Arknights: The Life Inside-Chapter 67

That's right...Yoren woke up.

The inferno had consumed him, but he was not reborn from the flames.

Instead, nineteen days after his body was reduced to charcoal, he awoke in the sterile white walls of Base No. 3's medical ward.

A burst of white light erupted from his right eye, repairing the necrotic tissue across his entire body in an instant. The agony that had once wracked his frame vanished like a bad dream.

On this day, June 24, the second cycle of the Black and White Twins had completed.

Though Yoren felt no discomfort, Snowsant still helped him back into bed, her small hands trembling slightly as she steadied him.

Lying down, Yoren began to think.

Not only had he regained consciousness, but his body had been restored completely—as if he had been painstakingly rebuilt, piece by piece. His skin, smooth and flawless, had the softness of porcelain, unnerving in its perfection. It was almost inhuman. Unfortunately, his hair had not been as fortunate—gone again, leaving his head bare.

The news of his awakening spread like wildfire throughout Base No. 3.

"Bang!"

The door burst open.

Aside from Dr. Gran, who had been overseeing his condition, nearly every medical expert in the base had crammed into the small ward, eager to witness the so-called miracle.

Among them, a young nurse from the Film Tribe shot Yoren a cheeky wink from the crowd, while others whispered in hushed, excited tones.

Dr. Gran wasted no time, performing a routine check-up. After a quick assessment, he stepped back and declared, "I believe this is a medical miracle in Terra's history."

Thunderous applause erupted.

Yoren could only lay there in silent despair as the gauze was removed layer by layer. The air kissed his newly healed skin, and all eyes were on him, wide with fascination.

If he wasn't already miserable, this sealed the deal.

Even as a man, he felt like an exhibit on display.

Thankfully, the doctor had the foresight to preserve his dignity, draping a blanket over his lower body as he worked. That, however, didn't stop the young nurses from sighing in disappointment.

Another round of applause rippled through the room once the last bandage was peeled away.

Then, curiosity took over. The dam broke, and everyone surged forward, pressing in, their questions flying at him from every direction.

"Mr. 020, do you feel anything unusual?"

A middle-aged doctor with a Mediterranean hairstyle peered at him with a gleam of excitement.

Yoren sighed. "No, nothing special. Just hungry. Do you provide meals?"

Another doctor, a bespectacled woman, elbowed past the first. She leaned in close, her voice dropping to an eager whisper.

"Mr. Yoren, during your coma, did you experience any visions? Perhaps... the afterlife?"

Yoren raised an eyebrow. "You researchers actually believe in that stuff?"

"I... I was just curious."

And then, chaos.

"Mr. Patient, are you happy?"

"My name is Yoren."

"Mr. Yoren, what brand of skincare do you use? Your complexion is amazing!"

"Just soap."

"Mr. Soap, do you have a girlfriend?"

The questions grew more absurd by the second, spiraling out of control. Yoren was trapped, overwhelmed, pressed back against his pillows like a rabbit cornered by hungry wolves.

This was hell.

Then—a flash.

The sharp snap of a camera shutter.

Yoren whirled around, locking eyes with a nurse holding up a device. His voice cracked with frustration. "Hey! Who said you could take pictures?!"

Before he could protest further, a rough, wrinkled hand reached toward him.

"Can I touch you?"

"Get lost! Stay away from me!"

That was the breaking point.

Yoren had had enough. He ripped the blanket off his body, sprang onto the bed, and, bald head gleaming under the harsh hospital lights, roared,

"HAVE YOU EVER SEEN SOMEONE RISE FROM THE ASHES?! GET OUT! GET OUT!"

The room fell into stunned silence.

Snowsant peeked out from under the bed, her voice small. "Big Windmill just woke up... Could you please not disturb him? I-I don't know the rules here, but if you want to examine him... can you at least take turns?"

Her soft plea broke the trance.

Slowly, the crowd dispersed. Not because they were convinced, but because Yoren, standing naked and furious on the bed, was a sight they would rather not sear into their memories.

As the last of them shuffled out, Yoren exhaled in relief.

But then he saw her.

Standing at the doorway, glasses reflecting the sterile lights, was Hemer.

At some point, she had arrived, silently watching the entire spectacle unfold.

