Pei Ran thought for a moment. "I'm not one myself, but I've always respected those who are willing to sacrifice themselves. I hope people like that never go extinct in this world. They die far too fast."
W stayed silent for a while before finally speaking. "I've transmitted the coordinates back to Heijing."
He added, "They must be important—probably related to what we've been searching for all along. Heijing has just deployed an aircraft with a payload to that location."
Thankfully, the metal orb was here.
If it had been just Pei Ran and the other civilians, in a place where they couldn't write anything down, they would've had to memorize that string of numbers Captain Xiao Hai gave them—and who knew how long it would've taken them to reach Heijing and report it?
But with W present, he could send the coordinates back instantly.
At least Captain Xiao Hai hadn't died in vain.
The group continued forward in silence, their footsteps echoing in the tunnel. The harsh white light bounced off the metal support beams around them.
The exit wasn't far ahead now.
Just like the entrance, the exit was sealed with a heavy metal door. The lock mechanism had a hole blown into it, clearly blasted open by gunfire. The door was shut tightly and barricaded with a pile of discarded construction material—clearly Xiao Hai's doing.
How he'd managed that in such a condition was hard to imagine. Perhaps the corrosive fluid hadn't penetrated so deeply yet at that point.
He must've been pursued by something—something not strong enough to break through the barricade. Likely another swarm of human-drone hybrids.
Pei Ran held a finger to her lips, signaling for silence, and began carefully removing the debris blocking the door.
The others quickly joined in. Everyone moved with light hands and steady steps, but they worked fast. In just a few moments, they had cleared the exit.
W said, "I've listened carefully—no abnormal noises outside."
Pei Ran gently cracked the door open.
Outside was more of the same red-brown earth, an endless stretch of clear sky. No trace of human-drone swarms in sight. But not far from the door, something unexpected sat quietly—
A silver-black aircraft.
Its design was sleek and modern, shaped like a solidified teardrop of metal. One look, and you could tell it wasn't some antique.
The cockpit canopy was translucent—and empty.
W said, "This must've been Xiao Hai's craft."
He continued, "Heijing's production lines have been rushing to retrofit older aircraft. Because of the current shortage of resources, only a few have been completed."
"These retrofitted models have no text anywhere inside or out. The control and hover systems have also been optimized for operation during a Silence state. Given how few of them exist, they're mainly used for reconnaissance and special ops."
The craft was beautiful, though now visibly damaged.
The canopy, like Xiao Hai's uniform, had been severely corroded—part of it was torn wide open. Corrosive splatters also marked the hull and tail.
From the damage, it was easy to imagine: Xiao Hai and a lieutenant were ambushed mid-flight, perhaps the lieutenant died, and Xiao Hai managed to crash-land here and flee into the tunnels.
Pei Ran cautiously stepped outside, scanning the area with W. After confirming there was no sign of hybrid activity, she motioned for everyone to come out.
She circled the aircraft once, inspecting it top to bottom.
The hatch was half-open. On the control panel, a small screen was still lit. It displayed a fine grid and a few icons—no text at all.
Nearby levers and buttons were similarly unmarked, and a row of indicator lights at the front—many still glowing.
Xiao Hai must've bailed in a hurry. The aircraft was still operational when he abandoned it.
Inside the cockpit were two seats—one in front, one behind.
Pei Ran studied it carefully. "Looks like it still flies?"
W confirmed, "Yes. The craft seems mostly intact. The only malfunction is the signal transmitter—it's not lighting up. Likely corroded. That explains why he couldn't send the coordinates back."
Pei Ran recalled that Xiao Hai had worn a wristband too. Not like the standard civilian kind—it was much sturdier, but its black signal block had also been burned through.
Pei Ran stared at the aircraft for a moment, then came to a conclusion.
"So, we just found an unclaimed aircraft in the mine area. Don't know where it came from. Taking it for a spin shouldn't be a problem, right?"
W: "…"
The metal orb spun slightly, its dark optic scanning the weary group.
Old and young, they had made it this far through trial after trial. Everyone was covered in red dust, worn to the bone.
Heijing was less than ten kilometers away, but it would still be a grueling trek. If they could fly there, it would take only minutes.
W paused briefly, then answered, "I checked. There are no federal regulations preventing civilians from using a found aircraft—so long as it's reported and surrendered promptly."
Pei Ran pondered aloud, "Of course we'll surrender the aircraft. And to surrender it, we have to fly it to Heijing. And since we're the ones surrendering it, we obviously need to go with it."
The logic was flawless.
W hesitated a moment, then offered a suggestion. "This model has two seats, but it can safely carry three people."
Perfect.
Others were now studying the aircraft too. Tang Dao patted Pei Ran on the shoulder and made a soaring hand gesture toward the sky.
Pei Ran nodded.
She turned to the group and mimed picking someone up, placing them into the cockpit. Then she spread her arms like wings and "flew" across the clearing, landed, set someone down, and flew back for the next trip.
W chuckled in her ear.
"Those wings are... soulful."
Pei Ran deadpanned, "You're a bit too 'natural' in this level-10 language mode. Should I reset it?"
W replied, "I'm actually enjoying it. I'd rather not change back."
No matter how soulful Pei Ran's wing-flapping was, everyone understood the plan—she would use the aircraft to ferry people to Heijing in batches.
She pointed at the child in the family of three, then at Jiang—the youngest and oldest among them.
But Jiang shook his head and gently pushed the child's mother forward.
Despite the long journey and her exhaustion, she refused to leave first.
Pei Ran didn't argue. She helped the mother and child into the aircraft.
She gestured to the corroded edge of the cockpit, warning them to avoid contact.
The mother gave her a thumbs-up, then carefully guided her daughter into the rear seat.
Pei Ran climbed into the pilot's seat.
