Arknights: The Life Inside

After hearing her words, Yoren finally realized who this silver-haired Filin woman was.

She was—

Indra.

Holy hell. This was what it meant to be truly blessed.

Forget Exusiai. Forget Nearl. Forget SilverAsh. Indra was the Public Recruitment Limited Operator. The unicorn that players spent years trying to pull and never saw.

And she was standing right in front of him.

"Hey, why are you so skinny? Don't you fight?"

Before Yoren could answer, Indra stepped up and clapped him on the back—

"Puff, puff, puff!"

Yoren staggered forward, nearly coughing up blood.

"B-Big sister, could you please not hit me so hard? I'm more of a strategist, y'know? You do the fighting, I'll cheer you on from the back."

Indra clicked her tongue, unimpressed. "Tch. So you're just a wimp. Boring."

Without another glance, she turned and strode into the villa.

Vina chuckled. "Don't take it personally. Indra's like that with everyone. Give it time, and you'll see—she's reliable. You can trust her."

Yoren rubbed his sore back, offering a weak smile. "Yeah. Sure."

—

Inside the villa's living room, five or six people lounged on the sofas. Their hardened expressions and battle-worn bodies made it clear—they weren't just gangsters. They were survivors.

Compared to these guys, even Indra, Vina almost looked… cute.

Almost.

But that cute little lion was their boss.

Vina leaned in toward Indra, her voice low. "Did you find the other one?"

Indra exhaled, arms crossed. "Yeah. Just brought him back. He's upstairs."

"He's infected too?"

"Judging by the symptoms? Yeah. He's got Oripathy."

Vina lowered her head, her fists clenched.

"This is my fault. I wasn't careful enough."

Indra rested a hand on her shoulder.

"Vina, this isn't on you. We don't have proper transport methods for Originium, and our protection measures aren't foolproof. Nobody wants this to happen. But it has, and now we deal with it."

She gave her a firm pat. "So stop blaming yourself. That's not like you."

Vina took a slow breath. The guilt in her eyes faded, replaced by something harder—something unbreakable.

She wasn't just their leader. She was their shield.

Through all this, Yoren watched her closely.

She wasn't like the ruthless crime bosses of fiction. She wasn't running this gang for power or wealth. When her men fell, she went to save them, even at the risk of exposing their operations.

Even if they were infected.

Even if the world turned against them.

This was the King of Advancement.

Against her enemies, she never yielded. Against her friends, she never turned her back.

—

The tension in the living room was thick. Clearly, this latest smuggling run hadn't gone as planned.

Some gang members sat with eyes closed, others smoked in grim silence, a few whispered among themselves.

Vina grabbed an ornate wine bottle, took a slow sip, and turned to face the room.

"Kate, did we recover all the lost goods?"

A burly man with a cigarette hanging from his lips let out a long exhale. "No. The Qiecheng military police got there before we could."

"What's the damage?"

Kate's face darkened. "Bad. Two men infected. And Jill was carrying twenty-eight processed Originium stones when he got caught. All confiscated."

A heavy silence fell.

Vina took a deep breath. "How much do we have left?"

Kate ground out his cigarette in an ashtray. "We started with fifty-two. Customs seized eleven when we crossed the border. Now, with Jill's stash gone? We don't have enough to finish the deal."

CRACK.

Vina's grip tightened around her glass—

And shattered it.

Behind her, Yoren started doing mental math on his fingers.

Fifty-two total, minus twenty-eight, minus eleven…

Wait a minute.

That left them with thirteen.

Thirteen stones left.

…That was an eighty percent loss. Holy shit.

Yoren swallowed nervously. He had just joined the gang, and they were already taking massive financial hits. This wasn't exactly the morale boost he was hoping for.

As Vina and the others debated next steps, he awkwardly stood there, not even sure if it was appropriate to ask where the bathroom was.

Finally, after half an hour of tense discussion, Yoren couldn't hold back anymore.

"Uh… can I interrupt for a second?"

A bearded man cast him a sideways glance. "You're new, huh? You got an idea?"

"I—uh. Not exactly. I just wanted to ask…

Have you guys eaten dinner?

Dead silence.

All eyes snapped to him. The weight of their stares made his soul shrink.

Yoren gulped.

Okay. Maybe not the right question.

Vina let out a sigh and stretched. "Alright. That's enough for today. We'll come up with a plan tomorrow. Everyone get some rest."

The tension finally eased as the gang dispersed.

Before Yoren could slip away, Vina grabbed his arm and pulled him aside.

Before she could say anything, he scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

"Uh, sorry. That was probably not the right time to ask about food, huh?"

Instead of scolding him, Vina just laughed.

"It's fine. We're not that serious here. We're more like family than a business, really."

Then she tilted her head. "But speaking of food… you must be hungry."

"Kind of…"

He had literally been pulled into this world straight from school. It had been hours since he last ate.

Vina crossed her arms, thinking. "Most of the others already ate, and I don't usually have dinner myself."

She snapped her fingers. "How about this? I'll make you some noodles."

Yoren blinked. "Wait, you cook?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? Why, you wanna cook it yourself?"

He shook his head so fast it nearly snapped off his neck.

"Absolutely not. If the great Vina is offering to cook for me, I'd be an idiot to refuse."

Are you kidding me? A meal cooked by Miss Wang herself? That was rarer than pulling a six-star Operator!

'Need..."

Vina slipped into a pair of slippers, the soft fabric muffling her steps. Her legs, wrapped in snug shorts, were toned and smooth, her fair skin catching the dim kitchen light.

