Arknights story · Operator Records
Voices
Tishinna, a student from the Imperial College of Science and Engineering, anxiously searches for talk of her hometown, but hears an unexpected broadcast instead.
1 scenes, 249 lines
1. Interlude
249 lines'Tishinna, be sure to act properly at the awards ceremony. Leave all your little gadgets behind.'
The wind blows cold in Bresk.
Stubborn snow carries a breeze into Tishinna's ear, making her shiver.
The cold interrupts her brainstorming as to how to respond to her relative's advice, and she tightens the scarf around her neck.
Vague noises from the square float through her loosely knitted scarf, spin in her mind, then vanish completely.
As the people in front of her move, inch by inch, to their names being called, she follows suit.
Tishinna's right hand subconsciously feels her jacket pocket for her earphones for the third time, and she seems to hear her own name through the blur of voices around her.
'Number eleven, Tishinna Viktorovna Belyaeva.'
(That's not how my name is pronounced. But maybe the cold air's frozen his tongue and microphone.)
(They'd definitely have better equipment in the Imperial College's broadcasting room.)
(The campus loudspeakers aren't like the ones here, at least. I can always hear static from these ones, although I do quite like it. And I can always increase the noise-canceling function on my end.)
Tishinna follows the line and moves forward. On the slightly slippery metal steps, walking on the loose snow feels more like treading on cotton.
When she looks down, she notices a bit of mud on the edge of her shoe from when the snow melted at her house, but now it is too late to wipe it off.
A check covers the muddy stain.
(Grand Duchess Elisabeth...!)
(I...)
Tishinna accepts the scholarship check with both hands.
'I am grateful for your generous subsidy.' 'It was wonderful enough to stay in Bresk, and I never expected I could study and live in Deity Grypherburg.'
'Grand Duchess Elisabeth, I am honored...'
As she mulls over which line to express her gratitude with, the noble lady merely nods at her before moving on to the next student.
Her carefully crafted words of gratitude remain unspoken.
The cold winds in Bresk stifle even the applause in the square. Tishinna looks around to see the Grand Duchess's figure, but all she can hear is her own thoughts.
(Please don't worry. I will become one of your chosen—at least, your generous sponsorship of my tuition fees will not be in vain.)
(I will graduate from the College with flying colors, and my studies will contribute to the safety and stability of Ursus.)
(Here...)
...Having another of your Third Bureau fantasies?
......
Hey, what are you listening to? Earphones off, now!
The white noise abruptly stops. Tishinna removes one of her earphones, and blankly stares at her classmates standing before her desk.
Um... Did I fall asleep?
You actually fell asleep? I didn't think that metal box could actually lull anyone into dreamland.
Huh? No, it's just a radio gadget, not a sleep aid. Phew... though, if I switch the frequency to a classical station, I'm quite sure it could help with insomnia.
You gotta hand it to 'Botani' here. Poor bookworm has no clue we're making fun of her with her earphones in.
So what are you always listening to anyway? Not eavesdropping on us, are you?
She made that herself, you know... what a weirdo.
Tishinna blinks.
I've been searching for news from my hometown, but I haven't heard anything in the past few days... if you want to see what my device is receiving, I can show you a frequency band chart.
The noise from the school's outdoor broadcast system has been louder than usual over the last two days.
I don't know if it's because the new signal towers aren't properly calibrated yet, but sometimes that noise seeps into the station I'm listening to...
So you're eavesdropping on the school? Are you insane?
Not on purpose. I think you could see it as a side effect. You could have a listen, if you like.
But I don't think you'd be interested. Even after adjusting the frequency, it's mostly just static, sometimes the sound of metal, or a conversation muffled by white noise...
Previously, I managed to capture a short... it sounded like a prayer... oh, maybe it was an encrypted message.
Huh...?
You spend all day fiddling with these while everyone else is busy preparing for graduation. What's the point of it all?
Isn't it obvious? Haha, isn't she eager to join the Third Bureau so badly?
It's alright if you guys don't understand. You don't tune into the radio, so you wouldn't know how the outside channels are changing...
Put it this way, wouldn't you think it strange if one day, you suddenly hear an emergency evacuation signal? If you weren't informed of a drill prior, would you decide then to run or not?
