Arknights story · Critical Phase Transition
17-1 Breath of the Land
Twenty years ago, the Sarcophagus was sealed off to stop the Ursine Army from turning it into a weapon, yet the First Army has succeeded in firing a weapon whose power source seems to be related to the Sarcophagus.
1 scenes, 302 lines
1. Interlude
302 linesIn Ursine mythology, long before the Crystal Age—or perhaps a far earlier age still—
there once lived a giant named Zheuzhyk.
The giant was so tall, the humans could not see him with their eyes. Each slight movement of his sculpted the shapes of the lands.
The Barton Plains are the tracks of his footsteps. The endless Rudokny Mountains were just barely enough to serve as a pillow when he slumbered.
The giant in the legends could not definitively be described as good or evil. He was simply a big, simple existence that the masses below could look up to.
What is difficult to explain, however, is that references to gigantic beings like Zheuzhyk are often found in different mythologies across the land.
These similar stories might perhaps reflect a common characteristic in all human subconscious:
No matter when and where, from the bottom of their hearts, humans seek some kind of a greater power—an enormous being, abstract or specific, that stands in contrast to their minuscule existence.
Mankind is accustomed to worshipping great beings conjured in the imagination, and seeking their projections in reality.
Yet when such a being finally presents itself before the masses in some shape and form—
It never fails to crush their genial fantasies.
You know, Boris really is a nutjob.
You saw his arrogant shit face when he met the Marshal too, didn't you? He made a bit of coin these past few years and it gave him a big head.
Get him a few more coins and he won't even bow to the tsar.
He figures the Marshal doesn't have the balls to try anything funny. Hell, if the Marshal can't scrape together a decent price? He'd probably turn around right there and side with the Third Army instead.
Heh, that's how anyone would play it, with a decent way out.
A short-sighted businessman sitting on a treasure like this is only ever gonna think about how to use it to fill his pockets. He's never given a single thought to its true worth!
No wonder he doesn't give the Ursine military the respect we deserve. He can't understand what our land is built on. Really, nobody gives us our due respect!
If I were the Marshal, I would've slit that coward's throat and stamped my fingerprint on the contract in his blood.
Heh, if I were the Marshal... I'd order the army to fight to the end, until every Ursine learned to respect us. Not like now... with everyone looking down on us.
Gah... enough of that nonsense!
Do you seriously think the Marshal ever actually backed those morons in the Sixth and Eighth Armies?
With everything they've been up to? They were destined to fail. One does not simply provoke a rebellion in Ursus, especially not with so few guns and battleships... or even with ten times what they had.
They're no different from any of those businessmen. They don't even know where Ursine pride comes from—but the Marshal had it figured out long ago.
So count yourself lucky. You still get to grumble while you're out on a mission, instead of being sent to the Far North to turn to stone with the Infected.
The hell are you doing?
What I was ordered to do. Making sure everyone's dead.
We could've at least had him find the others!
Let's not waste more time. We wouldn't even be here today if these white coat bastards had half a mind to cooperate.
There, found one. Hiding under the desk there.
No! No! Let me go!
Please! Please don't kill me! I'll tell you whatever you want—
What do we do? He's willing to cooperate.
Trust me. It'll be faster if we just do this ourselves.
Keep looking. There has to be more of them.
And get a head count. Remember. No one gets out of this place alive.
I'm starting to get a little annoyed too. This place hardly has any ventilation, and it reeks of blood. Ugh, it's getting my boots all sticky.
Oh... Found one.
There's another here.
An ancient Minoan philosopher once said that 'Man is, by nature, a creative animal.'
By his works, man accumulates experience he then uses to create—in concrete or abstract—and solve the problems he faces.
Such creations fulfill man's needs and assuage his fears. At the same time, they reflect his aesthetics and morals.
Each and every one of mankind's creations is a manifestation of its own traits—
Perhaps it was the same process by which the Creator created mankind.
And among all of mankind's creations, the one that best reflects its innate nature, for good or for evil—
The concept of the 'nation' undoubtedly takes the crown.
...
Director! They've made it into Area D!
