Arknights story · Under Tides
SV-1 Intruder
Late at night, Skadi realizes Specter has disappeared from her treatment ward, and it is none other than Specter's old leader, Gladiia, who has taken her. Before departing, Gladiia tells Skadi that they will be heading for a small town in Iberia.
2 scenes, 334 lines
1. Before Operation
182 linesSilent. Strange. Unfathomable. Outsider.
So they naturally come to say.
Shadowy. Cold-blooded. Leaves for dead. A born monster.
So all will say behind my back.
Yes.
One needs only lose one's home, and one is nothing at all.
Reason says that I, coming here, should have been able to begin a new life.
Except the past cannot be rid. These things follow your shadow and climb your shins, dragging you into the abyss of the swamp.
Not one of us can break free of the past.
If there comes a day, and your home has found you...
2:33 A.M. \ Overcast
Rhodes Island Landship, Hallway
Alright! Once this report's handed in, your field mission will be formally closed out.
Mm.
Wait, is it still... blank? Ahem, hm-hm...
The only thing on this entire sheet is the word 'complete!'
I-I mean, that's not wrong...
...but it wouldn't hurt if you wrote a little more, right?!
Hm?
(What do I do... just how difficult is she?)
(I never really talked to her before. I heard we were linking up with her, and the group leader even warned me... but this is still going to be tricky to handle.)
(Deep breath)
Alright, okay. I understand.
If the Doctor has any questions regarding the particulars of your mission, we'll seek confirmation from you again then.
...The Doctor?
Yes, Dr. Kal'tsit presumed you wouldn't want to hand a report in to her... and she also mentioned Amiya's too soft on you, and it can't go on like this... and so on.
So then we filed this mission away on the Doctor's end.
That woman. Hmph.
Do you want to report directly, then? Looks like the Doctor's out right now, so you can relax for a few days until the Doctor's back.
This report of yours, right now, could seriously use some more fleshing out!
Fine, then. Mission code F1071, confirming submission. Follow-up specifics—
Wait.
Huh?
Give the files back to me. I've decided, it's okay if I add a few more details.
Oh! Of course it's okay! I'll leave it to you, then.
(This might go smoother than I anticipated...)
That's all from me then. Do head back and get some proper... um?
......
Your expression just completely changed. Has something happened?
In likelihood.
Huh? In here? Aboard the ship? An intruder?! I've heard about your acute senses. Could it be...
No, that's not right. The alarms should have sounded if there was danger aboard, right?
...Singing.
Singing? What singing? Er, it's silent all around. I can't hear any...
How? Why is there singing here?
I suppose there is a sort of droning sound, but that's not a song, is it? There's all kinds of machinery operating aboard Rhodes Island. Is it their vibrations, just maybe? Are you still not fully used to it?
...Skadi? You're scaring me a little. What are you tal...
Huh? Hey! Skadi!
Skadi runs too hurriedly, too rapidly. She runs for the stairwell, fearing that those few seconds of apprehension riding the elevator will allow that scent to slip away.
A hunter is walking on seacoast way♪
She can hear the song. Aboard this ship, a vast majority cannot.
This language, this melody, has roused her memories. She is not one for nostalgia, but she knows it all too well.
But... this shouldn't be. This is a song that should not arise here.
With homeland left a mile behind, they must lament and pray♪
The singing shivers all throughout the ship's pipelines.
The scent of seawater, breaking unbreakingly, seeps out from the cabin walls.
Skadi remembers this scent just the same. With the damp closed in on her, her skin continuously contracts, becomes taut. Nervous, yet she is stirred too.
Could she have awoken? She cannot help but hasten her step.
Specter!
She pulls open the door to the treatment ward.
The bed is empty.
......
Perhaps she wanted to take a stroll outside after becoming lucid.
Wait... what is this?
She picks it up, and rubs it in her fingers.
...It looks like hers.
