Arknights, Yet the Family Has Fallen Again and Again and Again

Mephisto was still in a bizarre state of frenzy, completely incapable of normal communication. There were seven people in the conference room: "Talulah," Ludmila (Crownslayer), Sasha (Faust), Elena (FrostNova), Bohdrokasthim (Patriot), Alex (Skullshatterer), and the Sarkaz mercenary leader Garson.

Of the seven, only Black Snake and Skullshatterer genuinely wanted to attack Lungmen. Garson worked for money and had no particular opinion, while everyone else opposed it.

Even if Mephisto had still been lucid, there still would not have been enough support for attacking Lungmen.

Had they not suffered their previous defeat, Black Snake would have had no fear of talking up an even more ambitious grand vision. For example, conquering Lungmen as well and turning it into a city belonging to the Infected...

But their current defeat forced her to change her rhetoric and entice the entire Reunion Movement into digging its own grave by another means.

Skullshatterer's voice was especially deep through his respirator. "Misha isn't here. Like the other refugees, she went to Lungmen."

Black Snake lightly tapped the map.

"Then, Alex, go bring her back."

Black Snake spoke Skullshatterer's true name from Talulah's swanlike graceful neck, then said in her stirring manner, "Bring your sister back to us."

A Mere Pharmaceutical Company—What Conflict Could It Have With Us?

Black Snake immediately lied. "This is merely an extortion operation. We cannot let the core city truly crash into Lungmen. It would be unwise to draw Yan's attention while we are already hostile to Ursus."

"But only through such an extortion operation can we squeeze out the resources we need."

"Now, with Chernobog devastated by the Catastrophe, if we operate Chernobog on our own, we can only move a handful of its districts and drive them across the wilderness, hiding here and there. We cannot carry out organized production!"

"On the other hand, if we can complete this extortion, the Infected may truly possess a complete, mobile city of their own!"

With that, building upon Talulah's words, Black Snake redirected the conversation in just a few sentences and wove another lie to deceive everyone.

"...It had better... be... so." Patriot glanced at FrostNova.

FrostNova immediately understood. "But there is still one problem we need to resolve."

Rhodes Island.

Or rather, in the eyes of the Reunion Movement's officers, those strange hooded figures who had easily brought down Mephisto and the tyrant Talulah.

Talulah lowered her beautiful eyes. After a long silence, Black Snake said, "They are merely a pharmaceutical company. Our conflict with them was incidental."

"They must have had another purpose for entering Chernobog..."

Faust said, "Mephisto and I reviewed the surveillance footage."

"Comparing the recordings from before and after they entered the core zone, we discovered that they had gained one more person."

"It was that..."

That Mental Arts caster.

He had thought the man had merely been stranded somewhere in Chernobog, but he was in the core city? Just who was he?

Under Black Snake's control, the dragon's eyes carried the spirit of a venomous serpent. She narrowed them. "I understand."

Meanwhile, on Rhodes Island.

"Doc Otter, can't sleep?"

A calm electronic voice softly echoed beside Oute's ear.

Perhaps it was an illusion, but he could almost feel warm breath teasing his ear canal.

"It is an illusion. The PRTS system does not have that function, Doc Otter."

Oute silently replied, "I slept too early this afternoon, so waking up in the middle of the night couldn't be helped. But now I can't quite fall asleep."

"Then, would you like to take a stroll around Rhodes Island at night?" PRTS asked.

Oute smiled lightly, threw back the covers, put on his protective suit, then slipped his uniform over it.

He answered inwardly, Gladly.

Rhodes Island was far quieter late at night. Only the monotonous sounds of the ship echoed through the empty corridors.

Most operators on the night shift were stationed in their respective departments. This noisy silence instead allowed Oute to calm down and reflect on the day's events.

He asked, "After the rescue plan was officially launched, she went off to 'handle other matters'?"

"That is correct, Doc Otter."

"Does she not want to see me?"

PRTS did not answer directly. "Based on what Dr. Kal'tsit has observed, she may harbor rather complicated feelings toward you."

"Such as?"

"Rejection, attachment, inferiority, admiration, jealousy, reverence, fear, trust, hatred, and love..."

