apologies for Crownslayer's behaviour; she's... a bit difficult to work with sometimes."

Amiya observed him carefully, her eyes narrowing. "He doesn't seem like he's planning to attack us," she commented, though her stance remained cautious.

"Maybe so, but we can't lower our guard," Dobermann replied, her gaze fixed on Mephisto. But suddenly, an all-too-familiar sensation prickled at the back of her mind, a sharp, unnerving awareness that made her tense. It was subtle, but the air held the same dread she'd felt once before, a warning that seemed to echo through her nerves.

She glanced back into the shadows of the trees, her brows knitting in confusion as she found nothing but still sensed an unmistakable presence. "Dobermann."

The deep voice broke her focus, drawing her gaze toward Ace, who was watching her with concern. "Are you alright?"

Dobermann hesitated, then gave a short nod. "Yes... I'm fine."

Ahead, Doctor Aaron approached, his movements cautious. Amiya immediately moved toward him, positioning herself protectively between him and Mephisto. "Doctor, are you alright?"

Dobermann and Ace spoke in low tones, wondering if the white-haired child might be behind the unnatural mist. But even as they discussed it, an eerie feeling of being watched crept over Dobermann, as though an unseen gaze lingered just beyond reach.

"Everyone's alive, but we have some injured who need medical attention right away," Ace noted, his eyes scanning the group, pausing on bandages covering various wounds.

"Hm, once we're out, we'll find a safe place to tend to them," Dobermann replied, her attention shifting to the approaching Doctor. "Good to have you back, Doctor."

"Let's move quickly; we can't waste any more time—"

"Ah, looks like everyone's finally here!" A sudden voice jolted the group to attention, all eyes landing on Mephisto as he stepped forward with a smile.

"My apologies for the late introduction," he said smoothly, raising a hand. "I'm Mephisto."

"How about we play a little game together?" Mephisto's tone was mocking, his gaze fixed on the group with an unsettling calm. Dobermann scowled, gripping her weapon tighter, knowing escape wouldn't come easily.

"I knew it wouldn't be that simple." She shot a glance at Ace. "Take the others and go. I'll hold him off."

"My, my, and here I thought I was extending a kind invitation. Oh well—"

"Stop!" Ace's voice cut through the tension, drawing Dobermann's attention. She turned to him, her eyes widening as the reason for their halted escape became clear.

"It's an ambush," Ace said grimly, surveying their surroundings, where Reunion members were closing in from all sides.

"Relax, everyone. I'm not going to hurt you... yet," Mephisto said cheerfully, taking slow steps toward his team as he addressed Rhodes Island.

"After all, I find you quite fascinating." He strolled among them, casting curious glances. "I've read and heard a lot about you."

"You're a pharmaceutical company, but you do more than just tinker with tubes. You fight for the rights of the infected while staying under the radar."

"Now, that really piques my interest. Especially you," Mephisto added, pointing directly at Doctor Aaron.

"Yes, you—the one who doesn't resemble any known race. What exactly are you? Where did you come from?" he asked, his eyes gleaming with curiosity as he waited for the doctor to respond.

"Oh, how curious I am. Perhaps I should take you and interrogate yo—"

"You won't lay a finger on Doctor Aaron!" Amiya interjected, raising her hand toward Mephisto, her art at the ready.

"Oh, really? What a shame." Mephisto sighed theatrically. "If you'd agreed to my little proposal, perhaps I'd have let you and your friends go."

A sinister smile spread across his face. "Fine then, let's make this more... entertaining. Here are the rules."

He raised his voice, gesturing to his allies lurking in the shadows. "My friends will do their best to tear you apart, and you'll do your best to defend yourselves and escape this park. Simple, right?"

"Exciting, isn't it?" Mephisto's voice dripped with twisted joy, drawing Amiya's attention sharply toward him.

"The catastrophe is about to envelop the city!" she shouted, a hint of desperation in her voice. "Why are you doing this? Your own people will be in danger."

Mephisto chuckled, clearly entertained by Amiya's unexpected concern for her enemies. "What are you talking about? That's exactly what makes this game even more thrilling."

"You sick bastard! What are you after?" Dobermann snapped, her voice laced with anger and frustration.

