Arknights - Echoes Of The Unfound Dawn

A/N: I force my self to write this chapter, the reason why is because it iwas my worse week, for more explanation check my latest chapter of danmachi fanfic, it has my full explanation, I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter.

As Ch'en straightened her coat and adjusted her sword at her side, she gave Xian a final glance. "Rest up. I'll check in on you later," she said curtly, her usual composed tone back in place.

Xian nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Don't work too hard, Lieutenant."

She rolled her eyes but didn't bother with a retort. With a brief nod, she turned and walked out of the room, the sound of her boots fading into the hallway.

As the door clicked shut, Xian let out a long, heavy sigh, slumping back against the pillows. His gaze drifted to the floating status screen hovering a little to his right, the soft glow of the interface catching his eye.

"Let's see how bad it is this time," he muttered to himself, pulling the screen closer with a flick of his fingers.

His eyes scanned the information displayed, noting slight improvements in his overall condition. His skill progression was listed next, showing incremental growth in most areas. Some skills had barely budged, but others had advanced more than he expected.

"First-hand experience, huh?" Xian mused, stroking his chin thoughtfully. It made sense. Practice alone couldn't simulate the adrenaline, danger, and focus that came with actual combat or high-stakes situations. But how was he supposed to gain more of that without throwing himself into life-threatening scenarios every other day?

He shook his head, pushing the thought aside for now, and shifted his attention to his body condition report.

The moment his eyes landed on the data, his casual demeanor evaporated. His expression tightened, and he leaned closer to the screen, his brows furrowing.

"Damn…" he murmured.

The report painted a grim picture. The Originium crystals inside him had spread further than he'd realized, their jagged growth gnawing away at his internal organs. His body was holding up, but barely. Even with the treatments and stabilizers, the damage was extensive.

But it was the new feature at the bottom of the screen that truly caught his attention.

"What's this?" he muttered, tapping the section labeled "Internal Composition Analysis."

A cascade of information unfurled, detailing the compounds and elements within his body, everything from vitamins and blood type to DNA and traces of medical substances the doctors had injected into him.

At the very bottom of the list, a new entry stood out: "Originium Containment Mechanism."

Xian's eyes widened as he read through the description. His body had developed or perhaps been forced into a unique adaptation. The Originium crystals within him weren't just consuming him anymore; they were also being compressed and converted.

His body had essentially become a biological compressor, able to gather Originium energy from his surroundings at an accelerated rate. More than that, the mechanism could influence the matter extracted by Originium, amplifying his abilities.

"This… this is insane," Xian murmured, his voice tinged with disbelief.

At first, the newfound potential seemed like a blessing a powerful tool he could wield. But as he read further, the catch became painfully clear. To maintain this process, he would need exceptional mental stability. Without it, the mechanism could spiral out of control, potentially driving him into madness.

Xian quickly shifted his gaze to the "Mental State" section at the top of the panel. Relief mixed with unease as he saw his current sanity listed at 97%.

"Well, that's comforting," he muttered sarcastically. But the implications were impossible to ignore. To use this power effectively, he'd need to tread a fine line, balancing his mental fortitude against the risk of losing himself.

As the weight of the situation sank in, a dry laugh escaped his lips. It was a quiet, murmuring sound, almost like he was trying to stifle it.

"What is this…" he muttered, running a hand through his hair. The laugh came again, a little louder this time. "What is this?"

His voice grew more incredulous with each repetition, the absurdity of the situation crashing over him. "I'm a walking time bomb… with a fancy power-up attached. Great. Just great."

He slumped back, staring at the ceiling with a mix of frustration and dark humor. "Sacrifice my sanity for power. Yeah, that's a fantastic trade-off. Who came up with this genius system?"

The status screen hovered silently in the air, offering no answers.

Xian let out another sigh, the laughter fading into resignation. "Guess there's no turning back now," he muttered, his eyes drifting closed. "I just need to make sure I don't lose my mind before this whole mess is over."

