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

After finishing his simple breakfast, Kashchey sat in silence for a moment, contemplating the situation.

In the end, he chose not to inform Emperor's Blade.

If the emperor truly intended to act against him, alerting the Emperor's Blades would only serve as a warning to the enemy.

And if the transfer order was a forgery, the emperor could easily eliminate those responsible without needing to lift a finger.

"This body's growing a bit stale… perhaps it's time to grant it a dignified end."

He stepped out of the cabin. The Emperor's Blade stationed outside were silent as ever, tactfully avoiding any mention of the events from the night before.

But before he could walk more than a few steps, a familiar presence appeared—not unexpectedly.

Talulah had emerged from behind the trees, hesitating, clearly wanting to say something but unable to find the words. She followed a few steps behind him, her expression conflicted.

"This child really is troublesome."

After more than a decade of raising her, Kashchey could guess her thoughts with ease—no need for mind reading.

"My lovely daughter," he said suddenly, turning with a warm smile, "would you spare a moment to spend some time with your long-lost father?"

He glanced at the surrounding members of the Integration Movement, who had paused in curiosity. Catching his gaze and tone, they quickly took the hint and dispersed.

It wasn't appropriate to eavesdrop on personal matters—especially those involving the private family life of their leader.

"O-of course…" Talulah stammered, flustered.

They returned to the cabin and settled down before the fireplace.

Kashchey dismissed the Emperor's Blade, who took up position outside the door.

"Thank you," Talulah murmured, hugging her knees. Her dragon tail swayed gently behind her like a restless child's, far from the image of a hardened, optimistic commander.

She had learned the full story from Alina the previous day, and the more she thought about it, the more terrifying the outcome became.

Had Kashchey not appeared when he did, she might have lost Alina. And if that had happened, she knew rage would have consumed her—turning her into a vengeful, violent shell of herself.

Now, she looked up at the man before her—the so-called "father" she thought she knew.

White hair. A scar over his left eye. He didn't look old, not really.

And yet… she realized how little she truly understood him.

She had heard the stories—that Kashchey had many bodies, that he was the Deathless Black Snake—but she had never seen him inhabit any form but this one.

When she had been sick as a child, she'd always wake to find this body seated quietly at her bedside, reading documents under the dim lamp.

When she had nearly been tricked at her first formal dance, he watched her stumble awkwardly through the night, only intervening when things were about to get out of hand.

He never forced her to follow his path.

When she chose not to help manage the family territory, he simply let her go.

When she expressed her desire to attend Victoria's university alongside her sister Ch'en Hui-chieh, it was he who forged the perfect false identity to ensure her peaceful college life.

And when the Integration Movement had been on the brink of famine, it was his supply chain that quietly sustained them through the crisis.

She might have developed some feelings for Kashchey.

But Talulah was afraid.

He treated her so well—almost like how an ordinary person might care for a pet cat.

Kashchey understood her deeply… but she didn't understand him at all.

Does he truly see me as his daughter?

Or just as a pet to pass the time?

Conflicting emotions twisted in Talulah's chest, making it difficult for her to completely open her heart to him.

---

"Oh, my dear daughter," Kashchey said with a gentle smile, "given the bond between us, you really don't need to worry about such trifles."

It was the same practiced, pleasant smile he always wore.

Though Kashchey wasn't entirely certain what Talulah was thinking, he didn't feel compelled to read her mind.

'That would be too boring.'

After all, Kashchey didn't seek to live his long life as a cold, calculating machine. He wanted variety, color, and some degree of spontaneity—so long as his safety remained intact.

And right now, Talulah posed no danger to him.

---

The two of them chatted from morning until noon, their conversation spanning from the affairs of Ursus to the ever-present conflict between the Infected and the non-Infected.

Talulah listened with rare humility. Kashchey's insights, born from a profound reservoir of knowledge, answered many of her long-held doubts. His vast experience allowed her to understand things she hadn't dared voice and helped her see paths to avoid unnecessary hardship.

Kashchey, for his part, listened patiently to her complaints and grievances, just like he used to. He played the part of the reliable father with practiced ease.

After a modest lunch, Talulah reluctantly excused herself and returned to her duties.

This gave Kashchey the opportunity to take a leisurely look around.

"Let's see what this so-called 'Integration Movement' that becomes famous in the future looks like now."

With a few Emperor's Blades in tow, Kashchey began his inspection.

The camp was bustling with activity. Middle-aged and able-bodied men were tilling the soil, laying bricks, and constructing homes. The elderly watched over the children, teaching them letters and numbers. Women busily knitted thick sweaters to help endure the harsh tundra climate.

Soldiers, too, were training in organized ranks under the watch of the Patriot's guerrilla officers. Despite the worn and stained condition of their uniforms, every soldier trained with seriousness and determination.

A few even waved to Kashchey as he passed, offering warm greetings.

Seeing the light of hope flicker in their eyes, Kashchey felt something stir faintly in the young Emperor's Blade chest.

These people were completely different from the fearful, desperate Infected that the young Emperor's Blade had encountered in the past. These people had purpose. They had dreams.

"Master Kashchey," the young Emperor's Blade beside him said quietly, "your child may be capable of building something truly great."

Kashchey responded only with a slight shake of his head.

"I hope so."

Unlike the young Emperor's Blade, who was still caught up in the moment's optimism, Kashchey—an immortal with a mind sharpened by ages—could sense the shadows lurking beneath the surface.

He believed in the goodness within Terran nature…

But he believed even more in the strength of Terran desire.

"It seems Talulah is destined to suffer."

Amidst the hopeful cheers and diligent labor, he also felt the subtle vibrations of laziness, betrayal, greed, and envy festering in the hearts of a few.

Without a change in expression, Kashchey continued his inspection.

"With the blood of a Draco… can you truly defy fate?"

---

In a building in Columbia, a white-haired Vouivre woman sat calmly at her desk, meticulously reviewing a stack of documents.

She was the Director of the Defense Department at Rhine Lab—an accomplished entrepreneur, a distinguished scholar, and one of Rhine Lab's founding members: Saria.

One particular file caught her attention.

[On the Assumptions Regarding the Gender of Feranmuts and Immortals]

Saria's brows furrowed slightly as she read the title.

She carefully flipped through the pages of the report.

"After extensive investigation, we have found that most incarnations of giant Feranmuts and immortals maintain fixed physical forms and, in many cases, distinct genders. Only a very small minority display ambiguity in this regard.

But why?

As beings with vast lifespans and unknown origins, it appears they do not rely on reproduction—none of them seem to die of natural causes.

If reproduction were part of their nature, their numbers would logically grow. Yet they remain exceedingly rare. This rarity stems not from birth or death, but from the sheer difficulty of eradicating them.

I propose allocating personnel and resources to further this line of research. A deeper understanding of these beings could yield unprecedented insight into the nature of the Feranmuts."

'Who came up with this theory?'

Saria's hand paused, pen hovering over the page, ready to cross out the proposal. But then, a memory stirred—an image of a young phidian with emerald hair, wearing a white lab coat and a monocle, her lips always curled in a faint, knowing smile.

She remembered that woman clearly.

She had joined Rhine Lab in its earliest days, offering invaluable support through the company's most difficult trials.

"I am an immortal devoted to truth. You may refer to this body as Dr. Mobius."

---

Saria set the pen down and, after a moment of thought, signed her approval.