Arknights: I became an NPC in the online game

After nearly a week of marching, the group finally descended from the snowy slopes, leaving Laterano behind. They stepped onto Sarkaz's scorched land, moving down into a lower altitude where the climate grew noticeably milder.

At this elevation, their pace quickened. The mission site drew closer with each step, and as the strain of the journey increased, conversation dwindled. Unlike the Pioneer's, Andoain's squad were veterans. Their rhythm didn't falter; they went about their tasks as usual, unaffected by fatigue.

"We're almost there."

Felix walked shoulder to shoulder with Andoain. He glanced at the display on his arm, then lifted his eyes. Far ahead, faint smoke curled into the sky.

In this desolate mountain region, smoke could only mean one thing: a settlement. But here, in the lawless wilds, firelight was a beacon—a declaration of existence. To show one's presence meant either recklessness or absolute confidence in strength. Judging by their earlier estimates, a fifty-strong Sarkaz warband could easily shred any intruder who stumbled too close.

"…That drone of yours is quite something," Andoain remarked, watching the machine hover at Felix's side. "You built it yourself?"

"Yes and no," Felix replied with a nod. "Technology never stands still. I'm not the only one who studies it. There are Terrans across this land working on the same paths. I developed these in Columbia, but that doesn't make me unique."

He gestured lightly. "In Laterano, Spuria built her own drones using materials she pulled from libraries and research labs. Far-off Leithanien has casters developing arcane drones of their own. Yan is much the same. In tech, it's impossible for one branch to stand alone."

…Except, perhaps, for the Horizon Ark Project.

Andoain's lips curved into a faint smile. "You've seen much of this world. Any stories worth sharing? Tales of other Terrans, for example."

Felix gave him a sidelong glance. Andoain's eyes were fixed forward, but it felt like he was staring at something far beyond the horizon. Felix couldn't read exactly what weighed on him, but the question carried a clear trace of sorrow and unease.

"All beings suffer."

"I see…" Andoain's voice was quiet. "That matches what I've witnessed too."

"As a Sankta, I can't save everyone."

Andoain turned to him, visibly struck. "You…"

"It shouldn't be surprising," Felix said softly. "We're just people. Nothing more."

Their eyes met briefly before Felix looked away, fiddling with his prototype drone again. "Terrans across this land each bear their own share of hardship. Sometimes, I think being Sankta is more burden than blessing."

"Why?"

"Because in their hearts, the image of Sankta is always one of light. We're symbols of kindness, salvation, forgiveness… every virtue they can imagine, thrust onto us. But no one ever asks whether we want such titles."

A wry smile tugged at his lips. He scored a mark into the bark of a nearby tree. "Sankta can save—but never everyone."

"The living speak of salvation," he continued quietly. "The dead, those who were never saved… they no longer have a voice."

Andoain raised a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. "Then tell me, Felix. Do you have a way?"

"To spend one's life rushing from crisis to crisis, saving a handful at a time? By the end, we'll have rescued few, if any."

"…I see."

"So the only path forward," Felix said, "is to seek another way."

"Yes."

Their conversation was too low for most of the group to hear, but to Sankta like Mostima and Lemuen—those who shared the gift of empathy—Andoain's heavy mood was impossible to miss. His quiet urgency pressed against them like an unspoken weight.

Felix, by contrast, remained as calm and steady as ever.

Had something passed between the two of them?

No one asked. The silence stretched until, later that afternoon, both men came to a stop. The squads behind them halted as well.

"We're here."

Felix checked his gear once more, running diagnostics on the drones, then reloading Arts cartridges into his rifles. Around him, the others prepared in turn.

Andoain was already giving out orders.

"Lemuen, Fiammetta—stay on the perimeter and provide suppressive fire. I'll take Mostima and push the frontline."

He turned toward Felix. "How will the Pioneer move?"

"Patia and Spuria handle long-range support. I'll go in with Plume and Federico alongside your squad."

Andoain gave a brief nod. "Good. Remember—don't get infected."

That line was practically ritual. Almost every Notarial Hall captain said the same before a mission.

The Sarkaz raiders occupying this mountain range might not have committed any crime yet, but their camp was far too close to Laterano's villages. Even if they meant no harm, the Hall would send units to eliminate the threat.

"This mountain has a strange magnetic field," Felix murmured.

"Magnetic field? What do you mean?" Mostima asked, sharp-eared at his side.

"It could be a mine. If so, there may also be Originium contamination. Stay cautious."

His earlier suspicions hardened into certainty. The drone readings confirmed it—the mountain held anomalies. This disturbance was familiar. He had felt something like it before.

Ever since taking up the weapon once wielded by the Witch King, Felix had studied such magnetic responses. He'd even built detection modules into his drones. A signal like this usually meant one of two things: an ancient weapon… or a singularity.

"…No one's here?"

The blackened land reeked of powder and ash. Felix scanned the terrain for signs of the raiders—tracks, camps, anything—but found nothing.

"Split up. Search for traces."

Andoain deliberated briefly, then reached the same conclusion as Felix.

Ruins…?

Felix's gaze shifted toward a dark cavern ahead. Yes, the air around it carried that uncanny resonance. He remembered Ers's warning when approving this mission: the raiders had piled their stolen goods near an old ruin.

Officially, the assignment was to eliminate the raiders. But in truth, the Hall also wanted the ruins investigated.

Felix pushed open the flap of a tent. Inside, food was untouched. A pot of broth simmered quietly, fragrant with meat. Clothes hung on a rack, still damp despite long hours near the fire.

