Arknights: The Life Inside-Chapter 55

Yoren drove the SUV eastward at a relentless speed, the scenery outside the window blurring into fleeting streaks of color.

Sitting in the passenger seat, Yoren couldn't help but recall the journey from Chernobog to Mandel City with Vina and the others.

So much had happened along the way. He had learned about Terra's technological composition from Kate, met Ace, and crossed paths with Snowsant.

Back then, he had laughed freely in the car, without a care in the world. But now, nothing was the same.

There was no biting cold, no swirling snowflakes outside the window. Though he was still in a car, it wasn't heading for Mandel City.

And he was no longer the same Yoren from before.

Now, he was infected.

Knock, knock.

A heavy, resounding heartbeat echoed from within.

An irrepressible force surged up inside him, and in a flash, his vision turned black and white.

His left hand gripped his chest, his right clawed into the armrest of the door.

Bang!

The armrest shattered in his grasp completely.

Saria's voice was firm as she drove. "Are you okay?"

Yoren gritted his teeth, forcing the darkness back down. "I don't think I can hold on much longer. You should leave me here—I don't want to hurt you."

"It's fine. Hold on a little longer. We're almost there."

Something about Saria's unwavering profile calmed him.

He knew her well. She was a woman of principle, a pillar of Rhine Lab. When the experiments spiraled out of control, she was the one thing keeping them from collapsing completely.

Because Saria was far more powerful than most people realized.

Years later, the records at Rhodes Island would show that wherever she fought, casualties were nearly nonexistent. Her shield shattered enemy weapons and bodies alike, rendering them helpless—not to kill, but to protect her own.

Just as she always said:

"Strength is not the essence of battle. Power does not mean recklessness. In the storm, only the defenders will stand."

Though she was uninfected, her Originium Arts were terrifyingly strong. If she ever abandoned her shield and fought to kill, few could stand against her. But she never did. Saria was a guardian of order, balancing on the scales of justice.

Yet Rhine Lab was shifting, pushing her to the brink. One day, she would finally turn her back on them and choose Rhodes Island instead.

Thirty minutes later.

Yoren sat in the passenger seat, his entire left eye now pitch black. The force inside him raged, barely contained, threatening to tear the vehicle apart.

"Saria... I... I can't hold on."

"We're here."

The battered vehicle skidded to a halt.

The unfamiliar terrain stretched before them—an expanse of desert, towering rock formations rising like jagged sentinels in the distance. It resembled a labyrinth of stone, isolated and desolate.

Yoren swung the door open and stepped out. The moment his foot touched the ground, black energy rippled outward, displacing sand and scattering stones like leaves in a storm.

There was no doubt now.

He had become a monster.

If this happened in battle, perhaps it would be a weapon to turn the tide. But here and now, this power was a curse. It would tear him apart from the inside.

Saria stepped forward, her expression unreadable.

"This is Rhine Lab's monitoring zone. There's no one around for miles. From here on, you're on your own."

Yoren glanced up. High above, several drones hovered, watching his every move.

Rhine Lab wanted to see how long he would last.

Saria held out a small metal box. "Take it."

Inside were more than a dozen Originium shards.

"Try to survive until they're gone."

Yoren took them, his grip tight. "Thank you."

Saria nodded. "I'll be waiting—until the end. Let's hope we meet again."

"Yeah."

For a brief moment, something flickered in her gaze.

"Good luck, Yoren."

She turned and walked away.

Ten seconds passed before Yoren remembered something.

He called out to her retreating figure, his voice raw.

"Saria! Please... give the child a real home!"

The morning sun had yet to rise, and the sky remained dark.

Yoren stood alone in the shadow of the rocky mountains, taking a deep breath.

Then, the darkness inside him exploded.

Let's go!

The Originium shards clattered to the ground, drained in an instant.

A black tornado surged from Yoren's body, spiraling into the heavens.

Boom!

