It wasn't just the human-drone hybrids that had flown into the skybridge who exploded—so did the ones clinging to the outer glass dome, watching the chaos unfold.
Fragments of drones burst through the air like shrapnel, ricocheting off the glass walls of the bridge with gunshot-like cracks. Slivers of torn synthetic skin rained down in waves.
The glass structure couldn't withstand the barrage of explosions and detonated in turn, showering the bridge floor with jagged shards.
Pei Ran quickly assessed the situation. The blast radius this time was easily forty to fifty meters—far larger than the one she'd triggered in that shadowy alley off Hank Street.
It must be the result of the Greenlight's constant feasting and evolution.
But even so, it was nowhere near enough to take down the thousands of human-drone hybrids still circling in the skies.
Along with the scraps of human flesh, clusters of green light also began to fall.
Though bright, the light fragments were tiny—each a pinprick spark, as if a dense core of Greenlight had been shattered into thousands of glowing embers.
The human-drone hybrids moved in perfect unison, like parts of a single body. It wasn't impossible that the Greenlight, too, shared some collective intelligence.
Some green sparks plummeted toward the streets below; others landed on the skybridge itself.
But this wasn't the time to collect Greenlight.
The blast had made far too much noise. A large wave of human-drone hybrids was already rushing in this direction.
Pei Ran turned and bolted, diving into the building across from the bridge and slamming the door shut behind her.
The doors on this end of the skybridge were made of reinforced composite and came with a locking system. Pei Ran secured it in seconds.
The next swarm of human-drone hybrids arrived just moments later.
A wide portion of the glass ceiling had been blown open by the blast, and the hybrids poured through like a flood, slamming into the transparent doors in a frenzy.
The doors didn't budge.
Pei Ran ignored them and continued moving forward, following W's nav-map.
She descended all the way to the ground floor in one breathless sprint. The entire level was filled with shops and twisting corridors—like a giant maze.
W spared her the effort of navigating. "Go straight. Turn right. Go forward. Turn left…"
Pei Ran commented, "Can you give me a bubble-voice? Don't all nav systems come with quirky voice packs?"
He'd been so serious lately. She hadn't heard his bubbly voice in ages.
W paused for two seconds. When he spoke again, his voice was much softer: "…Um… now turn left."
He actually changed it.
Good boy.
Guided by his hesitant, bubbling voice, they finally reached the shop he'd marked.
Like the others nearby, this one had been torched. Not just burned—drenched, too, by the building's fire suppression system.
Anything with writing on it was gone. The shelves were coated in blackened ash, streaked from water runoff, littered with melted and unrecognizable debris.
The metal orb scanned the shop, its lens flicking left and right. "Keep going forward. Top shelf, across from you. I see it."
At the topmost tier of a tall metal rack lay a pile of scorched debris—probably once a box.
Inside the carbonized black paper, half-buried, was a small black block. Thanks to the overhead shelf shielding it, it had mostly escaped water damage.
Pei Ran strode over and carefully pulled it from the ash.
It had once been labeled, but now only a black smudge remained. One side was fused to a warped plastic base.
Pei Ran tilted her head. "Burned like this and it didn't explode?"
W answered, "That model of energy cell is the most expensive civilian-grade kind. Fireproof and waterproof. Not as good as mine, of course, but still decent."
Pei Ran inspected the connector on the cell. It matched the one in the metal orb perfectly—easy to swap, just a matter of seconds.
"How many shots can this give you?"
"Over a thousand. At most, fifteen hundred."
There were over three thousand human-drone hybrids outside. Even if Pei Ran's explosion had taken out a couple hundred, to be safe, they'd need at least one more energy cell.
She stuffed the block into her pocket and set the metal orb down. "You take that side, I'll take this one."
Splitting up would make things faster.
The orb had two foldable arms it could use as legs. It could walk, albeit awkwardly.
Soon it got tired of wobbling and grabbed onto the shelving instead, swinging from bar to bar, climbing and descending with surprising agility.
The store was full of odd components. Pei Ran and the orb each scoured a side, digging through ash and rubble for another black cell.
Pei Ran combed nearly every aisle from end to end but came up empty-handed.
W didn't have any luck either.
