Arknights: I became an NPC in the online game

In extreme environments—especially in this desolate, frozen land—Terrans are often more dangerous than wild beasts.

Beasts only seek to eat. Terran motives? They're impossible to predict.

Carnelian's hand rested on the hilt of her Sword Arts Unit. Felix stood calmly in front of Avdotya, shielding her without a word. She was just a high school girl—fragile, unarmed. Carnelian had saved her once already. It was their job to keep her safe.

"Ah, a fire. That's nice—feels warm just being near it."

"Hey! Can't you read the mood? Don't we sound like the villains here?"

"…Fine."

Before Felix or Carnelian could speak, the approaching group was already talking amongst themselves. Their tone wasn't tense or guarded like strangers meeting in the wild—it was casual, familiar. Clearly, they were companions who'd been through a lot together.

Their uniforms matched. Not perfectly—each coat had minor differences, signs of wear and tear, mending patches, older layers showing through beneath—but the general cut and function were the same.

Infected NPCs from a settlement? Maybe. But Felix had his doubts.

He eyed the weapons slung across their backs and strapped to their sides. From a craftsman's perspective, these weren't the makeshift tools of ordinary infected survivors. Their gear was refined—solid quality. A cut above anything he'd seen in other settlements.

"Which settlement are you from?" he asked, his hand still resting on his pistol, voice steady.

"Ooh, a Sankta out here in the cold. You're even better-looking up close… Might be my type," one of the women chimed in playfully.

"Petrova! Shut it. The captain hasn't even said a word yet."

"No way we're starting a fight. We're not the bad guys here."

Before things escalated, the woman at the front—clearly their leader—spoke up. "Put down your weapons. We'll rest here for the night."

At her command, the group unstrapped their gear and lowered their hoods. Some grinned as they moved closer to the fire, settling in with practiced ease.

"My codename is Frostnova. This is my squad," the leader said, her gaze fixed on Felix. She nodded respectfully. "We just want to warm up. It's nearly impossible to start a fire out in this snow."

Her voice was calm, her explanation direct. But something about her tone—cool, distant—gave Felix pause. It wasn't just the weather. She carried the cold in her voice, like someone molded by the relentless blizzards of northern Ursus.

Still, he didn't protest. The moment they'd disarmed, the tension had dropped significantly.

Frostnova said no more. She returned to her team without another word and sat quietly, pulling dry rations from a small bag. The food was hard as stone—frozen solid by the bitter wind.

She didn't complain. She just ate.

Several members of the team began setting up tents, while others quietly ate their dry rations. No one complained. Their movements were methodical, practiced—this kind of life was routine for them.

Avdotya returned to Felix's side. Her gaze lingered on the people in matching coats, but seeing that neither Felix nor Carnelian looked tense, she gradually relaxed.

The second pot of broth was soon ready. The aroma of simmering meat drifted from the small holes in the lid, carried by the wind through the forest.

Frostnova's squad noticed immediately. The moment the scent hit the air, stomachs began to growl audibly. It wasn't that they never ate meat—back at camp, they did. But on missions like this, they only packed dry food. Hunting and cooking in the woods was a luxury they rarely had time for.

Since there was broth to spare, Felix filled a few more cups and walked toward the resting squad.

Frostnova caught the scent and looked up. Her eyes remained cold and unreadable, like ancient ice that refused to melt.

As he drew near, Felix felt a sudden chill—sharp, biting cold radiating from her body. Even with his coat's anti-freeze buffs, the air around her seemed to cut straight through. An Originium Arts? he wondered. Probably. That intense chill was too unnatural to be mere weather.

Given that they were a small strike team operating deep in the north, Felix was confident in his assessment: they were infected, and she—clearly their leader—possessed an Originium Arts, likely one related to ice.

"…I won't need that. Thank you," Frostnova said, turning down the offer without hesitation. "Give it to someone else."

But her squad didn't wait to be asked twice. Several of them came over with smiles, nodding and thanking Felix profusely as they took the cups. One sip of the hot broth and their expressions softened. In this frozen forest, a warm drink was a rare gift.

The mood shifted subtly. Tension had already eased since they arrived, but this small act helped break down the last barrier. Suspicion was replaced with something closer to camaraderie.

Felix's skill with words wasn't just learned—it was sharpened by years of business dealings in his previous life. He knew how to speak, when to act, and what small gestures could shift people's impressions.

The first impression, though—that depended on charm.

And Felix had plenty. With his charm stat sitting at 40, and his angelic appearance, he was the very image of calm in the storm. Even strangers instinctively felt a sense of safety around him.

That's why this armed squad, despite everything, didn't hesitate to take what he offered.

"I haven't asked your name," Frostnova said at last.

"Codename: Pioneer."

Across the fire, they locked eyes.

"It seems this is your first time in northern Ursus," she said.

"That's right," Felix replied. "I've seen many infected settlements before—but few as well-equipped as yours."

He knew who she was.

From the moment she said her name, memories had returned—clear, unshakable.

Lungmen, in his past life.

Snow falling endlessly.

A final stand of the Yetis.

And her—alone at the front.

Felix had seen it all before. He remembered her ending—the final stand, her fall, and the warmth she felt at the end. It had been a perfect curtain call.

Even if they were portrayed as villains, even if they bore the mark of the Reunion Movement, their dreams were still worthy of respect—worthy of being followed by the infected.

