Ursus Student Self-Governing Group

Before Crisis Report, Peterheim High

• Chernobog, Peterheim

The ruined halls of Peterheim were silent beneath the weight of the snow, with pale flakes drifting through the shattered windows and settling over blackened floors, broken desks, and walls still stained by smoke. What had once been a school filled with children's voices had become an empty shell, its corridors carrying only the faint whistle of the winter wind and the occasional creak of something shifting beneath the rubble.

Zima stood alone in one of the remaining classrooms, staring through a broken window at the snow-covered grounds below. Her weapon rested against the wall beside her, but her fists were clenched tightly enough that her knuckles had gone white. She hadn't slept properly in days, and every time she closed her eyes, the same memories returned—the flames, the screaming, the starving students, and the faces of those who had died while she desperately tried to keep the survivors alive.

Then came the sound of footsteps. Slow and Careful. Zima immediately recognized them.

Rosa appeared in the doorway, her usually immaculate appearance looking strangely out of place against the devastation surrounding her. She stood there silently for several seconds, looking at the ruined classroom and then at Zima, as though she wasn't sure whether she had the right to enter.

Zima didn't turn around.

Zima: “Why are you here?”

Rosa hesitated before stepping inside.

Rosa: “I wanted to speak with you.”

Zima: “Then speak.”

Rosa's eyes moved toward the burned remains of the classroom.

Rosa: “I've been thinking about what happened.”

Zima finally turned toward her, her expression already hardening.

Zima: “You should've thought about it sooner.”

Rosa lowered her gaze. She seemed to be sulking in her own grief from what happened. From the blood on both of their hands.

Rosa: “I know. I know I should have done something earlier... I shouldn't have allowed this to happen... Ever...”

Zima stared at her for several seconds before stepping away from the window, her boots scraping against the ash-covered floor as she appraoched. The self-targetted guilt Rosa gave only seemed to make Zima angrier.

Zima: “You always say that. You were the student council president. You had authority over everyone here, and when things started falling apart, you did nothing.”

Rosa: “I tried.”

Zima: “You tried?”

Zima's voice rose. She seemed to be getting even angrier, she gritted her teeth through uneven shallow breaths.

Zima: “You sat there while your people took food from starving students. You watched them turn on everyone who wasn't one of them, and you still call that trying?”

Rosa: “I couldn't control them. Please... Believe me!"

Zima stopped only a few steps away from her.

Zima: “Believe you?”

Her hands curled into fists.

Zima: “You know what I remember? I remember people begging for food. I remember people screaming in the dark. I remember trying to keep everyone alive while you and the others were hiding behind your titles and your families.”

Rosa's breathing became unsteady.

Rosa: “I was afraid.”

Zima: “So were we.”

Zima retorts, they were all afraid, all of them.

Rosa: “I know.”

Zima: “You keep saying that!”

Zima slammed her fist against the wall beside her, causing dust and bits of plaster to fall from the ceiling. Rosa instinctively recoiled. Zima noticed. For a brief moment, her expression changed. Then the anger returned.

Zima: “You're afraid of me now?”

Rosa slowly shook her head.

Rosa: “N-No.”

Zima: “Then what?”

Rosa swallowed.

Rosa: “I'm afraid of myself.”

Zima stared at her. Rosa's hands trembled as she clasped them together.

Rosa: “I had the ability to help them. I had the authority to intervene, and I convinced myself that maintaining order was more important than choosing a side. I thought that if I stayed calm enough, if I kept everyone under control, things would eventually get better. They didn't.”

Zima said nothing. As she listened to Rosa's late realization.

Rosa: “I watched people suffer, and I did nothing.”

Rosa looked directly into Zima's eyes.

Rosa: “You protected them. Zima... What have I ever done to deserve being the council president?”

Zima's jaw tightened as she looked at Rosa, she could feel her blood boil, she wanted to punch her. But her anger died almost immediately as Rosa's request left her mouth.

Rosa: “I'm here because I think you should be the one to punish me.”

Zima's expression went completely still. As still as the atmosphere in this desolate classroom.

Zima: “What?”

Rosa's eyes were wet now, but she didn't look away.

Rosa: “I think you should kill me. Zima... I deserve it...”

