The stairwell was dim, the faint hum of Siesta Solace Hotel's distant nightlife filtering through the walls as Ch'en and
Howard waited in tense silence.
Howard, now a three-eyed crow perched on Ch'en's arm, his glossy black feathers stark against her white t-shirt, was lost in a storm of thoughts.
His crimson eyes, unnaturally sharp, stared into the middle distance, grappling with a reality that felt increasingly alien.
This isn't right, Howard thought, his mind racing through fragments of knowledge he'd carried into this world.
He'd always prided himself on his grasp of Arknights lore—every faction, every operator, every major event etched into his memory from countless hours spent in the game.
But since arriving in this reality, cracks had begun to show.
The Utopia drug smuggling in my first case—never mentioned in any story.
The Laterano incident with Seaborns—nothing like that in the lore. And now this… thing in Siesta.
His mental catalog of Arknights events offered no answers.
A being that warps reality, rips out hearts, and traps my soul? That's not in any event, side story, or operator record.
He shifted on Ch'en's arm, his talons gripping lightly.
I know the butterfly effect. Changing the plot could ripple out, altering details.
But this? This is too much.
The cases he'd solved, the anomalies he'd faced—they felt like they belonged to a different world entirely.
Is this even Arknights anymore?
The question gnawed at him, a cold weight in his chest. His own abilities, too, raised questions. They weren't like how they were described to him.
Am I part of the anomaly? Did I bring this chaos with me?
Ch'en's voice broke his spiral, soft but laced with worry.
"You're quiet, Howard. What's going on in that head of yours?" Her arm was steady under his weight, but her eyes, still red from earlier tears, searched his crow form for answers.
She's holding it together for me, he thought, a pang of guilt mixing with gratitude.
They both are.
Before he could respond, the stairwell door swung open with a creak.
Hoshiguma stepped through, her turtleneck slightly askew, her expression a mix of grim satisfaction and urgency.
"Got it," she said, her voice low. "The cops released his body. It's being brought to the room now."
Ch'en's eyes widened, her grip on Howard tightening slightly.
"How? They were locking down the whole floor. What did you do?"
Hoshiguma smirked, though it didn't reach her eyes.
"I've got my ways, Chief. A little intimidation, a little Lungmen charm." She paused, glancing at the crow on Ch'en's arm.
"But we're not out of the woods yet."
Howard's crow form ruffled its feathers, his voice sharp despite its eerie echo.
"No time to waste. We need to get my body back to the room. Now."
Ch'en frowned, standing carefully to keep him balanced.
"You keep saying that, but you're not explaining. What's going on, Howard? What are we dealing with?"
"I'll tell you everything once we're secure," he said, his three eyes glinting with urgency.
I don't even know if I understand it myself, he thought, the image of the faceless entity—its black coat, its demonic laugh, the way it tore his soul from his body—burning in his mind.
That thing isn't from Arknights. It can't be.
"Just trust me. We move, then we talk."
Hoshiguma nodded, her earlier grief replaced by a steely focus.
"You heard the bird. Let's go."
The trio hurried through the hotel's marble corridors, the distant chatter of tourists a hollow backdrop to their mission.
Ch'en's heart still ached, the memory of Howard's impaled body searing her thoughts.
We thought we lost you, she thought, glancing at the crow. I won't let that happen again.
Hoshiguma's stride was purposeful, her shield slung over her back, but her mind churned with the same fear.
You're alive, Howard, but what the hell did this to you?
They reached the suite, the door clicking shut behind them.
The room felt smaller now, the air thick with anticipation.
Howard's crow form hopped onto the desk, his eyes scanning the space where his body would soon be brought.
I need to get back inside, he thought, the unnatural separation of his soul gnawing at him.
As they waited for the police to deliver his body, Howard's three-eyed gaze met Ch'en and Hoshiguma's, a silent promise passing between them: they'd face this anomaly together, no matter how far it strayed from the world.
***
The door to Howard's suite slammed shut, the sound echoing in the cramped, dimly lit room.
Hoshiguma, her face etched with a mix of resolve and dread, set a heavy black body bag on the floor with a dull thud.
Her hands trembled slightly as she gripped the zipper, her mind racing.
That's him in there. Howard.
The memory of his warmth, his flustered surrender to their intensity just hours ago, clashed with the cold reality of the bag.
She glanced at Ch'en, then at the three-eyed crow perched on her arm—Howard's essence, trapped in an unnatural form.
Ch'en's eyes were fixed on the bag, her white t-shirt still streaked with beach stains, her expression a fragile mask over the grief threatening to spill over.
He's alive… but not like this. Her heart ached, replaying his crimson eyes, his quiet strength, and the way he'd fought to match them.
I let him go alone...
She swallowed hard, forcing her voice to stay steady. "Let's see it."
Howard, his crow form hopping from Ch'en's arm to the desk, nudged the zipper with his beak, pulling it down just enough to reveal the contents.
His own body lay inside, eerily still. The gaping wounds were gone, his head fully regenerated, but his skin was turning an unnatural grey, devoid of life.
