The clock struck 5:00 AM in Ch'en's modest Lungmen apartment, the pre-dawn light filtering through the blinds, casting faint stripes across the kitchen.
Howard stood at the counter, his sleeves rolled up, a faint hum on his lips as he prepared breakfast.
The kitchen was small but functional, its counters cluttered with jars of spices and a well-worn cutting board.
He cracked three eggs into a bowl, their yolks a vibrant gold, and whisked them with a steady rhythm, the mixture turning a pale yellow.
A sizzle filled the air as he melted a pat of butter in a skillet, the rich aroma wafting through the room.
He poured the eggs in, watching them spread and bubble, then sprinkled a pinch of smoked paprika, a dash of cracked black pepper, and a hint of dried thyme, the seasonings flecking the omelette with bursts of colour and scent.
With a deft flick of his wrist, he folded the omelette, its edges golden and crisp, and slid it onto a plate, the steam rising in delicate curls.
Ch'en shuffled into the kitchen, her Lungmen Guard Department uniform slightly rumpled, her draconic tail swaying lazily behind her.
Her eyes were half-lidded, her voice barely carrying energy as she leaned against the doorway.
"Thanks, Howard," she murmured, her tone a mix of gratitude and exhaustion.
Howard glanced over his shoulder, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he plated a second omelette.
"No problem," he replied, his voice calm and steady, as he set the plates on the small dining table.
It had been weeks since Howard had started living with Ch'en, a necessity born from the destruction of his detective firm.
The attack that razed his office had forced him to cease all operations, and with no firm to run, he'd paid his employees' severance from his own pocket—a gesture of loyalty despite the loss.
Money wasn't a concern for him; his savings, bolstered by years of high-stakes cases, were more than enough to weather the storm.
Living with Ch'en had become a practical arrangement, one that suited them both amidst Lungmen's chaos.
Howard brought the plates to the table, the omelettes paired with slices of toasted bread and a small bowl of fresh berries.
Ch'en's eyes lit up, a rare beam of happiness breaking through her fatigue as she sat down.
"Amazing as always," she said, her voice brightening as she picked up her fork.
She took a bite, her expression softening with delight, then sighed, her tone shifting to a grumble.
"Work's been a nightmare lately—too many papers to go through , and the higher-ups won't stop breathing down my neck."
Howard nodded, taking a seat across from her, his own omelette untouched for the moment.
"I can imagine," he said, his tone sympathetic.
With no firm to run, he'd taken up a new role as a temporary crime analyst for the L.G.D., a position that suited his skills and kept him in the loop.
His knack for recalling details—dates, names, patterns—had earned him a peculiar nickname among the department: "World Archive".
His ability to list solved crimes and connect seemingly unrelated cases had skyrocketed his fame within the L.G.D., making him an invaluable asset in Lungmen's ongoing battle against crime and chaos.
They chatted as they ate, the conversation light despite the weight of their respective burdens—Ch'en venting about her workload, Howard sharing a dry quip about a particularly stubborn case file.
Time slipped by, the clock ticking toward their departure.
They finished breakfast, cleared the table, and prepared to leave, the morning light now brighter through the windows.
Ch'en adjusted her L.G.D. badge, her sword sheathed at her side, and headed for the door.
"I'm off to the precinct," she said, her voice regaining some of its usual steel.
"Don't get into too much trouble, 'World Archive'."
Howard smirked, grabbing his jacket. "I'll try," he replied, following her out.
Ch'en headed toward the L.G.D. headquarters, her path a familiar one through Lungmen's bustling streets.
But Howard had a different place to start his day—He had to visit that place.
Since he never really owned a car, transport had become a problem after the loss of his company, so this time a change was required.
Unwilling to rely on Lungmen's crowded public transport, with Ch'en's guidance he'd acquired a sleek black motorcycle, its frame lightweight but sturdy, perfect for navigating the city's narrow alleys and busy thoroughfares.
He pulled on his helmet, the visor reflecting the morning sun, and straddled the bike, its engine purring to life with a low growl.
