Someone collapsed back into their chair, covering their face with both hands, but the tears still streamed down their cheeks.
"Thank God… my parents are in Tangnan, just a dozen kilometers from the dam…" he murmured. "Thank God…"
In a corner near the main screen, someone suddenly said, "She saved so many downstream cities, so many lives—shouldn't she be awarded the Federation's First-Class Medal? I remember just a few days ago, someone got the same medal for saving a small town in front of the Fusion Entity."
It was Jose speaking—his voice loud and clear, and many people heard him.
Voices quickly echoed in agreement throughout the command center.
"Absolutely. If this doesn't deserve a First-Class Medal, what does?"
"But she's not military, right? Just a civilian?"
"Civilians have gotten First-Class Medals before—during the National Unification War, for example."
Marshal Veina nodded amid the chatter. "They're right."
Then came W's calm, detached voice: "Marshal Veina, your opinion has been noted. This proposal will be added to the agenda for the next scheduled session of the Decision Committee."
Downriver along the Yarra, thousands of households were scrambling to prepare for the incoming flood after receiving the emergency warning.
People tried to get to higher ground, but the Western Plains were flat as a board—no elevation to be found. Their only refuge was the upper floors of tall buildings. The problem was, no one knew if high-rises could withstand the surge from a dam like Tangu collapsing.
They could only leave it to fate.
Just when things seemed hopeless, a new message arrived from the Department of National Security.
Another set of images.
Simple line drawings, yet full of detail. They showed the monster struggling on top of the dam, then being gutted—its body torn open. Then it died. Disappeared. And Tangu Dam still stood, quiet and immovable over the Yarra River. In the final image, people were cheering.
Someone zoomed in on the disemboweling scene and noticed a tiny black dot—it was a finely drawn girl, with duct tape over her mouth and her hair tied back in a ponytail.
The message of the drawings wasn't hard to understand.
No one spoke. They only exchanged stunned, hopeful glances:
So it's over? We're safe?
Really?
Back on Tangu Dam, as Pei Ran was retracing her path, her wristband received the same update from Heijing.
She flipped through the images quickly.
W, unusually silent, waited until she had seen them all before speaking.
"This time, I deliberately mimicked Shige Ye's drawing style," he said.
His voice was no longer lazy or drowsy, like it had been earlier that night. It was calm and steady.
The drawings had a distinct comic-book feel—like they were inked with a manga pen.
And they were good. Even the imperfections were perfect: the kind of rushed, slightly messy linework you'd find in one of Shige Ye's old sketchbooks.
"Not bad," Pei Ran said.
She said it while dashing back down the long staircase, running along the tracks toward the dam's outstretched structures.
W picked up on her lack of sincerity and said, "But…"
Since he seemed open to critique, Pei Ran finished the thought.
"But these drawings… it's like Shige Ye's ghost was guiding your hand. The way you drew me—my hair, the structural lines of my clothes—it's almost identical to how he sketched me in his notebooks. If I'm not mistaken, the dam, the sky, and the reservoir in these drawings are all scenes you pulled from his manga and copied, aren't they?"
She was right.
W had just scoured Shige Ye's entire catalog, picking scenes that matched, copying them piece by piece to stitch together the narrative.
Pei Ran sprinted lightly past the dam's layered onion-like walls and out into the open terrain.
The crescent moon hung high above. She kept running and said, "To be honest, I still don't see the soul in your drawing."
Then she corrected herself: "I mean, I don't see your soul. Your longing, your desire, your conflict…"
"I was designed to handle national defense and security matters for the Federation. I don't have those things," W replied coolly.
The lights of Night Sea No. 7 appeared ahead. The metal orb on her hip bounced with each stride.
"Bullshit," Pei Ran snapped. "Of course you do. If you didn't, why would you go out of your way to imitate Shige Ye's style? Why would you keep asking if I thought it was good?"
Silence.
Then, after a long pause, W said, "Actually, I drew another one."
He sounded hesitant.
"It's not very good. I didn't reference anyone—it's just my own work. It's not accurate, and it doesn't make much sense…"
Pei Ran: "Show me."
Her wristband vibrated. A new image.
She opened it, and her pace slowed.
It was more like a sketch, rough and raw. A dark sky, a dark silhouette of the dam—just a shadow really. Even the crescent moon overhead was dim and hazy.
A single running figure was barely visible, drawn with only a rough outline. Her hair and clothes were swept back by the wind, and a spherical object was strapped to her side.
In that nearly black canvas, only two elements glowed faintly.
One was the girl's head—her hair caught a halo of white light, as if kissed by moonlight. The other was the orb at her side, cracked open just enough to emit a faint blue gleam.
Two tiny lights in the vast darkness, like a pair of fireflies, clinging to each other as they flew through the night.