What nonsense are you spouting? My dad will tell me if I should run or not, duh... no, I don't even need to evacuate on my own! I'm not like you!
So you mean the writing on your paper is an emergency evacuation signal?
I thought your disabled mother was asking you for money in code.
......
Hey, lemme see it!
Hey, hey, hey—What is this? 'Pier A3-2, requesting reception, no. 41 command failed'...
Haha, don't you guys think it reads like a love letter in code?
How romantic! Sure sounds like 'My dearest love, tonight I await you at pier A3, but refuse to show up, and you'll see what failure tastes like!'
Look at this one, 'Visitor 04 is now in passage L1-E, requires replacement ID.' Tsk, I can feel the love from here. Even asking for a new identity?
Hey, who do you think wrote this for Botani? Or maybe our Botani was the one who wrote this for someone else?
Maybe the juniors who're always up to something secret? They're fellow bookworms like this one over here!
Ahem, you hear that, 'Third Bureau'? Listening in on us through the wall socket?
Madame Botani can no longer work with you, because she has to rush off and meet with the young—
The paper passes through many pairs of hands, from the two students to the many students behind them, all laughing.
Tishinna does not understand what they find so funny. The fragments on the paper are completely unrelated to the younger boys in the school, who are strangers to her.
She wants to point out the holes in their flawed theory, but no one pays her any mind as they laugh and mock her.
Finally, the paper is crumpled into a ball, thrown like a baseball at her, but flies past her head.
The ball lands on the corridor floor, before a pair of shiny leather shoes.
Tishinna looks up to the owner of these shoes.
Are you Tishinna Viktorovna Belyaeva, a fourth-year engineering student at the Imperial College of Science and Engineering?
The window is open just slightly, and the wind that comes in brings Tishinna back to her senses.
She suddenly cannot remember if she actually voiced her pledge, if the Grand Duchess had heard it, or if she had turned to look at her.
Or perhaps the Grand Duchess only walked forward, chased by Tishinna herself, before she was surrounded by soldiers and thrown to the ground—
Slam. The window is shut, the room remains cold.
Are you awake?
...I'm sorry. I-I seem to have fallen asleep.
Even in a situation like this?
There is no surprise or blame in the officer's tone, as if he is merely assessing Tishinna's behavior.
At the same time, he turns the brightness dial of the desk lamp all the way up.
But the poor lamp has already reached its limit, so the officer turns it around, the lightbulb now directly shining on her face.
......
Your questioning... I don't know how long it's been since I was brought here from the school. I'm so tired, I want to go back...
Go back? Do you mean the Imperial College dorms, or back to Bresk?
You've asked me so many times, and I've likewise answered accordingly. I want to go back to my dorm room to sleep...
The last time I asked you this question, you responded with 'Can I get ten more minutes of sleep?' and before that, you said 'I want to go home.'
You have given nine different answers to this question.
Ursus needs you to be honest, not tired.
So, what did you mean? The dorm, or Bresk?
I just want—
Stop.
You are agitated. Calm down a little, then reply with a definite answer.
......
I want to go back to the dorms to have a proper night's sleep... officer.
For what reason did you create this listening device yourself?
......
Tishinna's focus briefly returns to the room.
Her obviously exhausted expression is the polar opposite of the officer seated across her, who looks as if he is merely here for his shift on a regular weekday.
Weekday? Or is it already the weekend? Is it morning? Or night? When the window opened earlier, there seemed to be light coming in. Tishinna ponders to herself.
Tishinna Viktorovna Belyaeva?
Yes... I wanted to know the daily goings-on back home.
I made it based on Catastrophe Messenger's radios, and it doesn't always work, but sometimes I do manage to tune into stations from Bresk.
But recently I haven't heard anything, no matter how I tweak the settings. I—
Stop.
Did you try using this listening device to steal information you should not have heard?
I did not—
Please watch your tone.
...I'm sorry.
I just wanted to know what's happened to my hometown. Sir, could you please tell me—
Stop.
Tishinna's question is immediately disregarded, just like the countless interruptions from before.