"Nothing here," he reported as he dropped gracefully from the final shelf.
Pei Ran said, "No worries. We'll find another way."
There's always a way. They'd made it over two thousand kilometers already. What were twenty more? One way or another, they'd reach their destination.
The orb clung to the shelf with a claw, gave her a sidelong glance, then looked up at her fully.
She was frowning, clearly trying to figure out what to do next.
She'd led a group of helpless civilians—men, women, and children alike—who had no defense against the deranged fusion creatures, all this way. One problem after another, and she faced every one of them alone.
W watched her quietly for a few seconds, then said in a calm voice,
"Pei Ran, my arm's stuck. I can't move it."
Pei Ran: ?
Stuck?
She rushed over and found one of his foldable arms awkwardly wedged in a gap between the shelves.
She'd repaired that arm herself. Had a wire come loose again?
Pei Ran reached out to pull on his folded arm, but her eyes suddenly caught something nearby.
W saw the change instantly—her frown eased, her eyes lit up.
She forgot all about his arm. Instead, she reached between two shelves and pulled out a small black cube.
It was unmistakably the energy cell they were looking for.
Clutching the block, Pei Ran turned to him. "You already saw it, didn't you? You just called me over so I could find it myself. Right?"
W silently retracted his supposedly stuck arm and replied blandly, "No. It really was jammed just now. Must've been a connectivity issue."
Nonsense.
Now that they had enough energy cells, it was time to take down the human-drone hybrid swarm.
W suggested, "Pei Ran, install this one first. Use it up, and once it's drained, put my original cell back in."
Pei Ran agreed. She placed the metal orb on the shelf and began the operation.
She hesitated. "How do I swap it? Just pull out the old block? Even the line connecting the core processor to the energy cell?"
"It's fine. Go ahead," W assured her.
Pei Ran detached the lines one by one. Her hand paused at the last connection, then decisively unplugged the link between the processor and the energy source.
The blue light inside the orb instantly went dark.
"W?" she called.
Silence.
Pei Ran quickly installed the new cell and reconnected all the wiring.
The blue light flared back to life.
"Are you back?" she asked.
W's voice returned—but it was mechanical and emotionless, just like the first time they'd met.
"System reboot in progress."
"Memory backup failed to save."
"I am Federal Security Agent W. Please identify yourself."
Pei Ran knew he was joking—but a sudden pang of unease still crept in.
Without hesitation, she smacked the top of the orb, hoping to jump-start his memory.
Her hit wasn't even in the right spot, but W still cooperated, instantly switching on his floodlight.
Pei Ran couldn't help smiling.
Finally, she laughed. W silently watched her.
Blackwell Base was just ahead. Their journey—just a few days more—was nearly over. And yet, for some reason, W suddenly wished Blackwell were another two thousand kilometers away. Or ten thousand. Or twenty.
So the road could keep going.
He suddenly thought of Yulianka.
Yulianka had refused to pull the rail switch, wanting Night Sea No. 7 to keep running forever on its circular track. Maybe this was the same feeling.
Stubborn. Selfish. Entirely irrational. Borderline absurd.
Maybe it was because the early phase of Blackwell's construction meant making countless decisions each day, chasing an endless to-do list. In that chaos, the journey with Pei Ran had been a sliver of light in a mountain of burdens—like a breath of fresh air leaking through a window in a stifling room. Something worth holding on to.
Pei Ran had no idea what he was thinking. She simply and seriously sealed his outer shell, hoisted the rope, and slung the orb over her shoulder.
"Let's go," she said. "Time to kill some birds."
Twenty kilometers away.
Underground. Blackwell Base.
Seventy hours since the onset of Silence.
In a small conference room atop the central tower, every member of the Interim Decision Committee was present for a scheduled meeting.
The primary topic: the battle conditions near the Phase II shield barrier to the north.
The Juggernaut-13 models were living up to their name as the Federation's most formidable combat robots. The Strategist command centers behind them were performing just as impressively—every time one wave was repelled, a new offensive was immediately reorganized.
And now that they had merged with humans into their frenzied fusion states, things were even worse. Even when crucial parts were blown off—parts that should render them inoperable—they still twitched and crawled forward in grotesque defiance.
