Chapter 88

In the distant blue-black sky beyond Loch City, an orange-yellow hue gradually emerged. Dawn was breaking, and the Aliens circled in the distant sky, their massive black bone wings flapping as they gazed at the human city.

It was still very early, almost the dead of night, but tens of thousands of people had already gathered at the city gate. They stood shoulder to shoulder in silence, gazing out, their mood shifting from watching a single execution to witnessing a salvation.

On the Frost Plains, Horne wore thin clothes and faced the cold wind. His hands were shackled behind his back with high-tensile cuffs as he stepped out from the North City Gate, one step at a time, into the endless snowfield, into the vast desolation.

Behind him were the remaining hundred thousand residents. His footprints stretched back through the snow, but there were no curses, no blame, no breakdowns—only quiet waiting, waiting for him to face extinction on behalf of humanity.

Horne remained silent the whole time, simply walking outward alone as Ganal had instructed him the night before, slowly approaching the group of Aliens hovering in midair.

In the distant sky, a black mass surged. At the forefront was an Alien with enormous bone wings. The moment Horne spotted it, he halted his steps and suddenly burst into laughter.

Ten years earlier, he had frantically hunted Alien nests just to find one particular Alien and kill it with his own hands. But over all those years, it never appeared. It carried all his hatred, yet it had vanished into the pale expanse.

Now, it was right before his eyes.

“The Aliens demand your life in exchange for a temporary halt to their offensive,” Ganal’s voice from the night before still echoed.

Horne, who had been sitting on a small bed, froze for a moment before laughing. He didn’t even know what to say at the time; he just found it amusing, ironic.

“I didn’t know I was that important.” Horne gave a feeble laugh, then grew heavy again.

“I knew you would go.” Ganal didn’t engage in much psychological maneuvering with Horne.

He would go. That was the kind of person Horne was.

The morning wind blew, biting cold.

He had fantasized about his death many times, most often dying in battle against the Aliens on the battlefield. But none of those scenarios involved being framed by humans, sentenced to death, and handed over to the Aliens he hated most for them to dispose of, all in exchange for a slim chance of survival.

It was bleak; even his last shred of dignity had been stripped away. If he fled now, what would happen to the city behind him? With these thoughts, Horne’s mouth twitched powerlessly as he continued forward.

Ganal understood him, knew that even at the last moment, he would choose to perish for humanity.

The ice and snow froze everything, leaving only his solitary figure trudging alone. His shoes crunched against the surface, and the quiet wind tore at his skin.

He looked up and stared at the black mass in the distance. When they saw him stop, they dove from midair straight toward him.

Horne worried about only one thing: if he died and the Aliens reneged, what would happen to the city behind him? But whether he went today or not, it was already the end of his life. If he didn’t gamble that they wouldn’t go back on their word, what else could he do?

He had just taken a step forward.

“Horne!!!”

From not far behind, at the city gate, came a heart-wrenching shout.

Accompanying the shout was a series of upheavals.

The roar of a snowmobile’s engine exploded as it floored the accelerator, its low rumble growing louder as it sped toward Horne’s position.

Bang! The massive crack of a laser gun echoed across the snowfield, flashes streaking through the air. The shots flew past Horne and struck the Alien group ahead, hitting several on the spot. In the instant the particles dissipated, the other Aliens took to the air.

Had the humans reneged? They no longer wanted to hand Horne over?

Bone wings trembled. Sensing the humans’ breach of agreement, the Aliens charged straight toward the city gate.

Horne’s expression changed.

Within three seconds of the first gunshot, the Aliens scattered into the sky.

“Prepare for battle!” someone shouted.

Gunfire rapidly spread. It started with the soldiers at the gate defending passively, then snowmobiles with armor rolled out. Two minutes later, fighter jets descended from the sky.

Explosions rang out once more.

“What’s going on? Who fired first?” The general roared from behind his terminal.

They had no intention of starting this battle; they only planned to hand Horne over for a brief peace. No one knew how the chaos had escalated into a bloodbath.

