Arknights: Mobile City

"How do I feel…?"

Texas shook her head, unable to quite describe what she was feeling.

Just now, she had successfully absorbed the memories tied to her Identity Card.

At the same time, she'd glimpsed what the true Thumb really was—

Extreme authority, rigid hierarchy—just thinking about the Thumb unsettled her.

It's like the Mafia, pushed to its absolute limit… Texas thought to herself.

Unfortunately, she hadn't seen much of the City's customs—her curiosity remained unsatisfied. She lifted her head, as if trying to replay the memories in her mind's eye.

"If that's what the Thumb is… maybe I really could become one of them…"

She murmured quietly.

In that possible timeline, her Thumb self seemed to be mortal enemies with the Sweepers. Ever since joining the Thumb, that Texas had been locked in constant conflict with them—apparently, her entire family had perished in the "Late Night of the Back Alley," giving rise to a deep vendetta…

Strangely enough, it echoed parts of her real life.

Texas found herself smirking wryly at the thought.

She tucked away her Identity Card. For some reason, she now instinctively understood that, if she wished, she could let that alternate self temporarily take over her body—overlaying identities at will.

She clenched her fist, then exhaled.

"My feelings? Hard to say… but it wasn't bad."

"Still want to keep exploring the City?"

"Of course."

Texas's expression brightened as she stood and replied firmly to Obsidian. For a moment, Obsidian couldn't help but admire her determination.

Fine. Let her go her own way, then.

"Well, keep at it. It won't be long before I'll need your help again. When that time comes… just don't go refusing me."

Obsidian smiled as he spoke. Texas nodded, serious.

"I'd better get going… There's still a lot in the City that needs my attention."

With that, Obsidian rose to his feet. Texas hesitated, then—almost reluctant—asked:

"So soon? You're leaving again?"

"There's always more work to do."

Obsidian chuckled, shaking his head.

Texas pursed her lips, letting out a soft sigh.

If I want to understand more about the City… Obsidian's the key.

But even now, she couldn't shake the sense that, when it really mattered, he still kept her at arm's length.

When will that distance between us finally close…?

The thought flickered through her mind.

She wanted to know more, to get closer to the heart of things—to be someone with the power to reach deeper.

"If there's work next time, can you bring me with you?"

Texas looked up at Obsidian, her eyes clear and earnest.

He paused.

"…We'll see. I'll definitely need your help again… but if you want to be part of everything, you'll need more strength—more responsibility. That means tying your fate to the City, for good."

His answer was ambiguous. Texas just shook her head, unbothered.

"I don't care."

"…In that case, I'll come find you next time."

Obsidian sighed, then finally left the room.

And in Texas's eyes, a spark seemed to ignite.

Hope?

Yes, she felt hope.

She exhaled slowly and sat down, gaze firm and steady as she stared into the distance.

Now that hope has appeared… I'm ready. I'll do whatever it takes to learn everything I can.

...

Back in his own cabin, Obsidian plunged into work once more.

He sent Laurentina a batch of wood, nudging her to pick up the pace. Her communications equipment would still take another five or six days to fully repair—the damage was so bad, it might as well be a full rebuild.

Obsidian was deeply invested in Laurentina's progress.

After all, expecting himself to set up every industry line in the early stages of a moving city—by hand—was a bit much.

As for energy, he no longer relied on the Pioneer as a walking generator. After treating Laurentina, he'd harvested a sizable cache of liquid Originium from her body.

Enough to infect a whole city, by Laurentina's estimate. Even once she built all the promised equipment and infrastructure, this supply would last at least half a month.

With that, Obsidian's energy problem was temporarily solved.

He did still envy the Singularity Tech of Lobotomy Corp… but for now, that was out of reach—left to the whims of the Well. If he ever drew Singularity Tech, his energy woes would be over for good.

For now, he kept nudging Laurentina three times a day, while moving the City steadily forward.

Two days later, the City had crept near the borders of Kazdel, and Obsidian dared not go further.

If I run straight into the Twin Kings' war, I'm dead meat.

But even in the outskirts, Sarkaz refugees were everywhere. Kazdel was filled with the displaced and the desperate.

And it was these refugees that Obsidian wanted.

He'd cleaned up the old alley ruins, rechristening them as the new "Alley One." As for Don Quixote slumbering in the basement, he decided to simply ignore him for now.

He can't escape, and sooner or later, he'll wake up. Since he's not a problem right now, there's no point worrying.

What mattered was building enough leverage to negotiate with Don Quixote when the time came. After days of consideration, Obsidian had already started planning his next steps.

He even intended to open contact with Kazimierz—once the City developed a bit more, he'd send the Pioneer over there.

But before any of that could happen, reality came crashing in—breaking his isolated focus. Obsidian burst out of his cabin, gazing into the far distance as the City's will.

There, he saw them: a band of Sarkaz, travel-worn and weary, trudging across the City's land…

The path from Kazdel to the City had finally brought Obsidian his first group of refugees!