She regarded him with a perfectly neutral expression and adjusted her glasses.

"I didn't expect you to be this energetic right after waking up."

Yoren felt the blood rush to his face. He dove back under the blanket, mortified.

Hemer, unfazed, stepped inside and performed a more thorough check on his condition before finally sitting at his bedside.

"Your survival didn't come as a complete surprise to me," she admitted. "I had a theory."

Yoren sat up slightly, intrigued despite himself.

"From the moment I first met you, I've been studying the power inside you. I'm likely the only one who understands its patterns." She pushed up her glasses, her voice measured. "Based on the data, at the end of every cycle—every thirty days—the white energy in your body activates, neutralizing the black energy and healing all damage."

Yoren swallowed. "So... this happens every month?"

"Yes. But here's what's interesting. The second cycle showed a noticeable difference: the black energy was more stable, less aggressive. Meaning, with every cycle, your body is adapting." She met his gaze. "As long as you survive until the end of each cycle, you'll be fully restored. No matter how severe the injuries."

Yoren felt a strange mix of relief and dread.

"But if I die before the cycle ends..."

Hemer nodded. "Then there's no coming back."

A heavy silence settled between them.

Then, Hemer reached into her coat and retrieved something small. She placed it in his hand—his bracelet.

"You can have it back now."

"Oh... thanks."

Yoren slipped it on. Numbers and statistics flickered across the screen:

[Somatic cell and Originium fusion rate: 12%]

[Blood Origin Stone Crystal Density: 0.48u/L]

[Individual Strength: 87]

[Critical Cycle: 3]

[Countdown to Next Cycle: 29 days]

He had already reached the third cycle.

That meant he had been unconscious for nineteen days since the Flame Demon Project spiraled out of control.

But he was still alive.

After taking a deep breath, he turned to Hemer.

"How's Ifrit?"

For the first time that day, Hemer smiled.

"Compared to you? She's doing much better."

In the ward, Hemer told Yoren about Ifrit's condition.

Ifrit was the 19th experimental subject of the Fire Demon Project. The previous 18 subjects, each from different races, had all perished.

In the initial trials, whenever the Fire Demon Stone was introduced into a subject's body, the result was instant immolation. The subject would burn to ashes in moments, leaving behind only the stone. This happened to every race, without exception.

However, there was one race where the burning process was briefly delayed: the Sarkaz.

With this discovery, Rhine Life saw a path forward. Once they had gathered enough theoretical data, they initiated the Fire Demon experiment on the 19th subject—Ifrit, a Sarkaz.

Using biotechnology, they altered Ifrit's DNA, hoping to artificially create a new race that could adapt to the Fire Demon Stone. But as the experiment progressed, her body suffered. Her muscles atrophied. The horns on her head degenerated into a crystallized structure. Meanwhile, her oripathy worsened. The density of Originium crystals in her blood reached 0.51u/L, and the fusion rate of her somatic cells with Originium climbed to a staggering 19%.

Yet, despite all of this, the numbers were still against her. The likelihood of successful fusion between her DNA and the Fire Demon Stone remained dangerously low. If it failed, she would be reduced to ashes like those before her.

The Fire Demon Project had hit a wall.

Then, everything changed the day Hemer brought Yoren back from Ursus.

A DNA test on Yoren revealed the missing key. Rhine Life's calculations were correct—Ifrit could survive the fusion, but only if her DNA was fine-tuned to more closely resemble Yoren's. With this revelation, the scientists threw themselves into their work, making precise adjustments, waiting for the perfect moment.

Days passed.

Then, when Yoren finally broke through his critical limit for the first time, Rhine Life found what they were looking for. The moment his power surged, they observed the exact change they needed to replicate. With renewed confidence, they proceeded with the experiment, certain of their success.

But reality had other plans.

Though Ifrit survived, the Fire Demon Project did not unfold as expected.

Lying in his hospital bed, Yoren sighed.

"So the Fire Demon Project failed after all."

"No."

"Huh?"

Surprised, Yoren looked up at Hemer, who wore a solemn expression.

"What do you mean?"

Hemer's voice was firm. "To outsiders, it might seem like an experimental accident. But I know the truth. The Fire Demon Project did not fail. Ifrit survived. And the Fire Demon Stone... it's gone. There's no doubt—it fused with her."