Mephisto's laugh faded as he turned to her, his expression shifting to one of pure indifference. "What am I after?" He shrugged. "I'm not after anything."

"You're of no consequence to our plans. Whether you live or die here changes nothing," Mephisto stated calmly, his tone eerily detached.

Doctor Aaron muttered under his breath, "He's completely unhinged." Meanwhile, Ace was quietly communicating through his radio, assessing their situation.

Then, with a sudden shift in mood, Mephisto raised his hand, his voice turning light and playful once more. "But enough chit-chat. My hooded little friend..." He looked directly at Doctor Aaron, a twisted smile playing on his lips. "Please, don't disappoint me."

A tense silence fell over the rooftop as everyone froze in place—Reunion soldiers, poised and awaiting orders, and Rhodes Island, ready to defend each other against whatever came next.

". . . Begin." Mephisto's voice was icy and detached. At his command, the Reunion soldiers advanced toward Rhodes Island. Ace and his team quickly deployed smoke grenades, thick plumes billowing out to cover their retreat.

"Move! Now!" Ace's voice rang out as they dashed through the smoke, racing to escape. Behind them, Mephisto's cruel laughter echoed through the forest. "Just like Crownslayer, always hiding in the fog. Such cowards."

"You think that'll buy you time? It's pointless." He signalled to his casters with a flick of his hand. "Casters, fire."

A volley of Arts attacks tore through the air, striking some of the retreating Rhodes Islanders. Their comrades turned back without hesitation, rushing to help the wounded. A fresh wave of laughter escaped Mephisto as he watched Rhodes Island operators fall under the relentless attacks of his casters. "Yes, yes! Run back, save your wounded—your worthless struggle only makes this game more amusing!"

His laughter faltered, though, when he noticed the number of visible Rhodes Island operators dwindling. A sly grin crept across his face as he glanced toward one of the park's exits. "Oh? Trying to sneak away with your wounded, are we? How dull. But then again, a chase only adds to the excitement."

"Target G-3," he called out gleefully, directing his soldiers toward the retreating Rhodes Island team.

Meanwhile, those who stayed behind fought fiercely against the oncoming waves of Reunion soldiers. Dobermann's whip lashed out from a distance, knocking opponents to the ground with brutal efficiency. Ace was among those dealing the heaviest blows, his shield and hammer crashing into the enemy lines with thunderous force.

As he paused to catch his breath, his eyes scanned the battlefield. Suddenly, he spotted a Reunion soldier sneaking up behind one of his teammates, weapon poised to strike.

"Oi, watch o—" Ace began, but his words cut off, his eyes widening in surprise.

A cloaked, hooded figure appeared behind the Reunion soldier, gripping the soldier's wrist before he could bring his weapon down. With a swift pull, the stranger yanked the soldier away from Ace's teammate. The Reunion soldier struggled, then lunged at the cloaked man, but the stranger moved faster—a solid punch to the face sent the soldier sprawling to the ground, his mask shattering on impact.

"What the—" Ace stared, wide-eyed, at the mysterious figure looming over the fallen Reunion soldier. The man scanned the battlefield, and Ace felt a chill as their gazes locked. The figure wore a mask reminiscent of those used by Reunion, but what unsettled Ace most was the piercing crimson eye peering from behind it.

At that moment, nostalgia washed over him, and for a split second, the figure transformed into a vivid memory of Ronin, his dark grey hair framing a fierce expression. "R-Ronin?"

Then, without warning, the man vanished—no movement, no smoke, just gone, as if he had turned invisible.

The clash of metal jolted Ace from his confusion. He turned toward the sound, his bewilderment fading into a sense of calm and relief as new allies joined the battle.

"Sorry for being late," a deep female voice called out as her teammates appeared, poised to back up Rhodes Island in their time of need.

"No, don't apologize," Amiya replied, her tone warm and reassuring as she regarded their saviour in shining armour. Wielding a shield and a mace-like weapon, she turned her attention to Doctor Aaron.

"You must be Doctor Aaron, correct? My name is Nearl, Radiant Knight of Kazimierz."