He taps on a piece of paper on the table that seems to have been flattened from a ball. Next to it are many more sheets torn from the same notebook.
You wrote these logs?
Yes.
What were you recording?
I... I don't know either. I tried expanding the receiving range, then at some point I randomly heard all of that.
Why did you record it?
I thought... it was perhaps a prank, or a puzzle.
Sir, as I mentioned earlier, my classmates are always telling me about some things I can't quite comprehend... So I thought it was a puzzle they set up.
And what did you hear from this 'puzzle'?
Bits and pieces... of what sounded like a conversation, although it sounded compressed. Some parts sounded more like a phone call, while others... maybe more like two people talking about stories and dialog lines.
Are you aware of what the log's contents mean?
I don't know...
This piece of paper doesn't seem to agree with you.
I...
Your recordings are clearly noted, even if they're just fragmented phrases.
Even if incomplete, you still organized, guessed, and even deduced possible situations from it.
I... I just thought some of the names seemed... familiar.
What names did you hear?
One part... I guess it was a call? They mentioned a name of someone in charge of border customs, I think it was Strelkov?
Continue.
And someone else, in the Ministry of Finance... was to be 'sent to the sanatorium to recuperate' after 'the duties are done'.
I thought it was a prank, or a radio play, I'm not sure which...
But they mentioned where the sanatorium was, a city on the edge of the Far North, though I heard nothing about Bresk...
I...
Continue.
I thought I might lose out on hearing news of my hometown if I stopped...
My coming graduation has left me little room to breathe, and I don't have money or time to spare to go back home, so—
Stop.
So, why did you record it?
......
I... wanted to know what exactly I was hearing...
I wanted to get a clear picture of what it was that I heard, even if it wasn't information about my hometown or a puzzle's solution...
I-I was just curious, sir.
Tishinna tries to sound as honest as possible, but the consecutive days of interrogation have left her tongue so parched that she can no longer tell how coherent her words sound.
A long silence ensues. The air is only filled with the sound of the officer tapping his finger on the desk.
Tishinna Viktorovna Belyaeva, you came to Deity Grypherburg after receiving a subsidy from Grand Duchess Elisabeth, and enrolled in the Imperial College of Science and Engineering.
As a descendant of Far North immigrants, you have no other notable qualities in your life so far.
You entered school with a clear goal in mind, yet you only rely on participation in technological competitions and campus research projects to attract attention.
You expressed to your school an interest in joining the intelligence community, yet you were rejected.
You've been waiting for a chance to be selected, recommended, or headhunted by intelligence.
Tishinna Viktorovna Belyaeva...
Are you a loyal citizen of the empire?
After the long silence and countless repeated questions, the robot-like officer suddenly asks a new question.
I... am, of course...
I will not betray the subsidies and education granted by Grand Duchess Elisabeth...
I will graduate from the College with flying colors, and my studies will contribute to the safety and stability of Ursus.
Tishinna recalls the awards ceremony before she left Bresk.
The noblewoman handed her the scholarship check, which she gripped so tightly that the edges were all folded by the time she got home.
The wind was cold when she was heading home that day. The winds in Bresk are always colder than in Grypherburg.
Sir, no matter how I adjust the frequency, I cannot find news about Bresk...
There is nothing in the papers or news, I just want to know—
To ponder, to judge, to question. That is the road to desertion.
What...?
You shall listen, observe, and record accurate notes. That is all.
But...
Pondering is for higher pay grades. Questioning is the innate nature of the untamed.
You need only record.
Do you understand?
I... da.
Repeat after me.
To ponder, to judge, to question. That is the road to desertion.
...To ponder, to judge, to question. That is the road to desertion.
I shall listen, observe, and record accurate notes. That is all.
I shall listen, observe, and record accurate notes. That is all.
Repeat.
To ponder, to judge, to question. That is... the road to desertion.
The strict officer does not rush a follow-up command, but takes a metronome-looking device from his pocket. He presses a button, and steady clicks fill the room.
Continue.
Um, to ponder, to judge, to question. That is the road to desertion—
Stop.
Start over.
To ponder, to judge, to question, that is *cough* the road to desertion...
Start over.
To ponder, to judge, to question, that is the road to desertion...
