But the path ahead was still open.
Through the swirling dust, she could just make out the faint tail light of the drone hovering in the distance.
"Pei Ran, run forward another twenty meters, and you'll see the next turn," W said gently.
"Just ten more meters, and you can turn left."
"Right ahead, then the next turn is very close—only fifteen meters."
"Pei Ran, we're almost there."
His words were like a carrot dangled in front of a donkey—always just out of reach, always pulling her forward.
Falling gravel pelted her like hail, hitting her head and back. Countless green light particles were rampaging inside her, twisting her organs into a tangled mess of pain. Her mind felt like it was detaching, floating upward, separating from her suffering body. Her brain entered a strangely serene state.
"Sometimes I wonder," Pei Ran said inwardly, "if maybe you're just something I made up."
W: "...Hmm?"
"After the Silence fell, nobody could speak anymore. The whole world went quiet—so quiet it was unbearable. Under those conditions, people's mental states easily fall apart. So maybe I started to lose it… and created you. You're just a figment of my imagination—someone to talk to, to keep me company, to sing to me. You're not real at all."
She added, "Maybe you're just a mute metal ball. All the words along this journey? All in my own head."
W was quiet for a moment.
Then he said, "When you get out of here, I'll prove I'm real."
Ahead, the light grew brighter—brighter than the drone's tail lamp. It came from the end of a sloped tunnel. They say that when someone's close to death, they pass through a tunnel and see a light at the end.
Whether she was dead or alive, Pei Ran stumbled toward that light.
The collapse behind her was closing in. With a thunderous roar, red earth and gravel came crashing down. Pei Ran pushed herself to the limit and dove forward.
She opened her eyes.
Above her was the sky, hazy and dull. The ground was coated in red dust, but calm and still.
She had made it out.
The tether of the metal sphere had snapped. The ball had rolled off to the side, the frayed end of the rope lying not far from her pinky.
After holding so firm the entire way, the sudden break in the rope felt like a bad omen.
W extended his folding arms and "walked" over to her.
"Are you okay?" he asked, folding his arms and lowering himself down, his big black eyes peering worriedly into her face.
Pei Ran lay flat on the ground. She didn't feel like getting up.
Inside her, Green Light One and Two were completely stuffed from all the energy particles they'd devoured. They could barely swallow more, even as she urged them on. Yulianka's Green Light Three had already slipped away quietly, hiding somewhere, refusing to keep eating.
There were still plenty of frenzied, chaotic light-points left, wreaking havoc in her body. Pei Ran's vision was going white in pulses.
If she used Green Light One now, it might help it digest and clear some space—but the journey back to Heijing was still long. She didn't want to risk using up its power.
W said, "Pei Ran, look—our flyer."
He was right. This exit wasn't far from where they had entered. Their flyer, the one they had piloted in, was parked just ahead—its silver-black body glinting faintly in the dust-filtered light.
Pei Ran braced herself with one arm and sat up for a few seconds before wobbling to her feet. She picked up the frayed rope attached to the metal ball.
W: "I can walk on my own."
She looked like she could collapse at any moment.
"It's fine," Pei Ran said, gripping the ball and walking step by step toward the flyer.
Heijing Base, South Entrance
At the Great Rift.
The sun had fully disappeared now. Even the last sliver of orange glow had vanished behind the cliffs. The light dimmed, and the air turned colder.
Aisha and her grandmother still sat on the big white rock.
Aisha pulled a small blanket from her pack and draped it over her grandmother. She slipped gloves onto her own hands. Jin Hejun fumbled through his large backpack, finally pulling out a thicker jacket and putting it on.
The other two—the remaining members of the trio—had retreated to a more sheltered corner, huddling close.
The father of the family didn't seem to care about adding layers. He just sat on a rock, distracted, staring at the red cliff wall marking the entrance.
Suddenly, that section of cliff shimmered—like a ripple across water.
A figure appeared out of nowhere.
It was the same uniformed officer from before. He stepped through the camouflage layer and back into view.
He gestured toward the people waiting at the entrance.
They were stunned for a second, but then quickly stood up, hope lighting their eyes.
