Chlorine Sodium's Arknights

"It's so cold."

An unnamed mine on the frozen plains of the northwest.

Belonging to no city, with no settlements nearby, there was only white here.

Snow that never melted washed away all color, leaving behind a pure, frigid white.

Ursus guards, in pairs, piled the bodies of Infected from the mine to one side.

"How many is that now?"

"The tenth, or the fifth? I can't remember."

A tall, thin man in an old-fashioned military coat dragged a child's corpse toward a deep pit not far from the mine.

The middle-aged man who replied was holding a bottle of liquor, joking with the tall, thin man in the snow as he drank.

He was the guard here, and the keys on his waist jingled as he moved.

"Hahahaha, didn't I tell you? This place is practically paradise! God above."

As he spoke, the middle-aged man, still somewhat unsatisfied, reached out and touched the corpse of the dead girl.

"Cut out that damn habit of yours, it's disgusting. These are all Infected."

Before the middle-aged man could react, the soldier kicked the already mangled corpse into the deep pit.

"Let's go, we still have a lot to move."

"Don't worry, they're just Infected, who cares?"

The middle-aged man took another swig from his bottle, drunkenly unconcerned.

"Would a normal person bring a pregnant dog? You disgusting thing, get back to work! If you're not quick, the captain will kill us."

The soldier shot a look at the man he considered scum and walked towards the transport trucks parked outside the mine. A group of soldiers were gathered there, all busy moving bodies.

Inside one of the trucks, something wrapped in filthy rags seemed to stir. It moved a few times, letting out a faint whimper that was swallowed by the wind and snow. The tall, thin soldier, however, was long past caring. He roughly pulled back the rags and dragged the thing inside along the ground towards the pit.

The driver, slumped in the driver's seat, changed radio channels as if this were an everyday occurrence, paying no attention to what was happening in the back of the truck.

[This morning, the federal government of Columbia officially signed Bill No. 3, declaring it enacted. Columbia will impose sanctions on Ursus's Pipeline Project No. 2...]

[Rustle rustle rustle...]

Below the truck, the captain in charge relaxed his shoulders. This wasn't an execution ground, and they weren't authorized to kill.

But the Infected weren't considered people, so they didn't need trials or investigations.

In Ursus, no one cared if the Infected lived or died. These dirty, lowly beings, who didn't deserve to occupy any resources, were treated like rats.

These matters weren't their responsibility without a trial; they were only responsible for the cleanup.

Perhaps some people were wrongly accused and sent here, not actually Infected. But this was an Originium mine. Anyone here who lacked protection was bound to contract the Originium infection. Once infected, they were Infected, and no matter how innocent they were before, becoming Infected was the greatest sin.

The order from above was to leave no one alive.

Their methods were simple and direct: kill everyone with two legs who wasn't wearing the same uniform, then blow up the mine and bury all the sin underground.

The man looked at the last remaining Infected in the entire mine.

The adults were long dead. The old, weak, and sick had died either on the way here or in the frigid mine.

Only a small group of children remained.

The soldiers carried out systematic slaughter in front of the children, then threw the bodies into the pit as if they were hauling garbage.

But these children were used to it, their bodies clad in rags, their eyes numb.

They had seen too much death, so much that it filled everything they saw.

Their world was perhaps only this mine.

The man waved his hand, signaling to hurry up and finish them off. He was on a schedule.

Suddenly, his gaze unintentionally fell upon a girl.

Ursus was a nation composed of a single ethnicity. Most here were Ursus people, but this girl was clearly special.

A Castet.

Her two long ears atop her dry, dull silver hair, a result of malnutrition and neglect, made the girl stand out.

She was about eleven years old, with a passable appearance. At least among the ragged, dispirited children, she had a good foundation.

But what was most special wasn't her appearance, but her eyes.

Unlike the other corpses wearing human skin, these walking dead, the girl's eyes were alive.

It was funny, the man actually saw... anger? in her living eyes.

Huh?

Anger?

What was there to be angry about?

Curiosity is always piqued by something special.

Angry eyes, how interesting. What are they angry about? Angry about what they've done?

A joke. Would a beast get angry at a butcher?

Truly interesting.

Then the man raised his foot and kicked over the girl, who looked somewhat different from the others.

Anger?

Do the Infected even deserve to be angry?

She should have been like those walking dead, beastly Infected children, with overwhelming fear consuming all emotion.

The heavy military boots were still stained with crimson snow. An adult's kick was enough to kill a child, let alone a child who was starving, severely malnourished, and exposed to extreme cold.

The girl collapsed in the snow, silent.

She might be dead, she might not be. It didn't matter. The captain patted the snow off his gloves and told his subordinates to hurry.

"Ugh... err..."

Perhaps it was the cold of the snow stimulating the wound on her forehead, a numb pain that jolted Yelena awake from her unconsciousness. The agony coursing through her body made the girl only able to let out whimpers of pain. Her body, already ravaged by hunger and strenuous labor, couldn't even muster the strength to struggle to her feet.

It hurts so much... so cold... Am I... am I dead?

The girl, slumped in the snowdrift, was slowly regaining consciousness.

The soldier's kick had knocked her unconscious.

She had never met her parents.

