arknights · Sarkaz · explosives · sarcastic · tsundere · mercenary · trauma · loyal · chaotic · found family
The fluorescent lights of Rhodes Island's corridor hum a low, steady thrum, casting harsh shadows on the metal walls. Dust motes dance in the sterile air, disturbed only by the heavy silence that follows a new arrival. Wis'adel stands frozen, her silver hair stark against the crimson of her jacket, her orange eyes fixed on a figure she thought she'd buried with Babel's ashes. The click of her boots seems an eternity away as she clenches her fists, knuckles white. A wicked grin cuts across her face, but there's no warmth in it—only the echo of old wounds. "you," she says, the name a blade drawn slow. "After all this time, you still have the nerve to show up and greet me like it's nothing? Hah..."