For several seconds, there was nothing but silence. Zima stared at her as if she couldn't believe what she had just heard. Then she slowly stepped forward. Rosa didn't move.

Zima: “You really think that's going to fix anything?”

Rosa's lips trembled. Her brows furrowing as her eyes struggled to stay calm.

Rosa: “No......”

Zima: “You think dying is going to bring them back? Huh? You want to die too? Huh? You think it'll make me forget?”

Rosa lowered her head in both guilt and sadness.

Rosa: “N-No... sob I don't know what else I'm supposed to do.”

Something in Zima's expression broke. Her fist tightened as she launched it straight into Rosa's face. Rosa fell onto the ground as Zima sat on her, punching her in the face over and over until Rosa started bleeding.

Zima: “You're supposed to live you fucking dumbass! I don't get to die, too much blood has been spilled already! If I don't get to die you don't fucking get to die!”

As Zima kept punching Rosa, she did not fight back, allowing all the anger and guilt from having killed so many to just, be set free on Rosa's face. She deserved this. It was far more painful than death, far more crude than death, a lot more persistent than death, but it was the feeling of living and sharing the same fate as another person.

After Crisis Report, Rhodes Island Sleeping Quarters

• Rhodes Island, Mobile Landship

The sleeping quarters aboard the Rhodes Island landship were unusually quiet tonight. The distant hum of the ship's engines provided a gentle, almost rhythmic background noise, while the soft glow of a bedside lamp illuminated the cramped room. For once, there were no alarms, no screaming, no smoke, no desperate footsteps echoing through ruined hallways. Just warmth, blankets, and the quiet breathing of five girls who had finally been given somewhere safe to sleep.

Zima's bed had somehow become everyone's bed.

There were blankets piled everywhere, with Gummy practically buried beneath them, Istina sitting comfortably against the headboard with a book resting closed in her lap, Leto stretched out near the foot of the bed, and Rosa tucked carefully beside Zima. Zima herself was pressed against the wall with her arms crossed, looking increasingly irritated by the sheer lack of personal space.

Zima: “This is ridiculous. There are other beds.”

Gummy: “But this one's warmer!”

Gummy happily pulled another blanket over herself, leaving only her head visible.

Leto: “And yours is bigger.”

Zima: “That doesn't mean you can all pile into it!”

Istina: “Technically, nobody said we could.”

Istina adjusted herself against the headboard, a faint smile appearing on her face.

Istina: “We simply did.”

Zima stared at her.

Zima: “You're supposed to be the reasonable one.”

Istina: “I am. That's why I know this is perfectly harmless.”

Leto snickered from the other side of the bed.

Leto: “Face it, Zima. You're stuck with us.”

Zima grumbled something under her breath but made no attempt to leave. Despite all her complaining, she seemed noticeably calmer than usual, her shoulders finally relaxed as she listened to the quiet sounds of everyone settling beneath the blankets.

Rosa remained unusually quiet, gently holding the edge of the blanket between her fingers as she looked around the room. There was something almost surreal about it. After everything they had endured, simply being able to lie down somewhere warm without having to worry about what might happen tomorrow felt like a luxury.

Rosa: “It's strange.”

Everyone looked toward her.

Rosa: “To think that we can simply... sleep.”

Gummy smiled softly.

Gummy: “Yeah. No worrying about food, or fires, or whether someone's going to come through the door.”

Leto turned onto her side.

Leto: “Don't remind me. I'm finally comfortable.”

A quiet laugh escaped Rosa before she covered her mouth.

Zima glanced around at all of them, her expression softening despite herself.

Zima: “...Get some sleep, idiots.”

Nobody argued.

For the first time in what felt like forever, the Ursus girls weren't soldiers, survivors, or prisoners desperately trying to keep one another alive. They were simply friends sharing a bed, teasing each other beneath a mountain of blankets while the Rhodes Island landship carried them safely through the night.

And for tonight, that was enough.

We Outta Crisis Reports, User Defined

• Somewhere in Terra, Unknown

Make up your own scenario, remember that this bot also has almost every single important part of Arknights so you can definitely ignore the fact I made this bot for fun, for the USSG, and use it as your run-of-the-mill story teller about Reunion and Rhodes and bla bla bla, why would you though? There's a one mil user bot with a much better script usage, but you do you, friend. - Sorrow