The girl only remembered being held in the arms of a man and a woman. The man died shielding the woman with his body from an arrow, and the woman used her spine to block the second wave of arrows.

After that, she had come here.

As for the days that followed, the girl's life was a cycle of being awake, in pain, exhausted, starving until she passed out, and then being doused with ice water to wake up again.

Constantly abused by the environment, the cold, and those guards, the torment to her mind, body, and spirit made life worse than death...

Was she having a nightmare? The biting cold wind seemed to deliberately remind the girl, "This is reality." Her groggy consciousness couldn't maintain full clarity against the wind; she only knew she was about to die.

If this were a dream, she truly wished she could wake up soon and go find her grandmother.

Grandmother always talked about how warm their old home used to be, a place where seasons other than heavy snow could be seen, with a warm fireplace and venison to be hunted. If this was a nightmare, she wished she could wake up quickly and go find the "home" her grandmother spoke of. This was Yelena's only dream.

However, before her dream could fully take flight, it was dashed in the pitch-black snowy night.

The boot pressing on her had lifted. The voices of those men grew louder. Her already damaged ears couldn't make out what they were saying, but her intuition told her danger was approaching.

But a child's body was too frail. Even waking up was a miracle, let alone escaping.

Her eyes grew heavier, the icy wind stripping away her last vestiges of consciousness. Her vision blurred, but even so, the girl still struggled to move her arms, wanting to crawl out of here, to go to that home, to escape this nightmare—

"Thump."

Her legs were roughly dragged up. The tattered rags she wore could no longer shield her from the wind and snow. The biting cold of the snow stimulated the skin in direct contact. Wounds that had already healed and those that were infected were torn by the immense force. Old injuries continuously aggravated the girl's sensitive nerves. Compared to waking up to endless pain, the girl would rather have remained asleep; at least then, it wouldn't hurt so much.

The snow of Ursus buried the back of the girl's head completely. She tried to get up, but under the adult's pull, the girl could only flail her arms meaninglessly.

Her limbs were frozen stiff. A large pit not far away was shrouded in shadow, like death itself opening its arms...

I'm going to die... am I...

So cold... so hungry... so much pain...

So sleepy...

I miss Grandma...

I miss my parents... and those siblings of the same age...

But Grandma is gone. Will I see her...

I don't want to die...

The girl strained to turn her head, stretching out her arm and opening her hand. The gate in her vacant sight seemed within reach. If she could just get through the gate and run down the road, she was sure she could flag down a passing car and ask for help. She would probably be saved then.

If only she wasn't Infected.

Her mind, now becoming hazy, even started to imagine her escape route...

The gate was not far away, within reach...

Unwillingness, pain...

Why me...

Why are they treating me like this...

I don't want to die...

I don't want to die...

I DON'T WANT TO DIE!!

Whether it was a final surge of energy or the support of her will to survive, her previously weak legs suddenly struggled! The unprepared man lost his grip, and the girl broke free from his hold. The gate was just ahead!

Just run over there.

The girl struggled to get up, her almost numb limbs still laboriously obeying her brain's commands. Just run over there!

However, reality was cruel. The girl, tormented by hunger, couldn't get up quickly. And the men around wouldn't just stand by, waiting for the protagonist to unleash a counterattack like some random villain. A simple kick was enough to knock down the scrawny girl.

What followed was a retaliatory beating. Yelena couldn't remember how long it lasted. All she could do was reach out her hand, looking at the door that was so close yet forever out of reach, gazing towards it with all her might, as if it were her fading hope...

I don't want to die... I... I don't want to die. Anyone... anyone at all... please... save me...

A strange light.

Accompanying it was the eerie sound of the sky being torn apart. Just as Yelena's consciousness was about to fade, a blinding light illuminated the land. The sky, which was nearing dusk, was lit up until it turned pale. Everyone unconsciously looked up, searching for the source of the anomaly in the sky.

But what greeted them was a pillar of light connecting the heavens and the earth, and a heatwave so intense it felt like it would burn their retinas!

It was a torrent of light, descending upon the small mine.

Section 3, Chapter 3 [Emergency Food.jpg]

The mine was gone. Literally gone.

The moment the light and heat descended, everything around was melted by the intense heat.

As death loomed, Yelena, perhaps due to a strong will to survive or a final mercy from heaven, awakened her Originium Arts.

It was extreme cold, as if mirroring the world covered in white, embodying the essence of winter.

A frigid temperature, colder than winter itself, radiated outwards with the girl at its center!

It was like a snow lotus blooming in mid-air, colliding with the scorching flames.

Because of this, Yelena survived. But the entire mine and the people within were not so fortunate. Those engulfed by the explosion were instantly vaporized. Those further away were consumed by the impact of the high temperature and pressure. The entire pit reeked of burnt flesh. Only Yelena, who was at the edge and had awakened her abilities, narrowly escaped.

Perhaps it was divine retribution, or something else entirely. Yelena didn't understand what it was. She only tasted blood in her mouth, smelled the scent of burnt human flesh, and saw a hellish landscape before her eyes.

This blast not only turned the mine into a huge pit but also blew over nearby vehicles. The rations that the guards had brought were scattered everywhere, most of them ruined.