I heard... the sound of fighting... Are they... are they killing people?
Ilia, how much longer?
Forty minutes.
We've done all we can, but it'll take forty more minutes to complete the lockdown procedure.
Do we really have to wait till it's completely locked down?
What else can we do?! Do you want me to hand this thing over to the army completely intact, and let it fall into the butchers' hands, letting them effortlessly massacre even more people?
Blyat! I've lived my whole life as a failure. I refuse to be an accomplice to these murderers even in death!
It's too late...
But how could the butchers work out all our secrets so quickly...?
We have a traitor in our midst... Director, somebody must've sold us out.
Sergei, maybe? I should've known when he kept probing me with all those questions.
Blyat! It must be him... Why? He could have been a good man...
Calm down, Ilia. Thinking like this will not do us any good right now.
Focus on the task at hand. We still have a chance to salvage something.
Director... It's too late for us... isn't it?
You got my warning. You shouldn't have come back. Even with you here, we still won't finish in—
Go? Where could we possibly go?
To Taymyr, in the north. It's close to the Third Army's territory. Andrian wouldn't dare launch a manhunt there.
Hide there and stay far away from the cities. Avoid contact with any factions of the government, and do not believe any promises of protection the Third Army gives you.
Go now. I will stay.
......
Ilia?
No... I will stay behind.
Ilia.
I won't run. I can't. You shouldn't be entrusting our colleagues' lives to a man like me!
Director Kal'tsit... No, my teacher. The land needs you far more than it needs me. You should go, not me. You should never have come back at all!
Even if you find a way to hide the Originium on your skin, they will find out that you're Infected. Then you will suffer a fate a hundred times worse than a quick and easy death—
Besides, only you can lead our innocent colleagues to safety. You can't say no.
But you, too, have a reason to live... Think about Lyudmila, your daughter—
Please, care for her.
Take her away from here, away from this country, and as far away as you can... Heh, I was hoping she would get to study under you for much longer, but it is what it is.
Don't tell her what happened here today. Nothing good will come of it. Let her explore the land in her own way.
I promise you. I will take her far away from Ursus. Until she is able to care for herself, she will be safe.
And I promise you this. You and your colleagues' work will not go to waste.
That's more than enough for me...
...It's an intriguing thought. We chose to open this Sarcophagus before, and now we choose to keep it dormant. Which was the right choice?
We did what we thought to be correct. As for the answer, perhaps it is up to Lyudmila... or even her children to determine.
I guess you're right... Now go.
So you're the last one?
The last what?
The last one alive in the lab? Yes. The last one in this country to despise its savagery? Somehow, I doubt it.
You stayed behind. What did you do to the Sarcophagus?
Oh, about ten seconds ago, the Sarcophagus's core function completely locked down. You want to reactivate it? It'll take you lot a century.
You—what are you, vanguards of the murderous Fourth Army? Go back and tell Andrian that his plans to use this beast as a weapon of territorial expansion have just gone belly-up.
Too bad, the glorious Marshal Andrian has failed again and again. His army couldn't conquer a tiny laboratory, or, hell, even a lone, miserable researcher.
Alright, you may exercise your authority to take my life now.
Hm, not bad, for a hard-headed shit...
We'll do it your way.
For the Empire of Ursus, or perhaps even for all the lands, the Sarcophagus was a groundbreaking discovery, possibly meant for a different era.
I, too, once had ill-timed expectations for it. The tragedy that unfolded before my eyes, in the end, was my punishment.
The innocent sacrifice of the talented researchers in the institute...
No doubt that was a punishment to this country for its hubris.
Even if the effects of this punishment may not be fully realized until much, much later.
In this moment of time, I can offer only a small piece of advice.
If you no longer wish to be dragged into this endless cycle of political conflict and revenge...
If you believe that there yet remains something precious on these lands worth protecting from the mandibles of the manglerbeasts—
Then I ask you to keep this letter and to stop the armies' pursuit of the laboratory's survivors.
This is neither a threat nor a plea.
I simply hope that you will make the right decision based on your interests and conscience.
