Arknights - Echoes Of The Unfound Dawn

Editor: Hello everyone!!! I'm the Editor of this fanfic you can call me in my code name "Ed"✨. You're all' wondering why Author(TimA) is not the one giving you an entry, well ill tell you. He'll be back soon because his Grandmother just died after the second half week of January.

I hope he'll be ok since I've notice some changes but I'll support him here and RL, and TimA if your reading this always remember that your not alone ok!😁. Anyways let's move-on and Reader!, Enjoy the chapter ❤️✨.

_________________________________________

The night air was filled with a chilling wind as Crownslayer soared through the sky, her grip firm on Mephisto, her fingers pressing into his sides. He winced, his discomfort evident. "Could you be a bit gentler? You're crushing me here!" His voice was tinged with a mixture of irritation and genuine pain, but Crownslayer didn't even spare him a glance.

She simply shot back, her voice biting, "Oh, spare me the theatrics. You were reckless enough to attack the auction house. This is the least you deserve."

Mephisto's eyes narrowed, but there was a subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "I had business there," he muttered, but there was an edge to his words-a cryptic tone, one that suggested there was far more to his actions than what he let on. His gaze drifted away, his thoughts trailing back to the chaotic confrontation in the VIP room. The scene was still fresh in his mind, the shattered stone, the masked figure who had aided Swire.

"Business?" Crownslayer scoffed, her tone dripping with disbelief. "You can't be serious. You walk into an auction, start a fight, and call it 'business'? What exactly were you thinking?"

Mephisto didn't respond immediately. His mind was already elsewhere, thinking about the aftermath of the battle-the way the stone had shattered in the heat of the conflict. That stone... it could've been something special. A waste, really. His fingers twitched involuntarily as if he could still feel the pulse of its power, but he quickly buried the thought.

As if sensing his distraction, Crownslayer landed with practiced precision, her boots making a barely audible sound on the ground as she scanned the surroundings. "We're here. Keep your wits about you," she said, her eyes darting around, ever-watchful for any signs of danger.

Mephisto, still a little shaken from his thoughts, grumbled under his breath. "The stone… destroyed in that damn battle. Such a waste. It was the key to everything." He kicked a loose stone across the ground, his mind still racing. That mask... that figure who helped Swire...

His thoughts went back to the masked man-black lines tracing across the pale surface, a crystal embedded at the center. It had been so strange, so alien. Who was he? Why was he there? Mephisto's brow furrowed as he tried to piece together the mystery. But even as his mind spun, he hadn't yet realized the most shocking truth: the mask was worn by none other than Xian. A fact he would soon learn in the most inconvenient way possible.

Crownslayer's voice pulled him back to the present, harsh and impatient. "You still haven't answered me. Why attack the auction house?"

Mephisto's smile widened, an almost wicked gleam in his eyes. He turned to her, his gaze sharp. "I found something," he said simply, but there was a sense of excitement in his voice, a hint of something more than just a casual discovery. "Something that could change everything."

Crownslayer raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "Something? Don't leave me hanging, Mephisto. What's this about?"

Mephisto's grin only grew. "That stone, Crownslayer. You wouldn't understand it now, but it's a power source like no other. It can amplify the control over Originium Arts, expanding it beyond what you've ever seen. It's the key to unlocking untapped potential."

Crownslayer crossed her arms, her expression unreadable, but the suspicion in her eyes was unmistakable. "You've always had power at your fingertips. Why this stone? What's so special about it? And don't give me that vague explanation-you know I won't buy it."

Mephisto chuckled darkly, his fingers brushing the shard of stone in his pocket, the only piece he had salvaged from the wreckage. "You're too sharp for your own good, you know that?" His eyes gleamed with a touch of pride. "But you're right. There's more to it. This stone doesn't just amplify power, it's more than that. It could be the catalyst for something bigger. Something more dangerous."

Crownslayer's gaze narrowed, her mistrust growing. "More dangerous than what you're already playing at? Mephisto, you're always scheming. What's your game this time?"

He grinned, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I'm not just looking for power, Crownslayer. I'm looking for control. And this stone, this power, it could give me the edge I need. To control not just Originium Arts, but... something greater. Something we've all been trying to achieve for so long."

Crownslayer didn't respond immediately, her thoughts racing. She had a deep, unsettling sense that Mephisto wasn't telling her the whole story. But she couldn't afford to waste time doubting him, not when the orders had come from Tallulah herself.

With a small, almost imperceptible sigh, she followed as Mephisto started walking deeper into the alley, hidden from the watchful eyes of the world outside. Her footsteps were deliberate, but she made no attempt to hide her displeasure.

I hate this.

She couldn't stand Mephisto, couldn't stand the way he toyed with people's lives, and yet here she was, forced to follow him because of some grand, mysterious plan that Tallulah had set in motion.

Mephisto, oblivious to her inner turmoil, pulled out a small shard of the stone, holding it up for her to see. His smile turned a bit more malicious as he examined it, his voice almost reverent. "See this? This is just a small piece, but with my expertise... I can make more. Experiment with it, push its limits. Who knows what I could create?" He turned the shard in his hand, the dim light catching the edges of the crystal. "I could make something far more powerful than anything we've seen."

Crownslayer didn't respond, but the disdain in her eyes was clear. I'll follow you for now, Mephisto, she thought, but I'm not stupid. I'm watching you every step of the way.

The two of them moved further into the alley, shrouded in darkness. The silence between them was thick, pregnant with tension, but neither spoke of the unease lingering in the air. Mephisto's mind was already racing with plans, while Crownslayer followed, her thoughts filled with doubts she could never voice aloud. Don't expect me to save you next time, she wanted to say, but she kept her mouth shut. There was too much at stake.