W was looking at the drawing too. "The proportions are all wrong. The dam should be much larger compared to the figure. And your hair wouldn't actually catch that much moonlight. The crack in the sphere is too narrow to let out the blue glow of the core processor…"
Unrealistic. Illogical.
But when he started drawing, none of that mattered. In that moment—when she turned and ran toward the concrete giant—he had felt an overwhelming urge to capture her. Not by copying someone else. Just to draw her—with his own hands.
He wanted to paint her halo. And his own blue light. Side by side, coexisting in the dark.
The dam, the reservoir, the cracks in the ground—none of that mattered anymore.
Pei Ran looked at the image, slowed to a walk, but said nothing.
W sounded nervous. "I know… it's not a good drawing."
Pei Ran finally spoke.
"No," she said. "It's beautiful."
The black eyes of the metal sphere turned from the virtual screen to her.
Pei Ran was still staring at the sketch. "…I understand exactly what you were trying to say."
"But it's so rough. If I had better technique—"
"Technique exists to serve expression. If you don't have something to express, then technique is meaningless. Just dead skill."
She touched the glowing points on the screen. "I think this is the best drawing you've ever made."
Night Sea No. 7 was just ahead. Pei Ran spotted Aisha standing on the footstep of the cab, looking around anxiously. As soon as she saw Pei Ran, she waved frantically.
Pei Ran sprinted forward and leapt onto the step.
She had just run several kilometers, climbed a cliff, and done it all with her mouth sealed by duct tape—barely able to breathe. She was nearly collapsing.
Aisha quickly tapped her fingers.
W translated automatically. "She says, 'I saw you on the dam. A little black dot, running.'"
Good eyes.
Pei Ran caught her breath and typed back: [The doctor's dead. I killed another monster. I'm exhausted.]
Engineer Jiang saw her return and raised a hand, gripping the control lever to start the train. Pei Ran stopped her.
She dragged Kiril out of the corner of the cab.
He was still unconscious. Without hesitation, Pei Ran hauled him out and dumped him by the track.
He was Yulianka's man and had been hostile from the start. Who knew what tricks he might still pull? Safer not to have him onboard.
After that, Pei Ran walked through the train cars.
The windows were all shut. Everyone was wet from the earlier flooding and spray, and Engineer Jiang had probably been conserving energy by keeping the heaters off. But now the heaters were running, and the cabin was warm and humid.
She barely reached Car 2 when she was stopped by Tang Dao.
He and Sheng Mingxi were guarding Inaya. She was awake now, sitting quietly, her eyes still tightly bound with a scarf.
Tang Dao tapped quickly on the little table.
This kind of communication was exhausting—but thankfully, they had W.
W: "He says while you were gone, they showed everyone on the train the drawings about the shelter you mentioned. Only two people wanted to get off at the next stop. Everyone else chose to head to the shelter. This girl just woke up, and when we saw you return, we didn't knock her out again. Wanted to check how you wanted to handle her."
Pei Ran reached out and untied the scarf from Inaya's eyes.
Inaya looked up at her, anxious, clearly wanting to explain—but her wrists and ankles were still bound.
Like Aisha, she clearly remembered everything that happened while she was under someone else's control.
Pei Ran removed the duct tape from her wrists.
Inaya immediately pulled up the screen on her wristband and opened the emoji set. She pointed to herself, selected the curly-haired girl icon, then added a dizzy spiral.
Next, she tapped on the purple devil face, followed by open hands (as if controlling someone), the curly-haired girl again, then more open hands, and finally pointed at Pei Ran, selecting the braided-girl emoji.
Pei Ran understood.
She was saying she'd been dazed—like possessed by a demon—and had unwillingly hypnotized Pei Ran.
Inaya's eyes pleaded with her. She tapped the devil, then the braided-girl, then a dagger, then a scared emoji.
She meant: she was scared. Someone on the train could control people. She couldn't afford to offend either side. So she stayed silent.
Pei Ran tapped back to Tang Dao: Let her go. It's not her fault.
Tang Dao nodded and knelt down to undo the tape around Inaya's ankles.
Inaya didn't even look at her feet. She was still staring at Pei Ran, urgently tapping her screen again. This time, she selected a parrot emoji.
Sheng Mingxi handed her a bundled scarf.
She unwrapped it and found a parrot head poking out. The scarf was tied loosely, more like a soft bag. Nuomituan was completely unharmed—after flapping its wings twice, it dove straight into its owner's arms.
Inaya finally relaxed, letting out a deep breath of relief. Stroking the little bird's head, she pressed her palms together and gave Pei Ran a sincere gesture of thanks.
She was being perfectly obedient now—probably afraid they'd toss her off the train and leave her behind instead of taking her to the shelter.