To Marquess Sheremetyevo Boris
In 1077, a bloody incident occurred in the southeastern corner of Ursus. For an empire that had just suffered a devastating civil war, it was hardly a noticeable incident.
Perhaps it will take a hundred years—when historians revisit these turbulent times in their piles of old writings—for everyone to truly understand that what happened at the research institute in Chernobog was both emblematic of its era and a seed.
Even if, at this moment in time, it is buried deep under the Ursine permafrost, waiting for its time to sprout.
Where am I?
What happened to the court martial? What happened to due process?
Why did you bring me here? And where are my men?
Shut up.
You would have to kill me.
You're on death row. It doesn't make a difference whether we kill you now or later.
Too bad for you, the bigwigs don't have time to deal with seditious leadership like yourself, so...
You'll just have to hold up here. Listen to how your men in the other rooms stay quiet?
I'm a soldier, not a criminal. The same goes for my men!
From the moment you worked up the arrogance to rise against the Marshal, your entire formation ceased to be a part of the glorious Fourth Army.
I did the right thing, and all the warriors you have dismissed as traitors, and in fact all Ursines of conscience, know that this is the right thing to do.
No, Captain Yakov Petrov.
What you did was the foolish thing to do, and you dragged your family and your friends into this mess.
......
Mother, please, sit down first... You're shaking.
The people from the army have already gone.
Army... Yakov...
Is that you, Yakov?
......
You are back?
But the apple trees have yet to blossom... It's too soon for your summer vacation.
Has Marshal Andrian been treating you well? Has he been bringing you on his adventures? What about the clothes I had them bring to you? Did they fit?
I can't see well, so I couldn't sew your name onto them... but Sofia helped. You've always loved her handicrafts—
Sofia?
Mother.
You're not Sofia.
Nor am I Yakov. I am neither Brother nor Sister.
Who are you? Why are you in my home? Somebody—
Mother, I'm Tulin, your young son who has been away for a long time. You remember me, do you not?
The servants have been dismissed, and the butler has left.
What are you saying?
Yakov is in prison. Sofia is married, but she is busy scrambling about in Deity Grypherburg, desperately trying to get him out. She needs money to resolve some issues, and we must help.
Moreover, we cannot embroil the innocent in a fate they do not deserve, can we?
*sigh...*
No matter the case, please listen to what I have to say, Mother. You may never have heard these things, but this letter was written by Yakov in prison.
Let me read it for you...
The boy says and opens the envelope, only to find a blank sheet of paper.
In an instant, his face turns as white as the sheet in his hands.
......
Yakov... Isn't Yakov in the army?
The army has been here, Mother.
The boy folds the sheet of paper in half, bit by bit, as if needing the time to slow down and process the truth.
Then, he puts the small and neatly folded square into his breast pocket, normally occupied by a handkerchief, to keep it close to his heart.
They said that because of the role that Yakov played in the Fourth Army's mutiny...
The Petrovs have been stripped of nobility and are now mere commoners... to be exiled to the Northern Tundra Mines, Mining Zone No. 9.
We set out tomorrow.
Old Peter's buried. It's time for us to go.
First, it was our children, then our wives, and then our parents... How many more bodies will we have to bury?
What are you doing, writing a letter? Is it to your mother?
No... Not a letter. I'm just trying to put everything I see into words. If the chance ever comes, I hope people will come to know all that has happened.
You still have the strength for that? I must say, I really envy you.
I can't walk very far, and we still have yet to make it to the Northern Tundra.
It's only been three months since we left Omska.
It'll probably be spring again by the time we make it to the mines.
Spring... Haha! Spring!
My sweet summer child. You think there is spring in the tundra...?
Right, spring. As long as we make it there.
Your mother was spared because she's blind and off her rocker.
She doesn't have to suffer the pain of exile, and you are spared from having to bury her like a nameless woman. Thanks to that, you are so optimistic, you might as well be a lunatic.
But... what gives you the right?
What gives you the right?
You, too, are an exiled criminal, and yet someone like you gets special treatment. You don't have to watch as every member of your family slowly takes their last breaths, as their bodies slowly turn cold.
