The dampness and stench of decay lingering from the sewer's exit were diluted by the cool night breeze at the edge of the Silent Zone, but it couldn't dispel the heavy burden of fatigue and the throbbing of survival. The neon halo of Sky City in the distance, like a ghostly will-o'-the-wisp, illuminated the two men's faces, stained with dirt, blood, and exhaustion.
Lu Chen's body swayed, the blood loss and overdrawn strength weighing down his limbs like heavy lead. Wen Shifei immediately reached out to hold his arm, but it was cold and sticky to the touch. It was unclear whether it was dirty water or fresh blood from the wound on his shoulder.
"Hold on, we're almost there." Her voice was hoarse, yet filled with undeniable determination. Her gaze darted deep into the ruins, where the lighthouse crouched on the horizon like a wounded beast. The light from its summit, faint and yet so stubborn amidst the thick darkness and city light pollution, was their only beacon.
Lu Cheneng gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stand upright. He breathed heavily, his throat tinged with the taste of blood and rust. "Let's go," he spat out, grabbing Wen Shifei's wrist with his backhand. Using the weak strength she imparted, he took heavy steps. The two of them supported each other, like two trees supporting each other in a storm, as they staggered towards the lighthouse. Each step echoed hollowly on the shattered rubble and cold metal debris, sounding particularly harsh in this abandoned and dead place.
The road to the lighthouse was far from peaceful. At the edge of the Silence Zone, shadows seemed to come alive. They repeatedly encountered scattered bands of scavengers, roaming the ruins like hyenas, their numb, greedy gazes sweeping over their scarred bodies and crude weapons. Without a word, Lu Cheneng simply placed his hand on the hilt of the Demon Blade at his waist. The blade hummed softly, and a murderous aura of blood and icy energy silently spread, enough to send those malicious prying eyes scurrying back into the dark corners as if pricked by needles.
Farther away, there was the roar of engines and brief flashes of energy weapon beams, accompanied by faint screams. It was the Black Snake Gang or other forces conducting dirty deals or purges in the darkness. Lu Cheneng and Wen Shifei were like ghosts walking on a knife's edge, relying on their familiarity with the terrain and astonishing alertness to repeatedly avoid potentially fatal vortexes.
When the battle-ravaged Lighthouse Fortress, its outer walls pockmarked with charred bullet holes and gaping gashes, finally came into view, a near-fatal exhaustion washed over them. The soldier on guard, behind the makeshift fortifications at the fortress's entrance, saw that it was them, and a flicker of relief crossed his tense face as he quickly moved aside the heavy roadblock.
"Brother Lu! Sister Wen!" A young soldier's voice was filled with excitement and fear, "You... are finally back!"
"What's the situation?" Lu Chen's voice was low and hoarse, his eyes sweeping over the noticeably increased fortifications near the entrance and the tense atmosphere in the air. The fortress was no longer filled with the usual clamor, but instead a suppressed silence, mingled with painful groans and soft sobs.
"It's terrible, Brother Lu." The soldier's voice lowered, carrying an undisguised heaviness. "The mental pollution index... has been slowly rising. The number of people suffering from contamination attacks has increased by 30% since you left. The medical bay... is almost full. The 'Beacon' boss is in the command center. He's instructed you to see him immediately upon your return."
Lu Chensheng's heart sank. The fortress's plight was even worse than he had imagined. He nodded, patted the soldier's shoulder, and without another word, he and Wen Shifei, dragging their heavy steps, entered this scarred, steel-clad home, struggling on the brink of despair.
The scene inside the fortress was even more shocking than the one at the entrance. The once orderly passageways were now covered in pipes and wiring knocked down by the explosion. Emergency lights flickered, casting distorted and swaying shadows on the walls and floor. The air was thick with the stench of blood and disinfectant, and a faint, cold aura like rusted metal. It was the residual mental pollution left by the "Ark" signal, amplified a hundredfold.
On either side of the passage, improvised areas cordoned off with tarpaulins were crammed with wounded soldiers and residents with glazed, fearful eyes. Some, deeply afflicted by the mental pollution, huddled in corners, their bodies twitching uncontrollably, their mouths emitting incoherent mutterings or suppressed sobs. Medical staff in bloodstained white coats hurried along, their faces weary. Medicines and bandages were visibly scarce.
Wen Shifei's gaze swept across the faces etched with pain or numbness. She clenched her fists, her nails digging deep into her palms. The fortress's devastating state, Lu Qiming's devastating bombardment, the out-of-control resonance virus... all of this was inextricably linked to the weapon she was commissioning. The suspended dark purple seven-pointed star swirled in her mind like a nightmare, bringing with it a cold, suffocating feeling and a gnawing sense of self-recrimination.
Lu Cheneng remained silent, but his gaze was sharper, like a wounded alpha wolf surveying its territory. He saw the newly reinforced support structures on the walls, the gleaming, energy-glow automatic turrets deployed at key points in the passage, and the figures of the soldiers, exhausted but still holding their posts. Amidst the devastation, the will to survive, like weeds in a crack in the rock, stubbornly peeped out.
Instead of going to the medical area to treat their injuries, they headed straight for the heavy, newly scratched door of the command center deep in the fortress. The door slid open silently, revealing smoke filling the air. The noisy reports and alarms on the communication channel mixed together, and the atmosphere was as heavy as iron.
The towering figure of the "Beacon" stood before a massive tactical holographic sand table. On the sand table, the model representing the fortress's core area was a glaring crimson, symbolizing structural damage and the failure of its energy shields. Black dots of light, representing the chaebol fleet and Lu Qiming's menacing aerospace carrier, circled around the fortress like vultures, never leaving. A dark purple halo, representing the mental pollution index, enveloped the entire fortress like a creeping poisonous fog, slowly spreading outward.
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