No pulse, no warmth—just a hollow shell. It's really me, he muttered, his voice a strange, echoing rasp through the crow's beak.
The sight hit him like a punch. My body, but not me. Not anymore. His three eyes dimmed, his mind grappling with the violation of being torn from himself.
Ch'en's voice cut through, sharp and desperate.
"Howard, what's going on? You promised answers. What happened to you?"
Howard settled on the table, his feathers ruffling as he gathered his thoughts. Where do I even start?
The memory of the fourth floor burned in his mind—the faceless entity, the reality-shattering crack, the agony of his soul being ripped free.
"Last night, around midnight, I tracked the killer," he began, his voice steady despite the crow's eerie tone.
"I followed them using my unique arts to the fourth floor."
"When I arrived, what I discovered was it wasn't a person. It was… an entity.
"Something not Terran at all. It caught me, killed me—burst my head like it was nothing. I should've been gone, but I woke up as a soul, floating. There was a crow nearby, and when I… entered it, it mutated into this."
He gestured with a wing to his three-eyed form. I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask to be this.
Ch'en's eyes widened, her hands clenching.
"An entity? That's… insane. How do we even fight something like that? Can we figure out what we're dealing with?"
He's alive, but this is beyond anything we've faced, she thought, her mind racing. Lungmen's streets never prepared me for this.
Hoshiguma's jaw tightened, her grief simmering into focus.
A monster did this to him?
She wanted to smash something, anything, to make this right.
"Yeah, what's the plan, Howard? You're a bird, your body's a corpse, and we're up against some… thing. Give us a direction."
Howard's three eyes glinted, his mind sharp despite the chaos. I've been piecing it together, but I need help.
"Hoshiguma, grab my phone. Call Alexander. Now."
Hoshiguma raised an eyebrow but complied, fishing the phone from Howard's discarded shorts.
"Alexander? Who's that?" she asked, scrolling through the contacts.
"She's the one who can help us," Howard said, his tone firm.
By now, she should have the information I asked for.
"Put it on speaker."
Hoshiguma hit the call button, and after a few rings, a calm, measured voice answered.
"Hello, Howard , You're not using the usual protocol. This means you are in trouble."
Howard hopped closer to the phone, his crow form casting an eerie shadow.
"Alexander, it's me. I'm indeed in deep trouble."
Alexander's tone sharpened, a hint of amusement undercut by concern.
"I can tell. You're not exactly sounding… human. What's going on?"
"No time for the full story," Howard said, his voice urgent.
"Did you find anything on what I asked you to look into? The cases along with cults?"
Alexander paused, the sound of rustling papers audible through the speaker.
"I did. Based on the information you gave me—reality distortion, heart extractions, I assume both were female victims, and their origins were Leithanien—there is only one match in my archives."
"It is linked to an ancient cult that began and remained active for 65 years."
"They're devoted to reviving and studying a particular guy , a historical figure: Otto Dietmar Gustav von Urtica, better known as the Witch King."
Ch'en's breath caught. The Witch King? The name sent a chill through her, stirring vague memories of history's dark times.
"A cult? Why in Siesta of all places?"
Hoshiguma's eyes narrowed.
"Reviving some old tyrant? What's that got to do with this thing killing people?"
Howard's crow form stiffened, his mind racing.
The Witch King. He knew who it was; he was a key character for every Leithanian event. He was also the boss antagonist of Zwillingstürme im Herbst.
If he remembered correctly, the events took place in 1100 to commemorate the new century in Leithanien.
But why are they in Siesta of all places?It didn't make any sense yet.
"Alexander, what else? What's to know about the cult?"
Alexander's voice grew grave.
"From what I gathered, these are part of a branch of Echoes of Herkunftshorn."
"The cult's been experimenting with the past Witch king Originium-based rituals, trying to summon or create something to bring the Witch King back. They went through all the experiments and rituals he did."
"Among them, there was a note about a ritual related to sacrificing the hearts of females to acquire the "Symphony of the Damned." The entity you encountered—it's likely their creation or something they woke up."
Howard's three eyes burned with resolve. Lucky or not, I'm ending this.
"We've got my body. What's the next step?"
"Secure it somewhere safe," Alexander said.
"If your soul's detached, you'll need a ritual to reconnect it. I'll send you the details, but you need to move fast. That entity's not done, and it knows you're after it."
Ch'en gripped her sword, her voice steady despite the fear.
"We're not letting it take him again. Tell us what to do, Alexander."
Hoshiguma nodded, her shield at the ready.
"Yeah, we're not losing you, Howard. Bird or not, you're stuck with us."
Howard's crow form hopped closer to the phone, his thoughts sharp.
This cult, this entity—it's not just a case. It's a tear in the world I thought I knew.
"Get the ritual ready, Alexander. We're hunting this thing down, and I'm getting my body back."
As the call ended, the trio exchanged a glance, their shared resolve cutting through the room's oppressive air.
The Witch King's shadow loomed, but they'd face it together, no matter how far this world strayed from the one Howard once knew.