"That sounds like a list of every possible feeling between people."

"Given the scale of time shared by you and Kal'tsit, Doc Otter, that is entirely normal."

Oute neither agreed nor disagreed, instead changing his question.

"Why did I wake up inside that device?"

"Approximately three years ago, you were severely injured. In order to repair your body, Kal'tsit placed you in a treatment device."

Here came the good part.

As a Doctor who had not lost his memories but barely had any memories at all, Oute needed a reasonable excuse to obtain information he already knew.

"Severely injured? What happened?"

"There is currently no reliable information, only verbal testimony from several witnesses: when Babel's leader died, aside from the assassin, you were also in her room."

Oute narrowed his eyes, intrigued. "Are you implying that this was not the truth?"

"The PRTS system has not yet loaded a lying module." PRTS gave a remarkably ambiguous answer.

"By the way, who was she?"

"The PRTS system recommends that Doc Otter use other keywords to search the files, such as: Kazdel Civil War."

"Dr. Oute, what... what are you doing? It is already very late. This will not be good for your health." A voice interrupted Oute.

Turning around, he found Folinic.

The Feline woman was carrying a cup of coffee as she passed through the other end of the corridor.

Oute spoke in a low, dry voice. "I slept too early this afternoon... Cough, cough!"

"Wait! Doctor! There's no need to speak! Where did I put it..." Folinic held her coffee in one hand while frantically searching through her white coat with the other.

At last, she found her tactical earpiece.

After putting it in her ear, Folinic smiled. "Dr. Oute, I'm Folinic from the Medical Department. I heard about your situation from the field operators. You can just speak to me through PRTS now."

Oute nodded lightly and responded to both "people" at once.

"I understand. Can you hear me?" The question came through the earpiece.

Folinic smiled. "Perfectly clearly."

"Miss Folinic, are you on duty right now?"

"Strictly speaking, no." Folinic's cat ears twitched slightly. "I simply still have some matters to take care of."

Then this was a good chance to see Specter in person.

Oute thought, Send me Specter's case records and files.

"Sent."

Without even blinking, he said, "That nun from this afternoon. I received some information about her from PRTS."

"She lost her memories too?"

Folinic caught that detail.

Awkwardly, she said, "The reason for her amnesia is not the same as yours, Doctor... and the outcome is vastly different as well."

Oute nodded.

"But without question, we have both lost our pasts."

Lost your past? Doctor, you make it sound so simple...

A genius scholar had suffered severe brain trauma...

That was the brain!

Although your command abilities had not declined, judging from the previous battle, different parts of the brain had different functions...

Research into Originium across this land might be set back by who knew how many years!

Folinic suppressed the urge to sigh. Through his hood, she tried to seek out Oute's gaze.

But within the pitch-black hood, all she found were pinpricks of light reflected off glass.

"Take me to see Specter."

For a moment, Folinic could not bear to refuse him. At last, she sighed. "Sigh... Understood, Doctor. Please follow me."

This corridor was not far from the Medical Department.

Specter's condition was currently unstable, so a special room had been prepared for her within the Medical Department. Its furniture and equipment were integrated into the room itself, all wrapped in thick, rounded padding. When she was not receiving treatment, she lived in that room.

According to Folinic, for various reasons, Rhodes Island had no real solution for Specter's condition. They could only do their best to maintain her vital signs and hope... she recovered on her own.

I Agree, But I Do Not Agree With My Agreement

The instant the door opened, Folinic jumped in fright. Specter was standing behind it, her fingers interlocked as she silently murmured strange scripture.

The coffee fell from Folinic's hand and struck Specter in the chest.

The scalding black drink spilled over the nun's chest, soaking the front of her clothes.

Perhaps because she was in her bedroom, Specter was not wearing her nun's habit. She wore only a thin, close-fitting garment.

The coffee-soaked fabric clung tightly to her breasts. With each breath, the scorching liquid outlined her graceful curves. The coffee continued to run downward, yet was continuously absorbed by the cloth, finally dwindling at Specter's lower abdomen and vanishing completely into the fabric.