Because I Am Surtr

Ah... it seemed quite a few people had no intention of following the script. Look, hadn't someone just woken up?

—Need to hurry to the Sarcophagus and fish that guy out... no, catch him.

—But... where was the Sarcophagus?

She tilted her head slightly. Amid the noisy, chaotic, panicked air, a faint sweet scent caught her attention—she saw an ice cream cart abandoned by the roadside, with an elderly Ursus man hurriedly gathering his belongings. She walked over with light steps and reached out, catching a signboard just as it was about to topple over. While the Ursus man thanked her profusely, she glanced at the three-flavor ice cream on display.

"Sir, could you sell me an ice cream?" she asked politely, taking several distinctively Ursus coins from her pocket.

"Hm? Oh..." The Ursus shopkeeper froze for a moment, then clumsily took an ice cream from the freezer and handed it to her. He did not take her money, and upon seeing her pretty face beneath the hood, he instinctively warned her—

"Miss, there's going to be a huge mess in the city. You should find somewhere to hide too."

Surtr smiled and nodded. By the time she left, the two coins had somehow slipped into the ice cream cart owner's pocket. And as she departed, the ice cream cart quickly started up and drove toward the other end of the street.

She rather liked ice cream—even after having her core replaced, even after the memories in her mind had multiplied tenfold or a hundredfold and could no longer trouble her. Surtr still rather liked ice cream. Whether expensive or cheap, whether hazelnut chocolate or fruit popsicles, she liked them all.

Because the cold helped her stay calm. And sugar could bring her inspiration.

And just as she enjoyed her ice cream, the corner of her eye casually—and "coincidentally"—swept across a building. She saw a pale red shadow, difficult for ordinary people to discern, flash between the buildings. Her dynamic vision even allowed her to see the red shadow's pointed ears and tail.

It was Red, a Rhodes Island operator. Red.

Surtr was not particularly surprised to see her here. After all, this operation in Chernobog was one that Amiya would personally lead. How could that big cat, Kal'tsit, possibly refrain from sending eyes and ears over here?

This was a good thing.

Miss Surtr shook her head slightly, swallowing the three-flavor ice cream in two bites. Then, accompanied by a sudden gust of hot wind, her form vanished without a trace.

—Look, wasn't there now a guide to the Sarcophagus?

Caught a Little Red Riding Hood

Wind could distort light and render things invisible—some blanket king from the neighboring Moon World certainly had quite a bit to say about that.

And although Miss Surtr had not yet dreamed much about the Moon World, especially not the FGO series of worlds, that did not stop her from learning this skill in advance and putting it to use. After all, wind was merely the interaction of air currents, and the source of those currents was the shifting of thermal energy.

If she ever dreamed of FGO, she could make herself a two-handed sword, wrap it in a wind barrier, and pretend to be the red-haired blanket king—Miss Surtr thought absentmindedly. At that moment, she was concealed within a wind barrier that enveloped her entire body, silently following the little wolf as she sped through the streets and between the buildings.

She knew Red—one-sidedly. Back when she had been a player in Arknights in her previous life, Red had been the operator displayed on her home screen for a long time. She liked Red's soft voice, her childish yet pure personality, and the fluffy texture of her hair and ears that seemed tangible even through the screen. Her urge to pet Red was as strong as Red's own urge to pet Lupo tails. Unfortunately, this was not the right time.

After all, Red did not know Surtr in this world. Red had only been recruited—or rather, adopted—by Kal'tsit after Persephone, that awful woman, sealed herself inside the Sarcophagus. She had entered into a contract with Kal'tsit: Rhodes Island provided payment, while she provided killing and the services derived from it. And Red had an especially unusual habit. For anything unfamiliar, so long as it came within five centimeters of her, the petite Lupo maiden would only respond in one way.

—Red cuts it off.

Simple, brutal, and not open to discussion.

Miss Surtr was not worried that the "rubber toy" in Red's hand would cut her fingers. For a top-tier caster like her, controlling Originium or non-Originium energy inside and outside her body to strengthen her physical shell had long become an instinctive response. Unless she switched bodies while handing over her earnings, most conventional weapons or simple physical attacks could not inflict any effective damage upon her.

She was not worried about getting hurt. She was worried that Red might be upset by her or form a bad impression of her. A tool was a tool, but when they met normally, she still hoped to receive a smile.

—I still want to give Red's tail a good petting. I wonder how Red, who always wants to pet other Lupo, feels when someone pets her own tail?

She thought this as scorching wind swirled around her, sealing away every trace of her scent and optical outline, leaving only a narrow field of vision to observe the surroundings. She landed lightly atop a towering but empty building. At the edge of her vision, Red swiftly knocked down two Ursus guards who remained dutiful at their posts even at a time like this, then infiltrated a huge, pitch-black building of unknown purpose.

Ah... she was there.

She stood atop the high-rise and waited for several minutes.