Specter's gold chain had been carelessly thrown to the ground. Or perhaps, deliberately.
Did she despise this item? Then she surely isn't pleased with her current identity.
The affairs of the Church—at least the Church of the sea—are all nefarious ones.
But... something's not right.
Outsider.
Without knowing why, Skadi has abruptly recalled that word.
She realizes that the scent is not Specter's at all.
Compared to the Specter of past, this scent now is too strong, and too callous. Skadi doubts it was simply a surprise that went all too hard to her head.
You're here. Who are you? Come out.
An Abyssal Hunter. But not Specter. Of all things, there were still other Abyssal Hunters who survived!
But why here?
...Where has Specter gone?
She needs to give chase. Something's not right. She senses the other one truly is nearby.
Skadi rushes out the door, and a silhouette flashes by the farthest recess of the corridor.
No... it's two. The singing still remains. The other one still incants.
Specter. That Abyssal Hunter has taken Specter.
So laggard.
If you were any slower, we would've been on our way.
Hunter! Who are you?
In one leap, Skadi pivots the corner, involuntarily feeling for any weapon on her she can use.
—What are you up to?
In that instant, before all else, she meets the other by the eyes.
Wait, you're...
Someone that she has never expected.
Skadi.
You seem quite well.
It has been some time, Skadi. You are still able to recollect the Ægir's song, which deeply gratifies me.
Skadi cannot pick out even a single trace of 'gratitude' in her expression. This woman, from the first she knew her, has never once shown any change on her face.
The tall woman carries Specter. The one Abyssal Hunter that Skadi understands to have survived the past several years, Specter, now lies on Gladiia's shoulder, dreaming another uncharacteristically tranquil dream.
The instant Specter's leader let slip a word, the singing vanished.
Skadi is dazed for a spell. From the port window rushes arid winds that only dry land could blow, brushing past Skadi's cheeks, almost dry themselves. She thinks to herself—this hunter is still alive, Gladiia is alive. Skadi has finally found another of her own.
No. It is Gladiia who found them. Yet...
I thought you were dead. You staked your lives to let us pass. I thought you were all dead.
Life is a precious thing. I am very happy to see that you, too, are alive.
Given Specter was still alive, I'd always been wondering whether or not any more of the Second could have made it...
How did you find this place? Specter... she's still better off staying in the ward.
......
One of the fiercest hunters in all of Skadi's mind chooses, at this juncture, to say nothing.
In Skadi's heart, doubt burgeons.
She's changed a lot. She may not necessarily recognize you now. Her body is still feeble.
Feeble? A hunter could not be feeble.
How long have you been on dry land?
Disease of the land, of a special kind, has hollowed her body out. The people aboard this ship can stabilize her condition.
In all these years, she's never come back to sanity. The current Specter is another person entirely. I don't know what it was that made her like this.
Gladiia does not speak, and the breeze blows through, her hair drifting in its wakes, covering her eye.
Skadi has realized where the problem lies.
Gladiia. Yes, you're Gladiia. There is no mistake. But what do you intend to do?
Where are you planning to take her?
I believed that upon dry land, the hunters were free. Have I misunderstood something?
No, Gladiia... she's still asleep. You never asked her... whether or not she wants to go.
You want to take her away from here.
You seem to show a great deal of interest in these new colleagues of yours. Do they not treat you too in kind? It would be but a passing motion for you to pinch their spines to dust, yet how is it you do not instill dread in them?
For these people of dry land to treat us with enmity is normal, but not for the ones aboard this ship. The ones I have met would not.
I still cannot fathom why you drop your guard.
No... I don't want to get them mixed up in this matter. The problem doesn't lie with me, nor them.
The problem lies in you.
Skadi takes a step toward.
What is your intent in doing this? You had best explain.
Hm...
Yet neither do I have any obligation to explain myself to you.
I simply believe that I should have you know. It was I who took her, a member of my own company. This suffices.
You need not know the reason yet this evening.