The stew bubbled, firewood popped and hissed—yet the wood never burned away.

Time itself… had stopped.

A chill crawled down Felix's spine. Ready or not, he hadn't expected to feel this kind of dread here.

So this was the power of those ancient weapons? To halt the flow of time.

He drew in a steadying breath and stepped back outside. His teammates' faces were equally grim.

"What did you see?" Andoain asked.

"The entire camp—it's frozen. Time doesn't move here."

Lemuen, the one known as Silent, glanced around the warped stillness. "I found a raider's journal. The last entry was from half a month ago. After that… nothing. They just vanished."

"But their food is fresh. Fires are still burning," she continued. "It's like they left in the middle of dinner."

"I'm seeing the same," another voice reported. "As if they got up and walked away mid-bite."

Spuria shivered and pressed herself against Lemuen. "Creepy. Really creepy."

Felix exchanged a look with Andoain.

"It must be the mine," Felix said at last. "The magnetic field anomaly I mentioned—it could be warping the environment. Slowing time, maybe even stopping it altogether."

"…Captain, how do you know things like this?" Patia asked in a small, uneasy voice.

"I studied this field back in university," Felix explained. He already knew in his heart what the answer would be. Step by step, he walked toward the ruin, and with every pace the unease in his chest grew heavier.

He had faced something similar before. But never had he felt such resistance at the threshold—like merely looking in from outside made him want to turn away.

This was a ruin.

He and Andoain exchanged a glance. Only the two captains knew this detail. The fewer who carried that knowledge, the better. Yet Felix couldn't shake the feeling that once they crossed the cave's mouth, there would be no turning back.

"Are we all going in? Shouldn't we leave someone to keep watch?" Lemuen's suggestion was reasonable.

Andoain nodded and turned to Fiammetta. "I'll leave it to you."

"Understood."

Felix added, "Patia, stay with Fiammetta. Spuria, use your drone to scan the surroundings—see if there's any sign of raiders, or anyone else."

"Got it."

He didn't voice the rest. But Spuria understood. The raiders were most likely already dead. If they found the corpses—the manner of death, the state of the remains—it could reveal much.

Once the three women split off, those who stayed behind felt a chill settle in. They were grateful it was daylight. If they had stumbled on this camp at night—the food still warm, the fires still burning—it might have broken even the innocent hearts of Sarkaz-born.

Killing enemies on the battlefield was one thing. Andoain's squad had executed countless raiders over the years—Sarkaz who crossed borders, who pillaged Laterano's caravans. But this… this was different. This was something supernatural. And before the weight of nature—or whatever lay beyond it—terran beings were always small.

"The raiders chose this place because of the minerals?" someone asked.

"Could be a mine," Felix replied. "Either way, whatever lies inside must be reported back to the Hall."

Andoain gave him a look of thanks. Then, staff and pistol in hand, he stepped forward into the cave.

The remaining five followed one after another.

Mostima sidled close and gave Felix's hand a gentle squeeze. "What is it? You seem tense."

He smiled, brushing a hand through her silk-smooth blue hair. "It's nothing."

"Looking forward to our dessert trip later?"

"Maybe a little."

"After this mission... Let's visit various places, alright?"

Lemuen caught the whisper between them and smiled silently. At last, her good friend had managed to win over this wooden man. A cause for celebration indeed.

Their footsteps echoed louder as the six drew nearer to the entrance. Andoain peered inside, then led the way.

The cave held faint traces of natural light, filtering through cracks in the stone above. Shafts of sunlight cut the darkness in broken lines.

"No sign of minerals," Lemuen observed.

She had been on missions like this before and knew the look of a mine. Normally, even near the entrance, one could see veins of ore exposed from crude excavation. After all, the camp had belonged to Sarkaz raiders—men who would seize any resource to forge new weapons. If their squad had faced those raiders armed with freshly crafted gear, the fight would not have been nearly so simple.

"It doesn't feel like a mine… more like an ordinary cave," Mostima said as she tugged Felix's hand, bringing him closer to Lemuen.

Lemuen glanced at their joined hands, a teasing look flashing across her face. "Mo, you're braver than I thought."

"Only because Felix is far too reserved," Mostima answered with a soft smile.

Felix gave her hand a light squeeze, signaling her to let go. Then he stepped forward alone, his eyes following Andoain's back in the darkness ahead.

Federico walked silently at his side.

At the edge of their vision, where the dim light reached, stood two strangely shaped staves.

One bore a rounded head, like a guiding orb. The other was long and slender, its form closer to that of a spear than a staff.

Whispers stirred in Felix's ears.

"Where lies the answer?"

"The answer lies in truth… truth lies in the past… the past lies in the future…"

"If you wish to know the answer, to know the truth, the past, the future… then draw me…"

Felix's expression darkened. At once, the system flared a message across his mind:

[Intelligence check: critical success. Mental check: success.]

His body reacted instinctively to the danger. The eerie whispers pulled at his thoughts, and before he realized it, his hand was already brushing the grip of the pistol at his thigh.

"P… predecessor…"

Federico dropped to one knee, teeth clenched, his face contorted as though struggling against something unseen.

Felix gripped his shoulder and pulled him back. Together they retreated a few steps, putting distance between themselves and the two ominous staves.

Relief washed over Federico's features, as if the disturbance had lifted the moment they stepped away.

Felix lifted his gaze again.

Andoain was still walking forward.

He showed no sign of hearing the whispers at all, moving straight ahead until he stopped before the staves.

Then, slowly, he reached out his hand.