As Xian sat in silence, second s passes then minutes follows. His mind swirling with thoughts as he tried to make sense of the information before him. The potential to influence atoms and molecules? The idea seemed absurd, yet it was right there in the data.

"If I can manipulate atoms… molecules… then what's the difference between this and my skill of Modifying?" he muttered to himself, his brow furrowing.

His thoughts spiraled, diving deeper into the possibilities. Could this new ability allow him to reshape matter on a fundamental level? Was there a threshold to its capabilities, or was it limited by his imagination or worse, his sanity? Xian's mind raced, theories branching out like tree roots, each one more convoluted than the last.

Eventually, he sighed, leaning back into the hospital bed. "No point overthinking it," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Trying's the only way to know for sure."

He turned his head to the window on his left, watching as the sun dipped lower on the horizon. The warm hues of the sunset bathed the room in soft amber light. His gaze shifted to the clock mounted above a painting near the door where Ch'en had exited earlier. The painting depicted a lively concert, the crowd lost in the euphoria of music. The clock's hands pointed to 4:46 PM.

Xian's attention returned to the window. Slowly, he raised his left arm, stretching it out toward the fading light, his fingers curling as if trying to grasp the sun itself. Seconds passed. Nothing happened.

Then, faintly, a soft glow began to emanate from his hand a mix of gold and dark violet, shimmering like a fleeting mirage.

He pushed harder, concentrating, willing the power to manifest. Suddenly, he felt something inside him shift a tiny snap, like a taut string breaking under pressure. Pain flared through his arm, sharp and searing.

Xian groaned, biting down on his lip to stifle the sound. He clenched his teeth, his breath hissing through them as he cursed under his breath. "Damn it… this hurts more than I thought."

Despite the pain, he brought his hand back, resting it on his lap. His breathing was uneven, his forehead damp with sweat, but a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Heh… it worked," he murmured, chuckling softly despite the lingering ache.

He opened his palm and stared at the result: five buttons resting in his hand. Three were gold-yellow, and two were stark white.

For a moment, he simply stared at them, his expression caught between bewilderment and amusement. "Buttons?" he said aloud, his voice laced with disbelief.

He turned his hand slightly, letting the light catch on their surfaces. "Out of all the things I could've made… buttons?" He shook his head, laughing softly. "Guess I shouldn't have expected perfection on the first try."

Though it wasn't what he'd envisioned, the fact that he'd succeeded at all was enough to satisfy him for now. He closed his hand, letting the buttons vanish from his thoughts as he relaxed against the bed.

Xian's gaze drifted back to the sunset, the warm light easing the tension in his body.

Arknights Echoes of the Unfound Dawn

Ch'en's boots echoed softly in the corridor as she exited Xian's room, her expression unreadable. The door clicked shut behind her, and she let out a small sigh. The sudden vibration of her communicator broke the brief silence. She glanced at the screen—Swire.

Flipping open the device, she answered, "Swire. What is it?"

"Ch'en! Finally, I got through," Swire's voice crackled with its usual energy. "How's Xian? He's awake, right?"

Ch'en's brow arched slightly. "He's awake. Stable, but his condition is… complicated. We'll need to keep monitoring him closely."

"Complicated, huh? Sounds about right for that guy." Swire's tone was laced with sarcasm but softened with genuine concern. "I was starting to think he'd sleep forever. Good to know he's up."

There was a pause on Swire's end before she muttered, "Anyway, I'd celebrate, but I've got my hands full here. I'm keeping an eye on his little protégés at his restaurant, and—hey, I told you not to burn that! Are you trying to set the kitchen on fire?!"

Ch'en frowned, her sharp ears picking up the faint voices of children arguing in the background. "Swire, where are you?" she asked, her tone suspicious.

"Uh, nowhere important," Swire replied quickly. "Just handling some… business."

Before Ch'en could press further, the arguing grew louder, the voices clearer now.

"I told you it needs more salt!" one voice shouted.

"No, it doesn't! You'll ruin it!" another retorted.