Is it because I was only a dime-a-dozen porter before I turned into an Infected?
What did I do wrong? And what did you do right?
The Infected murmurs. He wants to scream the thoughts in his mind out loud more than anybody, but he is trapped under the watchful gaze of the guards.
The boy shakes his head and moves up closer toward the Infected.
I was privileged, yes... And it wasn't because of my own hard work. For that, I feel ashamed.
But the question you posed is one that I am seeking the answer to myself.
What?
Why are some of us born privileged, while others are born disdained? Why do we stand in opposition to each other, even though we are all humans? What can we do to break free of the status quo?
I will tell you. I don't know.
But my instinct tells me that we need to at least survive and stand back up.
It's only when we stand together and combine our strength that we are able to keep thinking about where the problem lies and figure out a way to change something.
What are you talking about—
The boy suddenly lifts his head and looks into the Infected man's perplexed eyes.
Just pretend I'm talking nonsense.
The way I see it, people like you with nothing to their name are the true masters of the land.
......
For the time being, please, climb onto my back. At the very least, I still have some strength in me. I can carry you for a while.
'...In Iberia, people almost never turn their gazes upon one another, as if making eye contact were sinful, and as if doing so would violate a deeply held creed.
'I have also witnessed similar behaviors in the mines of Ursus, the slums of Leithanien, and the underground factories of Victoria.
'At first, I surmised that they feared seeing in their soot-covered faces the same despair they felt in their hearts. It was only later that I realized it was because, their eyes had little room for anything beyond the urgency of survival.
'That being the case, who could blame them for their silence and for failing to notice their fellow man, for failing to look to a future even further away, for failing to stand together to rise against their oppressors?'
...
'The land sprawls far and wide. I traveled throughout Ursus, and then made my way to even farther lands. On my way, I continued to tell those who had lost everything—or perhaps have never truly had anything: You are the true masters of the land.
'As things currently stand, and we have yet to see any real change, my words feel like little more than mockery, yet I need to keep telling them. It is only by planting these seeds that they may subconsciously realize the truth behind my words and let them sprout within their hearts.
'When one truly has nothing, one has nothing to lose, granting the most resolute of resolves. The same truth lies within us all.'
Boss!
We're all packed up, ready to go. How about you?
Hm...
Boss?
Uh... Oh! Right. Let's get going.
Thanks for coming to get me. I'm all packed up too—
Uhh.
You dug out all this stuff again? What a mess... Here, I'll help you pack up.
Thanks!
I came to the mines late, I've never seen the one who sent you the letters. Did they really leave the mines and keep on writing to you?
Yes.
First time I've ever heard of anyone missing life in the mines so much.
Perhaps it's not the mines that he misses, but the people.
As I remember, when the news of political prisoners getting pardoned first got here to the Northern Tundra, his first reaction wasn't one of joy. It was worry.
He was worried that we wouldn't be able to leave like him, and that his theories would never be proven...
But he still left in the end.
Of course. He said he'd travel all across Ursus, and now we're leaving this place behind too, aren't we?
Then let's get going, Boss.
Right, I started calling you 'Boss' because that's what everyone here calls you, but I've been thinking, you've got to have an actual name, right?
Huh, have I really never told you?
Hm... Tulin. You can call me Tulin.
Hell yeah, 'Tulin.' Good name. Here, I'll help you up.
Thank you...
Yeah, let's hurry and get out of here.
While the snow is still calm, and before the ones in the warm houses change their minds.
'...Investigation shows that the extremely provocative messages left behind by the instigators are all quotations from Yakov Petrov, a war criminal who got what he deserved during the Great Rebellion.
'While on death row, he wrote a will...'
'Whose fault was the Katorga Uprising? What should we do now? How do we save these young people who know nothing but rebellion?'
...
'While the Chairman's condition is now stable, the fiend behind the assassination attempt remains at large.
'The Deity Grypherburg Police call on everyone to stay indoors after nightfall to avoid arousing suspicion and interfering with the search operation.'
(Flips through the newspaper)
......
