The aftermath of battle in Rhodes Island is never quiet. The physical wounds are tended to, strategies are reassessed, and the gears of the organization keep turning. But beneath the surface of operational efficiency, the emotional toll lingers, especially for the Arknights Doctor. Fresh from the grueling fight against FrostNova, a moment of vulnerability is explored as Doctor Y/N grapples with loss and the heavy weight of command, finding solace and unexpected connection with the operator Blaze.
Elite operators in Rhodes Island are figures of strength and resilience, admired for their combat prowess and leadership. However, beneath the heroic facade lies human fragility. Following the intense confrontation with FrostNova, where survival itself hung precariously in the balance for everyone involved, Blaze, an elite operator known for her fiery spirit, finds herself drawn not to the medical bay for rest, but to the Doctor’s quarters. Despite the exhaustion and lingering injuries, a compelling urge pulls her towards him.
Standing before his door, a sense of trepidation mixes with determination. Amiya and Kal’tsit would surely disapprove of this, she muses, acknowledging the potential reprimand for neglecting her own recovery. Yet, the image of the Doctor’s face, etched with despair after carrying FrostNova’s body away, overrides any sense of self-preservation. The white rabbit’s demise, though born from conflict, resonated deeply. Blaze, despite her own optimistic nature, understood the desire to fight to the end, to seek resolution amidst suffering.
This world, with its constant strife and loss, seemed intent on breaking spirits. Blaze harbors a quiet fear that it might break the Doctor too. With a hesitant knock, she announces her presence, “Doctor Y/N, are you there?” A private conversation feels necessary, a chance to offer support when it’s most needed. The looming operation in Chernobog, a journey fraught with peril, amplifies the urgency. This moment might be the only chance for a genuine connection before the storm.
A muffled “Yeah” answers from within. “Can I come in?” she asks, pressing her ear against the cool metal door. A sigh, barely audible, precedes a whispered, “Sure.” The door swings inward, revealing a dimly lit workspace. Blaze steps cautiously into the room, her blue eyes adjusting to the gloom. Doctor Y/N is hunched over on a stool, head buried in his hands, his form trembling slightly. The usual vibrant hum of machinery is muted, the lights dimmed to near invisibility. Navigating the labyrinth of wires snaking across the floor, she closes the distance between them.
“I heard you took her body to be destroyed… are you okay?” Blaze inquires gently, her voice soft in the subdued light. Doctor Y/N sighs again, a sound heavy with weariness. “Blaze, are we ever going to save anyone?” The question hangs in the air, raw and unfiltered, revealing a profound sense of doubt.
Blaze’s hand, instinctively reaching out to offer a comforting touch on his back, pauses mid-air. She remembers the harsh bite of frost from the recent battle, the Rhodes Island technology and her own Arts working in concert to save her limbs, her life. These brushes with death serve as stark reminders of life’s fragility, of the preciousness of each moment.
The Doctor, in her understanding, had witnessed countless deaths. Yet, this one seemed to pierce through his stoicism. He doesn’t have his memories. This is all new to him, she realizes, understanding dawning. The weight of these experiences, unfiltered by time and familiarity, must be crushing. It’s a perspective often overlooked by others, caught up in the endless cycle of conflict.
Blaze moves to stand directly in front of him, then slowly kneels, drawing his gaze. She sees the telltale tracks of tears on his face, hidden beneath the shadow of his hood. Taking on the burden of destroying FrostNova’s body, a final act of respect and closure, must have been emotionally devastating, especially considering their complex dynamic – an enemy turned potential ally.
“I know you haven’t been with us long,” Blaze begins, her voice grounded and reassuring, “but Rhodes Island has saved so many people.” It’s a crucial reminder, a counterpoint to the overwhelming despair threatening to engulf them. The fight against Reunion continues relentlessly, casting a long shadow over their victories. Blaze herself is sidelined, unable to join Amiya and Rosmontis on the perilous mission to Chernobog, a frustrating constraint.
“I know,” Doctor Y/N concedes, his voice laced with exhaustion. “But I wish… I wish we could have saved them. Saved her. What’s the point of finding a cure if so many still end up dead?” The immense pressure of leadership, the responsibility for countless lives, weighs heavily on him. Since assuming command after his amnesia, his leadership had been marked by minimal losses, a stark contrast to the brutal realities of war. The fear of that fragile streak of success breaking, of inevitable casualties, is palpable.
“I wish we could have too,” Blaze echoes, her empathy genuine. “But I think she wanted to go out that way. One last fight to meet her end.” It’s a difficult truth to reconcile, but in the grim reality of Terra, death in battle holds a certain tragic nobility. “And I think… that while those deaths are sad, and maybe preventable in some other world, we can’t forget their meaning. We can use them to remind us of our goals, the better world we seek to create.”
A faint smile touches the Doctor’s lips. “She made me promise. I—I want to follow her wishes.” He is carrying a burden beyond the immediate grief, a commitment made in FrostNova’s final moments. Blaze nods, respecting the unspoken confidence. “I understand. And hopefully, you will succeed.”
“Hah,” he chuckles softly, a hint of self-deprecation in his tone. “I don’t know if you’d be saying that if you knew what she asked for.” Intrigue flickers in Blaze’s eyes, but her trust is unwavering. “Maybe not. But I trust you. And if you made this promise, then you must think it’s worth it.” She places a reassuring squeeze on his shoulders, a gesture of solidarity and belief. “So I’ll think the same.”
Silence settles between them, a comfortable quietude filled with unspoken understanding. Blaze’s heart beats a little faster, a subtle shift in the atmosphere. Despite the dim lighting and somber mood, she notices the kindness in his smile, the flicker of hope in his eyes – the eyes of a man who, despite his amnesia and the immense pressure he faces, shares her ideals.
“Thanks,” he murmurs, his gaze shifting away, a touch of vulnerability in his voice. “I… It really does mean a lot. I can’t—” He hesitates, then continues, “Not many people listen to me the way you do. Believe in me the way you do. I… I guess it’s because of whatever I was like before, but—” Doubt and insecurity creep into his voice, the shadow of his forgotten past looming over his present.
Blaze gently cups his face in her hands, her touch grounding and reassuring. “Don’t listen to them, alright? What’s important is who you are now.” Her words are firm, meant to dispel the lingering doubts. “Do you like who I am now?” he asks, his eyes searching hers, seeking validation. A blush rises on her cheeks, but her answer is immediate and honest. “Yes, I do.”
Hesitantly, Doctor Y/N leans in, the movement slow and deliberate, offering Blaze the chance to retreat. But she doesn’t. Their lips meet, a soft, tentative kiss that transcends mere comfort. It is a moment of shared vulnerability, of burgeoning trust and warmth blooming in the cold aftermath of battle. As their eyes flutter closed, they find solace in each other, two souls united by a shared hope for a better future amidst the harsh realities of their world.