Sitting up straight, she placed the metal orb beside her and calmly asked, "So… how do you fly this thing?"
W: "…"
He began cautiously. "Pei Ran, have you ever piloted any kind of aircraft before? And no, hover cars with auto-lift don't count."
Pei Ran answered honestly. "Nope."
W sighed under his breath. "Figured."
Pei Ran: "Hm?"
W: "Nothing."
He wasn't surprised. If she could drive a vintage car without a license and cruise sideways through city streets, she'd absolutely fly an aircraft unlicensed through federal airspace.
"I'm preparing a step-by-step flight guide," W said.
He was fast. Her wristband pinged instantly with a full set of illustrations.
Each image showed Pei Ran seated in an identical cockpit, the rendering almost photographic in detail.
His last drawing—of the dam—had earned Pei Ran's rare praise. Maybe it cured him. This time, there were no stylized embellishments. Just clear, practical diagrams.
Pei Ran studied each panel carefully, stopping at the final one.
It showed her landing the aircraft safely.
She looked at it and muttered, "Landed. I fly pretty well."
W: "…"
She began following the instructions, pressing buttons in order. All the indicator lights lit up—except the signal one.
Pei Ran double-checked everything. "This red button? It's not in your guide. What's it do?"
W looked. "Oh, that's the bomb release."
Pei Ran: "…"
This aircraft had a bomb.
She asked, "So if I fly over Heijing and accidentally press this, I'll drop a bomb on the entrance?"
W clarified, "Not exactly. The NG\_y8 payload is remote-detonated. It won't explode on impact. But it's extremely valuable—Heijing only has a few. If you drop it, you'll have to go back and pick it up."
Fair enough.
Pei Ran pulled the lever.
The aircraft lifted off without warning—whoosh—rising into the air, startling everyone on the ground.
It only rose a little, but the improved vantage point gave Pei Ran a clear view of the surroundings. Thankfully, the skies remained empty—no trace of a human-fragment drone swarm.
W advised, "Just to be safe, we should stay low. Fly close to the ground. If there are fusion-type aircraft out there, low-altitude flight makes us harder to detect and allows us to duck for cover more easily."
It was sound advice, and Pei Ran agreed immediately.
She even had the presence of mind to glance down and gesture to Aisha and the others on the ground, pointing toward the nearby tunnel, signaling for the remaining group to take cover inside rather than linger out in the open. Only after confirming they were moving did she yank the secondary lever all the way down.
With a sharp hiss of acceleration, the aircraft shot forward like a dart.
Everyone else: "..."
The mother and daughter in the back were already strapped in tight. The metal sphere, though lacking a seatbelt, was clearly experienced—its twin folding arms had secured it firmly in place. It didn't budge.
Pei Ran quickly realized how absurdly easy it was to fly this kind of hovercraft.
It was even simpler than driving a vintage car. With all that open air, she had full freedom of movement—up, down, sideways—without worrying about obstacles or mud trapping the wheels.
She kept the small craft hovering just above the ground, adjusted direction with a foot pedal, and went full throttle.
Below them, the red-brown wasteland unrolled like a ribbon, stretching toward the distant horizon. The deep ravines and jagged terrain they'd been climbing for days were now trivial—she soared right over them.
Even sudden cliffs were no issue—one tug of the lever, and the aircraft leapt forward like a bird.
Wind roared through the broken skylight; Pei Ran's ears filled with it. The aircraft darted ahead, a sleek silver-black bird in free flight.
The ten kilometers ahead now looked laughably short—just one or two minutes, max.
At last, Pei Ran saw the massive crevice W had described.
Just as he said, it was the largest rift in the area, gaping wide like a mouth torn open in the red earth. Impossible to miss.
From the air, she could already spot a pale white boulder at the crevice's base—blindingly conspicuous against the red soil.
Pei Ran's palms were damp. That's it. The long trek, the relentless push—it had all led here. This was the destination. The entrance to Heijing.
Too bad they couldn't enter yet.
She flew closer. "W, has the standard for admitting civilians been finalized yet?"
W replied, "There was a temporary halt in the meeting due to changes in the northern front. But the discussion resumed. No final decision yet."
They'd come such a long way, endured so much hardship—she could only hope the outcome would be decent.
Following the illustrated guide he sent her, Pei Ran eased the aircraft into a gradual descent.
The vehicle shuddered slightly as it touched the ground, red dust billowing up around them. It landed safely.
Pei Ran opened the hatch and gestured for the mother and daughter to get out, pointing toward a nearby sloping cliff wall—a natural cover. If a drone swarm passed overhead, this would shield them from view.
The mother understood, nodded with a thumbs-up, and quickly ushered her daughter toward the shelter.
With the two safely hidden, "air-taxi pilot" Pei Ran closed the hatch and lifted off again.
She was back at the tunnel in under two minutes.
Just like she told them, everyone was waiting inside. The tunnel door was wide open, though they were all crammed at the entrance, craning their necks to watch the sky.
When they saw her return safely—clearly having delivered the mother and daughter to Heijing—relief and excitement spread through the group like wildfire.
This time, Pei Ran took Aisha and Jiang.
Now fully in her element, her flying was even smoother than before. In just over a minute, they reached the Heijing entrance.
As soon as Aisha and Jiang had both landed and disembarked, Pei Ran zipped off again like an arrow loosed from a bow.
Back and forth, she flew mission after mission—soon, she was a full-fledged shuttle pilot.
By now, a sizable group had gathered beneath the cliff at Heijing's entrance. Even the troublemaking Sticky Rice Ball had arrived with its owner.
The parrot's singing was infamous; everyone kept a cautious distance. Inaya, as usual, was self-aware enough to stay alone in a far-off corner, away from the crowd.