Arknights: The Life Inside-Chapter 75

Time represents endless eternity, and space connotes unbounded infinity. They are absolute concepts, the fundamental attributes of existence itself, and the unchanging framework within which all things evolve.

What is done cannot be undone. The only thing one can change is the future. If the past were truly altered, the ripple effect would reshape the present in unpredictable ways.

This is the rule of the universe, the principle of all things—immutable, untouchable, unshakable.

Yet, in this moment, Yoren discovered a flaw. A contradiction so absurd it felt like seeing a shark resting in the desert or a panda swimming in the deep sea. It defied logic, upended reason.

For the first time, he was forced to question his own understanding of the world. Was the world wrong, or was he?

Or perhaps, they both were?

Coupled with the strange phenomenon he had discovered about Kroos, this brought Yoren back to a thought he had when he last traversed the real world.

Back then, he was certain—this was not the same world. Or, at the very least, the two worlds did not exist within the same dimension.

Because this all pointed to one inescapable truth: the butterfly effect.

The butterfly effect is change. The moment someone perceives a shift, it confirms that something has deviated from its course. No matter how minor, even if undetectable to the naked eye, a change is a change. And where there is change, something has gone wrong.

At the time, he theorized that if he returned to Terra and found drastic changes, it would prove that his actions in his original world had bled into this one.

Now, that hypothesis had been confirmed—but it wasn't enough.

Because no matter how hard Yoren tried to reason it out, nothing he did in his original world should have caused such a shift. Whether he left traces of himself there, or even something as trivial as stopping for a meal along the way, it shouldn't have led to Kroos never having been to Chernobog.

Which meant, this still didn't prove whether Terra and his original world were one and the same.

For now, Yoren set aside the mysteries he could not solve and focused on the immediate facts.

First, the world had changed in ways he hadn't noticed before. If he hadn't met Kroos today, he might never have realized it.

Which led to the next question: what was the catalyst for this change? What was the turning point?

After thinking it over, there seemed to be only one possibility—his time travel itself.

Setting aside the butterfly effect, what if Terra was altered simply because of his repeated jumps through time?

Every time he leaped back and forth, small deviations rippled across the world. The reason he hadn't noticed them before was because they had never directly affected his path.

Kroos never having gone to Chernobog did not prevent him from meeting Vina. So when he returned, everything seemed unchanged. Likewise, minor shifts did not stop him from waking up in the temporary villa of the Glasgow gang, nor did they affect his journey to Mandel City. So each time he came back, his trajectory remained the same, even as the world around him subtly shifted.

This might all seem trivial at first glance. If the changes didn't matter, why should they be of concern?

But when viewed from a higher vantage point, the implications became terrifying.

If Kroos had never been to Chernobog, how many other changes had gone unnoticed? The world was vast, and if his existence had the power to influence history, then these unseen alterations could be slowly reshaping Terra into a version he no longer recognized.

Perhaps, in this world, time was not an unshakable law. Perhaps, like lifeless objects, the people of this world simply couldn't perceive when time had been rewritten. They accepted history as linear, never questioning the gaps in their memories.

Yoren gripped the cold metal railing of the deck, his fingers trembling slightly.

His sideways jumps had stopped—at least, in theory. He was now a part of Terra, bound to it. But who could guarantee that he wouldn't be pulled back again in the future?

And if he did return after all his struggles, only to find the world altered beyond recognition—what then?

What if the next time he set foot in Terra, he found that he had never met Vina in Chernobog? What if he'd never been to Mandel City at all? What if the black-and-white twins inside him ceased to exist? What if, on some unfamiliar street, Turtle walked past him without even a flicker of recognition?

What if everything he had fought for—everything he had built—was simply erased?

The railing twisted under his grip with a metallic groan. As if sensing his turmoil, a flock of seagulls took flight, vanishing into the night sky.

Cold sweat dampened his skin. It sounded absurd, but he had frightened himself with his own conclusions.

Facing the sea, Yoren sucked in a shaky breath.

He knew these were just conjectures, but nothing in his experience had ever followed the rules of logic.

This world didn't play fair.

He thought he was playing Landlords, but the world was playing Mahjong. Just when he thought he had a winning hand, the game flipped to chess. And after struggling through countless moves, he finally realized—he had been living in a Truman Show all along.

A quiet chuckle escaped him.

Was this it? Had some higher power pulled him from his world just to toy with him? To watch his struggle, to see the fleeting hope in his eyes before tearing it away? To relish in the moment when the light of victory turned into the abyss of despair?

No.

His gut told him otherwise. This world harbored a secret—a truth beyond time and space, hidden away because it had crossed into the realm of forbidden knowledge.

Had the previous era truly perished by its own hand? If the Source Stone had always existed, why were there no natural disasters before? And now, were these so-called calamities a punishment... or a salvation?

At some point, Snowsant had appeared beside him. She gazed up at him, her small face tinged with concern.

"Yoren, you've been acting strange. Did something happen?"

She might have been playful at times, but her intuition had always been eerily sharp—especially when it came to him.

Yoren turned to her as the sea breeze brushed against their faces.

"Snowsant... if one day, the world changes beyond recognition and we meet again as strangers—will you still remember me?"

"No."

Her blunt answer made him smile wryly.

"Yeah, of course not. How could you?"

Snowsant took a step forward and grabbed his hand.

"But for me, I never forget the things I forget. So I won't forget you—not now, not ever. As long as we stay together, I won't let go. That's our promise."

The wind howled around them, but Yoren felt a rare warmth settle in his chest.