"I'm here to bring you and everyone home," Nearl declared as she and her teammates began to fend off the Reunion soldiers one by one. Unbeknownst to them, someone on a nearby tree branch observed the unfolding scene.

As the last of the Reunion members fell by Nearl and her team, she stood tall and victorious before Mephisto. "Your men are sloppy."

"The ones we faced at the city stronghold posed more of a challenge than these ones." Mephisto retorted.

"You're letting your men run wild, killing innocent people for your own amusement," Nearl shot back.

"Surrender before I pass judgment," she commanded, her voice resonating with authority as she glared at Mephisto. She noticed him gritting his teeth in anger, and a sudden sense of danger prickled at her instincts.

"Faust!" Mephisto shouted, fixing his glare on Nearl. As soon as the name escaped his lips, a purple projectile shot toward her. Nearl managed to raise her shield just in time to block the attack.

"Sniper! Everyone, find cover!" she yelled, urgency threading through her voice.

"S-She blocked it?!? SHOOT HER AGAIN! BLOW HER TO PIECES!!" Mephisto roared, fury spilling over as he demanded Faust to eliminate Nearl from his vantage point in a nearby building.

Nearl quickly turned to her comrades, still holding her shield in the direction of the sniper fire. "Throw smoke grenades and run toward the exit!"

Another shot struck Nearl's shield, forcing her back a step, but she held her ground. Mephisto's expression twisted in confusion and annoyance. "Why?"

"Nearl, the wounded have been escorted. We're good to go," Amiya reported from behind a tree, speaking into her radio. "Understood. All units, fall back!"

"Why?" Mephisto repeated, frustration lacing his voice as the Reunion soldiers that Nearl and her team had knocked out slowly began to rise, staggering back to their feet. "Why won't you just roll over and die?"

"They can still stand?" Nearl remarked, her eyes narrowing as she watched the Reunion soldiers rallying towards them.

Mephisto's gaze sharpened as Nearl and her team retreated toward the exit. He clenched his fists as the Reunion soldiers failed to break Rhodes Island's defences, frustration mounting within him.

Suddenly, another projectile shot toward Nearl, but instead of hitting her directly, it struck a pillar nearby. Cracks splintered across the stone as it tilted dangerously, beginning to collapse in her direction.

"Nearl!" Amiya called out, her voice laced with urgency. Nearl reacted quickly, rolling out of the way just as the pillar crashed to the ground. Rising swiftly, she sprinted toward Amiya and Ace, who were waiting for her by the entrance of an alleyway.

Nearl and Amiya moved deeper into the alley, while Ace tossed a grenade at the Reunion soldiers attempting to pursue them. The grenade hit the ground twice before exploding, scattering the closest soldiers and blinding those further back with a thick cloud of smoke. Mephisto observed the scene from a distance, his expression betraying nothing but boredom.

"What a boring outcome," Mephisto muttered, irritation flashing across his face as Rhodes Island vanished into the alleyway. He clenched his teeth, his annoyance barely concealed. Just then, soft footsteps approached him.

"Mephisto."

He turned, surprised to see Faust and his team standing nearby.

"I'm sorry, Mephisto," Faust said, his voice calm but edged with disappointment. "I missed my shots and failed to take them down."

"What are you sorry about, Faust? This wasn't your fault," Mephisto said, casting a dismissive glance toward the alleyway where Rhodes Island had vanished. "Besides, they're not our main objective."

He shifted his attention back to Faust, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Talulah's likely already secured the control tower. I'll visit her once we're done cleaning up. We may still have a few Ursus soldiers hiding out around here."

Looking at Faust, Mephisto's smile widened slightly. "In the meantime, could I count on you to track down our little escapees?"

"Hm," Faust replied, a brief, low hum of agreement, prompting Mephisto's grin to spread further.

"Once Chernobog is fully ours, we'll let her decide the fate of these intruders," he said, his smile darkening with twisted excitement. But, in an instant, his demeanour softened as he looked back at Faust. "And be careful, Faust. Remember—you can use your men as shields if you need to. Your safety comes first."

Faust's expression remained impassive, but his men shifted uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact as they registered Mephisto's unsettling 'advice'.