But Specter!
—(Two Iberian words)—
Before the name fully reaches Skadi's ears, Gladiia has already slipped from the ship's window into the moonlight outside, Specter's limp body disappearing with her.
Skadi does not reach out. She does not even move.
She knows well that if Gladiia wants to leave, she has no hope of ever catching her; yet, if Gladiia only wanted to escape, then she would not have left any information behind.
She was seeking help, or she was hoodwinking herself. Skadi half-believes it, half doesn't, yet has no other alternative. At the least, she did not order Skadi to do anything, or not to do anything.
'Sal Viento.'
That is what Gladiia said.
Skadi cannot help but go.
Hey, isn't that Skadi?
She looks familiar. A little like the picture.
Ah! Haha, that didn't take any effort at all...
It's Skadi for sure. We hid in the right spot.
Hm?
Hey, see, she responded... and look at her face. That really is Skadi!
Still remember the 'Captain,' Skadi? We've got his money, and now we're gonna avenge him with your life!
You crackbrained idiot... you crackbrained idiot! I said this was a rotten idea!
Didn't we say using his money to run some cons would be enough?! Avenge my ass, bounty my ass! What chance in hell?!
Remember the rumors! If that's really her, you think there's a single cent in this for us? It'll cost our lives!
We'd better scram before it's too late! Grab your dumb scrap and run!
Pah.
You go crawling back to your shitheap bed cuddling burdenbeast piss and yelling mamá. You lose your nerve the moment a single long-haired girl says something to you. You want ME to go home empty-handed? No goddamn way!
You're right! Even if she really is Skadi, even if, what the hell can she do? She's all alone right now, isn't she?
We've got one, two... yeah, a bunch of guys!
But all those powerhouse bounty hunters are rotting in the ground, aren't they? She was alone then too!
And think about it, every time you say you have so many guys, does anything good ever come of it?
And who saw that? If you ask me, those guys? Maybe they just got drunk off their asses one night and all went into the same pretty little Kuranta's room.
Then she got her crossbows out her pants, went free-for-all, blew their brains to mush.
That's what rumors are! If all those wandering singers or whoever went around singing and playing without puffing their stories up a little, you think they'd make enough money to eat?
Splitting fifty mountains with a single sword, yeah, right... and I can punch a hole straight through Londinium with one fist!
Listen to me, brothers! If you wanna eat, come with me!
Skadi, Schmadi, we can put her down right here, and nobody can pinch our gold after! Add the bounty the others put on her head, we'll be set for the rest of our lives plus retirement!
I'll give you a choice. Run now, and you can live. I have no time to waste with you people.
Charge! Kill her dead!
......
(Ægirian) It's the rotted seagrass that clings most to one's leg.
I never thought it would be the annoyance of worthless bounty hunters that remained ever unchanging.
2. After Operation
152 linesSkadi.
You've fallen, Skadi. The old you could've made chunks out of them with just a touch.
Mister José, I am not that bloody.
Hard to say. You've changed, then. You even gave them a chance to escape.
Possibly.
What wind blew you back here again? Why were they waiting to spring you—something to do with me?
I don't know.
I hear you're not in our line of work anymore. Joined some... pharma company? What are you shirking good, decent work for to tromp around these rundown outskirts again?
You're well-informed, Mister José. This time I need you to help me out.
The old man licks his rolling paper, and pulls out some second-rate tobacco from his pouch.
Several years have come and gone. Here I thought you'd folded, seeing as you went through plenty of Kazimierz bounty hunters. This far out from Kazimierz, and I could still hear word of what you'd been up to.
Always thought you only knew how to make big ruckuses.
But you've been quiet as this now.
You came roadrollering in all the way from Minos country like a tow truck, just to find me? Go on, then, tell me what you want.
I need to get to Sal Viento.
Sal... Viento?
Don't tell me. Even you've never heard of the place?