Maybe he had new instructions for them.
But the officer didn't offer any instructions. He simply pointed behind him—toward the entrance—and motioned for them to go in.
Jiang and Aisha exchanged a disbelieving look, eyes wide with surprise.
The father of the family hesitated only briefly before rushing forward—he forgot his bag at first, then doubled back for it.
Aisha reached out to steady Jin Hejun.
Jin Hejun had no idea what was happening. He couldn't communicate and could only stumble forward after Aisha.
Everyone followed the officer into the camouflage layer.
Behind the illusion of red cliff rock was a door—now wide open. Beyond it stretched a tall, wide tunnel, brightly lit.
A squad of fully armed soldiers stood just inside.
Beside them was a small military truck—ancient in design, the kind you'd only see in old films. Probably revived for its compatibility with the Silence.
The officer gestured for everyone to stop, then put a finger to his lips—a clear sign: stay silent.
Aisha understood: they were still in the outer buffer zone, not yet safe to speak.
The military truck bore no screens, no labels. Just a simple steering wheel and stripped-down instrument panel.
The officer climbed into the driver's seat and waved for them to get on.
They piled into the open-bed truck and sat down. The vehicle rumbled to life and rolled down the illuminated tunnel.
It drove for quite a while.
Eventually, a massive metal gate came into view—towering and thick.
As if it recognized the approaching vehicle, the gate began to open automatically. The truck rolled inside—only to find another layer.
They passed through three such gates in total, each followed by another squad of armed guards.
Beyond the final gate, the tunnel looked exactly the same.
But this time, the officer stopped the truck and turned around.
He looked at them and said:
"Welcome to Heijing."
The moment his voice echoed through the truck bed, everyone began to cry.
It was the first time in days they had heard a normal human voice—no screaming, no muttering, no dry rasping. And most importantly: the speaker didn't die three seconds later. He was alive, still speaking.
The father clutched his face and wept, bent over like a child.
Aisha wiped her cheeks—her hand came away wet. Her grandmother reached over and gripped her hand tightly.
Aisha tugged down her scarf and spit out the small wooden stick in her mouth. She opened her mouth and finally spoke aloud.
Her throat felt weird. Her voice, too—foreign to her own ears. The sound reverberated through her skull, strangely close and clear. It startled her, made her heart pound in her chest.
"We have a friend—she's still out there," Aisha said. "A girl, flying a small aircraft. We don't know where she went. Can we wait for her?"
It was a question asked without much hope. But the officer actually answered.
"The girl you're talking about—she left to complete a mission. The condition she gave us was that all of you be allowed into Heijing."
Aisha froze. "A mission? Then where is she now?"
The officer met her eyes with a look of apology. "I don't know."
Heijing Base.
Command Hall.
After the final Thinker was destroyed, the tide of battle in the northern front shifted dramatically.
The stalemate near the Phase Two Shielding Layer project finally ended. The area was reclaimed by the human forces, and the front line continued pushing forward with unstoppable momentum.
Agent W was reporting the updates: "Forecast indicates the battlefront won't fall back again. Engineering teams have begun repairs on the damaged Phase Two Shielding infrastructure."
Marshal Veina's attention had been locked on the northern theater. She had been monitoring the situation closely. When Agent W mentioned it, she suddenly recalled the storage unit.
She asked, "Agent W, where is your patrol drone now?"
Once again, the central screen in the command hall switched to a feed of the red wasteland in the west.
Everyone saw Pei Ran.
She was walking toward the aircraft—unsteady, swaying. Her condition looked poor.
"She's been exposed to the Light Vortex. Is she about to mutate?" someone whispered.
No one knew for sure.
General Eugene spoke up, "Let us pay the highest tribute to the hero who saved Heijing, at the cost of her own life."
Lieutenant General Dersa interjected, "But Agent W, she could mutate into a berserker-fusion at any moment. Your patrol drone is still beside her. That storage unit contains data that's far too important."
Everyone understood: if Pei Ran mutated like the Major did last night, the patrol drone beside her would be instantly absorbed, and the storage unit's data would be lost.
