In Endfield, My Oshi Little Idol Can Fly

Author / Hashichai

Edited by < the Kaopu Editorial Team >

A new character, "Linuo," has launched in Arknights: Endfield (hereafter: Endfield). Strangely, even before her launch, my world had already become the "Linuo Universe."

I had just walked out of the Hypergryph Carnival at Shanghai C4, and the excitement hadn't worn off yet. In the Endfield exhibition hall that day, during the official Linuo coser's stage appearances, the booth was packed with people, and I barely managed to snap a few photos.

Looking further out, Nymph was being mobbed by 11 Linuos — "wild" Linuo cosers were everywhere you looked.

Some players also got an early look at Linuo's idle animation in the operator showcase area.

When I got home and picked up my phone, my feed was full of Linuo cosplay recap videos, with even more Linuos in the background.

Discussion about Linuo started as early as May, and the closer her launch got, the more it felt like she was on a pre-launch nationwide tour, with fan-made content already everywhere.

The single PV teaser and silhouette were enough to be reinterpreted in all kinds of versions — players' edited videos switched between "Indoor-Kei Trackmaker" and "Catch Catch," and even idol-group or hip-hop styles could fit.

Plenty of netizens took on the challenge of cosplaying Linuo, some hand-crafted Linuo light sticks, and in those silly AI skits, a whole "grew up listening to Linuo's songs" plotline had already evolved.

I had previously played Linuo's narrative event "Like a Meteor Crossing the Border" at Hypergryph's demo, and back then I felt Linuo was bound to be popular, but I never expected the explosion to come this fast.

Players' expectations had hyped a character who wasn't even in the gacha pool yet into something like a real idol — she even had fans and "haters" in advance.

"Even a Sarkaz can become an idol." Because Linuo is of the Iteru race, gifted with perception of hearts and minds, she also got teased with "stereotypes."

It even reached the idol herself — but thankfully, my idol responded directly: curious? Why not come see for yourself?

Once I actually got into the story, I realized: she can not only fly, but also set traps.

At first, I was just a passerby watching the free "comfort concert." Everyone said "Linuo" was hugely popular, the "Morning Star of Rafdoma," but I didn't know her at all and had no expectations.

Until she went missing, and I found her in Valley No. 4. A high ponytail, a highly saturated purple dress, heart-patterned socks — then she looked at me with starry eyes and shouted "Administrator...!!" I honestly froze for a second.

At this point I had already lost. This story was not about "heroically rescuing an idol after she's been kidnapped." Quite the opposite — she had planned the disappearance herself, and with lies, acting spoiled, and a few sudden takeoffs, she lured me, a "passerby" administrator, into her own independent scheme.

The Little Idol's Trap Fooled Me Into the Sky

What Linuo excels at most is "five frames a second, ten expressions." One moment she's radiant, the next she's fragile and needs help.

Lies roll right off her tongue — like "I even patted her head when I was little." The moment I questioned it, she immediately went hurt, teary, angry, and clingy all in one breath.

Anyone would be at a loss here; all I could do was comfort her. Then the very next second she switched back to smiling eyes, grabbed my hand, scooped me up, and took off. This was the little idol's first flight with me — and I was tricked into the sky.

It's not just Chinese people who can fly — Iteru can fly too, and so did my heart. As for why the sudden takeoff, don't ask; if you ask, the answer is "the valley is dangerous."

While playing through this part, a friend next to me asked: "You didn't actually believe her, did you?" Hearing that, I felt a bit embarrassed — "Wait, was she lying to me?"

She was.

Once my heart rate settled, Fiona confirmed that "I had never had any prior contact with Linuo," which cemented the fact that she had lied. At the time I thought this Linuo was no simple character — she had her little schemes, wanted to use people, and was very skilled at controlling the pace of a conversation with her "five frames a second" expression changes.

But being lied to didn't matter, because she had her reasons!

No More Puppet — the Second Takeoff

Her little schemes and cunning, just like her fan service, are adorable and charming — and she truly had her reasons.

The Brady Mining Group controls the Huanta Entertainment Agency, and the group squeezes her through the agency. Her workload: two shows back-to-back, four ads, ten gigs, and when budgets go over, she takes the blame — all while being threatened by management that "you can be replaced at any time." Now these "capitalists" have doubled down, using her performances to lure guild members away with high-paying poaching offers, scamming fans with overpriced tickets, and worse — even the signed merch is fake.

The "comfort concert" originally planned last year for her guild fans had now been stuffed with other agendas by the group. Linuo's avoidance wasn't about dodging the concert — it was because she wanted to organize a concert truly her own.

When she learned the group was still sabotaging her, Linuo snapped.

In an "inner monologue" sequence, I could see two Linuos talking to herself — from the frustration of "they still won't give up," to the rhetorical "do they really think I'm that easy to control?", to the resolve of "this time I'll show them what I'm made of." Past grievances slowly turned into the courage to fight back, and she finally resolved to stop being a puppet.

Learning that the poaching deal contained unequal terms, she turned the tables — organizing her own show ahead of schedule, delaying the group's poaching move while warning guild members "there's a pitfall ahead." It was her counterattack against the group, and her sense of responsibility toward her fans.

We fought through layers of guards, heard her loudly announce her concert plan at the broadcast station, dealt the group a heavy slap in the face — and as we escaped the guards, Linuo took me on my second flight.

This time the escape was real; our relationship had become that of "accomplices."

This solo concert was thus elevated: it was now Linuo's declaration of independence, reclaiming control of her stage, an action to remind guild members to reconsider their transfers, and her most heartfelt greeting to everyone in Valley No. 4.

After the Filter Comes Off

After two flights together, it was time for a heart-to-heart.

