Chapter 32
Some say that death is the ultimate teacher, revealing all the answers like the results of an exam. But that revelation comes too late.
Yoren did not die, but at this moment, something far worse had taken hold of him—despair. It coiled around him, suffocating, inescapable.
Once upon a time, Yoren had walked home from school, staring at the dark clouds overhead, daydreaming about an oncoming storm.
If the world of Terra truly existed, would the people there witness the same ominous sky before a catastrophe? Would their storms dwarf this one in sheer magnitude, consuming everything in their path?
Once upon a time, Yoren had lain in bed, lost in thought, his mind drifting beyond reason.
If the world of Terra were real, could we still treat Arknights as mere entertainment?
War. Ruin. Freedom. Death.
We, who live in comfort, will never understand the despair of those stripped of identity and home—because we are not Infected.
Now, he would receive his answers.
The ice, laced with rubble, began to crack and crumble, fine powder dusting the broken streets.
Yoren lay sprawled on the ground, gasping for air. His vision blurred as crimson tendrils spread across his eyes, his limbs numb, his body wracked with a searing pain that felt like a thousand needles burrowing into his flesh.