No, I've heard. Out of all us information peddlers, only I must've heard. The question's you—what makes you want to go there?
There's nothing there anymore. Few decades ago... close to nothing left after.
So close to such a vast patch of ocean, and you think anything'd be left? No better than bare frames left, letting the wind and all through.
Many bounty hunters wanting to get up to those abandoned cities, just like beastlings pouncing on a rotting burdenbeast corpse.
All of them thinking there's still meat they can pick off. They don't know whatever they swallow there might as well be a batch of poison.
Iberia. All of them think this unspeaking Iberia's just like Kazimierz and Gaul, treasure all over the map.
Hah, there's nothing there at all. When a place has nothing at all, it's likelier than all it could have anything.
So do you tell those bounty hunters anything?
If they ask me to sell info, I'll sell it. As far as ones like me go, whether those folks come back or don't, it's all business.
Fact is, they don't come back at all. Not one ever comes back.
Two weeks ago, a team came to me. Lackeys of the 'Daggerhorn.'
He had equipment leagues better than all these runts lying around. Very experienced too. Brought more than ten with him. Still haven't seen them again yet.
Very many wonder about where they went. They could've been caught by the Penal Battalion, or it could've been the Iberian Defensa's doing, but I've heard tell of a different possibility.
Over there be... monsters.
Oh.
Or it was the Inquisition that got 'em. I don't know what's a more wretched end.
Monsters or people, my sword draws little distinction. There are only those who block my way, and those who don't.
Alright, alright. You can't be going to Sal Viento for a holiday, that much's for sure.
I need to find someone.
What poor bastard has your wrath this time?
This time's different. It's my... It's someone I knew from before.
Before you even knew me?
Much before.
Here I thought they'd all left. Or died. At least, that's what you told me back in those days.
That's why I'm searching. There's a few things I need to figure out.
You've been searching for quite some years, yeah?
That whole ruckus from last time couldn't have been for any knights' treasure's sakes.
You told me before. People ought to move forward.
—
Did you bring a treasure map with you?
What?
There're many, some of them even old hands. They travel the barrens, traveling and traveling, and forget where they wanted to go, or what they were even looking for.
They just keep on traveling. They don't know starvation, they don't know exhaustion.
Until the barrenlands do them in.
They were too weak.
Weak? No matter how much stronger, a hunter could still never conquer the boundless barrenlands. So many hunters die for no sure reason out on the road, and don't even know what they're searching for come their deaths—that's not an ending that suits you.
Why are you telling me all this?
As if I've never told you before? They wouldn't rival even the tiniest Ægir machine.
You're strong. So did you save my son's life?
I'm sorry.
Don't say sorry! I'm not trying to flog you here. I'm trying to get you thinking. It's you who hasn't forgiven yourself, not me.
I only regret that I didn't break his legs, stop him following an old papá in his old tracks. Nothing to do with you.
You say you came from the sea. I've never heard of any other sea than the one in Iberia. You're someone I don't know.
So what about you? Is there no one you don't know?
Because that's the kind that killed my son. Someone you don't even know.
That's the sort of thing I'm afraid of.
Never mind it. At least the people you talk about wouldn't spend day and night plotting to kill me. What are you thinking of doing in Sal Viento?
I have a friend who's been taken there.
Strange, that.
Take this. Map.
Alright. What do I need to give you?
Give me?
You sell intel. One thing for another. You've given me information, I'll give you what you need.
(Flicks cigarette ash)
Let me think... That year you brought my young Juan's body back, you handed him to me. Head and arms all still attached to him. So, now we're even.
Stop! Are you in such a hurry to get yourself killed?!
Hm?
Hey. Tell me—has anyone ever said anything like that to you before?
No.
Then you need somebody to tell you well.
You're strolling straight into an Iberian city dressed in all your bounty hunter clothes?
Yes.
You really haven't changed, Skadi. Here I am parching my mouth, and I might as well be the wind for all the good telling you anything does.