Continue.
...Um, 'continue', as in...?
Start over. From the top, repeat what I said.
......
To ponder, to judge, to question, that is the road to desertion...
Start over, then continue.
To ponder, to judge, to question, that is the road to desertion...
I shall listen, observe, and record accurate notes... That is all.
Tishinna does not know how many times she has repeated these sentences, or how long it has been since the cold wind came in when the window was last opened.
During this time, her interrogator changes a few times, and she herself seems to have taken a few naps.
Did she get any sleep? Tishinna is somewhat unsure of her answer to this new question in her head.
If this is all just a nightmare, then she does not know where it started. Was it when she couldn't get news of home, or when she was brought here into this stuffy room?
She does not know for sure, until the officer across her gets up.
Remember: All we do is to preserve the honor and purity of Ursus. Even if we are not on the battlefield, we are always at war.
You may return to school.
......
Do not forget these words, but do not spread them, either.
You need only record.
Do not forget your duty, Tishinna Viktorovna Belyaeva.
Heh, Botani? How strange, she's finally back at school.
She returns just as class ends, and Tishinna hears a familiar voice through the crowd.
She is unsure if that dim room was too quiet, or if the corridor just has too many different types of noises and she is now unused to it, but her head suddenly feels a sharp pang of pain.
I didn't think you'd dare skip so many classes without notifying our lecturers beforehand. I thought you quit, having run out of money for tuition fees.
Oh, I know! Don't tell me you went to pawn off the more valuable parts of your body so you could afford to continue your education?
Or did you spend the past few days being a toy of some noble dukes?
Oh, probably not nobles, though. Ursine lords aren't too fond of peasants like you, so probably some upstarts with a bit of fresh funds in their hands—
When you say Ursine nobility, do you mean yourself? Or your uncle? Your relative?
Tishinna's sudden question freezes the chatty bot on the spot.
What...?
When you say Ursine nobility, you mean your uncle at the Ministry of Finance who 'chose to resign'?
He seemed to have given up his own conscience along with the lives of others before, but now, it sounds as if he's pulled the trigger himself.
Where did you—
I merely heard it.
Noise like that always spreads in a crowd.
Actually, everyone already knows it. Your friends were talking about it when you were gone. What I heard isn't much different from what they talked about.
Of course, it could've been your other uncle, the one who was in charge of border customs. Your family is big, right? But everyone doesn't seem so eager to remain in Grypherburg.
But what's so bad about the capital?
She does not realize how the naivety in her questions nearly sounds like malice, until she notices a rare bewildered expression on the boy's face.
Noises in the corridor suddenly disperse, leaving a hollow silence around her.
Her view begins to shake, and as she watches groups whispering to each other, Tishinna feels she might vomit on the spot.
Before the boy manages to turn his embarrassment into rage and grab her collar, she runs away.
'*bzzt*, *bzzt—*'
Nothing here. Or here.
No, I have to increase the search range...
......
Why...
Tishinna feels as if her ears are clogged by static and her tinnitus. The pressure level inside seems different than the atmosphere outside.
She has lost her sense of time over the past few days.
After running out of college and returning to the dilapidated shack she frequents, Tishinna is unsure how long she has spent huddling in a corner, or how long her radio has been running.
What about the neighboring city's frequencies...?
'*bzzt*—'
I-I can hear a little something...!
Local news, entertainment reports, music, music...
Why, why is no one talking about Bresk? Why has no one mentioned it?
What happened to Bresk?
......
*huff*, *huff*... Calm down, calm down. Then, resume a search for Bresk's signal...
Calm... I will, simply listen, no longer judge, I will record, I won't interfere...
To ponder, to judge, to question, that is the road to desertion...
All I have to do, is to listen, observe, and record accurate—
—What?
Tishinna's hand flies to her mouth, and the rushed action accidentally pulls her earphones from her ears, the cord scraping a red line across her wrist.
But she does not feel the pain as her hand remains fiddling with the knob, the heated metal shell turning her fingers slightly numb.
A vague, inaudible voice comes from the earphones by her hand.
'*bzzt*, *bzzt*...'
'Comrades in the mines and cities.'
'We come from the Far North.'