Chapter 76

“Hels!!”

Bang!

A scream rang out as the bullet sped through the air, slicing it instantly.

The next second, the alien at the window vanished into thin air.

A hundred meters away, amid the vast night, Wen Yu quickly reloaded, raised her gun again, and narrowed her eyes.

Hels vaulted up at top speed, gasping for breath. He immediately drew his gun and pulled the trigger at the alien attacking Horne.

Bang!

“Export complete! Let’s go!” Ben Yian shouted.

Bang! Han Ya fired again, killing another one.

All three were eliminated.

Lights flicked on from the ground floor all the way up to the tenth.

Han Ya yelled, “The guards are coming up!”

Horne knelt by the edge of the wall, his face deathly pale. His two arms were a mangled mess of flesh and blood. He shakily stood up.

Hels rushed over. “Horne!”

“Let’s go.” Horne gritted his teeth. The moment Hels appeared before him, the congealed blood on his body began to flow again.

The bleeding was heavy.

“Horne, how did you…” Hels’s gaze fell on him. The blood and wounds covering his body made him forget to breathe. Then he began to tremble violently.

It was a terror he had never felt before, surging from the depths of his heart.

Horne forced himself to take a deep breath and rasped, “I’m fine, I’m fine. Let’s go first.”

The four of them rushed to the door. Just as Han Ya kicked the metal door, cracks appeared on Horne’s already bloodless face.

The alarm had triggered, locking down every door on the floor.

Han Ya charged over and kicked it again, but the door didn’t budge.

They were trapped inside.

“Fuck!” Han Ya cursed. “What the hell do we do now?”

The alarm echoed like rippling waves, growing indistinct.

Horne’s vision went black, and he toppled straight over. Almost in the same instant, Hels scooped him up entirely.

He had lost too much blood. His brain was filled with greenish afterimages. Even breathing was difficult. It hurt so much.

Hels’s arms trembled as he held him. “Horne, hang on!”

The alarm kept blaring. Wen Yu sent a message: the guards had reached the fifteenth floor.

Han Ya kicked the door again, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead.

Ben Yian had no idea what to do. Chaos reigned.

【Wen Yu: [They’re coming up. Retreat to the back. I’ll detonate a flashbang at the door.]】

It would blind those nearby, but the flashbang’s range was huge and might hit them too.

Han Ya shouted, “Damn it, am I gonna die here today?!”

In that second, Hels calmed down.

He wouldn’t die here. Even if he did, he’d get Horne out—even if it meant jumping from the window. He’d be happy to cushion him below, becoming a puddle of muck.

Jumping?

Hels suddenly turned back, picked up the flashlight he’d dropped in the panic, and shone it upward.

Ten meters up on the ceiling, in the dark corner, there was one more.

As expected.

In the earlier rush, with poor lighting, he hadn’t counted them properly. In the second Horne had shone the light, Hels had glimpsed more than three. And this one hadn’t attacked them from start to finish.

Hels instantly drew his gun, aimed straight up, and said in an utterly icy voice, “Come down.”

The next second, he froze.

In that same moment, countless footsteps sounded outside the door.

Ben Yian whispered, “The guards are here!”

“Fight them all!”

Horne’s consciousness grew fuzzier. His eyes could barely stay open. He only knew his blood was draining away, staining the clothes of the man holding him.

So cold.

Hels sent a message: 【Do you have any incendiaries?】

The moment he sent it, Ben Yian’s expression shattered. He roared, “What are you doing?! No burning!!”

Their plan hadn’t included destroying the lab!

Without the lab, it was all over!

The alien’s massive wings whipped up a fierce gust as it lunged at the four of them.

Bang! The metal door was smashed open.

As the guards rushed in, bullets streaked out. Terrifying flames erupted, blocking the two groups.

A massive burst of sparks lit up the city sky.

Boom— The sparks turned into fire serpents in seconds.

“Ah—!!” Ben Yian screamed.

Atop the Warfallen Asylum Gray Building, in the black night, a sea of fire suddenly descended.

The heatwave hit instantly. Horne felt intense weightlessness amid the scorching wind howling in his ears. He used all his strength to open his eyes.

Stars twinkled—the stars he often gazed at, now so close.

In the distance, the Frost Plains slumbered eternally in the endless black night.

And the arms holding him had never gripped so tightly.

–

“Because of these experiences, you know who you are—and how difficult and resolute this path has been.”

“Will I see you all again?”

“In dreams, maybe.”

In the dream.

Horne knew he was dreaming, but the agony in his body was still unbearable.

In the instant he fell, a pair of hands caught him.

He turned his head, hoping to see Hels, but instead faced an unfamiliar countenance.

The other was even more surprised. “Horne?”

Time in the dream seemed to stretch forever—or perhaps just a flash.

But for Horne, those ten years felt like a dream, an endless illusion.

He told the dream figure about Loch City, his pain, his experiences, his persistence, the betrayals he’d endured, the countless nights he’d wept in the Frost Plains.

And Hels. And the games he’d been unwillingly dragged into over these years.