The mountains trembled. Rocks shattered. Dust choked the air like a battlefield after a cataclysmic clash.

Yoren's mind frayed, his grip on himself slipping.

The energy twisted and burned, eroding his body, driving him to lash out wildly, striking everything in sight.

This was the wrath of a demon.

Somewhere in the storm of destruction, a voice whispered inside him.

"They call me a demon of darkness, but who darkened my heart? They name me a monster because I see through the lies of the gods."

"I feel everything. I know what is real. No one can seal me—except myself. But if a demon sheds tears, he loses all his magic. That is why demons do not cry."

"Gods are gods because they are liars. Demons are demons because they tell the truth. The goddess of the sky... she is not like them. Her emotions are real. That is why I became a demon—to protect her."

A single tear fell.

Drip.

Had demons truly never wept?

Time lost meaning.

The mountains lay in ruin. The air smelled of blood and dust.

Yoren collapsed, his body broken, his limbs refusing to move.

The Originium's power was spent, but the darkness inside him still raged. The worst had yet to come.

"Ahhhhhhh!"

Pain, searing and endless, tore through him. Wounds ripped open. Blood spilled over his vision, dyeing the world crimson.

Some said that a demon's tears were red—not because they never cried, but because they feared their tears would frighten the ones they loved.

And when a demon weeps, it is in their darkest, most desperate moment.

The energy inside him twisted, searching, ripping through his marrow, reaching for something deep within—

And then, everything went still.

A voice, distant and solemn, echoed in his mind.

"If emotions are fated to bring pain, I shall cast them aside. If divine judgment is inescapable, then I swear upon the sky itself—"

"To sever my past. To sever my future. To sever all bonds. The sky bears witness to my vow."

"This sword shall cut through heaven and earth, darkness and light, until a tomorrow that will never come."

A single, crystalline chime rang out.

And then, light erupted from Yoren's right eye.

It was not the devouring blackness of before. This light was pure, radiant, all-encompassing.

It swept across the land, through the desert, past Saria—

A light that did not destroy, but cleansed.

Yoren lay on the ground, staring at the sky.

The pain was gone. His wounds had vanished. The darkness inside him was silent.

Night had vanished.

The sky, moments ago so dark, now shone with endless daylight.

And in the distance, Saria stood still, staring in stunned silence.

Because this was a phenomenon recorded only in the oldest texts:

The strongest force must face destruction.

But destruction was also the beginning of rebirth.

Light and darkness would always return to balance.

And the black and white twins would forever walk together.

If the gods bring light to the world and the demons bring darkness, then the arrival of demons should be welcomed.

Because their presence means the world is bright enough to cast a shadow.

People only recognize darkness when they have lived in the light. And when darkness is dispelled, they remember how precious the light truly is.

Saria stared at the sky above.

It was pure, untouched by a single blemish.

The earth-shattering noise in the distance had ceased, leaving behind an eerie silence. The anger that had once permeated the air, vowing to tear everything apart, had vanished—along with the raging, uncontrollable power.

"Saria."

A familiar voice called her name.

She turned.

Yoren stood before her, his clothes in tatters, but his smile was genuine.

"Saria, you've waited long enough. Let's go."

May 25, Rhine Lab Experimental Base IV.

The dark day had ended.

Yoren had survived the breaking point of his own body, returning to Base IV when the scientists at Rhine Lab had all but declared him dead.

When Saria brought him back, the reactions were unforgettable.

Snowsant clung to Yoren's waist like a sloth, rubbing tears and snot all over him.

Hemmer furrowed his brows, staring at him as though he were a dinosaur resurrected from the ground. Even the usually composed White-faced Owl looked at him as if she were seeing a ghost.

And Aina—when she saw him alive, she immediately ran off to prepare breakfast. Despite her age, she practically skipped like a young girl scattering flower petals at a festival.

No matter what roles they played, their bonds had been deeply forged in the past month.