Yoren's eyes widened in disbelief.

Success?

The ancient stone that had never bonded with any existing race in Terra had fused with Ifrit?

Seeing his shock, Hemer continued. "The experiment worked. Ifrit has unleashed power comparable to divine fire. Experimental Base No. 4—one of our most fortified structures—was reduced to ash in an instant."

"But..." Hemer's gaze darkened. "Not in the way Rhine Life wanted. The higher-ups aimed to create a controllable humanoid weapon. Instead, what they got is a force they cannot command."

Yoren frowned. "What do you mean?"

"For some reason, Ifrit cannot control the power of the Fire Demon. Even now, she can't sense it. The power is inside her, but she has no control over it."

Yoren processed this.

The Fire Demon's power was nothing like that of the Black and White Twins. Even during the fusion in Mandel City, Yoren had been able to manipulate his power freely. Whether it was fending off Dark Crow and Big Bob or his final battle with Red Knife, he had wielded his abilities with complete awareness.

Even later, when Rhine Life experimented on him, dulling his nerves and using drugs to provoke his emotions, he could still command that power.

The only explanation?

Ifrit was not a pure human.

Even with genetic modifications, she wasn't exactly like him. Subtle but crucial differences remained. The Fire Demon Stone recognized her as a viable host—but her mind lacked the ability to command it.

It was like a gorilla disguised as a human entering a city. It had managed to fool the guards and was allowed inside, but it had no idea how to function in this new world. It couldn't shop, eat at a restaurant, or integrate properly—it could only wander, searching for a way to fit in without being cast out.

Hemer continued, "Worried that Ifrit's power could be triggered by emotions—like yours once was—the higher-ups chose not to restrict her freedom. Instead, they assigned me to supervise her while preparing for future experiments. But I know the truth. Ifrit's power isn't bound by emotions. To keep her safe, I never reported this detail."

Yoren nodded, understanding.

Rhine Life was celebrating their so-called success, but in reality, they were terrified. They wanted Ifrit to gain precise control over the Fire Demon's power—to wield it at will. But until then, they couldn't risk provoking her. They treated her delicately, like a volatile child.

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At the same time, Yoren realized something else.

Because of his presence, history had changed.

Three years from now, in Rhodes Island's records, Kal'tsit had never discovered Ifrit had truly fused with the Fire Demon's power. Something was different. The course of history had deviated once again.

After learning about Ifrit's condition, Yoren felt a wave of relief.

Then, he noticed Hemer acting strangely, avoiding his gaze.

"Hemer? What's wrong? Just say it."

Hemer clenched his fists, gripping the bedsheet tightly. His voice trembled.

"Yoren... Thank you for saving Ifrit again. I... I don't even know how to thank you anymore. That day, I was terrified. I thought Ifrit was gone forever. I thought I'd never see her again. I..." His voice broke, and tears welled up in his golden eyes. "I was so scared."

Yoren wasn't surprised. It wasn't the first time he had seen Dr. Hemer—normally so logical and composed—show his vulnerable side. To the world, Hemer was a serious, methodical scientist. But in truth, he carried immense guilt and pressure.

Yoren understood.

Part of the reason he had risked his life to save Ifrit was that he couldn't bear to see Hemer suffer. But deep down, it wasn't just for Hemer—it was for himself, too. Like Hemer, he couldn't stand the thought of Ifrit being consumed by fire.

He smiled and spoke softly. "Hemer, you don't have to thank me. You might not believe this, but in another world parallel to Terra, you and the others helped me through countless hardships. This time, it was my turn to protect you."

Hemer wiped his tears and placed a hand on Yoren's forehead. "You must still have a fever. You're talking nonsense."

The door suddenly burst open with a loud bang.

Ifrit swaggered in, carrying a bag of fruit. "Hey, Yo-Yo! You finally woke up!"

Yoren's expression darkened. "You're the yo-yo! I ended up like this saving your ass!"

Ifrit grinned and tossed a giant apple at his face. "Here, have an apple."

The unwashed, unpeeled fruit smacked against his teeth. Yoren snatched it away, fuming. "You brought a patient an apple without peeling it? Or washing it?!"

"Oh, you're so high maintenance."

Yoren groaned. Despite everything, he couldn't help but smile.