[Arknights] The Originium Gambit

Part 15: Rodina

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

The Story's gonna update weekly if things go as it is right now. Been busy, but hopefully with Christmas rolling around I'd get more time to write.

Turns out, we'd wandered into Ursus territory. Figures, right? The Rhodes Island landship was parked near Lungmen, which is technically on the fringes of Yan but close enough to Ursus to make things interesting—or, in our case, a problem.

Now, remember when I mentioned being a patriot? Turns out patriotism doesn't count for much when you've been branded a traitor. Walking into an Ursus city would be like handing them my head on a silver platter. Capture and execution for treason?

Yeah that's not exactly a welcome home party.

Talulah wasn't any better off. For her, the stakes weren't just high—they were sky high. Let's just say her reasons for staying incognito in Ursus are obvious enough that even a halfwit could figure it out. Leader of a terrorist organization? Yeah, she'd be public enemy number one.

We stumbled upon a snow-covered village after a while. Quaint little place, if you could look past the biting cold and the general aura of despair that seems to cling to everything and everyone in Ursus. And guess what? Talulah speaks Ursine. Fluently. She let it slip during our smoke-filled trek that she was raised in Ursus, though she conveniently skipped over the finer details.

Not that I was going to press—some stories tell themselves, eventually.

Of course, neither of us could just waltz into town as we were. For me, being a deserter is bad enough, but for her? She's a practically a walking, talking, revolution poster. One glimpse of her face and half the village would sell us out for a loaf of bread and a warm coat.

So, naturally, the smart move was to conceal our appearances. For me, that meant covering up my crystallized arm, which isn't exactly subtle. For her? Well, it wasn't just a matter of throwing on a scarf. No, Talulah's entire body screamed problem. Specifically, her head.

See, here's the thing, Talulah's a Draco. And being a Draco comes with this lovely anatomical feature called horns. Big unmistakable horns sprouting out of her head like neon signs saying, "Hi, I'm different, please report me to the authorities!"

Now, you might wonder, "Why's that such a big deal?" Well, if you've got functioning eyeballs and even a half-decent amount of common sense, you'd know there are little to no Dracos in Ursus—or anywhere else around here, for that matter. They're not even natives. But you know who else has horns, white hair, gray eyes, and whose face is plastered across every wanted poster across the domain where the Tsar's authority touches?

Her, I'm talking about her.

Then let me give you a trick that's practically foolproof. It's rooted in basic psychology: distract people's brains and they'll fill in the blanks themselves. Misdirection is key, and nobody's better at it than me.

Talulah, however, looked less than convinced.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" she asked, her voice heavy with skepticism as she fiddled with the oversized woolen shawl I'd draped over her horns.

"Trust me," I said, adjusting the fabric and stepping back to admire my handiwork. "This is Ursus. Half these people can barely read, let alone scrutinize strangers. Just keep your head down, act cold and tired, and let me do the talking."

Talulah narrowed her eyes, unimpressed with my logic. "That's your grand plan? 'Act cold and tired?' Aren't you a village boy? How come you can read?"