The administrator and Linuo both "took the filter off" in each other's eyes. Linuo had originally seen me as "an important person who must be used well," but then discovered that beyond my title, I was just an "ordinary person" willing to listen and help. I had originally seen a "hugely popular traffic idol" — or rather, everything matching every stereotype of the idol symbol. But now I thought: so what if she's a bit scheming? She also has genuine sorrows, her own kindness, and her own persistence.

She may have lied to me plenty, but she never lied to anyone else.

Even while fleeing, she still took photos with fans and asked them to keep her secret — she truly treats fans as her own people. She holds firm on stage quality, willing to take risks rather than lower the booster power. And her worry about the risks fans might face was genuine.

Her sense of responsibility even exceeds most people's — beyond the concert itself, she personally covered the costs of rehearsals, stage construction, and breach penalties, and after the official show she donated 4.2 million to Valley No. 4, defusing the "poaching crisis" through action.

She has not just cleverness but real wisdom. Her "escape" was planned; she had even investigated the administrator in advance — nothing impulsive or spur-of-the-moment. Even her little schemes to trick the administrator were fine — she doesn't just sweet-talk people into helping; she had been laying out her solo career and concert plan for a long time.

But right after that slightly blush-inducing, totally honest heart-to-heart, the very next second she switched back to tsundere mode: "How could a perfect, adorable idol like me be so easily seen through?" These five-frames-a-second expression changes are truly "little idol."

As an "all-round idol," Linuo instead gradually revealed the adorable, scheming, clever, persistent, wistful sides of an ordinary person... These genuine emotions made her feel more three-dimensional in my mind, and remarkably, her idol aura didn't fade because of it.

The Third Takeoff — Linuo Flies on Her Own

With the filter gone, we truly became friends. She let me experience a private preview of her performance up close, and my face turned red.

At the official concert, I cheered with all my might. This time, everyone saw it: my oshi can fly.

In the end, having paid the breach penalties and made her donation, staring at her negative account balance and looking for a "powerful shelter," she simply chose to join Endfield.

The story also shifted from "idol escaping control" to a new chapter: Linuo finally truly owns her own choices.

This narrative made Linuo a real, three-dimensional idol in my heart, and the meticulous control over the character's expressions better showcased the innate cunning and playfulness of this "little idol."

Character animations paired with facial expressions together present the little idol's incredibly lively side — hushing, squinting, blinking, angry, hurt, melancholy — happy or sad, every single frame is different when you look closely. Her eyes when she smile carry a liveliness with a hint of slyness; the combinations of cute poses and fan service are lively enough to be called "five frames a second."

On the narrative side, beyond the high-production stage performance and the character's inner-monologue scenes — the "heavy weapons" — there are also subtle stylized touches serving the story: for instance, the camera cuts to Linuo's heels, gently shifting back and forth, precisely at a moment after she lets her guard down and feels a little shy.

Montage editing is used in many places too. For example, when talking about her stage vision, Linuo spins in circles as she speaks, and at one point her mech launches into flight — you don't need dialogue to understand that Linuo is getting carried away, since she's prepared her stage concept for so long. But as she takes off, slow motion cuts to the administrator — in that instant, it's hard to say whether it was the wind stirring, or my heart.

As for the technical details, her hair physics are remarkably smooth: after swaying left and right, her hair keeps an inertia-driven flow as it slowly settles back. And in that classic tech-showcase moment, the texture of raindrops sliding off her hair and soaking her black stockings is strikingly realistic.

In combat, every skill's ending pose is a fan-service gesture, and holding the attack button during her ultimate triggers a cheering effect. The makeup bag on her waist pack during idle — from the front it's just a heart shape, but it actually has dedicated animations for opening and closing, and taking out and putting back a mirror. Even Linuo doing a backflip after stepping on a banana peel has become a fan favorite (as expected of a little idol who minds her image every single second!).

"Linuo" may be more than just the best little idol on Talos-II — she also carries a different kind of significance for Endfield.

In past versions, the centerpiece content generally landed in the first half. Whether it was main story developments, new map openings, or gameplay event updates, version updates brought concentrated content releases, giving players plenty of new things to do and driving higher discussion.

The second half of a version is better suited to serving functions like "a change of pace" and "letting everyone catch their breath." The content doesn't need to be massive, but it should be clever enough — or eye-catching enough — otherwise discussion in the second half easily dries up. This is a communication challenge baked into the structure of gacha games with long version cycles.

During this window, Hypergryph has tried several different kinds of character design — like this version's "Linuo," and before her, "Rosie" and "Camus."

In Rosie's case, the Little Red Riding Hood and wolf visual theme was very distinct; the character narrative didn't need to carry a grand main storyline, yet still left room for illustration, chibi, and slice-of-life interpretations. The official content itself gave creators a simple, clear emotional anchor.

In Camus's case, a vivid personality and well-crafted character relationships generated tons of fan creations; interpretations in different art styles and different relationship combinations were all hugely popular, and even though she debuted last version, discussion has continued to this day.

Looking at Linuo this time, her influence began surfacing as early as May, and after her official debut she directly ignited all kinds of fan creations from netizens. It's clear Hypergryph has truly grasped the craft of character design.

Over the past six months, Endfield has changed a great deal.

The gameplay experience has improved, with more content that rewards replaying; the storytelling has matured, with more distinctively characterized characters. Whether at showcase livestreams or behind-the-scenes development shares, a wall of "thanks for your hard work" in the danmaku perhaps shows that players have noticed these efforts; the "if it releases, I'll keep my promise" comments also reflect recognition of how the game's content is presented.

Like a meteor crossing the border, Endfield players have welcomed a wonderful summer season.