A/n: I'll just paste them with my glue.
T/L Note: revision completed, enjoy.
Xian leaned back in his worn-out chair, staring at the ceiling as the hum of his shop filled the room. The clock on the wall ticked away the seconds, marking the end of another long day. His mind wandered, as it often did, to the same question that had been gnawing at him since the day he'd woken up in Terra.
Why me?
It was a thought that had followed him since that fateful day a year ago. He had always assumed his life would be ordinary, maybe a bit uneventful, but still... Earth. His home. But that had been before Terra had pulled him in, before the strange transition, before the reality of being somewhere else hit him. It wasn't just the oddness of the world around him; it was the fact that nothing here made sense, yet everything somehow did.
He exhaled, leaning forward, hands rubbing his eyes in frustration.
"I still can't believe this is happening... Terra..." He shook his head in disbelief.
His thoughts drifted back to Earth, back to the memory of his grandparents. He had been raised by them ever since he could remember, his parents nowhere in the picture. They had given him everything, and in return, he had learned everything he could. They weren't just guardians—no, they were mentors. His grandfather taught him the value of hard work, while his grandmother showed him how to be kind, how to understand people, and most importantly, how to fix things.
Everything from broken clocks to engines, to shattered appliances... Xian's fingers knew the delicate balance of machinery. He had a gift for understanding how things worked, a skill that had stayed with him even after the strange twist of fate had brought him to Terra.
"Guess it's thanks to them," Xian muttered to himself.
His mind swirled as he remembered the day he was pulled into Terra. One minute, he'd been working in his shop in Earth, and the next... he was standing in the middle of a bustling, unfamiliar city, filled with people and strange tech that felt like a mishmash of his world and something far more advanced. The first few days had been a blur—confusion, panic, and a sense of isolation that threatened to drown him. But then... opportunities arose.
His skills, honed over years of practice, found new purpose here. As the new manager of a repair shop in Terra, Xian had worked tirelessly to prove himself, impressing the locals with his ability to fix even the most complicated devices. Word spread quickly, and soon enough, customers were lining up for his services. His knowledge of engineering, despite the strange world he now inhabited, had become his greatest asset.
But it wasn't just his skills that had helped him rise to this position. It was the lessons his grandparents had instilled in him: adaptability, resourcefulness, and the drive to never give up. He'd learned to roll with the punches, to navigate the chaos, and to take things seriously when they mattered.
As he wiped his hands on a rag, he glanced at the clock again. It was late, but the shop was quiet for once.
He heard the familiar hum of a device being powered on, followed by the soft tinkling of a bell as the door creaked open. Xian didn't even need to look up; the rhythm of his work had become second nature to him by now. He heard footsteps approaching and then the soft sound of a person standing at the counter.
"Excuse me, sir," came the voice—a soft, yet firm tone that felt oddly familiar.
Xian paused mid-task, finally glancing up, expecting yet another customer seeking repairs. What he didn't expect was the figure standing before him.
She had short, brown hair, with bunny ears that can be mistaken as a donkey's ears, and her eyes—a shade of blue so vivid that it felt like they were glowing. Her expression was calm but determined, as if she had come to ask something very important.
Xian blinked, momentarily stunned.
Her appearance struck him as... out of place, but also very much familiar. There was something about her that tugged at his memory, a small flicker of recognition in the back of his mind.
And then, it hit him—like a bolt of lightning.
The icon.
That face... He'd seen it before.
It was Amiya. The same character from the Arknights game. The one he had played for hours on end back on Earth, never imagining he would find himself here, in Terra, in front of her.
He froze. For a brief moment, he couldn't breathe.
Amiya... The Amiya?
His mind raced as he tried to grasp the reality of the situation. But then, as he looked at her, something inside him shifted. He wasn't a fan of coincidences, not by a long shot. But this? This was too much to be just chance.
"Are you... okay?" Amiya asked, her voice cutting through the storm of thoughts in his head.
Xian blinked, snapping back to the present. He forced a smile, hoping it looked natural.
"Uh, yeah. Just... thinking," he muttered. "Can I help you with something?"
Amiya looked at him for a moment, her gaze piercing yet curious. Then, she nodded. "Actually, yes. I need something fixed."
Xian felt a wave of nervousness wash over him. This was no ordinary repair job. This was someone who belonged to the world he'd only begun to understand. And yet, despite the shock, despite the sense of disbelief, a part of him—probably the one his grandparents had nurtured—knew that this was exactly what he had been waiting for. This moment, this encounter, would shape his future.
"Alright, what do you need?" he asked, trying to steady his voice.
