[Arknights] The Originium Gambit

Part 16: To kill a belief

Author's Note: So it's been a while, but what can I do right? I'm not a NEET who spends his life inside my room. I'm updating this chapter because a surge of inspiration took me over when I read snippets of Arknights' Episode 15 where Priestess goes absolutely ballistic apparently.

On the topic of that, because of said surge of inspiration, I had to rewrite around 3 thousand words worth of content for this chapter, since although it may not look like it, but I do still actively write to update this fic. Just very, very slowly.

You're not missing much anyway, in my opinion the rewrite was absolutely better than what I had originally planned it to be. As they say in China, People's Republic of, 'Patience is a bitter plant, but its fruit is sweet.'

That was my attempt at embracing the incoming Chinese Century with how absolutely retarded the US is nowadays.

In any case, enjoy reading the update! I'll come back in about a month hopefully, where my schedule SHOULD clear up and I can return to writing because oh boy, I have so many fics left un-updated.

Not gonna lie, the stress had definitely catched up to me these past fucking months. My regular barber also said that my hair is graying more and I haven't even touched 2 decades of life yet.

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Mmm...

You know, this cupcake is delicious. It's not every time you find a good pastry shop in the middle of Ursus. Mostly because no one could afford it, or rather, they didn't want to spend a day's worth of salary in expensive snacks when they have a family to feed.

Oh, you're here. Apologies, I didn't notice. Let me just... there, cupcake crumbs wiped away. Now I look presentable.

You know, I don't talk much about Ursus. Not really. Aside from the occasional stroll down that blood-soaked boulevard called memory lane; which, frankly, isn't exactly brimming with cheerful postcards.

But since you've come all this way, and I'm in a mood to overshare... fine. Let's talk.

Hm?

You want to know where Talulah is? She's Doing her whole "torchbearer of the people" routine. Screaming into microphones. Staring dramatically at maps. Very revolutionary. Very tragic. Very on-brand.

Me? A leader? Hah! Don't insult me. I'm not the sort to stand on podiums or die gloriously on the frontlines. No, no. That's a job for martyrs and fools. I am the one who moves pieces across the board and grins when the king falls. Charismatic? Obviously. Devastatingly intelligent? You've noticed. But a leader? Not a chance.

Now, about this "revolution."

A tired word, isn't it? Wrapped in idealism, soaked in blood. It's the anthem of the desperate. Let's call it what it really is, a reorganization of priorities. A recalibration of power. A correction of errors. A hostile takeover, if you prefer the corporate lingo.

So let's play a game.

Hypothetically. Suppose you wanted to coup a country-say, Ursus. Suppose this ragtag, underfunded band of Infected pariahs-Reunion, bless their misguided souls-suddenly decided to pivot. From bomb-throwers to kingmakers.

How would they do it?

Take a look at this half-eaten cupcake. No, really. Look. What do you see? Crumbs? Chaos? A mess?

No.

You're seeing it wrong. That, my dear friend, is Ursus.

The frosting? That's the aristocracy. Gilded nonsense. Empty calories. All flourish, no substance. The pomp and circumstance. The generals, the ministers, the drunkards draped in medals. A distraction.