With a twist of the throttle, he set off, the wind whipping past as he moved toward his destination, the city of Lungmen unfolding around him in a blur of neon and steel.
***
I sat by Camelia's bedside in the Lungmen medical ward, the sterile scent of antiseptic hanging heavy in the air.
The room was quiet, save for the steady beep of the heart monitor and the faint hum of Originium-powered equipment keeping her stable.
Camelia lay still, her chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm, her once-vibrant features now pale, marred by faint scales that shimmered with an eerie blue—a remnant of the seaborn blood.
Her deep blue eyes, now closed, haunted me every time I visited.
I leaned forward, my voice soft as I began to speak, hoping somehow my words would reach her through the coma.
"Camelia, it's me—Howard," I started, my tone gentle, almost a whisper.
"I've got another story for you today. Remember that case we worked on last year, the one with the smuggler ring in Lungmen's underbelly?"
"Like a hero in a fantasy novel, you had to save me after I failed so miserably."
"We laughed a lot when we discovered them trying to smuggle Originium crystals past the L.G.D with aluminium papers ."
"You said it was the best day of your life…"
Howard tightened his grip.
"I hope you can hear me, Camelia. I need you to wake up soon."
I paused, my throat tightening as I watched her still form, the guilt gnawing at me. I'd saved her life, but at what cost?
It was all on me. I forced a small smile, brushing a strand of her hair from her face.
"I'll be back tomorrow with another story. Rest well, okay?"
I stood, adjusting my jacket, and left the ward, my boots echoing down the corridor as I made my way out of Lungmen Hospital.
The morning air hit me as I stepped outside, crisp and tinged with the metallic scent of the city.
I headed toward my next stop, my mind narrating the shifts in my life as I walked through Lungmen's bustling streets.
The past few weeks have reshaped everything I thought I knew about living in Terra.
After the attack that turned my detective firm into ash, I had to let go of the life I wanted.
A comfortable life while occasionally running into the characters I wanted to see.
I sold off what little remained, made sure my team was taken care of with what I could spare, and found myself adrift in a city that never sleeps.
Moving in with Ch'en has been a lifeline.
Perhaps it would be the perfect dream to live with her for others.
It is enjoyable to me. There is too much to do right now, and I do not think I can tell her much about myself just yet, but maybe when we develop a much stronger relationship in the future.
'Her body is so beautiful that I have to suppress myself, damn it.'
Living with her who often forget she is living with me isn't for those with a faint heart.
But her steady presence was grounding me even as she battles her own demons at the L.G.D.
I've carved out a new role for myself, working as a crime analyst for them, digging through case files and connecting dots others miss.
They call me "World Archive" now, a nod to my memory for details, and I've found a strange sort of pride in how quickly I've made a name for myself in their ranks.
I've tied up the loose ends of my old life and set the stage for what's to come.
I know I've altered the Arknights storyline in ways I can't fully predict—Columbia takeover, my deeper ties to the L.G.D., the underworld resurrection.
I'm not just a player anymore, guiding operators from behind a screen; I'm part of this world.
I've started laying plans to ensure key events unfold, even if they don't match the game's script.
I got word from Alexander yesterday—she's making strides.
She's established a base and trained the teens we recruited, preparing them for the storm ahead.
By the time Chapter 1 of the main storyline begins, with Reunion's rise on the horizon, we'll be ready.
That's when the real game starts, when Terra's chaos truly unfolds.
I wasn't heading to the L.G.D. just yet. Instead, I took the road to a small coffee shop , a quiet spot tucked between two towering buildings in Lungmen's commercial district.
The sign above the door read "Blackstone Brew", its neon glow flickering slightly.
I pushed the door open, the bell jingling softly, and stepped inside, the aroma of roasted coffee beans and fresh pastries washing over me.
I wasn't here just for a caffeine fix, though; I was meeting someone.
I scanned the room, my eyes landing on a familiar figure seated at a corner table, a steaming cup of coffee in front of them.
Lin Yuhsia, the underworld princess, was there, her piercing eyes sparkling with determination.
With a slight smirk on her lips, she gestured me over, and I could tell that this meeting was about more than just catching up.