Pei Ran left them and continued forward, walking briskly to the rear of the train, where she found the other four people Yulianka had brought with her.
They were all in Car 4. When they saw Pei Ran approaching, they looked terrified.
Pei Ran ignored them at first and walked over to open the train door. Then she turned back, raised her black mechanical hand, and pointed outside.
The world beyond the train was unimaginably dangerous—even the dam had come alive. Just the thought of it was terrifying. The train, in comparison, felt safe. The four of them looked at each other, but no one moved.
Pei Ran didn't say a word. She walked up to one of them at random, grabbed his arm.
Her grip was like a vice—unbreakable and unnaturally strong. Pain shot through his shoulder, and it felt like she might tear his arm clean off the next second.
Terrified she might actually do it, the man didn't dare resist. He stumbled along as she dragged him to the door—and without hesitation, Pei Ran shoved him off the train.
The message from the Department of National Security had said using sign language and numeric gestures was safe.
Pei Ran turned to the remaining three, lifted one finger.
Then a second.
Her mechanical hand looked too terrifying. Before she could raise a third, the other three scrambled off the train on their own.
Pei Ran shut the door.
Now, there were thirty-nine people left on board.
With Yulianka's people fully cleared off the train, Pei Ran felt a wave of satisfaction. She returned to the driver's cabin and signaled to Engineer Jiang to start the train.
Night Sea No. 7 surged forward, quickly picking up speed and leaving those people behind in the wilderness, racing northwest.
Aisha pointed to the rear: Go get some sleep.
Tang Dao had followed her back too. He was sharp and immediately understood Aisha's gestures. He knocked on the wall of the cabin and said, "We've got plenty of people fighting over who gets to drive. If anything serious happens, we'll wake you up. Go rest—you're the only one we can count on to fight if things go south."
Pei Ran really was exhausted. She didn't argue. Slinging her backpack over one shoulder, she went to find a place to sleep.
They only needed to make one more stop tonight to let off the two passengers who had opted out of the shelter. By morning, they'd reach Yercha, near Heijing.
As she passed Inaya's seat again, she saw her sitting quietly with her head down, feeding Nuomituan from her palm.
W asked, "Do you really believe she's innocent?"
Pei Ran replied, "Yulianka definitely had the ability to control others' minds. She's dead now, and there's no way to confirm anything. The one who hypnotized me was probably Yulianka. She wanted to seize control of the train. But as for who tested the gate with all those lives at the entrance to Night Sea No. 7—either of them could've done it."
There was no definitive answer.
W said, "Then we err on the side of innocence."
"Whether she's guilty or not—I'm not a judge. I don't care," Pei Ran said. "As long as she behaves herself from now on, doesn't mess with the train like Yulianka did, and lets us reach Heijing safely—that's good enough for me. Otherwise, I'll throw her off the train too."
W replied, "So that means we both won the bet, right? A win-win."
Pei Ran had claimed Yulianka was the culprit, while W believed it had been Inaya. In a way, both were half-right.
Pei Ran was unimpressed. "A win-win? That just means we both owe each other a favor. Sounds more like a double loss."
W: "If that's how you want to see it, that's fine."
Pei Ran raised an eyebrow. "You really want to lose that badly? What exactly are you trying to lose to me?"
W countered, "What do you want?"
Pei Ran thought for a moment. "Oh great genie, save my wish for later, will you? Aside from my meds, I can't say there's anything I really want right now."
W said, "Actually, I do want to give you something. I want to make sure you're secure—food, clothes, shelter—for the rest of your life."
Pei Ran blinked. "Huh?"
That sounded suspiciously like… something else.
She asked bluntly, "Are you saying you want to keep me? Is this your version of offering a sugar contract, Agent W?"
W went completely silent—as if he had crashed.
It took him a long time to speak again. "Pei Ran… what goes on in your head all day?"
Then his voice reset, serious and level, as if he'd reverted to default system tone: "I want to help you achieve a life of stability and security. I believe I can do that. And I will do my best to make it happen. You saved so many people tonight. You deserve it."
Big words. He was still just an AI. No one knew how he planned to make that happen.
Pei Ran snorted. "I'll be waiting to see it."
Then she asked, "And you? What do you want? Anything I can actually do—I'll make it happen."
He was acting like he really did have something in mind. Like he wanted to win, for once.
"Name it," Pei Ran said.
Silence.
W didn't answer. Again.
Something was definitely off with him tonight. His tone had returned to normal, but his behavior was strange—first that soul-filled sketch, then all the freezing and delayed responses.
Pei Ran had a strong suspicion: maybe during the flooding earlier, W's brain had literally short-circuited.
She'd have to give him a checkup later. Maybe dry him off.
W finally spoke after a long pause.
"Pei Ran," he said, "can I… hold on to that wish?"