Ch'en blinked in surprise, her tone tinged with disbelief. "Swire… are those kids? What's going on over there?"

Swire groaned audibly. "It's nothing, alright? Just some noise. Hold on—hey! If you two don't stop bickering and focus, I'll toss you both out of the kitchen!"

The faint sound of mumbled apologies followed, though the arguing didn't completely stop.

Ch'en couldn't help herself. "Swire… you have kids now?" she asked, her voice laced with amusement. "Since when? You're not exactly the maternal type."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Swire snapped, clearly flustered. "They're not my kids. I'm just… supervising. Xian left them at his restaurant, and someone had to make sure they didn't burn the place down."

"Interesting," Ch'en said, smirking. "You, of all people, playing babysitter."

"Shut it, Ch'en. Don't you have something better to do?" Swire shot back, her voice tinged with embarrassment. "Anyway, I need to go before they ruin another dish. Keep me updated about Xian, alright?"

Ch'en chuckled softly. "Will do. Good luck with your… 'supervision.'"

Swire muttered something unintelligible before hanging up.

Closing her communicator, Ch'en tucked it into her pocket and stepped outside the hospital. The air was cold, carrying the faint rustle of leaves from the nearby park. She glanced around and spotted a vending machine by the park's entrance.

Walking over, she selected a can of coffee and leaned against the machine while it dispensed her drink. She opened it, took a sip, and let her eyes wander over the peaceful scene in the park.

Nearby, a bench caught her attention, and she made her way over, sitting down with a sigh. For a moment, she allowed herself to relax, the weight of the day easing slightly as she watched the sunset fade into the horizon.

As Ch'en sank into the park bench, after drinking the can of coffee, she then next get the milk carton. While gripping the milk carton she had just bought from the vending machine. The simple act of drinking should have been calming, but her thoughts swirled like a storm, dragging her back to the hospital room and the chaos that had unfolded only days ago.

The hospital's fluorescent lights had cast a stark glow over Xian's unconscious form, his body entangled in wires and tubes. His condition had been critical, but Dr. Aelita worked tirelessly, her hands a blur as she adjusted the machinery keeping him alive.

Swire and Ch'en stood to the side, their earlier bickering silenced by the gravity of the situation. For once, Swire's fiery nature was subdued, her sharp tongue replaced with an uncharacteristic quiet. Ch'en, ever the observer, watched as the doctor moved with precision, her own thoughts a mix of worry and suspicion.

Finally, Aelita stepped back, exhaling as the machines around Xian beeped in steady rhythm. "He's stable now," she said, her voice heavy with exhaustion.

Swire let out a relieved sigh, her shoulders sagging. "You're a damn miracle worker, Doc. Seriously, I don't know how to thank you."

Ch'en allowed herself a small smile, glancing at Xian's face. The faint rise and fall of his chest reassured her more than she cared to admit.

But the moment of relief shattered as Aelita turned to Swire, her sharp gaze cutting through the air like a knife. "If you're serious about thanking me," she began, her tone measured, "I need something from you."

Swire's brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

Ch'en straightened, sensing the shift in tone. "What exactly are you asking for, Doctor?"

Aelita didn't flinch. "I need a blood sample from Xian."

The room grew still. Swire's easygoing demeanor hardened instantly. "No," she said flatly, her voice like steel.

Ch'en narrowed her eyes but remained silent, letting Swire take the lead.

Aelita stepped forward, her expression earnest. "Listen to me. His blood could hold the key to understanding Originium infections. It could save lives - thousands, maybe millions. I'm not asking for much, just one sample."

Swire's eyes darkened. "You think it'll stop at one sample? You think once word gets out, people won't start hunting him down like a resource? He's not a lab experiment, Aelita. He's a person."

Aelita's frustration bubbled over, her voice rising. "I know he's a person! But do you have any idea what it's like out there? People dying in the streets, entire families wiped out because we don't have answers! This could be our chance our only chance to fight back."

