[Arknights] The Originium Gambit

Part 13: Crime and especially Punishment

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Okay... if you read my announcement, this was supposed to be about another thing. And why did it take too long to release? Well, you'll see soon enough.

Ahh~

The constant ringing in my head was like a symphony of migraines since Priestess decided to inhabit me—or whatever it is she's doing. It was bad enough that I stumbled my way out of that cursed room, nearly toppling over the railings. Not that it wouldn't be preferable to sharing my body with a cosmic parasite.

Her lover, she said? Ha. I don't have time for cryptic riddles about some ancient soap opera. I've got a corporate crisis to avert—the SOC isn't going to hold itself together if it splinters apart, and I can't afford distractions. Yet, for once, Priestess is eerily quiet. No mocking quips, no spectral visions dancing in the edges of my sight. A silver lining, perhaps.

Alright. How do I get off of this landship?

I stumbled into the hallway, forcing my mind to realign with reality. Deep breaths, Romanov. Pretend everything's normal. Just another day in the life of a schizophrenic, metaphysical lunatic. Landships like this are practically floating cities—cafeterias, offices, medical bays, recreation rooms. Enough amenities to make you forget you're trapped in a glorified box.

Turning a corner too abruptly, I bumped into someone. Without looking, I muttered a quick apology and kept moving.

"Hold it!" a sharp voice called out.

I froze mid-step, a sense of recognition prickling at the back of my neck. That voice.

I turned, plastering on my signature smirk like armor. "Ah, Officer Ch'en. Fancy running into you. Here for law exams, or is this a social visit?"

There she was, officer Ch'en erself, radiating that signature blend of authority and irritation. Her eyes narrowed, and I could practically hear her internal monologue screaming for patience.

Before I could add another quip, she unsheathed her sword in a fluid motion, pinning me to the wall in an instant. The cold steel kissed my neck, dangerously close to an unintentional haircut. Or a decapitated head.

A, a, ah, Romanov... I wouldn't want my host dead just when I've settled in, Priestess purred in my head, her voice like a coiled snake.

Oh, fantastic. She decided now was the perfect time to chime in.

I cleared my throat, doing my best to maintain a diplomatic tone despite the blade at my throat. "Officer Ch'en, might I remind you this is technically battery and assault on a civilian who has been repeatedly proven innocent—"

"Save it, Romanov." She pressed the blade just a fraction closer, her eyes burning with unspoken accusations. "You're not slipping through my fingers this time."

I gave her my most disarming smile, as if I wasn't staring down the business end of her sword. "Slip through? Officer, your grip is as tight as your—"

"Finish that sentence, and I'll finish you," she snapped.

Oooh, I like her, Priestess crooned in my mind. She's fiery. Are all your women this... stab-happy?

Please, don't flatter yourself, Priestess.

The last thing I needed was for her to start assuming I had some "history" with Ch'en beyond exposing her as an Infected in front of a jury and lying my way out of court. Granted, that didn't help my current predicament either.