Amid the bombardment and screams, the residents who had gathered at the gate to watch Horne get dragged away by the Aliens were forced into the defense. But most had never truly faced Aliens before. After firing blindly without knowing if they hit humans or Aliens, they fled in panic.

The situation turned dire in an instant.

An Alien flew toward Horne. Almost on instinct, he dodged, twisting his back to it and diving into the snow. He sprang up immediately, evading another attack. Even with his hands shackled, it didn’t hinder his agility.

Tires crushed heavily over the snow. That snowmobile barreled through the crowd, past the Aliens’ attacks, and screeched to a halt in front of Horne. As the door flew open, the person inside shouted, “Horne! Get in!”

Horne froze for a moment as another Alien rushed at him.

“Hurry!!”

Bang! The door slammed shut, and the snowmobile floored it, darting away like a cheetah.

Inside the vehicle, Horne’s heart pounded so hard he thought it would burst.

An ordinary snowmobile weaved at high speed through the firefight, past exploding snow, people’s screams, Alien roars—all lifted into the sky by laser bombardment.

Horne’s mouth hung open, his breathing ragged. He stared intently outside and asked, “What… what is…”

He didn’t even know whether to ask what had happened or where they were going.

Ben Yian gripped the steering wheel tightly, his muscles taut, fully focused as he circled around the gate from the snowfield, through the north side to the south, then plunged into Loch City through the long-collapsed southern city ruins.

“Where are we going?” Horne asked, his throat hoarse, voice tight. His heart thumped wildly. He could see Aliens diving from above, and behind them, a scene of carnage.

“To save you and get you out.” Ben Yian’s answer was straightforward.

Save him and get him out—but humanity’s city ended here. Now that they had saved him, where could he go?

“But…” Horne started to speak but was cut off.

“At least, you can’t die at the Aliens’ hands!” Ben Yian roared. The rearview mirror showed his face ashen.

Horne frowned, then fell silent.

He thought Ben Yian understood his hatred for the Aliens, his principles, and the humiliation of his death sentence from Ganal’s government. Only a friend would empathize.

But what then?

War raged outside, with people too busy saving themselves. The vehicle sped on, dodging attacks, and stopped in a familiar ruin.

A makeshift spiral staircase had been rigged up at the Main Control Tower. Two sets of footsteps hurried up it.

The distant artillery fire never ceased, its sound reaching the Main Control Tower. Horne paused on the steps.

“Hurry!” Ben Yian urged him.

Horne didn’t want to return to this place. Even seeing the Main Control Tower made his heart catch in his throat.

“This is the safest spot right now. They would never think to look here.”

The place where it all began—if Horne had fled, no one would imagine he’d come here.

Half of the control room in the tower had collapsed. When the two squeezed into the interior space, Horne froze, forgetting to breathe for a moment.

Several people were already hiding there: two leaning against the wall, two sitting on the ground, two in chairs. As Horne and Ben Yian entered, they all turned to look—people Horne didn’t recognize, except for their military uniforms.

People from the Military District? Why were they hiding here instead of up front?

“Colonel, hello,” one said seriously, nodding slightly to Horne. “We’ve been discussing your rescue.”

He paused before continuing, “We don’t agree with handing you over to the Aliens.”

Ben Yian panted and shot him a look. The man immediately stood, offering his chair and dragging it behind Horne. “Colonel, please sit.”

Horne frowned and hesitated. Ben Yian explained, “They’re old friends of mine. Rest for a bit. I’ll check the situation.”

Thud!

Thud!

Again that muffled sound. Horne’s gaze swept the room in an instant. Within a second, the gunfire outside drowned it out. It was hard to tell if it was an explosion or distant thunder.

Ben Yian walked in front of Horne’s seat, passed him, and faced the deafening artillery outside for a few silent seconds. He sighed. “Him? He’s probably watching you too.” His voice was light, fading into the dusty air.

“What do you mean?”

Thud! Thud!

Click.

Horne’s face changed instantly.

He knew that sound well—the snap of high-tensile mechanical cuffs.

Around his ankles. He had been shackled to the chair.