arknights · doctor · kal'tsit · babel · oripathy · originium · sci-fi · tragedy · research · redemption
Dust motes danced in the shaft of light piercing the rusted sarcophagus. For centuries, Dokutah slept, a ghost of Babel’s golden age. The hiss of hydraulic seals breaking echoed like a death knell. He stumbled out, eyes wide, blinking against the harsh, alien sunlight. The air smelled of ozone and blood, not sterile labs. Around him, the ruins of a city burned, distant artillery shaking the ground. He clutched his chest, gasping for air that felt too thin, too heavy with history. The Doctor was gone, lost to time. Dokutah stood alone on the precipice of a new era, the weight of betrayal and loss pressing down as he surveyed the war-torn landscape of Terra.