Arknights: Echoes of the Unfound Dawn

Faraway, In one of a towering skyscraper in Lungmen, the sharp scent of expensive cigars lingered in the air as two men stood face to face. The tension in the room was palpable, thick enough to cut through the haze of smoke that curled around them. One of the men, his face flushed with anger, couldn't contain his frustration any longer.

"How could you let this happen?!" he shouted, his voice rising in a mixture of fury and disbelief. "The envoy is dead, the item's gone, and now it's in the hands of some other damn organization! This was your job, and you failed miserably!" His eyes were wild, and his fists clenched at his sides. "The incompetence of your group is unbelievable!" He glared across the table at the other man, his rage bubbling over.

The other man, calm and composed, didn't flinch. He sat back in his chair, leisurely puffing on his cigarette, his expression unreadable. The leader of the hired group simply exhaled a plume of smoke, his gaze steady as it met his client's furious stare.

"Take a breath," he said coolly, his voice like ice. "Getting worked up like this won't change anything."

The client continued to rant, too consumed by his fury to listen. "You don't understand, that item was worth everything! Do you know how much power it would have given me? How much I could've gained from it? And now it's gone!" His hands slapped the table in frustration, his face a mask of rage.

The leader, unbothered, leaned back further, exhaling another smoke ring into the air, before speaking in a low, measured tone. "I understand. I understand perfectly. But yelling about it won't solve the problem. Calm down."

The client growled under his breath, his face reddening. "I need that item back, do you hear me?" he spat. "And I need it now! I'm not paying you to sit around and make excuses!"

The leader remained quiet for a moment, his fingers tapping against the table in a slow, deliberate rhythm. Then, with a small, knowing smile, he spoke again, his tone even more detached. "The item is safe. It's already in the right hands."

The client froze, his anger temporarily replaced with confusion. "What do you mean 'safe'? How can you be sure? It's not with you or me. It's already in the hands of someone else!" His voice wavered, suspicion creeping into his words.

The leader's smile remained as he began to explain, his calm demeanor never faltering. "I made sure no one knew the true value of the item. It's already been passed on to the right people, away from prying eyes. They'll hold onto it until you're ready to claim it. And once you do, you'll be able to enter the circle-no questions asked."

The client's eyes widened as the implications sank in. "The circle? You're telling me that with that item, I'll be able to join the circle? The real circle?" His voice was filled with disbelief and excitement, his earlier anger replaced with a giddy energy.

"Exactly," the leader said, his voice smooth like honey. "It's the key. You'll be in, just like you always dreamed."

The client, now practically bouncing in his chair, couldn't contain his excitement. He leaned forward, his eyes shining. "Where is it? I need it. Right now. I want it in my hands!"

The leader's smile deepened as he calmly picked up his phone, dialing a number with slow precision. "It's on its way," he said, speaking into the phone in a voice laced with authority. "Bring the item."

The client stood up, his eyes wild with joy. "This is it! This is my moment! I can't wait to crush Wei Yenwu and take my place at the top!" He grinned maniacally, his laughter echoing off the walls as he turned in circles, lost in his triumph.

The door opened, and a man stepped in, a suitcase in his hands. He approached the table and placed it down carefully in front of both men. The client leaned forward, practically trembling with anticipation.

The suitcase clicked open, revealing a glowing red stone, its surface smooth and crystalline, resembling an Originium crystal but with an unusual texture. The client gasped, his face alight with joy. He stood up in a rush, his hands trembling as he reached toward the stone, his voice breaking as he spoke.

"Finally! I have it! I'm going to make my move now!" He practically skipped forward, eager to claim his prize.

But just as his fingers brushed the crystal, the leader's hand shot out, closing the suitcase with a swift motion, blocking the client's access to the stone. The room grew still, the air thick with tension once again.

The client, stunned, looked up at the leader in confusion and frustration. "What's the meaning of this? I've been patient enough!"

The leader's expression remained unchanged as he glanced up at the client, his voice smooth and unyielding. "Payment first," he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

The client froze, his face falling. He quickly fumbled for his phone, muttering curses under his breath. "Fine, fine! You'll get your money. But this better be worth it."

With a few quick taps, he transferred the 3.6 billion to the leader's account, his fingers trembling with irritation. The leader looked at the phone's screen, confirming the transfer, then nodded, his smile never fading. "Thank you," he said, standing up from his chair as the client eagerly turned back to the suitcase.

The client's face split into a wide grin as he finally got his hands on the red stone. He caressed it as though it were a long-lost treasure, his voice barely above a whisper. "This is it… the power I've been waiting for…"

As the client walked to the door, his excitement spilling over, the leader's voice rang out one final time. "Welcome to the circle."

The client paused, turning just in time to hear the leader's words. His grin widened, but as he reached the door, something caught his eye. One of the leader's men, still standing at the back of the room, looked at him with cold, calculating eyes. The client's smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly dismissed it. "What's this?" he said, irritation creeping back into his voice. "Why are you still here? What's are you looking a-?"

Before he could react, the man stepped forward, a swift punch landing square in his gut. The client staggered, caught off guard, but the blows kept coming-one after another, each punch harder than the last. He crumpled to the ground, gasping for air, but the punches didn't stop. He begged, weak and pitiful, but still, they came.

The man grabbed the client by the arm, forcing him to his knees, and shoved the crystal into his stomach with brutal force. The client screamed, the agony tearing through him, but it didn't stop. The man was relentless.

Outside the door, the leader adjusted his glasses with a satisfied smile, his hands calmly slipping into his pockets. The sound of the client's desperate cries echoed down the hallway, but the leader only chuckled softly, walking away with purpose. "Just another step of your plan is successful, princess." he muttered to himself, already thinking of the next move.