Casually, she shrugged off her black coat, revealing the tight white vest underneath. Without hesitation, she stepped into the kitchen and reached for an apron hanging on the wall—a simple one, printed with a little lion.

"Yoren, come tie this for me."

Holy shit.

Hot pants. Long legs. A fitted vest. That slightly messy golden ponytail.

Gone was the ferocious, battle-worn King of Advancement. Right now, she looked young, girlish, but with the apron on, she also carried the quiet charm of a woman who had long learned to fend for herself.

This—this was lethal.

9999 points of critical emotional damage to Yoren's fragile otaku heart.

If his best friend Zhang Yuan saw this, saw him standing right here, about to eat a meal personally made by the King of Advancement, that guy would die from sheer envy.

"Oi! What are you grinning at?" Vina turned, hands on her hips. "Come tie it."

"R-Right! On it!"

His fingers brushed against the fabric, and through it, he could feel her warmth. It was nothing, really. Just a simple touch. But still—

He quickly finished tying the apron, clearing his throat. "Done."

"Good."

Vina turned to the stove, pouring water into a pot, then methodically setting out ingredients. Judging by how smooth her movements were, she had clearly done this before.

Yoren hesitated, then asked, "Vina, do you cook often?"

"Not really. Only when things are calm in the gang."

"Where'd you learn?"

Vina stilled for half a second.

Her expression darkened, just slightly.

"I had to learn," she said. "Back before I joined the Glasgow Gang… survival wasn't easy. Knowing how to build a fire, find food, cook what little I had—that was just part of staying alive."

Yoren frowned. The way she said it—so matter-of-fact, yet laced with something deeper—made him uneasy.

He swallowed. "Vina… what happened before you joined Glasgow?"

She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she picked up the knife and started slicing vegetables with slow, measured precision.

"…None of your business."

Yoren opened his mouth, then immediately shut it. He had clearly hit a wall.

A chill ran down his spine. Something cold, dangerous, curled around the back of his neck like an unseen predator.

A voice, low and amused, whispered behind him.

"Kid… you should watch that mouth of yours. Don't go poking where you shouldn't, unless you've got a death wish."

Yoren didn't need to turn around to know it was Indra. The sheer murderous aura pouring off her was enough to make his body instinctively inch toward the wall.

"G-Got it. No more questions."

He could feel Indra smirking before she finally pulled away, her presence retreating like a storm moving past.

Even though he had conceded, something in Yoren still felt dissatisfied.

He thought back to everything he knew about Vina.

Her past had been a mystery in the original records. Most of her personal history was missing. But there were hints, scattered throughout.

In Rhodes Island's archives, one particular quote stood out:

— That's where the sun rises. Beyond sight, my homeland is there… Perhaps I will never be able to return. —

If he had to guess, her hometown was probably Victoria's capital—Londinium.

Something must have happened there. Something so massive that she could never return, leaving her to wander through life until she found herself leading the Glasgow Gang.

But what?

His head ached.

He wanted to piece it together. Wanted to know. Not just for curiosity's sake, but because he liked understanding the Operators he had cared about for so long.

But right now, he was powerless.

For now, all he could do was observe.

And the more he observed, the more questions piled up.

He needed to understand the factions in play. He needed to find the Operators who would shape the future. This was three years before the Chernobog Riots—if he could, he wanted to dig into the roots of the Reunion Movement.

Ultimately, he wanted to save Amiya.

But how?

—

[Save Everyone]

That was her dream. Her ideal.

But ideals alone weren't enough. What was her actual plan?

If he thought about it, Amiya wasn't as naive as she seemed. She had to know things—things about Terra that even most leaders didn't fully grasp.

There was one particular group that stood out among all the factions.

BABEL.

The name came from the biblical Tower of Babel—humanity's failed attempt to reach the heavens, shattered when their common language was taken away, leaving them divided.

And in Terra, the real Babel had fallen. Their records erased. Their purpose a mystery.

But what if… Amiya's true goal was to rebuild it?

To resist fate itself—to resist the natural disasters that had shaped this world?

What if her dream was to lead all people—infected and uninfected alike—toward a future without disasters?

And if that was true…

Then Rhodes Island was never just a medical organization.

Its goal was never just to treat the infected.

It was the new Babel.

The Tower of Babel in legend had required all of humanity to stand together in unity. In Terra, that meant every race.

But in the legend, their unity was shattered when their common language was stolen.

And in Terra…

Their unity was shattered by Originium.

Originium fueled civilization, but also disease. It gave nations power, but also divided them. It was the root of everything—of progress, of war, of suffering.

And at the heart of it all, Rhodes Island stood as the ark to carry them forward.

If all of this was true, then Amiya's dream wasn't just dangerous.

It was revolutionary.

Enough to shake Terra itself.

And if she truly meant to see it through…

Then there was a very real chance that she would sacrifice herself to make it happen.

Yoren broke out in a cold sweat.

No. No, that couldn't happen.

If Amiya activated her Chimera—if she burned herself out for this plan—

He wouldn't let her.

His thoughts spiraled further.

So far, every Operator he had met—Winter, Vina, Kroos—they had all aligned with the records he knew.

But then, that meant there was still one missing piece.

The Doctor.

If this was a game, then the Doctor was him—the player. The commander behind every decision.

But this wasn't a game.

This was Terra. This was real.

So then…

Who the hell was the Doctor?

And even more chilling—

Did the Doctor even exist?