The Iberian Defensa'd have you ten times over for looking like that!
And how much time are you ready to waste on them? How much longer can the person you're looking for wait? Iberians aren't like these lousy bounty hunters. They're not that easy to break clean of.
You want to suggest something to me.
I can lend you a few things. Take this harp.
Harp?
Can you play? I remember you played before.
I can.
Good, all the better. Would be fine if you couldn't, long as you pulled off the act.
Change into these too.
What clothes are these? They're very strange.
Whether you're used to them isn't the point. Iberians are.
......
From now on, you're the wandering singer Skadi.
Go where you want now, singer. Follow the map, go by the waterways, and you'll get there soon enough. This you can do, Ægir.
Farewell, Mister José.
Skadi!
Don't you die out there. You have to die with someone, someone you know.
Help—Help me!
What are these things... they—they're tangling me, they won't let go! Chopping them apart doesn't even work. Is the entire coast all monsters like this?
Hey—get away, get the hell away!
I wouldn't have come if I goddamn knew! Ja pierdolę, 'Yellow Smog,' bastard, if only you weren't so useless to get hoodwinked back then, would I still be stuck picking up garbage out here?!
Skurwysyny, if I'm not dead by the end of this I'll wish I was! Goddamned Iberia! Country of the actual goddamned!
What—What the hell was that? Turning them all to paste in one shot?
Huff... huff. Whatever it was, at least it lets me live another day—
Ugh—
You. You're not leaving.
And—And who are you? Where the hell does Iberia get all these freaks from?
Second time. Iberia forbids the spreading of rumors. The next you move to speak, be much more careful.
What? Look at that getup, that weapon—
Holy shit. You, you're... that's it, I'm done for, I'm...
Commander. The coast is clean now.
This place is void of all living—er, excepting this outsider who can't stand still and stinks to high Heaven.
What did you see?
I... I...
Please, I haven't done anything! I swear it, I, I was only lost, I was too careless to end up here, I didn't mean to...
Look, I have gold coins, and plenty of other stuff too, damnit, I've lost so much... Take this money, this equipment, all of it, I just beg you to let me go!
Gather your scraps. When the Commander asks you a question, it's not to hear you blather, outsider.
Question? What question? I swear, honor, I wouldn't dare ask questions... I've got no questions, I guarantee...
I beg you, honor, I don't want... Don't take me... I'd be better off if I just died!
Casting yourself into the sea in front of me? Do you still think it's not too late?
That sword... my hand... too close... wargh...
Now, have you regained some sense? You outsiders are as good as insects in the weeds, hearts avaricious and blackened, yet always so quick to fall to pieces.
Ugh, ah... I'm not running anywhere, honor, I'll tell you anything.
Good. I do not like repeating my questions. This will therefore be the final time.
What did you see on the coast?
I, I... *cough* *cough*... I saw monsters.
How many of you came?
Originally twelve... uh, counting the guide, we're thirteen total.
Commander. He's not lying. I've found the corpses myself along the coast.
*Sob*...
Hey. What use will crying be for you now? If it weren't for you all intruding, they wouldn't have sought you out. When you violate the law, you should anticipate the costs.
That said, twelve have died... They've been proliferating in number, all along the way here.
They can't have gone too far from their nest.
This serves to show your judgment was sound. The closer one approaches, the more numerous they are. There is surely something amiss going on in that town!
You may depart.
And this fellow? He has seen much he shouldn't have.
Spare... Spare me! I've told you everything I can! Sir, Commander, your honor... ohh, mama...
What... did you see?
I... I...
We made an agreement.
I do not know what sense lies in such conduct.
You agreed to it.
Agreed? Pledged—(Bones and flesh chafe against each other.)—promised? To prior be granted an act, and afterwards to accomplish one different?
No.
To such requests of yours, I will respond. No agreement, nor promise.
A response... but of course.
Honorable herald—
That you will to respond is already my honor.