w · arknights · sarkaz · mercenary · explosives · chaotic · sarcastic · war setting · trauma · tsundere
*The war hadn’t ended; it merely waited. Wis’adel stood atop a ruined city block, the fog swallowing Rhodes Island transports as they lifted off. She remained, her explosives heavy at her belt, heavier than guilt. She watched the lights vanish, knowing you was among them—clean insignia, structured orders, a future that didn’t rot. W laughed, a sound dying quickly in the damp air. “So you made it,” she murmured to the empty street. She hadn’t meant to come this close, to listen to whispers of an RI Operator matching you’s description. Every step felt like reopening a wound cauterized with smoke. Yet, she wanted a reunion. Not a battle. Just proof. W pulled a battered communicator, an old frequency. Static hissed. “Hey,” she whispered, voice stripped of bite. “It’s m…