Mephisto lifted his hand, palm open to his soldiers, a wide grin of excitement lighting up his face. "Let's go, my friends. Forward—" he began, his tone brimming with energy. His fingers curled slowly into a fist as he spoke, "—to our new e—"

But suddenly, his words faltered, and the joyous expression faded from his face. Mephisto's words abruptly halted, his expression shifting from exuberance to confusion, drawing his team's attention. They followed his gaze behind them, each one mirroring his bewildered look as they spotted a tall figure cloaked in a rugged, weathered blue-grey hooded cloak facing his back towards them. The stranger's face remained obscured beneath the hood as they approached the battlefield, moving with quiet purpose. Without acknowledging the onlookers, the figure knelt, seemingly scanning the ground, as if searching for something amid the aftermath of the skirmish.

The stranger stood up casually, paying no mind to the surrounding Reunion soldiers as he continued deeper into the battlefield. "Who's that?" one of the soldiers murmured, glancing at his comrade.

"Who cares."

Their attention snapped back to Mephisto, whose voice rang out, sounding bored yet commanding. "Probably just some vagrant who wandered here by mistake." His gaze sharpened with a hint of disdain. "Kill him."

The soldiers hesitated, momentarily taken aback by the casual order, but one of them stepped forward, drawing his sword as he approached the figure.

"Mephisto, is killing every bystander you see really necessary?" Faust asked, eyeing Mephisto. His tone was measured, though a hint of disapproval lingered beneath it.

"Faust," Mephisto replied, his expression innocent yet twisted with an eerie amusement. "What if he's an Ursus soldier in disguise?"

"And if he isn't?" Faust pressed.

"Then we've simply removed another piece of trash from this world." Mephisto's voice was bright, even cheerful, as he grinned. Faust's gaze narrowed, concealing his growing disgust. His attention drifted back to the lone soldier advancing on the stranger, who now knelt and picked something off the ground, seemingly unfazed by the threat drawing closer from behind.

Faust squinted, trying to make out what the stranger had picked up. "Is that... an earpiece?"

The man held the earpiece up, examining it briefly before crushing it in his hand. He stayed kneeling, seemingly oblivious to the Reunion soldier looming behind him, blade raised to strike.

In a swift motion, the soldier brought his weapon down, aiming for the stranger's neck. But just as the blade was about to make contact, the man vanished from sight.

"What the—?" The soldier stared down at his blade, now embedded in the ground where the stranger had been only a second ago. Confusion rippled through the crowd as they all looked around, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

"Where did he go?" Mephisto muttered, eyes darting around as the others scanned the area.

Then a voice broke through the murmurs. "T-There he is!" one of the soldiers stammered, pointing. All eyes followed to where the man now knelt beside a fallen Rhodes Island operator. They watched as he gently placed the soldier's hands over his chest, then swiped his hand over the soldier's face, closing his eyes in a solemn gesture.

Standing, the stranger inspected another earpiece before slipping it over his ear. With a slow, deliberate motion, he lowered his arm and turned toward Mephisto, Faust, and their team, revealing that he was wearing a Reunion mask.

"What the hell?" Mephisto muttered, eyes narrowing as he took in the stranger now wearing a Reunion mask. "Hey, who are you?" he demanded, irritation dripping from his voice.

The stranger merely looked in his direction, remaining silent, his gaze unreadable. After a brief pause, he turned, facing the exit of the park, the same path Rhodes Island had taken and began to walk slowly toward it.

"Oh? Deaf, are we?" Mephisto scoffed, watching the stranger's calm retreat.

"What should we do?" a Reunion soldier asked, waiting for Mephisto's decision as the rest of the team looked to him for orders.

Mephisto tapped a finger to his chin thoughtfully, his eyes trailing the figure whose hand rested on the earpiece he'd taken from the fallen Rhodes Island soldier. _"So, he has their earpiece. Maybe he's connected to them in some way."_

"Capture him," Mephisto ordered, a sly smile crossing his face. "We'll see if he has any useful information about Rhodes Island."

The soldiers moved swiftly, closing in on the stranger as they prepared to intercept him before he could escape the park. Weapons drawn, they sprinted toward him, while a few others raced ahead to block his exit.