Swire's fists clenched, her anger flaring. "And what happens when this 'chance' turns into a nightmare? When every faction on Terra wants a piece of him? You think Reunion will just sit back and let us use him? Or that some shady bigshot won't try to weaponize him? You're risking his life for what? A maybe?"

Aelita stepped closer, her eyes blazing. "Do you know how many mothers I've seen bury their children? How many people have begged me for help while I stood there, powerless? If I have even a sliver of a chance to save them, I have to take it!"

"Don't you dare lecture me about sacrifice," Swire shot back, her voice dripping with venom. "I've seen people die too—friends, comrades. And I know what happens when you turn someone into a tool. You think you're helping, but all you're doing is painting a target on his back."

Ch'en, standing between them, finally raised her voice. "Enough!"

Her sword was out in a flash, the red electricity crackling through the room like a storm. Both Swire and Aelita froze, their eyes wide as Ch'en's presence filled the space.

Ch'en strode forward, her expression cold and unyielding. She opened the door, glancing down the hallway to ensure no one had overheard. Satisfied, she shut it with a sharp click and turned back to them.

Her voice was low but carried a weight that silenced further argument. "This is not the time or place for this. Swire, Aelita, you both need to stop letting your emotions dictate your actions."

Swire crossed her arms, her frustration evident but her voice subdued. "Ch'en—"

"No excuses," Ch'en interrupted, her eyes narrowing. "Doctor, I understand your intentions, but Swire is right. Xian's life is at risk, and we will not gamble with it. That's final."

Aelita looked ready to argue again, but Ch'en raised a hand, stopping her. "However, I understand the importance of monitoring him. You can remain his doctor and study his condition, but under strict supervision. If you step out of line—"

Ch'en's blade hummed softly, its red glow casting an ominous light on the room. "You'll answer to me."

Aelita hesitated, then sighed, nodding reluctantly. "Fine. I'll abide by your terms."

Swire let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "Good. Now can we focus on keeping him alive instead of turning him into a lab experiment?"

Ch'en sheathed her sword, glancing at both women. "This week has been long enough. Let's not add to the chaos."

Back in the present, Ch'en leaned back on the park bench, her right wrist draped over her eyes as she let out a tired sigh. "What a week," she muttered to herself, the weight of the past days pressing down on her.

The milk drink in her hand was warm now, but she didn't care. For now, she let the cool evening air soothe her, the distant sounds of children playing in the park offering a rare moment of peace.

Ch'en drained the last of her milk in one final gulp and stood up, stretching her legs after sitting for so long. The cool evening breeze brushed against her, bringing a small measure of clarity to her muddled thoughts. With her empty carton in hand, she walked to the nearby trashcan, her boots clicking softly against the pavement.

She tossed the carton into the bin with precision, her focus already shifting back to the hospital and the long night that lay ahead. But just as she turned to leave, a strange sensation bloomed in her chest—like a string suddenly snapping.

Her brows furrowed as she glanced down, confusion turning to shock. Two white buttons were missing from her crisp long-sleeve uniform, leaving the fabric slightly ajar and exposing more than she was comfortable with.

Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson as she instinctively clasped the fabric together with her left hand, holding it tightly to preserve her dignity.

What the hell? she thought, frantically scanning the area to ensure no one had noticed her predicament.

She cursed under her breath, her composure unraveling in the face of this unexpected wardrobe malfunction. With a sharp intake of breath, she spun on her heel and began walking briskly toward her car.

But her embarrassment propelled her faster with each step until her walk turned into a near sprint. Her usually steady and confident strides were replaced by frantic movements, her other hand fumbling in her pocket for her car keys.

Reaching her car, she flung open the door and slid inside with a relieved sigh, slamming it shut behind her. She leaned back against the seat, her heart pounding—not from exertion, but from the sheer mortification of it all.

"Unbelievable," she muttered, staring out the windshield at the darkening sky. Ch'en took a moment to collect herself, adjusting her grip on her shirt before starting the engine.

No one saw that. No one. At least, that was what she told herself as she drove off, her face still faintly flushed.