Seeing their reactions, Yoren couldn't help but feel a little smug.

Early Morning.

There was no sunlight. No birds sang. But Yoren still woke up on time in his quarters at the base.

Yesterday's events felt like a dream.

He shuffled to the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror.

His eyes were clear, sharp. If one looked closely, a faint black pattern encircled the outer ring of his left pupil.

Thin as a spider's web—

A seal restraining something.

A mark of fate itself.

Yoren didn't know what it meant. He didn't care to think about it now.

Because he had just discovered something far more important.

His mouth curled into a slow grin.

Then, he jumped in place and let out an unabashed cheer.

"Yes!"

His hair had grown back.

Fine strands now covered his head, and in just one day, the jet-black locks had grown nearly an inch—as if he had been bathing in an elixir more potent than any miracle shampoo.

Yoren admired his reflection, nodding in satisfaction.

Hemmer had been right. The hair growth was real.

Emerging from the bathroom, he sprawled on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

His heart was calm.

Growth takes time, and time requires experience.

In his old world, Yoren had learned an undeniable truth: there is no absolute hierarchy, no rigid ranks among people—but there is always a difference in vision, in the scope of one's soul.

If one wishes to hold wealth beyond the reach of others, they must possess the mindset to match it.

A fish in a small puddle will fight, devour, and outlast others to claim dominion over its tiny world. But it will never think to push through the mud and reach the river. It will never dream of the sea beyond.

The depth of a person's vision determines what they see.

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And what they see determines how far they can go.

Yesterday had changed Yoren's perspective.

The world is simple in the eyes of a child. But as one grows, that world becomes more complicated. Then, after years of experience—after witnessing the rise and fall of fate—

Everything becomes simple again.

Yesterday, Yoren had glimpsed the world from a higher vantage point.

Legends were just stories. Reality was different from the myths that people passed down. The truths of the past had been shaped and twisted by the minds of those who came after.

He still remembered the voice.

"They call me a demon of darkness, but who darkened my heart? They name me a demon because I see through the lies of the gods."

Perhaps, the legend of the black and white twins was nothing like the tales he had heard.

Demons do not cry.

They are the strongest, the most wicked, the most insatiable beings.

They crave everything in the world—but above all, they crave the love of the goddess.

The demon's eyes saw through the heart of the Sky Goddess.

And through the lies of the gods.

"Gods do not need emotions."

Bound by that lie, the goddess was imprisoned in the heavens, tasked with guarding the world the gods had created. She wielded a holy sword—one that could sever anything.

The demon saw the truth buried in her heart.

And so, born from darkness, made of emotions the gods had cast away, the demon hid beneath the earth for ten thousand years—

Watching the sky.

Until one day, he reached out.

His power had become immeasurable.

Mountains crumbled. Rivers dried. The gods' world began to fall apart.

The gods panicked. They told the goddess they would sacrifice their divinity to erase the demon.

The demon would die for her.

And so, the goddess finally raised her sword.

The demon's power came from the earth. The earth and sky were bound together—so she severed the connection between them.

Her love for the demon had grown over millennia—so she severed her memories, her emotions.

And the demon's love for her? It existed only because she was there.

So she severed herself.

The holy sword fell.

The goddess cut the sky.

She cut the earth.

She cut her love, her past—

But never once did she raise her blade against the demon.

Her blood stained the heavens red.

Before her body disappeared, she shed a single tear.

The gods believed the demon laughed, thinking himself victorious. They believed he had fooled the goddess, that she had never turned her sword against him.

But the demon laughed because he saw the sky dyed in her blood.

And then—

Red tears trickled down his face, across his twisted, smiling lips.

Drip.

The demon's tears fell to the earth, mingling with hers.

And then, the earth shook.

A rage more terrible than anything before erupted from the depths.

A wrath that would destroy everything.

But the demon could no longer stand against the gods.

Because the demon had wept.