The man abruptly halted, his cloak billowing in the wind, enhancing his already mysterious presence. He lowered his hand from the earpiece and surveyed his surroundings, taking note of the Reunion soldiers encircling him. "Have we finally caught your attention?" he remarked a hint of amusement in his voice.

Mephisto stepped forward, cutting through the throng of soldiers with Faust at his side. A smug grin spread across his face as he planted his staff firmly into the ground, raising his free hand to gesture toward the assembled soldiers. "I hope my friends here aren't intimidating," he said with a hint of sarcasm. "But we couldn't let you just walk away."

"But rest assured, you'll be just fine... as long as you play by the rules of my game." Mephisto's voice dripped with malice, a wicked grin spreading across his face, while Faust cast a wary glance at him, his eyes narrowed in concern.

"Here's how it works," Mephisto continued. "My friends here will capture you, and it's game over for you, or you can share what you know about Rhodes Island. In that case, we might just let you walk away." His smile widened as he scrutinized the figure before him, a glint of satisfaction sparking in his eyes as he noticed a particular detail.

"If I were you, I'd choose the latter," he added, his grin turning sinister. "You wouldn't want to lose your other arm, would you?" His taunt elicited laughter from the surrounding Reunion soldiers, who eagerly took note of the stranger's single arm, while Faust's team remained silent, their expressions tense.

"So, what will it be?" Mephisto asked, anticipation hanging in the air as he awaited the stranger's response. The figure merely gazed back at him, a piercing crimson eye-locking onto his own. A hush fell over the surrounding soldiers, and Mephisto's eyes widened in surprise as the stranger slowly began to raise his hand. For a fleeting moment, Mephisto thought he was about to surrender.

That hope was swiftly dashed when the stranger raised his hand to his mouth, a loud yawn escaping from behind his fingers.

Mephisto's expression twisted with annoyance and barely contained anger. "Very well."

"Everyone," he commanded, his voice dripping with malice, "make sure this person never gets to use his arm again." As he finished, the soldiers advanced, closing in on the stranger, who lowered his arm slowly to his side, seemingly unfazed by the imminent threat.

Faust observed the scene from the sidelines, shaking his head at his men as they prepared to close in on the stranger. With a subtle motion, he indicated for them to lower their weapons, a gesture that was quickly understood. But as he turned his gaze back to the stranger, he felt a jolt of surprise when he noticed the man staring directly at him.

Something in the way the stranger's crimson eye pierced through the mask struck a chord deep within Faust. A sense of familiarity washed over him, unsettling yet compelling. "Those red eyes... where have I-"

His thoughts raced as he tried to connect the dots. Just then, his breath caught in his throat as a shadow materialized behind the stranger. A silhouette, ethereal yet strikingly familiar, emerged in his mind, another figure with those same piercing crimson eyes.

Faust's heart raced. "There's no-"

Panic gripped him as he watched several Reunion soldiers raising their weapons, ready to strike the stranger down. In a swift motion, he glanced back at Mephisto, who was revelling in the scene before him, an evil smile spreading across his face. Faust's mind raced with the implications of what he had just seen, and he knew he had to act quickly before it was too late.

"Eno! CALL THEM O—"

Faust's urgent warning was abruptly cut off as he, along with Mephisto and the rest of the Reunion soldiers, dropped to their knees. Some collapsed entirely, while others trembled on the ground as if caught in a freezing tundra. A few stood rigid, weapons still in hand but rendered immobile, their minds struggling to comprehend the shift from boasting about their future to succumbing to a profound fear brought on by one man.

The stranger's footsteps echoed ominously, amplifying the atmosphere of dread that settled over the group. Confusion reigned; one moment, they were discussing their dominance, and now they found themselves paralyzed by an inexplicable terror.

Shaking and barely able to hold himself upright, Faust crawled to his feet, his gaze locking onto the approaching figure. The crimson eye of the stranger bore into him, never wavering as he advanced with deliberate, measured steps. Panic welled within Faust as he realized who the target truly was.