The dream figure was silent for a long time, then smiled and said, “Helping others isn’t always kindness. Sometimes, not helping is the kind act. Remember, no good in the world is absolute. Enjoy your share.”

You have close friends without reservation. You have Hels, your beliefs, your resolve, your gentleness.

In the end, what reality dilutes, love will concentrate.

And you love them so much.

–

When Horne opened his eyes, he first smelled a familiar woody scent. Then the ceiling patterns sharpened—the ones he saw every time he woke or slept.

The reassuring bed, the dimly lit bedside lamp casting faint light over the bedroom. Outside the window, night.

He was in his own room.

He shifted slightly, and pain shot through his body. He couldn’t help groaning.

Even with the bone reset device installed, in this familiar, safe space, the pain felt intolerable.

Rapid footsteps pounded from the bottom of the stairs right up to him. Hels appeared panting in the doorway, crossed the room in two strides, and rushed to the bedside.

“Horne!” Anxiety creased his brow into furrows. His clothes hung loosely on him, one button undone.

That familiar aura. Horne half-opened his eyes, unsure how to describe it. No matter his state, as long as Hels was nearby, he could sense the flow of the air.

It took him a while to ask, “How long was I out?” His voice was hoarse and parched.

“A week.”

A week unconscious. They hadn’t dared take him to a hospital for fear of suspicion. Han Ya and Wen Yu had urgently pulled their most trusted doctor from the Military District to a private clinic, with strict orders to keep it secret.

After two days there, Hels had brought him home.

Fortunately, his injuries were within the range of the auto-treatment pod’s emergency capabilities.

“Does the wound hurt?” Hels spoke rapidly, as if every extra second would mean more pain for Horne.

Horne shook his head. As long as he didn’t move or flex his arm muscles, it was bearable.

A bowl of egg noodles, a cup of hot milk, a slice of cheesecake. Afraid Horne wouldn’t want to eat, Hels had also simmered porridge and prepared warm water. It all sat by the bed, the aromas wafting gently, gradually overtaking the woody scent.

Horne tried to sit up, and Hels immediately supported him.

His last memories were blurry, but the ones before were crystal clear. Horne closed his eyes briefly, then opened them and turned to stare at the bowl of porridge.

Plain porridge topped with cheese bits. It looked decent.

At the thought, his stomach cramped noticeably. Hels brought over the bowl and cup, holding them to Horne’s lips.

“I’ll feed you.”

A few sips of warm water soothed his stomach. It was the first time Horne had been cared for like this; it felt awkward. But with his arms wrapped in thick bandages, he probably couldn’t move them for a while. He hesitated two seconds, sat up straighter, parted his lips slightly, and let Hels guide the spoon into his mouth.

Then Horne fell silent.

Porridge in his mouth, he let out a hum. Hels leaned in with the bowl, voice urgent. “What’s wrong?”

Horne buried his head, spat out the porridge expressionlessly, and added two words: “Tastes awful.”

Hels’s hand froze mid-air with the bowl.

He’d just learned to make it, but who got critiqued right after waking up?

“Brother!” Hels’s tone held a note of complaint.

The corner of Horne’s mouth curved faintly. He leaned back against the headboard and closed his eyes.

“Leave it. I’ll eat later.”

He never touched it again, even after it cooled. He had no appetite. A lot had happened during the week he slept. Messages flooded the terminal, reports piling up about that night’s incident.

The original plan had Wen Yu monitoring from afar, alerting them to threats. They’d grab the data and slip back quietly. No one expected aliens there.

At the thought, Horne’s brows furrowed, his breathing uneven.

They’d fought aliens for decades, yet in their last remaining city, the enemy species had already lurked.

So ironic. Was this humanity’s farther future?

“Rest a bit more?” Hels asked. He sat on the bed’s edge, eyes fixed on Horne’s pale face.

Horne shook his head. “In a bit.” He was still checking the backed-up terminal messages.

An unknown accident at the Gray Building: a fire raged all night, injuring several. Luckily, it started on the top floor, with a safe distance from the guards who’d rushed in and the patients below. No fatalities.

City-wide notice: 【Warfallen Asylum Gray Building: Mental patient arson caused the fire. Suspect fled. Citywide lockdown. No unnecessary outings.】

They’d used that excuse—explaining the fire while sealing the city to hunt the culprit.

Horne found it amusing.

Burning the building hadn’t been in his and Wen Yu’s plan, but the terminal had her explanation of what followed.

It was Hels’s call. No better option at the time, so destroying the entire lab floor was an unexpected but acceptable outcome.

Understandable. But events after his blackout exceeded his comprehension.

Horne opened his eyes and met Hels’s gaze.

That blazing, unmasked stare never wavered. It was as if Hels didn’t care how the world turned or what happened outside. As long as Horne was here in this house, in front of him, that was his whole life.

“What about that alien?” Horne asked.

“Which one?” Hels realized immediately. “Oh, it got away.”

Faced with Hels’s gun barrel like a black hole, the alien had obeyed. Wen Yu saw it through her scope as it burst out the window, the four of them clinging to its massive wing frame. Relief mixed with far more complex emotions.

Their own kind drove them to desperation; an alien species carried them into the night sky.