And just like that, a new chapter began to unfold—one that would change Xian's life forever.
---
Xian carefully adjusted the small device in front of him—a broken communicator, clearly well-used, its casing cracked from multiple falls. His hands moved with precision as he worked, disassembling it with the quiet skill that had earned him a reputation around Terra. Amiya remained quiet, standing just to the side, watching him work as her presence filled the room with an unfamiliar weight.
It wasn't the usual discomfort he felt when someone was standing too close, nor was it the impatience of a typical customer. No, this felt different. There was an odd, almost imperceptible tension in the air—something intangible, yet thick enough that he couldn't ignore it.
Amiya's eyes had not left him since she first spoke. She seemed calm, composed, but her gaze was distant, thoughtful, as if she was studying him. Xian noticed this, but he couldn't quite figure out why. She wasn't the type to act suspicious, not in the way others sometimes did when they were being overly cautious. But there was something unsettling about the way she observed him, like she was searching for something, looking for a piece of him that wasn't quite visible.
And then it happened.
Amiya's eyes narrowed just slightly, a subtle shift in her expression that Xian didn't catch immediately. But to someone who spent years around people, noticing little things, this was as clear as a flashing light. She seemed... perplexed.
Her mind seemed to be working overtime, and Xian felt a ripple of unease that hadn't been there before. She was a woman of few words, after all, the kind of person who got straight to the point. Yet now, it was as if she couldn't quite place something. It wasn't just the strange silence that lingered between them; it was the way she seemed to feel him—the way her ability seemed to register a blankness around him.
Amiya's abilities, particularly her observation skills, were sharp, almost otherworldly. She had the uncanny ability to sense the faintest of emotions, the hidden patterns in people's behavior. Yet, when it came to Xian, her usual keen sense of detection seemed to falter, like she was trying to read a page of a book written in invisible ink. There was a gap in her perception, a vast emptiness, like staring into an endless sea. It wasn't dangerous, but it was... unsettling.
Xian could sense the slight change in her demeanor, but he didn't address it, not yet. He kept his focus on the communicator, turning it over in his hands, as his fingers worked automatically, tightening screws, testing connections, all while his mind buzzed with thoughts of the strange feeling Amiya was emitting. Was it just him? Or was something about this situation really odd?
Amiya cleared her throat softly, drawing his attention back to her.
"Is something wrong with the communicator?" she asked, her voice smooth but laced with a quiet edge.
Xian looked up, meeting her eyes for the first time since she entered. He was struck, if only briefly, by the intensity of her gaze. It wasn't aggressive or hostile—just... curious, as if she was silently probing him for answers she couldn't quite find. Her stare lingered for a fraction of a second too long, before she blinked and looked away, her eyes scanning the cluttered shelves of the shop.
"No, it's fine," Xian replied, trying to keep his voice steady. "Just needs some fine-tuning. Should be good as new in a minute."
Amiya seemed to relax slightly, but that underlying tension didn't dissipate. Instead, it hung in the air like a charged storm cloud. Xian, not one for small talk, focused back on the device in his hands, his fingers working with automatic precision as he adjusted the settings, replaced the cracked components, and polished the casing. Every now and then, he'd glance up at Amiya, wondering what was going on in her mind.
For a while, the silence stretched on between them, broken only by the soft sounds of the shop—tools clinking, the occasional hum of a powered-on device, the rustling of papers. Amiya didn't speak much, but Xian could tell she was thinking, her eyes flicking over to him every so often, as if trying to make sense of something.
Her attention was piercing, almost unnerving in its intensity, but Xian didn't shy away. He was used to people being odd in their own ways, their discomforts, their hesitations. He was sure it wasn't anything to worry about. After all, his work spoke for itself, didn't it?
It wasn't until the last screw was fastened and the device powered on with a smooth, satisfying beep that Amiya finally spoke again.
"Thank you," she said, her voice slightly softer now, as if the tension between them had dissipated somewhat.
Xian smiled faintly, a simple nod in response. "Glad I could help."
Amiya stepped forward, her hand reaching for her pocket to retrieve the payment. Xian noticed that she hesitated for a moment before placing the required amount on the counter. There was a strange unease in the way her hand lingered just a little too long over the payment, but Xian didn't press it. It wasn't his business to pry into anyone's discomfort.
Taking the money, he gave her a polite nod. "Thanks. I'll let you know if anything comes up again."
Amiya paused, her gaze landing on him once more. This time, there was no suspicion, no odd intensity. Just a calmness that seemed to reassert itself. She smiled, though it seemed almost faint, a shadow of something else.