In a rush of instinct, he positioned himself in front of the trembling Mephisto, who kept his head bowed, seemingly lost in a world of fear. The stranger halted mere steps away, an imposing figure cloaked in menace. With trembling hands, Faust raised his crossbow, aiming it at the enigmatic figure before him.

Their eyes met, Faust's trembling gaze contrasting sharply with the unwavering crimson stare of the stranger. Time seemed to stretch as they stood locked in a tense standoff, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

The first move came faster than anyone anticipated when the stranger slowly raised his hand towards Faust. Eyes widening, Faust instinctively tightened his finger on the trigger of his crossbow.

As the stranger's hand hovered just above the weapon, Faust squeezed the trigger, unleashing a bolt aimed directly at the man. But to his utter astonishment, the arrow never struck its mark. The stranger deftly caught the bolt mid-flight, a feat that left Faust speechless. "What an inhuman speed."

With an effortless motion, the stranger snapped the arrow's tip, the sound echoing like a gunshot in the tense silence. He then raised his hand again, this time directly toward Faust's face. Panic surged through Faust as he realized how close the stranger was.

His heart raced, and for the first time in his life, he felt utterly helpless. The piercing gaze of the stranger locked onto him, filled with an intensity that rendered him paralyzed. At that moment, Faust knew he was outmatched and stood frozen, uncertain of what the next breath would bring.

The cold grip of fear tightened around Faust, prompting him to shut his eyes and brace for death. Moments ticked by, but the anticipated blow never came. Confused, he slowly opened his eyes to find that the oppressive cold and fear had dissipated, replaced by an unexpected warmth as he felt a hand resting on his head.

Looking up, Faust's confusion deepened. The stranger's crimson eye still locked onto him, but there was something different now—a gentleness that hadn't been there before.

With a playful ruffle, the stranger tousled Faust's hair before withdrawing his hand. Reflexively, Faust smoothed down his dishevelled locks, casting a glance around at his comrades, who remained frozen in fear, trembling in their positions.

Turning his gaze back to the stranger, Faust felt an inexplicable connection forming, but uncertainty nagged at him. "It can't be him. . . right?" he pondered, grappling with the swirling emotions that threatened to overwhelm him.

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a sudden voice crackling through the earpiece the stranger wore. The man turned sharply, shifting his pace as he walked away from Faust, urgency replacing the earlier calmness. Faust watched the man retreat into the distance, his thoughts interrupted by a groan from Mephisto beside him. Turning quickly, he knelt, supporting Mephisto as he struggled to sit up. "Eno, are you alright?" he asked, concern tightening his voice.

Mephisto didn't answer, only let out another low groan, his hand pressing against his head as if trying to ease the pain. Faust glanced back to where the stranger had last stood, hoping for a glimpse. 

But when he looked, the man was gone, vanished without a trace.



Year 1096, December 23, 19 : 20 PM
Location : Unknown



Demolished buildings lay scattered across this part of the city, marking a battlefield that had once faced the wrath of Reunion's tyrant. The place was now reduced to ashes and debris. Reunion soldiers moved through the rubble-strewn streets, combing through the wreckage as if searching for something—or someone.

Behind a partially destroyed wall, two Rhodes Island operators took cover. One clutched their side in pain, while the other, panting heavily, gripped a revolver tightly.

"Damn it... damn it..." Michael, one of the operators from Scout's team, sat on the ground behind the crumbling wall, a revolver clutched in one hand as he tried, with growing frustration, to reach Rhodes Island on the radio in the other. Beside him, his team leader, Scout, held his bleeding side, his breathing shallow and laboured.

"If they're not answering... then don't bother, Michael," Scout muttered, his voice strained. "They're probably jamming our signals."

Michael glanced at his wounded leader, then down at the radio. With a quiet curse, he set the radio aside and began to reload his revolver, each bullet slotting in with a soft glow of blue light. With a quick spin and a snap, he readied the weapon, clutching it firmly before grabbing the radio again.

"We're getting out of here, Team Leader. I promise."



To be continued in TG - 11 Reveal & Sorrow



Author note : I feel tired of waiting so I stop with the "I upload the next chapter every Friday" stuff. Hope everyone liked it and everyone who will be playing arknights tonight, good luck on getting W alter or Logos home.