Arknights: The Life Inside-Chapter 35

Yoren's spirit felt as if it had been pulled into another realm.

He wasn't sure what he was seeing—perhaps something long forgotten, or just a dream slipping between his fingers. The images flickered like a dying flame, shifting without reason.

Then, stillness.

Yoren lay flat on the ground, the vast blue sky stretching endlessly above him. He stared at it, unmoving, as time unraveled. Seconds melted into eternity, and eternity reshaped the world before his eyes. Mountains crumbled into the sea. Deserts transformed into sprawling grasslands. He could feel the centuries pass, though to him, it was just a moment.

Why was he gazing at the sky? Was there something waiting beyond the deep blue expanse?

He couldn't move. He couldn't even feel his own existence. The weight of time pressed down on him, suffocating, endless.

Then, in a daze, he saw it. His own hand reaching out, as if emerging from the depths of the earth, straining toward the sky.

And from above, another hand descended to meet his.

They reached across time and space, shattering dimensions, defying the very fabric of reality. When their fingers finally clasped together, the world around him cracked apart. The sky dissolved. The earth split open. Light and darkness bled into each other, swallowing everything whole.

Theresis narrowed his eyes at Yoren's lifeless face, something unsettling stirring within him.

The air grew heavy, thick with an unseen force. It was like the stillness before a raging storm, a presence rising from Yoren's body—something impossible.

He's dead. He has to be dead...

Yet, as Theresis stared, his pupils shrank in disbelief. Fine black lines began etching themselves into Yoren's eyes. Dark, vein-like patterns spread from the corners, curling like ink bleeding into water.

What the hell is happening...?

Theresis had seen many things—monsters, men twisted beyond recognition—but this? This was beyond his understanding. Yoren had been infected, suffered fatal wounds, and had long since stopped breathing.

Then why did his body radiate such an overwhelming, suffocating force?

Theresis didn't want answers. He wanted Yoren gone. His instincts screamed at him to end it now and leave before something truly monstrous was born.

"Die!"

Theresis ripped the dagger from his belt and plunged it toward Yoren's throat.

The blade never met its mark.

In an instant, Yoren's left eye snapped back into focus. The abyssal black lines consumed his pupil, making it look utterly inhuman.

The dagger stopped, mere centimeters from flesh.

Yoren's hand shot up, grasping the blade with an iron grip. The razor-sharp edge bit deep into his palm, sinking into flesh, but his face remained eerily calm.

Then, with a sickening crunch—

The blade snapped in half.

Theresis recoiled, his breath catching in his throat.

Yoren ignored the blood seeping from his hand. Slowly, methodically, he pushed himself off the ground. Theresis, still straddling him, felt himself being lifted as though he weighed nothing.

Yoren's face was devoid of life. The black markings had spread, claiming half of his features. His right eye was hollow, a void of emptiness, but his left eye—

It gleamed with something sinister, a deep crimson light flickering within the darkness.

Theresis' heart pounded in his chest. He had faced death countless times, but this? This was something else entirely.

"Why? Why aren't you dead yet?!"

His voice trembled despite himself.

Yoren gave no answer.

With a sharp, wet sound, the skin around his left eye cracked open, splitting like porcelain. Blood poured freely, streaking down his face in thick rivulets. The sight was grotesque, nightmarish.

Theresis could take no more.

He let out a roar, swinging his fist with all his strength, aiming to crush Yoren's skull.

The impact landed.

Yoren's head jerked slightly to the side.

That was all.

He didn't stagger. He didn't fall. He didn't even flinch.

Theresis barely had time to process what happened before Yoren's own fist rocketed toward him.

A single punch.

Theresis' world blurred. His body shot through the air like a ragdoll, smashing into the far wall with bone-shattering force.

Yoren's empty eyes flickered.

Then, agony.

A raw, guttural scream tore from his throat as he collapsed to his knees. His left hand darkened unnaturally, the flesh splitting open as if something inside him was clawing its way out.

The pain was unlike anything he had ever known.

Blood soaked the floor beneath him.

Theresis, groaning as he pried himself from the wreckage, saw his chance. Yoren was vulnerable. Whatever was happening to him was tearing him apart from the inside.

