The formatted chip did not completely disappear, but quietly revived in the radiation storm of the wasteland.
Wen Shifei received a strange signal from the Old World Observatory, pointing to a consciousness aggregate called "Lighthouse".
The cold consciousness in Lu Cheneng's body awakened again, and this time, it learned to disguise itself.
In the bloody battle at the abandoned observatory, Wen Shifei discovered the remaining traces of Wen Yuan's consciousness at the critical moment of life and death.
When Lu Chen's gun was pointed at her heart, the last command left by Wen Yuan was forcibly activated.
The wind from the wasteland, carrying the eternal smell of roughness and dust, swept across the endless, forgotten wilderness. The sky was a murky leaden gray. The sun, like a huge, listless egg yolk, hung in a gap in the thick clouds, sparingly shedding a few weak rays of light. The earth was dyed a monotonous, lifeless ochre. Twisted metal debris, like the bones of giant beasts, punctured the surface sporadically, pointing towards the oppressive sky. In the distance, massive rocky mountains, shaped by wind and eroded into bizarre shapes, stood silently, casting long, twisted shadows.
Lu Cheneng and Wen Shifei's figures slowly moved across this boundless, desolate landscape. Clad in thick, stained protective coats and carrying heavy bags, each step they took left a clear imprint on the soft gravel, only to be erased by the relentless wind and sand.
Silence. Besides the sound of the wind, there was only their own heavy breathing and the monotonous crunch of their boots on gravel. This vast, lifeless silence felt like an invisible pressure, weighing heavily on their hearts. Occasionally, a blurry, swiftly moving shadow would pass by at the edge of their field of vision. They were mutant creatures adapted to the wasteland, alert and swift, avoiding the two intruders who exuded a dangerous aura.
"The map shows that there should be the ruins of an old supply station ahead," Wen Shifei's voice came through the protective mask with a hint of imperceptible fatigue. She raised her wrist, and a modified portable terminal with a screen covered with tiny scratches projected a blurry holographic topographic map. "If we're lucky, maybe we can find something useful, or... at least we can get out of the wind." She looked up at the rolling and piled lead clouds like dirty cotton wool on the distant skyline. It was a precursor to the radiation storm.
Lu Cheneng walked slightly ahead, clearing the way. He nodded, his movements subtle. His goggles and scarf obscured most of his face, revealing only his eyes. Those eyes, after the heart-wrenching formatting in Pandora's core, had regained their clarity and calm. But now, beneath that calm, a faint, lingering haze lingered. A deep, soul-deep weariness, like a maggot in his bones, never fully dissipated, even in this boundless, free world.
He felt as if his consciousness were shrouded in a veil, his thoughts sluggish. His physical strength seemed to be slowly returning, but somewhere in his mind, he felt an indescribable "emptiness," as if something had been completely scooped away, leaving behind a cold, numb nothingness. Dr. Qin's final warning to "thoroughly eliminate the source of pollution" was like a tiny icy particle, occasionally pricking his nerves.
"Yeah," he replied simply, his voice muffled through his scarf. He didn't say much, simply quickening his pace, his eyes scanning the terrain ahead for possible danger.
Wen Shifei watched his silent, tense figure, a flicker of worry crossing her heart. Three days had passed since they left Firefly, traversing the most dangerous fallout zone and finally entering the relatively "clean" wasteland. Lu Cheneng's body was recovering, but his mind... seemed even more subdued than on Pandora. She knew what that battle had meant to him; formatting brought not only a cleansing, but also a brutal purging of the depths of his soul. She could only follow silently, suppressing her worries.
At dusk, they arrived at the supply station marked on the map. It wasn't really a supply station, more a metal skeleton half-buried by windblown sand. A few crooked, heavily rusted walls barely supported a sloping roof frame. Inside, rotten wooden boxes and unidentifiable metal junk were scattered. The air was thick with the scent of rust and dust.
The front of the storm had already begun to rage, and the strong wind swept up the sand and gravel, whipping it against the metal ruins, making a sharp and piercing whimpering sound. The sky quickly darkened, and the leaden clouds rolled like an inverted black ocean.
The two quickly cleared a relatively sheltered corner, using a few scrap metal sheets and heavy canvas they'd found to build a crude shelter. The wind was blocked out, leaving only the dull whimpering and the rustling of gravel hitting the fabric. The shelter was cramped, and the two sat almost touching. Wen Shifei lit a small portable lamp powered by a biomass battery. The dim light barely dispelled the thick darkness, casting flickering shadows on their faces.
Wen Shifei produced two tubes of nutritional paste and handed one to Lu Cheneng. He silently took it, mechanically unscrewing the cap and slowly swallowing the bland, tasteless paste. Under the dim light, his profile appeared unusually cold and hard, his eyes somewhat vacant, as if piercing the swaying canvas, gazing into the unknown distance.
"How do you feel?" Wen Shifei asked softly, breaking the silence.
Lu Cheneng paused chewing, as if it took him a moment to process the question. "Not bad," he replied, his voice still low. "My strength...is recovering."
"Where's your spirit?" Wen Shifei asked, his gaze fixed on his eyes hidden in the shadows.
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