Somewhere in this shifting, uncertain world, there were still things worth holding on to.

Human beings are creatures bound by their own inherent thoughts. Once trapped in a certain mindset, they can easily spiral into extremes. Even if their actions remain rational, their thoughts may not.

Yoren had never been a pessimist, but he no longer had the luxury of being naive. He wasn't the carefree, foolish boy he once was. From his standpoint, he had to consider the worst possible outcomes.

It reminded him of those martial arts masters who were obsessed with their craft. They believed themselves to be the most talented, convinced they would master the secrets of their discipline with ease. But after practicing a few moves, they were struck by the harsh reality of their own limitations. Some couldn't handle the disappointment, and in their desperation, they lost themselves to madness.

Why? Because they placed themselves too high from the start. They took themselves too seriously.

But that would never happen to Yoren. From the very beginning, he had kept his expectations low.

Though he often joked about being a time traveler who rewrote history, he understood the truth—his survival had been based mostly on luck. Strength had played little role in it. Only after inheriting the power of the black and white twins did he finally step beyond the novice stage.

And now, moving forward, luck alone wouldn't be enough. It was time to rely on his own abilities.

A silent threat is the deadliest one. The world could see him as a fool, even he himself could feel hopelessly stupid at times, but that was what people often overlooked—the quiet, unnoticed danger lurking in the shadows.

So no, Yoren wasn't going to lose his mind over this. He wasn't going to let the mysteries of the world consume him to the point where he couldn't function.

Why didn't Kroos recognize him? Only the devil knew.

It was like his own method of time travel—smashing his phone into his own face. It wasn't scientific, it wasn't supernatural, and even trying to explain it with quantum mechanics was a stretch. Yet, it happened. What could he do about it?

Even if he racked his brain until he lost all his newly grown hair, he wouldn't be able to find the answer. He simply wasn't at the level to understand it yet. But just because he didn't understand something didn't mean it didn't exist.

Finish what needs to be done. Do what needs to be done. As Saileach had once said—leave the rest to fate.

Yoren reached out and gently ruffled Snowsant's hair.

"Alright, I promised you. We'll never be separated."

"Pinky swear."

"Pinky swear."

Snowsant hooked her small finger around his, smiling brightly.

"Let's go find Brother ACE and the others."

"Yeah, let's go."

ACE and Ifrit stood by the hatch leading into the ship's interior, waiting for them. When Ifrit saw them approaching, she crossed her arms impatiently.

"What were you doing on the deck? I thought you were going to throw yourself into the sea."

"You're the one who's going to throw herself into the sea."

ACE clapped Yoren on the shoulder. "You look like you've got something on your mind. Is it about that military officer? Need my help?"

It was obvious ACE had noticed Yoren's distracted state earlier.

Yoren shook his head gently. "I appreciate it, Brother ACE, but I'm fine now. Don't worry, I'm not pretending to be strong—it's really nothing."

Overthinking what he couldn't understand was pointless. Right now, his priority was getting to Victoria safely.

Just then, a crew member in uniform approached them.

"You all shouldn't be lingering on the deck. Passengers will be boarding soon. You need to stay in the cargo hold until we leave port."

Ifrit frowned. "Why? Ugh—"

Before she could finish, Yoren covered her mouth and answered for them. "Understood. We're not familiar with the layout—can you show us the way?"

Yoren didn't know much about the ship's structure, and given that it belonged to Terra, he expected it to be different from anything he was used to. As they descended through the corridors, he realized just how massive the ship was. How big? Like the Titanic—no, scratch that, bad omen.

The ship wasn't as large as the Titanic, but with its Originium-powered engines, it was undoubtedly faster. And, hopefully, it wouldn't sink. Yoren had faith that if they hit an iceberg or a reef, the ship would either push through or change course in time.

They followed the crew member down through several levels. They passed through an ordinary passenger cabin filled with tables, chairs, a bar, and even a dining car, but it was clear they wouldn't be staying there. Further below, they passed an area filled with strange machinery and cables, warning signs plastered everywhere.

At last, they arrived at the cargo hold—a cramped, dimly lit section at the bottom of the ship.

Because this was a passenger ship, not a freighter, the storage area was small. It seemed that cargo was only loaded through a designated port access point. Otherwise, it could only be reached via the narrow stairwells. A hidden space, to be sure.

Now that he was here, Yoren had to acknowledge a growing sense of unease.

To be honest, he had noticed something off for a while now but never had the chance to seriously think about it. Ever since he saw the sea, he had felt an overwhelming sense of wrongness.

Based on what he knew of Terra, there was one glaring inconsistency—aside from natural disasters and Originium.

The sea.

In Arknights' lore, the ocean was barely mentioned. Aside from a handful of operators with connections to the sea, it was almost completely absent from the world's background. And those who were tied to the sea were shrouded in mystery.

After seeing the real world of Terra, Yoren was certain of it.

No matter where he went, every meal he had eaten was noticeably lacking in fish. More specifically—sea fish. He wasn't saying people in this world never ate fish, but from his observations, it was incredibly rare.

And if a civilization didn't fish, it meant they didn't venture into the sea.

Bra City was Colombia's largest international transportation hub and one of its few coastal cities. With its scale, its port should have been massive.

But what Yoren saw was the opposite. Compared to the vast city, the port was pitifully small. He had asked ACE before, and from what he was told, this was the only port for both passenger and cargo transport in Bra City.

If people in this world didn't fish, and they didn't invest in maritime transport, then there was only one logical conclusion.

For some reason, the people of this world feared the sea.