And just as she had expected, a few minutes later, Red abruptly emerged from a shadowed intersection. Her slightly blank little face carried faint confusion as she inspected her surroundings, her keen pointed ears twitching.

As expected, as Kal'tsit's private force and Rhodes Island's secret unit, this Little Red Riding Hood possessed intuition and vigilance beyond ordinary expectations. Unfortunately for her, those tricks were somewhat insufficient against Miss Surtr.

The gap was one of experience, not ability. Miss Surtr had truly eaten more salt than Red had eaten rice. After all, Little Red Riding Hood was neither Shuang's goose nor FGO's fox. She could hardly have had the experience of falling into a rice jar, while Surtr had genuinely spent long years in the dream world.

Therefore, after Red vanished for the second time, Surtr remained atop the building, maintaining only simple visual surveillance.

Her thoughts turned slightly as she sensed the noise and abnormalities throughout the city.

—The level of chaos was declining. The remnants of the Reunion Movement and Chernobog's survivors seemed to have reached some sort of peaceful agreement to weather the crisis together. Police and militia had begun taking to the streets to maintain order, constantly guarding against the Flame of Incineration, which had appeared briefly outside the city before disappearing without a trace.

—Talulah's location still could not be pinpointed. Her aura flickered in and out throughout the city. Either she was doing it deliberately, or some special environment had sealed away her presence and sense of existence. At present, all that could be confirmed was that she had not left the surrounding area.

—Misha was still moving and had already reached Chernobog's outer district. There also seemed to be some noisy commotion in that direction. Obviously, it was Alex, codenamed FrostNova. The brother and sister should meet, then. Hopefully W could talk sense into that chuuni boy whose mind had been clouded by prejudice.

The flame-haired Sarkaz considered this, and just as the thought crossed her mind, she saw Red emerge from another patch of shadow. Her gaze toward the surrounding streets was now filled with even deeper bafflement and confusion—perhaps she truly thought her own nerves were simply too tense.

So Surtr turned around.

This time, Miss Surtr's figure silently drifted down from the rooftop. She landed lightly two meters behind Red. Her shadow concealed itself within Red's silhouette—silent, traceless, without breath, without airflow, not even the dissipation of heat. And Red noticed nothing.

When Red moved forward, she moved forward as well.

When Red looked around, she adjusted her position too.

When Red bypassed the staff and guards, whether flustered or dutifully holding their posts, she made corresponding movements.

And the depths of the Sarcophagus gradually unfolded before them both.

Red felt confused.

Fifteen minutes ago, Kal'tsit had sent her a message. She had told her that if she saw a red-haired Sarkaz woman in Chernobog carrying a burning greatsword, she was not to do anything unnecessary and was to obey that person's commands directly. If that person did not appear, then she was to carry out her previously assigned task—

—Enter Chernobog's Sarcophagus and ensure that an "important person" was in the proper position.

Red did not know who that "important person" was. She only knew that Kal'tsit needed that person alive, and that Amiya would soon arrive here with a medical team. According to the contract, what she was supposed to do was hide herself after ensuring the "important person" survived, thereby concealing the fact that Doctor Kal'tsit had taken an interest in this operation. Once Amiya's team had successfully transferred the "important person," she would have to leave swiftly and head to another area to do something else.

She did not know, nor was she interested—and Doctor Kal'tsit had repeatedly instructed her, "Just confirm it from a distance. Absolutely do not get too close to the Sarcophagus."—but she did have some guesses about the "fiery-haired Sarkaz woman wielding a greatsword." Once, while handing over a mission report in Doctor Kal'tsit's office, she had seen a beautifully framed group photograph on Doctor Kal'tsit's desk. One of the people standing beside Kal'tsit happened to match every description she had heard.

That must have been someone very important to Doctor Kal'tsit—at the time, that was what Red had thought.

Red's brief time at Rhodes Island had also told her that such an important figure had indeed once existed there. Certain rooms that were kept tightly sealed but meticulously cleaned every day. Precious, rare trophies displayed in glass cases, things that theoretically should never have appeared on Rhodes Island at all. Idle gossip, murmured dreams, wistful sighs, and the nostalgic gazes veteran operators would occasionally cast beyond Rhodes Island. Without exception, they all pointed to the same fact.

—There had once been someone of great renown and deep respect within Rhodes Island.

—There had once been someone who left Rhodes Island, yet everyone believed she would return someday.

Unlike the wariness and strange guilt they felt toward the important person known as Doctor Persephone, Rhodes Island Pharmaceuticals' veteran operators all held varying degrees of affection for that Sarkaz woman.

Red felt that she would probably have to deal with that Sarkaz woman often in the future. Establishing a good relationship beforehand was therefore the correct decision—this was not complicated; Red understood it. Even a lone wolf sometimes hunted in cooperation. And Red had always believed her fangs were sharp.

But the problem was... where was that woman?

Red thought, puzzled. Ever since entering Chernobog, she had felt as though someone—or something—was watching her. Yet no matter how she scanned, searched, or tried to lure them out, she never discovered what was following her.