Theresis didn't care what Yoren was becoming. He only cared about killing him before he had the chance.

With a burst of speed, he lunged, hand outstretched to snap Yoren's neck.

His fingers never closed around flesh.

A hand caught his wrist mid-air—Yoren's hand. The grip was like iron, crushing, unrelenting.

Before Theresis could react, Yoren twisted, slamming him to the ground with brutal force.

Blood dripped from Yoren's chin onto Theresis' face.

The pain was unbearable, but the rage burning inside him was even greater. He clenched his teeth, trembling with fury.

Yoren raised his fist, black mist swirling around his arm like living shadows.

Then he struck.

The entire floor cracked and crumbled beneath them as his punch connected. The impact sent both of them plummeting through the shattered remains of the 14th floor, crashing into the level below.

Theresis' face was a ruin of blood and shattered bone.

Yoren stood amidst the rubble, panting heavily, his body trembling not from exhaustion, but from something far worse. The hatred in his eyes consumed everything else.

A new presence loomed behind him.

Massive. Unstoppable.

At some point, Big Bob had arrived.

Like an iron-clad mountain, the brute lunged for Yoren's throat.

Yoren didn't turn.

He simply caught the outstretched hand mid-air.

A sharp burst of pain flared through his arm. The strange wound deepened, black mist seeping from within.

Then, with terrifying ease, he lifted the giant into the air—

And threw him.

Big Bob's body crashed into the far wall with a deafening impact.

Yoren appeared before him in an instant, his fist driving into steel-plated armor, denting it inward. The force sent shockwaves through the structure, shattering stone and metal alike.

Both men fell to the ground.

But only one rose.

Yoren's mind was blank. The agony in his left eye had stolen all sense of reality. He clutched at it, the blood now dark as ink.

Then, something changed.

A cold light bloomed in his right eye, spreading a chilling sensation across his body. The searing pain dulled, the wounds on his arm knitting themselves shut.

But just as quickly as it healed—

New wounds tore open.

The light faded.

The pain returned tenfold.

Yoren's scream echoed through the night, raw and unrelenting, drowning out the world itself.

In a very short time, Theresis and Big Bob were knocked to the ground by Yoren. However, Yoren himself looked worse than both of them.

Though he had not suffered any direct attacks, fresh wounds kept bursting open across his left arm, turning it into a bloody mess.

Yoren knelt on the ground, gasping in pain. He had instinctively fought back against Theresis and Big Bob, yet his own injuries were far worse than theirs. He couldn't understand why. The more excruciating the pain, the sharper his senses became. The agony gnawed at the edges of his mind, threatening to break him.

It felt like something out of a nightmare—like being tormented by an unseen specter, an entity that dismembered him piece by piece through unseen means. Or perhaps the ghost had already taken hold of him, driving his body to destroy itself.

Strangely, all the pain was concentrated on the left side of his body. No matter how severe the suffering, his right side remained untouched.

The black veins in his left eye, which had briefly faded, surged back, and an even denser black mist seeped from his wounds. It flickered and coiled like a dark flame, making him look like a Ghost Rider burning on empty fuel.

Theresis staggered to his feet, his bloodied face twisted in fury. He trembled where he stood, glaring through the cracks of his fingers.

The situation had spiraled beyond his expectations. He never anticipated Yoren to be writhing in agony, yet still capable of reacting fast enough to counter his grip.

He tilted his head back, feeling the deep indentation Yoren's punch had left on his skull.

The sheer force of it rivaled that of the King of Propulsion.

Theresis knew now—something had changed in Yoren.

His mind raced back to that night in the streets. He had stabbed Yoren, without a doubt. He had felt the dagger sink into flesh. But the next second—Yoren had vanished into thin air.

Back then, Theresis assumed someone had used some strange magic to save him. But now, watching Yoren transform before his eyes, he realized that wasn't the case at all.

This wasn't magic.

It was something else.

Yoren didn't possess any clear traits of a specific race. No being, no matter how gifted, could suddenly wield such power after contracting the Originium disease. And yet, Yoren's abilities weren't like any known Originium Arts.

Theresis narrowed his eyes.

This guy isn't normal.