"Don't come too far north, traveler. This isn't a place for you," Frostnova said calmly. She pulled out a candy from her pocket and popped it into her mouth. "Ursus doesn't welcome outsiders."

"Thanks for the warning. I'm just a messenger, a merchant, and a craftsman," Felix replied evenly. "I came to Ursus for work."

"Craftsmen? That's rare," Frostnova responded. "Out here in the frozen plains, any profession that can survive is a rare one."

"I can maintain your equipment."

Felix didn't hesitate—he went straight to the point. "I took a quick look earlier. Your gear is a bit worn. Understandable, considering how hard it is to maintain anything in this environment. But I've got some materials I haven't traded off yet. For a fair price, I can help out."

He'd done this kind of thing before—back in Brother Han's settlement. Plus, his in-game shop carried skill books for craftsman and blacksmith classes, both extremely popular among players. In a wasteland like this, logistics meant survival. That's why players in Ursus had started copying strategies from the veterans in Kazdel.

One of the Yeti team members, who had just finished enjoying his candy, perked up. His eyes lit up, and he quickly unwrapped his weapon and walked over to Felix.

"Mr. Pioneer, you're a craftsman? Could you help repair my blade?"

Frostnova said nothing—she simply nodded in quiet approval.

Felix gave a small nod and went to the back of the Truck, returning with his toolbox. Back by the campfire, he took the long blade and examined it.

Soon, several others gathered around. Felix quickly learned their names. Petrova, the first one who'd spoken earlier. Then there was Greg, and another member called Big Bear.

The names fit Ursus well—blunt, sturdy, unmistakably local.

"Don't you have craftsmen back at your settlement?" Felix asked.

Petrova answered, pulling back her hood to reveal a young face full of energy and spirit. "We do. The problem is materials. There's nothing in the snowfields. Mines are heavily guarded, and towns won't trade with us. We're stuck relying on the black market."

"Trade exists between settlements," Big Bear added, watching Felix's hammering movements with something like awe. "But minerals are the rarest. Food and warm clothing come next."

Felix nodded in agreement. "Before anything else—tools, weapons—survival comes first."

Out here in the snowfields, Ursus's official currency, chervonets, meant nothing. Just like in the player-run settlements, barter was the norm.

The weapons had seen better days—their durability was low, but they weren't rare or complicated to fix. The materials needed were common, easily replaced with scraps Felix often recycled during his own forging.

As for payment, he wasn't concerned. After finishing repairs for the rest of the team, he turned his attention to Frostnova.

The moment he stepped closer, a biting cold surrounded him.

Felix frowned. His background in Originium Arts gave him sharper insight than most—he could see the traces of Originium spreading across her body. The symptoms were bad. He understood the condition, but he wasn't a doctor, and he couldn't treat it.

With that in mind, he returned to the Truck truck under Frostnova's quiet gaze. Her teammates watched with puzzled expressions, unsure what he was doing. Moments later, he came back to her with a small bottle in his hand.

"Using Originium Arts constantly is only worsening your condition," Felix said, meeting her gaze. "This is a Oripathy blocker—Columbia's latest formula. It helps suppress the pain caused by crystallization."

Frostnova didn't move, just stared at him.

"We met by chance, and this bottle doesn't matter to me. But it might make a difference for you."

He tossed the bottle toward her. She caught it carefully, without taking her eyes off him.

"...Why?" she asked, voice cold but wary. "Why give me something so valuable?"

She narrowed her eyes. "I shouldn't say this, but I doubt your intentions. It could be poison, Mr. Pioneer."

"I'm Sankta," Felix said plainly. "Helping others is in our nature."

+Persuasion.

+Wit

Frostnova didn't respond. She stood silently, watching him return to the workbench and resume hammering and polishing her rapier.

The rhythmic sound of metal on metal echoed through the forest, and for a moment, she found herself fixated on it. Her gaze dropped to the medicine in her hand—the label clearly marked with its origin and formula. This was something she could never afford on her own. Even finding it would be a miracle.

And he had just given it to her.

"Your Oripathy is not getting worse yet," Felix said over his shoulder. 'at least, it hasn't progressed too far. It's still 1090... The Reunion Movement doesn't make their move until 1096 or 1097. She's still early in the infection.'

Even so, whenever she activated her Arts, the freezing grip of Ursus's winter radiated from her entire body.

"You already know what happens when you overuse Originium," Felix added calmly.

"You're not the one to warn us, Mr. Pioneer," Frostnova said, voice level. "What do you know about the infected?"

Despite her words, she quietly opened the bottle, took out a pill, and placed it on her tongue.

She swallowed it without hesitation.

"Because I hold a doctorate in Originium. Believe me—I'm a professional."

Felix gripped the hilt of the repaired rapier and handed it back to Frostnova. "Your body temperature has been consistently below average. That's a result of prolonged Originium usage. It's putting too much strain on your system. If you keep this up, you might not live past thirty."

"I don't need you worrying about my life."

"Take another pill and get some sleep. You'll feel better by morning." Felix ignored her tone completely. "As for the night watch, the drones will handle it."

As he spoke, several drones buzzed obediently into formation behind him, hovering briefly before dispersing into the dark woods—just long enough for Frostnova to see them clearly.

Frostnova didn't reply. Her lips pressed into a thin line as she watched Felix walk away without looking back. A few seconds later, she turned and returned to her spot.

Petrova gave her a curious look. Frostnova snorted lightly, twisted open the bottle, and placed another pill on her tongue.

She swallowed it silently.