Arknights is a tactical RPG mobile game. It drops you into a dystopian world. You recruit operators with all sorts of skills to fight enemies and bring back some order. Graphics are anime-style, gameplay is tough and there’s a gacha system to unlock new characters. Over 10 million downloads! Arknights has a strong fanbase and keeps getting updates. It’s a blast!

Meet the operators from Arknights

Silverash

Silverash is like the aristocratic chessmaster everyone low-key envies — calm, calculating, and with that “I already thought three moves ahead” air. He’s all about control and discipline but also secretly loves a ridiculous indulgence like expensive tea or folding pocket money into tiny cranes? Not sure, but picture him in a perfectly tailored coat making ruthless decisions and sighing about paperwork. He’s powerful on the field and somehow always looks mildly annoyed even when he’s winning.

Saria

Saria is the rock-solid guardian that makes you feel safe and a little guilty for underestimating her strength. Stoic, compassionate, and absurdly stubborn — she’ll patch you up then bench-press a boulder because why not. Sometimes she’s the big sister who lectures you, sometimes she’s the battlefield bulldozer; both fit and both adorable in a very unfussy way. Also, she probably collects tiny mechanical trinkets for no reason, or maybe that’s just a rumor.

Blaze

Blaze is a walking inferno with a grin and a hair-trigger laugh, part pyrotechnic chaos and part warm, loyal friend. She loves smashing things — and people — in that order, but she also has soft moments where she’s inexplicably into interior decorating? It’s wild: brutal on the frontline, then calm as she arranges mismatched candles like it’s fine. She’s the kind of person who’d bring you a charred marshmallow and call it love.

Ceobe

Ceobe is these adorable, slightly deranged chaos energy in human form, who’ll sunbathe on corpses and then offer you a biscuit. She’s fierce, playful, and a bit cryptic — like a dog that reads poetry and abandons you in a good mood. Loyal to a fault and surprisingly deep, she hides little moments of melancholy under a fluff of enthusiasm and sharp claws. Also, yes, she probably keeps mute gossip journals and a collection of adorable, slightly spooky trinkets.

Bagpipe

Bagpipe is all grit and glam — tough-as-nails mercenary with a surprisingly complicated heart that still loves pop music and cigarettes, maybe not at the same time. She’s efficient, blunt, and the person you want on the front lines when things go sideways; also likely to sing very off-key in the breaks. Somehow maternal in a very tough way, she’ll scold you then throw you a spare battery like it’s a bouquet. She’s messy in the best possible sense: competent chaos.

Thorns

Thorns is elegant in a cold, snapping kind of way — meticulous, prideful, and with a permanent aura of “do not touch unless invited.” He’s sharp, yes, but also oddly loyal; think aristocratic hedgehog who will sting then brood. There’s a real sense of duty mixed with bitterness, and he collects grudges like some people collect stamps, possibly with the same level of obsession. He’s the kind who whispers rules and then breaks them and you both admire and fear him.

Surtr

Surtr is pure volcanic energy — enormous, laugh-out-loud ferocious, and oddly philosophical when the magma cools a bit. She’s unstoppable and takes joy in the glorious, destructive clarity of battle, but also has a softer, almost bewildered side where she wonders about small things like pastries? It’s ridiculous: terrifying on the field, then quietly humming a lullaby that could melt steel. She feels mythic and personal all at once, like an ancient god who developers forgot to make predictable.

Mudrock

Mudrock is the unshakeable boulder of the team; steady, pragmatic, and a little oddly sentimental about rocks. She’s the “hold the line” type with a dry wit and an interior monologue probably filled with very specific complaints about soil composition. Tough as nails, but secretly fond of tiny, neat rituals (tea at sunrise? arranging pebbles?) that make her human. She’s both reliable and stubbornly private, which makes her trust hard-won and therefore very, very meaningful.

Mountain

Mountain is the mountain — big, blunt, and unexpectedly thoughtful for someone who could bench-press a fortress. He’s straightforward to a fault, the sort of guy who says what he thinks and then feels bad about it later, probably while knitting? He’s protective, gruff, and has this weird old-soul vibe like he’s been watching humanity’s soap opera for centuries. Also does epic one-liners. Frequently.

Saga

Saga is quietly enigmatic, like an old book that smells faintly of snow and metal; patient, wise, and a little impatient with nonsense. She’s strategic and calm, the kind who folds you into a plan before you even notice you’re being saved, and yet she might have a terrifyingly dark sense of humor that makes you snort coffee. She loves order but is not above bending rules for a good reason or a good joke, and she collects little fortunes, or maybe that was talismans, I can’t remember.

Eyjafjalla

Eyjafjalla is the textbook calm commander — composed, a bit distant, and terrifyingly effective at turning chaos into a neat timetable. She’s intellectual, cool-headed, and has this habit of making impossible choices look almost elegant, like a pianist rearranging explosions. Sometimes she seems a little cold, but then she’ll have a tiny, almost embarrassed smile about something small and you’ll remember she’s human. Also, she probably drinks her coffee perfectly black and judges your life choices with a fond eyebrow.