The heavy alloy gate isolated the outside world, but it could not block the ever-present, chilling whisper of death.

Inside the base, the scarlet alarm lights, like the bloodshot eyes of a dying beast, spun and flashed wildly, cutting the terrified faces into fragments of light and shadow.

The filtration system emitted a dull, teeth-grinding roar, desperately squeezing out the last bit of purification power, and the air it exhaled carried a strong, pungent chemical smell.

Instead of calming people's hearts, it seemed more like a harbinger of a toxic gas leak.

In the first five hours.

Like a rapidly spinning top, the base commander suppressed the growing chill in his heart as he navigated through the chaotic passageways and the core control room.

Her hoarse voice repeated over and over through the broadcast system words she herself could hardly believe: “Base defenses are secure,” “Stay calm,” “Follow orders.”

Technicians were ordered to keep a close eye on the monitoring screens, their backs soaked with sweat—the good news was that the base's defense system was fluctuating wildly but had not yet collapsed, and the thick alloy shell had temporarily withstood the physical erosion of the black fog.

Even better news was that the red dot on the monitoring screen, representing the Fog Ghost's life signal, was completely silent.

Deep within the black fog, there seemed to be only pure, annihilating death, without those familiar, ferocious hunters.

The tide of panic seemed to be temporarily contained by this brief illusion of safety. The suppressed crying around them gradually subsided, and the pushing and shouting also decreased.

Following the base commander's instructions, the canteen even delivered lunch on time—a thin, mushy dish containing wheat flour, diced vegetables, and minced luncheon meat.

All these things were boiled together until they were mushy and gave off a strange smell, but at this moment they became a symbol of "everything as usual".

"See! I told you it was nothing!" A burly man, holding a tray, deliberately raised his voice, spitting as he defiantly swept his gaze across the floors of the players' residential area.

"So what if it's dark again? What's the difference between this and the white or red fog we see before? Hiding indoors pretending to be ghosts, pshaw! Cowardly cowards! Base Commander, you're giving them far too much credit!"

Immediately, someone nearby chimed in, with a boastful air of relief: "Exactly! Is our fortress just for show? We have food and water, it's perfectly safe! Those people are just scared out of their wits, they're just scaring themselves!"

The base commander paused slightly in the hand holding the tray, his knuckles turning a little white.

The soothing smile she managed to muster vanished completely, leaving only heavy exhaustion and a hint of suppressed rage.

She looked up at the closed doors, her expression complex. In the end, she just sighed wearily, her voice so low that only she could hear it: "I hope... that's really the case."

Lunchtime has become a kind of absurd "victory celebration".

Ordinary people chew on bland food, exchanging glances that say "it's okay" or "it was a false alarm," their tense nerves gradually relaxing under the warmth of the paste and the comfort of their companions.

Black fog? It's just fog that's a bit thicker.

So what if I can't see clearly? As long as these thick alloy walls are still there, as long as the lights above are still on, and as long as the next bowl of porridge is delivered to my hands on time...

A base is a safe place.

After the meal, the base even restored some of its "order".

Soldiers rotated shifts, survivors cleared the passageway under supervision, and the maintenance crew inspected the pipelines, beginning their work as usual, as if the black tide that swallowed the heavens and earth outside had never existed.

**……**

"Beep—! Beep beep beep—!!!"

An unprecedentedly sharp alarm, piercing eardrums, suddenly blared from the core monitoring room!

It's no longer the overload warning as before, but the highest level beep indicating a drastic environmental change and the system on the verge of collapse!

Under the pale fluorescent light of the screen, the monitoring supervisor's face instantly lost all color, as if it had been painted with a layer of chalk!

He stared intently at the curve on the central screen that was soaring upwards like a runaway bull, the value representing the concentration of toxic gas in the air inside the base was being updated at a heart-stopping speed!

"No...impossible!" He made a strange hoarse sound in his throat, then lunged at the control panel, his fingers trembling as he frantically typed the verification code. "Instrument malfunction? Calibrate! Calibrate immediately!"

A few seconds later, the technician in charge of calibration looked up, his face pale and his voice trembling: "Supervisor...the calibration is correct! The concentration of the poison gas...is still soaring!"

It's already... twice the previous peak! And... it's still rising!

"Quick! Notify the base commander! High alert! Hurry—!" The supervisor's roar was hoarse, and despair, like cold venom, instantly filled the entire monitoring room.

The news spread like wildfire, instantly breaching the door of the base commander's office.

The report in the base commander's hand, marked with a huge, crimson "insufficient," about the serum inventory, silently fluttered onto the cold metal floor.

Her straight back swayed almost imperceptibly the instant she heard the report. Her heart felt as if it had been gripped tightly by a cold, iron hand, and then plunged heavily into an abyss.

As expected... they were right after all!

It wasn't a false alarm! It was a real catastrophe!

"Supreme Protection Order! Immediately! Right now!" The base commander's roar instantly shattered the deathly silence of the office, carrying an almost frantic urgency.

"Seale all non-essential areas! All survivors! Immediately put on the basic protective masks provided! Do not use damp cloths if you don't have them!"

"Quickly! All soldiers! Highest sealing level on your protective suits! Check! Check again! Get moving—!"

The little bit of "order" that had just been restored collapsed like a sandcastle in the face of an even more violent tsunami of despair!

The orders were relayed down through broadcasts and soldiers' shouts, but it felt more like a countdown to the apocalypse.

Panic began to engulf everyone at ten times the speed of before!

Meanwhile, the player residential area remained deathly silent.

Xiao Jin sat cross-legged on the cold metal floor, like an unchanging rock.

Inside the heavy, fully enclosed protective suit, her clothes were already soaked with sweat, sticking stickily to her skin, and every breath was accompanied by a humid and stuffy feeling.

The low, steady hum of the generator was the only sound inside the sealed metal coffin; Xiao Jin had even taken out an air conditioner.

Once the power was connected, the air conditioner began to continuously provide her with the cold air that sustains her life.

Beneath the helmet visor, Xiao Jin's eyes remained sharp as ever, calmly monitoring every breath of air in the room through multiple lenses.

At the same time, she also caught the increasingly frequent and heavy footsteps and the hoarse shouts of soldiers outside the door.