His face throbbed from the impact of Yoren's punch, but his body still moved. He had already sent word to Big Bob and the others to regroup in this building. As long as they stopped underestimating him and acted with caution, they still had a chance to kill Yoren, who was now wounded and faltering.

Bang!

Big Bob shoved away the rubble pinning him down. His towering three-meter-tall frame rose again.

"Buzz, buzz, buzz."

He yanked the cord of his giant chainsaw, revving it to life. With slow, deliberate steps, he advanced toward the kneeling Yoren.

Yoren, drenched in blood, gritted his teeth as the relentless pain kept his mind on edge. A normal person would have passed out from sheer agony by now. The brain, as a defense mechanism, would shut down under such sustained torture.

But for some reason, Yoren's awareness remained disturbingly sharp—so much so that it made him nauseous.

He didn't need to look up to sense Big Bob's hulking form approaching.

It was an instinct—a primal awareness of impending danger. His left arm twitched violently, as if something monstrous was lurking within it, itching to shred apart whatever dared to get too close.

From Big Bob's perspective, Yoren was a broken man, kneeling defenselessly with his back exposed. A perfect target.

Big Bob halted five meters away, glancing at Theresis, who met his gaze and gave a small nod.

The air thickened.

Tick-tock. Tick-tock.

Yoren's blood dripped steadily onto the ground.

Big Bob gripped his chainsaw with both hands. Theresis slid a fresh dagger from his coat. The two of them, for the first time, regarded their prey with true caution.

Whoosh!

A cold gleam flashed. Theresis flung his dagger toward Yoren, lunging at the same time.

Big Bob moved as well.

His heavy steps thundered forward as he raised the chainsaw high, ready to cleave Yoren's head from his shoulders.

Yoren's left hand trembled violently. He lifted his head, his left eye burning with that eerie black flame. The intricate markings around it pulsed, growing sharper, darker.

"Ahhh!"

With a furious roar, he swung his hand up. The dagger hurtling toward him embedded itself straight through his palm, lodging deep in his flesh.

At the same moment, Big Bob's chainsaw came crashing down from behind.

Ignoring the agony, Yoren rolled across the ground, narrowly dodging the brutal strike. He landed on his back, twisted his body, and with a sharp kick, struck Big Bob's knee.

The giant lurched, half-kneeling from the impact. Yoren sprang up, yanking the dagger from his palm, and drove it toward Big Bob's head.

Bang!

The blade buried itself into the heavy helmet. Whether it reached flesh was uncertain.

A flicker of movement from behind—

Yoren spun.

Theresis was already upon him.

Shnk!

Yoren felt the dagger pierce deep into his chest.

At the same time, his fist connected with Theresis' face.

Theresis flew backward, crashing through a wall. But the damage was done. The dagger had found its mark.

Yoren's heart spasmed violently. Blood gushed from his lips.

Bang!

Big Bob's iron fist slammed into Yoren's skull. The impact rattled through his entire being. Big Bob, despite the attack, remained standing strong.

Read lat𝙚st chapters at fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓ Only.

The black flame in Yoren's left eye erupted.

With blood dripping from his mouth, he let out a primal roar and lashed out with a savage kick—sending Big Bob's massive body flying more than ten meters away.

Yoren stood, chest heaving, struggling for breath. Each rise and fall of his ribs drained him further. His body was failing. His vision blurred. There was no doubt about it—Theresis' dagger had punctured his heart.

This was a fatal wound.

He collapsed to his knees once more. Cold seeped into his bones. His lips paled. His mind, once razor-sharp, began to drift.

Memories flickered—

Vina, cooking noodles. Snowsant, sipping milk. Ace, giving a thumbs-up. And the world he had once called home.

So this is how it ends.

His limbs stiffened. His sight darkened.

He knew he was about to die.

Then—

A soft, milky-white glow pulsed from his right eye.

The light grew stronger, consuming his vision, until the world turned white.

Shing!

A familiar hum echoed from within his chest.

In his daze, he glimpsed a slender figure, wings spread wide, standing opposite him.

Then, in a single fluid motion, the figure raised its sword and swung.

A blade that could cleave through heaven and earth.

A blade that could sever all pain, dividing light from darkness.

The vision vanished.

Yoren gasped, a strange sensation coursing through his body.

Clang!

The dagger lodged in his chest fell to the ground.