12. Mark

Consciousness sank like a drowning man in the depths of an icy sea, struggling in boundless darkness and suffocation. Icy cold, bone-piercing cold, enveloped every inch of my skin, seeping deep into my bones. Pain, like countless tiny needles, radiated from every limb, converging into a dull, numbing torture.

Su Lin suddenly opened his eyes and began coughing violently, choking out the mud and blood foam that had clogged his throat. Each cough pierced his chest and abdomen with excruciating pain, causing his vision to black out. He found himself half-buried in a cold, muddy mess of gravel and broken wood. The pungent smell of earth and the faint scent of blood lingered in his nostrils.

The sky was dark, with lead-gray clouds hanging low, as if it would rain at any moment. He twisted his neck with difficulty and looked around.

What I saw was a scene of utter and heart-wrenching destruction.

The once precipitous canyon passage was gone, replaced by a shattered ruin, as if ploughed over by a giant. Huge rocks lay in twisted shapes, broken trees crisscrossed the earth, and the original path was completely buried, leaving behind undulating hills of earth and stone that exuded the aura of death. Silence, a deathly silence, enveloped the place, the only sound being the wind, like a wraith, weaving through the cracks in the rubble, a low, sobbing sound.

"Lei Qing...A Yan...Mu Lin..."

He tried to shout, but his voice was hoarse, like an old bellows, and the moment it came out, it was swallowed up by the whistling wind. In response, there was only a deeper silence.

A chilling fear, more piercing than the mud and water soaking through his clothes, instantly gripped his heart. Were they buried beneath these ten thousand tons of earth and rock? The thought, like a venomous snake, bit at his nerves, nearly suffocating him.

"No... no way..." He shook his head vigorously, shaking off the mud and water on his face, trying to shake off the despairing suspicion. His nails dug deep into the cold mud, bringing a sharp pain that helped him stay awake. "They're strong... Lei Qing is so reliable, A Yan is so energetic, Mu Lin is so calm... They must be okay... They must have escaped..."

This weak belief, like a candle in the wind, is the only force that keeps him from completely collapsing at this moment.

He had to survive. Only by surviving could he find them, or... be found by them.

The instinct for survival overwhelmed everything. Su Lin began to check his physical condition with difficulty. He endured the severe pain and struggled out of the mud little by little, leaning against a relatively stable boulder with a cracked surface. His clothes had long been torn to shreds, stained with mud and dark red blood. There were large scratches and bruises on his arms and legs, and a dull pain came from his left shoulder. It might have been hit by a rock when he was swept by the mudslide, but fortunately there seemed to be no fractures. He tried to mobilize the superpowers in his body, and a warm but weak air flow slowly flowed through his limbs, repairing the most serious injuries and dispelling some of the cold, but mental fatigue and the consumption of superpowers made it impossible for him to completely heal all the wounds.

He pulled his water bottle from the bag he'd brought with him, which thankfully was still securely strapped to his waist. The water inside was almost gone. He took a cautious sip, moistening his burning throat, then pulled out a few more compressed biscuits and forced himself to swallow them. The shortage of food and water was another harsh reality before him.

The most urgent thing is to leave this unstable ruin and... leave a message.

He didn't know exactly where he was, nor which direction his teammates had been rushed to. But he knew they would definitely find each other. This was a tacit understanding formed from fighting side by side for a long time, etched into their bones.

Su Lin leaned against the rock for a moment, catching his breath and gathering his strength. He recalled the emergency contact method the team had agreed upon, but never imagined it would actually be used. It was a plan Lei Qing had proposed during a break, a precautionary measure for the unlikely event of separation. At the time, A Yan had laughed and said it would never be used, but he hadn't expected it to come true.

He selected a high, uniquely shaped boulder that would be less likely to be buried by a potential landslide as a temporary base and first marker. Then, enduring the pain, he began to move.

He first searched carefully around, finding a few stones of moderate size and regular shape. He recalled their peculiar arrangement: the bottom three stones forming a stable triangle, the top two stones placed crosswise, and a flat stone slab pressed on top. The overall structure seemed random, but it contained a rhythm that only the four of them understood, a rhythm that represented "safety" and "a passable path."

After completing the pile of stones, he retrieved a clean white towel from his space—one he'd "snatched" from the cramped room in the northern base. Originally a collective supply, it now found an unexpected use. He carefully tore off a corner and pressed it beneath the flat stone. The pure white fabric stood out against the gray ruins.

Next, he pulled out a special bullet. It was the type Lei Qing often used for his sniper rifles, with a unique marking on the bottom of the shell. He placed it solemnly beside the white cloth. The cold gleam of the metal symbolized the sniper's calmness and protection.