That data was crucial for repairing the Phase Two Shielding Layer—and that project was critical to Heijing's survival.
Marshal Veina gave a small nod.
"Agreed. Agent W, we'll deal with Pei Ran later. For now, for the sake of the storage unit's safety, I order you to immediately pull your drone away from her and return to Heijing with the data."
There was a moment of silence in the hall. Then Agent W's calm voice broke it.
"The Major took several hours to mutate after contacting the Light Vortex last night. I judge that following Pei Ran back to Heijing on the aircraft is the fastest and safest course of action."
Chief Executive Basserway cut in, steady but cold: "You could leave her behind and pilot the aircraft yourself."
Leaving her behind was already pushing the ethical line. But now Basserway was suggesting taking the aircraft himself. Everyone in the command center turned to stare at him.
Agent W replied coolly, "Flying this aircraft requires coordinated use of hands and feet. My patrol drone only has a pair of folding arms. I'm afraid I'm not capable, Mr. Basserway."
On the big screen, Pei Ran opened the cockpit door and climbed into the pilot seat.
She pulled out her backpack, took out a roll of tape, tore off a strip, and firmly sealed her own mouth with it. She pressed down, making sure it stuck.
Even though she was severely tainted by the Light Vortex's berserker-phase green light, she still seriously sealed her mouth, doing everything she could to survive.
The command center fell completely silent.
Pei Ran took a deep breath, gripped the controls, and started the aircraft.
Basserway stared at the screen, and couldn't hold it in any longer. "Marshal Veina, are we really going to let her into Heijing? I've seen the footage of the Major's mutation last night. If she mutates inside Heijing, it could put the entire base in jeopardy."
Veina glanced at him but said nothing.
Lieutenant General Song Wan spoke up, unable to stay silent. "Mr. Chief Executive, have you considered how your words would affect morale if they got out? The troops at the front will think: is this how the Federation treats the hero who saved Heijing?"
Basserway replied coldly, "Heijing is humanity's last ark. It's our only hope. Its safety takes precedence over everything."
Agent W turned off the video feed. His voice was colder than Basserway's.
"Mr. Basserway, I've already assessed the worst-case scenario. Our research on green light contamination spans many years. We have suppression wristbands, full medical equipment, quarantine centers, and reinforced isolation rooms. Even berserker-fusion types cannot easily break out. Last night, the Major mutated before we had the right protocols. This time, we're fully prepared."
He continued, "Inside Heijing, we have the capacity to contain a berserker-fusion if necessary."
"Capacity?" Basserway sneered. "With the Silent Wave progressing, berserker-fusion types are becoming increasingly monstrous. How can you be sure we're capable?"
W answered, "The Major absorbed far more green light than Pei Ran did. I have every reason to believe her condition is manageable."
Lieutenant General Song Wan added, "Mr. Basserway, please trust Agent W's judgment. He almost never makes a mistake."
While the debate raged on, miles away, Pei Ran heard nothing.
The aircraft slowly rose into the air. Only the sound of wind blowing through the hull's damaged plating accompanied her.
W's voice, too, had softened—so much that it barely sounded like him.
He asked, "Pei Ran, how are you feeling?"
Pei Ran resisted the swirling green light within her, gradually compressing it into one place. "Holding up."
As long as they behaved and stayed put, she thought, Green Light One and the others might eventually eat them.
The aircraft skimmed over the barren earth.
W hesitated, then finally spoke.
"Pei Ran, some people in Heijing don't want you entering the base. They're afraid you'll mutate and pose a threat to everyone inside."
"But," he said, "you must enter Heijing. Given your current condition, only Heijing has the medical capacity to suppress the berserker-phase green light in your body."
Pei Ran pushed the controls forward, increasing speed.
She asked, "Aren't you afraid I'll turn into a monster and destroy Heijing?"
W replied, "Don't worry. I've run a full-spectrum risk assessment. Even if the worst happens and you reach the Major's state, Heijing has the ability to respond. Only humans panic irrationally. I'm an AI. My judgment is purely logical."
Pei Ran glanced at the metal orb beside her.
Purely logical? Really?