(Closes the newspaper)
...!
Zdravstvuyte, gospodin. Could you fetch me a fresher newspaper?
Uh. I-I'm afraid that will require prior approval.
This lounge's newspapers and reading material are maintained daily by a page. I can't just conjure up one out of thin air for you.
Besides, you are an Infected. You may have been let in, but I don't know if you really have authorization to read this—
*cough*!
Gospodin Gorchikov—I mean, General!
You may call me Vice Chairman here. Thank you for your help. I will handle the rest.
What? Could that be... is this your guest?
Bozhe moy... I'm so stupid! Please accept my sincerest apologies, gospodin, for my words—
So it goes. What you said is the truth.
Indeed, I am an Infected.
The newspaper. You, I... I—
*sigh...* Just do as I said, and let me handle the rest!
......
......
'General?'
Please, don't tease me... You know better than anyone whether or not I will become general.
You weren't so hard on yourself before, Vasily.
And you weren't this easy to talk to, for an officer of the army.
The man who stands before you now is a mere Infected warrior, no longer an Imperial Guard instructor.
You still remember my name, do you not? Call me Hellagur.
Very good, Gospodin Hellagur. How does it feel to return to Grypherburg? This is hardly a time for sightseeing, but still.
It's a lot quieter than I expected. A lot of things have changed, so much so that hardly anything from times gone by still remains.
Right. So much has changed, and who could say whether these changes are for the better or worse?
The businessmen have gotten richer. Thanks to that, the city has become a more beautiful place. At the same time, modesty and all our other virtues are now valued less.
Perhaps you've heard already. His Imperial Majesty is going to build a so-called 'citizens' forum' and hand over all decision-making to the common folk of Grypherburg.
And now, we can all say that the nobles have finally given up on the one job they still had and handed it over to the commoners.
It sounds like you don't agree with this at all.
It's not up to me to agree or disagree, but if there's someone out there who can solve all these problems facing society, it doesn't matter who that person is.
This doesn't sound like something the vice chairman, with all his authority, would say.
I've never been one eager to put my power on full display. You know that better than anyone.
Come to think of it, I'm surprised they didn't confiscate your blade when you entered the city.
Oh, this. All they did was make a note of it. I didn't receive too much... special treatment. This is only a replica, and one that hasn't been sharpened. It's as lethal as a piece of scrap metal. Perhaps that's why.
Where's the real one?
I gave it to someone I trust.
Someone you trust...
I understand you have a daughter.
Yes, I do. If we find the time later, I would love to introduce you to her. She has heard many stories of your achievements, and she respects you deeply.
And it's not just her. Many in today's Imperial Guard still remember your name.
It's been some years since we hung up our hats, but those stories yet fly over the Imperial Guard Academy like a banner. At your convenience, I'd like to take you for a visit.
You have my thanks for keeping those sacrifices so close to your heart, but I truly have no intention of serving as a banner ever again.
I am here for another reason. Surely you must already know that Rhodes Island has established an office here in Grypherburg.
I am well aware. I even signed a few documents in the Chairman's stead.
*sigh...* Even if our stance on the Infected has relaxed, the conflicts regarding them remain as sharp as ever.
Still, if we're speaking of you personally—I would be happy to take this chance to restore your honors in Grypherburg.
I don't need the empire to restore my identity or honor.
Then what do you need?
Simply put, what Rhodes Island needs is precisely what I need.
More specifically, you mean—
'Please inform Chairman Witte that the designated Rhodes Islanders have departed for Deity Grypherburg.'
If my timing is right, they should have already made it to the office.
Oh...
Chairman—
Is the Chairman here?!
I am the vice chairman. What's the matter?
I... I have a report!
Th-The First Army—
The soldier tries his best to get a noun out of his mouth, but he finds himself frozen when he spots Hellagur standing to the side.
Vasily shakes his head to signal that there is nothing to worry about.
What of the First Army?
The new weapon of mass destruction that the First Army has been developing... The firing test was successful!
And, what's the problem?
The problem is... the weapon doesn't use Originium... or any energy source that we've ever employed!
What?
......