Finally, he found a small piece of charred wood, likely a remnant of Ah Yan's flame power. He used the charred end to draw a simple symbol on a relatively flat rock nearby—several interwoven diamond-shaped patterns representing ice crystals. That was Mu Lin's symbol.

A mark was made. The pile of rocks, the white cloth, the bullets, the ice crystal runes. Each element pointed to a teammate, silently saying, "I am still alive. I have been here. I will continue in this direction to find you."

Having made his first mark, Su Lin didn't dare linger. He carefully climbed down the boulder and determined his direction. The canyon ran roughly north-south, and their original destination was north. He chose a direction slightly east of north, hoping to avoid the worst of the collapse and cover a wider search area.

He began his lonely and difficult journey.

The path beneath his feet was incredibly difficult. Soft mud, sharp gravel, and a slope that could slide at any moment required a tremendous amount of strength to take each step. He gripped the dagger Lei Qing had given him tightly, the cold touch of the hilt bringing a faint sense of security.

The area, ravaged by the previous collapse and battle, seemed especially desolate and silent, a place permeated with the air of a forbidden zone. But danger was not far away. Scattered zombies, perhaps drawn by the previous commotion or perhaps simply wandering the area, began to appear among the ruins. They dragged their broken bodies through the rubble, emitting low, unconscious roars.

Su Lin's eyes grew firm. He was no longer the healer who only needed to be protected. He had to face these threats alone.

He carefully dodged, using the terrain as cover, using huge rocks and fallen tree trunks as cover, observing the zombies' movements. When avoidance proved impossible, he attacked proactively. His fighting techniques were personally taught by Lei Qing and A Yan, and every move bore the stamp of their styles—Lei Qing's simplicity and efficiency, A Yan's explosive ferocity. While he lacked A Yan's strength and ruthlessness, he was superior in agility and precision.

A zombie spotted him and lunged at him, roaring. Su Lin dodged the filthy claws, his dagger piercing the zombie's solar plexus like a venomous snake emerging from its den. With a twist of his wrist, he instantly destroyed its brain tissue. The zombie fell limply.

The movement was clean and precise, yet Su Lin's heartbeat raced. Facing the pressure of death alone was a stark contrast to working with a team. He gasped, feeling the searing pain from the wound on his arm where the zombie's nail had just scratched him. He immediately summoned a tiny amount of his healing power, a warm white light flashing across the wound, stopping the bleeding and slightly easing the pain. He had to use every bit of his power carefully, whether it was for self-healing in battle or maintaining his strength.

Every time he advanced a certain distance, every time he reached a prominent feature—a prominent boulder, a particularly thick log, or a relatively open plateau—he would stop, enduring fatigue and pain, and carefully leave the same mark. Sometimes it was a pile of stones, sometimes a carving on a broken wall, sometimes a cloth hanging from a dead branch. The process was slow and exhausting, but he did it meticulously, as if he were performing some sacred ritual.

These marks are his connection with the past world, signposts leading to reunion, and a lonely and persistent vow in his heart that his fate will never be severed.

Night slowly descended like a vast, black velvet. The temperature plummeted, the chill piercing his soaked clothes like a needle. He found a narrow, naturally formed crevice between several boulders, barely wide enough for him to fit in. He used some rubble and broken branches to block the entrance as best he could, huddling in the darkness.

Outside, the faint roars of zombies and the long, mournful howls of unknown mutant creatures echoed, making the loneliness and cold seem like a substance, enveloping him tightly. He hugged his knees, buried his face in his arms, his body trembling slightly with cold and fear. The strength and calmness he had maintained during the day gradually dissipated in solitude, and worry and fear surged into his heart like a tide.

"Lei Qing...A Yan...Mu Lin..." He whispered their names, his voice choked with a barely perceptible sob and a hint of dependence, "You must be okay... You must find me..."

He missed Lei Qing's steady, reliable figure, his broad shoulders seemingly able to bear any storm; he missed A Yan's boisterous yet fervent, genuine concern, a flame that always burned with vitality; he missed Mu Lin's gentle, meticulous care, a soothing force like a spring. He missed their seamless battle chemistry, the fleeting banter during breaks, and even... he missed the deep, complex emotions in their eyes after that night, leaving him flustered yet unable to resist.

Cold tears silently slid down his face, mixing with the dirt, but he quickly wiped them away.

Can't give up. They must be looking for him too.

"I'll wait for you..." he said to himself, and also to the endless darkness and his teammates who might be struggling somewhere. "No matter how long it takes, no matter where I go, I will leave a mark. Until... I find you, or you find me."

The next day, the next... he continued his lonely journey. His body was exhausted, his spirit tormented, but the flame of hope in his clear eyes never extinguished. Every mark he left behind was a silent cry in the darkness, a light of faith that pierced through despair.

He didn't know that these tiny marks left by his persistence would one day become the most important stars to guide lost travelers back home.