Arknights: The Deathless Black Snake Just Wants to Live a Simple Life.

Kashchey harbors a secret known only to Himself.

He seems to know His own future.

From the moment of His birth, fragmented images have flickered through His mind—like shards of a shattered mirror.

A crumbling empire.

A young sarkaz king.

The fall of the witch king.

The silence of the deep sea...

These visions passed before His eyes like a slideshow.

Yet He could not comprehend the overwhelming emotions that stirred within the black snake—the grown-up version of Himself—seen in these fragments.

Why is He so devoted?

The young black snake questioned.

At first, He acted purely on instinct—seeking benefit, avoiding harm. After much investigation, He came to believe that the "future" within His mind might be real.

So He aligned Himself with the flourishing Ursus, aiding in the downfall of the decaying Hippogryphs Empire.

When the Ursus Empire rose, Kashchey stood at the heart of the ceremony. He accepted the title of Duke of Kashchey from his comrade-in-arms—the founding emperor of Ursus—within the palace, beneath the gaze of countless onlookers.

"From this day forth, you shall be the eternal Duke of Kashchey of our Ursus."

The emperor declared it with a beaming smile.

The people rejoiced, cheering for the great immortal who had become a pillar of the empire.

Kashchey felt something stir in His heart… but only faintly.

Because the memories of the future still lingered in His mind, detaching Him from everything before Him.

To Kashchey, these memories were like watching a first-person movie.

And who truly feels everything the protagonist of a movie feels?

He had indeed faced life-and-death situations in those [memories], but He was always prepared. He had also encountered surprises not recorded in those visions, but He easily overcame them using the tactics and combat experience from those same memories.

Emotions cannot be passed down.

But knowledge and experience can.

Even if His actions altered the future's course, the insights from those memories allowed Him to navigate life with ease.

That ease left Him emotionally distant from the Ursus Empire.

Helping Ursus rise was merely a way to secure a safe haven for Himself.

When the royal family fell into internal conflict, His response was far more indifferent than the anxious self in His [memories].

As tensions flared between nobles and commoners, He chose only to safeguard His own estate—the territory gifted to Him by the founding emperor—rather than taking the lead as He once had in those visions.

Deliberately, He chose visibility over concealment.

He presented Himself openly to the people of Ursus.

Declared His greatness.

Adopted a stance of neutrality.

Became a symbol of the empire—untouched by the games of power.

He recommended talented and grateful commoners to the empire. When the nobles struggled for power, he preserved their last shred of dignity and became the final safety valve in the political conflict.

He would never fully understand his own fanaticism toward Ursus within his [memory].

One day, he finally grasped the difference between himself and his future self.

"The me without [Future Memories]… is not truly me."

"In my memory, I have an extraordinary love for Ursus."

"But for now, I just want to live a simple life."

---

"I'm sorry. I probably can't help with this research," Mobius said, adjusting her monocle before handing the document back to Saria.

"But I do have some friends who might be able to assist you~"

"Can I trouble you?" Saria asked, backing up the file and sending it to Mobius's communication terminal.

"Of course~ But my friends value their privacy, so I'll remain anonymous~"

"…I appreciate your help, but could you stop speaking in such an irritating tone?"

"Are you angry?"

"A little."

"That's good."

"You bastard..."

Just as Saria was about to lose control and punch the woman with the irritating smile, Mobius had already turned toward the office door.

"I worked so hard today—I came to Rhine Lab and labored for a whole hour. I think I deserve a day off to reward myself."

"Oh, and don't forget to have my salary deposited to my card~"

Mobius closed the door to Saria's office and walked toward the exit of Rhine Lab.

Outside, the [Snake Scales] were already waiting, ready to take over and handle this body.

His [Snake Scales] were professionally trained, each one a rarity among hundreds—making it impossible for Rhine Lab to trace the whereabouts of this body.

Bang!

Hearing the sound of a fist slamming into a desk behind her, Mobius happily left, returning her consciousness to the body that was still within the Reunion Movement—disguised as simply taking a nap.

---

"Lord Kashchey, the Patriot requests to see you," came the voice of the internal guard outside the wooden house.

"Let him in."

As soon as the man known as Buldrokkas'tee entered, he saw Kashchey sitting on a wooden stool, calmly holding a needle and thread as he skillfully knitted a sweater.

"Your Excellency the Duke… what are you doing...?"

Buldrokkas'tee hesitated, stunned by the stark contrast before him. For a moment, he didn't know what to say.

"I'm knitting a sweater for my dear daughter."

Seeing Buldrokkas'tee's shocked expression, Kashchey felt thoroughly satisfied.

As an immortal, he had plenty of time to pick up new skills.

Besides, he still hadn't given up on recruiting the Patriot. After all, the combat strength of the Patriot and the guerrillas was remarkable.

Kashchey had anticipated the Patriot's visit and had prepared thoroughly on how to break through the defenses of this stubborn old Wendigo.

And what better way to draw them closer than by presenting himself as a devoted father?

"You must understand," he said, voice calm and heartfelt, "as a Duke, I cannot openly support my daughter's career. Nor can I provide each of you in the Reunion Movement with a warm sweater."

Controlling his expression, he continued with sincerity:

"But at the very least, as a father, I can use this needle and thread to knit a sweater with my own hands—for my dearest daughter."

"Thank you, Talulah. You've been so helpful."

"I just didn't expect the Duke to be so... talented..."

Seeing the sweater in Kashchey's hands—exquisite, no matter how one looked at it—the Patriot was deeply moved.

"Is this the nature of a father… Duke Kashchey?"

His previously hesitant heart regained its conviction.

"Duke Kashchey, I wonder... have you ever heard of the Sarkaz's [Prophecy]?"

At the mention of "prophecy," Kashchey, who had maintained a lighthearted demeanor, suddenly grew serious—though he still kept the gentle smile of a caring father on his face.

"I wonder which prophecy Buldrokkas'tee refers to?"

"There are two, actually," the Patriot whispered.

"I see cities, devastated. I see Originium covering the land. I see you, with a black crown on your head, boiling millions of lives into memories. I see the Sarkaz King, enslaving all species."

"But I came to Duke Kashchey mainly because of another prophecy."

Kashchey already understood what he meant.

"The last pure-blooded Wendigo died at the hands of the Sarkaz King."

Now, only the Patriot and his son remained as the final pure-blooded Wendigos.