"Take care, Xian," she said, her voice returning to its usual level of cool politeness.
Xian blinked in surprise. How did she know my name?
But before he could ask, Amiya turned and walked toward the door, the soft bell above it jingling as she stepped outside. Xian watched her leave, a peculiar feeling bubbling up in his chest.
Something about her... He didn't know what it was. Maybe it was her ability, maybe it was just the weight of the moment, but Xian couldn't shake the feeling that this was far from an ordinary encounter.
He leaned back against the counter, staring at the door as it closed behind her. His mind whirled with thoughts. There was something off about that interaction, something he couldn't quite pin down. Was it just the way she seemed to analyze him? Or was there something more to it?
But before he could dwell on it any further, the sudden quiet of the shop brought him back to reality.
He exhaled slowly, pushing the unease aside. It's just another customer, he thought. Nothing more.
He turned his attention back to his tasks, the familiar rhythm of his work grounding him once more. But as he picked up the next item to repair, he couldn't help but wonder—was Amiya truly just another customer? Or was this the beginning of something far more complicated?
The hum of the shop filled the space, but Xian's thoughts, tangled in possibilities, would not quiet.
---
Amiya stepped out of the shop, the door creaking shut behind her with a soft jingle from the bell above. The cool evening air of Terra greeted her, brushing against her face as she adjusted her cloak. She glanced back at the shop for a brief moment, her thoughts lingering on Xian longer than she expected.
There was something unsettling about him—not in a threatening way, but in a way that felt... empty. A vast, quiet sea that she couldn't quite navigate. Her ability to sense emotions, to feel the subtle ripples of a person's mind, was something she rarely questioned. Yet, with Xian, there was nothing. No ripple, no echo, just a calm void that stretched endlessly. It was as though he was shielded from her senses, or perhaps there was nothing to sense at all.
Amiya shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. It's not important, she told herself. He's just a repairman. Nothing more. But the thought didn't leave easily.
As she walked down the narrow, cobbled streets, the sounds of Terra's bustling night life filled the air—merchants closing their stalls, children laughing in the distance, and the occasional clatter of metal from nearby workshops. Her boots echoed softly against the stone path, but her mind remained elsewhere, fixated on the strange encounter she had just experienced.
"Why couldn't I read him?" she murmured under her breath. She wasn't used to being caught off guard like this, especially not in a situation that seemed so mundane. Still, there were more pressing matters at hand.
Her mission.
She focused her thoughts on the reason she and her team of operators were even here. They weren't in Terra by chance. This city was strategic, a critical point in their larger objective. The device she had brought to Xian's shop was essential to their communications—damaged during their last operation against Reunion forces. Without it, they were operating blind, vulnerable to ambushes and miscommunication.
Amiya's fingers brushed the repaired device clipped to her belt. Xian had done a remarkable job fixing it, despite how foreign the technology must have seemed to someone like him. That fact alone made her pause. Most civilians couldn't handle such advanced tech, yet he worked through it with ease.
He's more skilled than he lets on, she thought. A flash of curiosity flickered in her mind before she quickly pushed it aside.
Focus, Amiya.
Her steps quickened as she neared the meeting point, an old abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the district. She could already sense the faint presence of her operators waiting inside, their energy more familiar, more readable. Unlike Xian, they weren't an enigma. They were her family, her comrades, each of them carrying their own burdens, their own stories.
As she approached the warehouse, she glanced one last time in the direction of the shop, her thoughts momentarily drifting back to Xian.
Why did he seem so... detached?
Amiya shook her head, forcing herself to focus. It doesn't matter. He's just someone I met on the way. Nothing more.
With a deep breath, she entered the warehouse.
Inside, her operators were already gathered around a makeshift table, maps and documents spread out in front of them. Silence greeted her as she stepped in, their eyes lifting to meet hers.
"Did you get it?" Dobermann asked, her voice steady, authoritative.
Amiya nodded, unclipping the communicator from her belt and placing it on the table. "It's fixed. We're back online."
A wave of relief passed through the room, subtle but palpable. Silence settled as each operator processed the significance of having their lines of communication restored. They weren't alone anymore.
Amiya took a seat, her mind still swirling with remnants of her encounter. But as the mission briefing resumed, she forced her thoughts back to the task at hand. Whatever strange feeling she had about Xian could wait. For now, there were bigger threats looming, and Reunion wouldn't wait for them to figure things out.
The mission came first.
And yet, in the back of her mind, the image of Xian's calm, unreadable presence lingered, refusing to fade.