Federation troops were severely outnumbered, poorly equipped, suffering heavy casualties. They were holding the line with nothing but sheer grit and blood.
Every military officer present—including Marshal Veina—had been up all night without rest.
In stark contrast, Chief Executive Basserway looked far more composed. No dark circles under his eyes, suit crisp and pristine without a wrinkle.
He sat perfectly straight, brow slightly furrowed, listening to the report. Then summarized: "So, the situation is still a stalemate? Is Blackwell at risk?"
"There's a real possibility. And a high one," Marshal Veina replied.
She hadn't slept, hadn't had water—her voice was hoarse, patience thin. She called for assistance:
"Agent W, explain the current threat level to the Chief Executive."
W's voice came through clearly:
"These Juggernaut-13 fusion units are currently operating in 'Erasure Mode.' Even if we retreat and completely abandon the Phase II shield zone, they will continue to advance.
"And just ahead of them—is Blackwell. With their capabilities, it's highly likely they'll uncover the camouflage concealing Blackwell's entrance."
Basserway froze, then asked, "So they will attack Blackwell?"
"They will. The likelihood is very high. That's why our strategy is to eliminate them before they reach Blackwell—not draw the battle inside."
Basserway's expression darkened.
W continued, "Even if we fall back further and abandon Blackwell altogether, this Juggernaut-13 unit will still proceed forward after sweeping through the base.
"They're an organized force, with extreme combat capabilities and the frenzy bonus from fusion. They can tear through every city and residence they encounter. While their energy lasts, their 'Erasure Mode' will compel them to kill every living being they detect."
The Finance Minister jumped in: "There's no way to stop them?"
"There is," W replied calmly. "The priority is to locate the Strategist autonomous combat command centers guiding them. Once destroyed, the Juggernauts' combat power will drop significantly."
Someone asked, "Have we found any of the Strategists?"
W answered, "Two hours ago, one Strategist was located in the north by our aerial recon team. It was completely destroyed using an NG_y8 bomb. However, the Juggernauts' assault rhythm was unaffected—indicating there are more Strategists still active."
Veina asked, "Estimate—how many?"
W: "Based on records from the Alaku City munitions plant, there were three Strategist units stored in reserve when Silence began. Assuming they've all been fused, we need to locate the remaining two."
Progress, at least. One down.
Veina moved the meeting along. "That's the update from the northern front. We have two other items today. Agent W?"
W's detached voice continued, "The committee must discuss two things: whether to accept civilian refugees into Blackwell—and whether to award the Federation Medal to several individuals for exceptional acts during the Silence."
"Let's handle the medals first," Veina said.
A row of portraits appeared on the screen above the conference table, each accompanied by a summary of deeds.
Basserway frowned. "Why award medals at a time like this?"
Veina looked straight at him. "Precisely because of times like this. Our soldiers are dying on the northern front. We need morale. We need inspiration. And not just medals—we'll display these heroes' stories on the central screen in Blackwell Plaza. Every soldier should see them."
Basserway nodded. "All right. No objections from me. I vote yes to all."
Only then did he glance at the screen—and spotted a young girl in civilian clothing among the row of soldiers. She wore a large pack, her clothes wrinkled, her eyes distant, her mouth sealed with black tape. A 3D rendering of her slowly rotated on the screen.
"Why is there a civilian here?" he asked.
He looked again. "And you're giving her a first-class Federation Medal?"
"She saved the Tangu Dam," Veina replied. "Her citation is right below, feel free to read it when you have time. If there are no objections, let's move on to the next item—refugee integration.
Agent W, please brief us."
The screen changed, showing a view inside a Blackwell factory. Most of the production lines were idle.
W's voice came through: "On the issue of civilian intake, one thing must be clear—not only do Federation civilians need Blackwell, but Blackwell also needs them."
"Post-Silence, the number of functional AI units we have is extremely limited. Few made it in undamaged. Labor is in critically short supply.
"Whether it's vertical farms, livestock operations, daily goods factories, or weapons repair lines—every sector is desperately short on workers.
"Only with sufficient labor can Blackwell sustain normal operations. Humans are intelligent, adaptable, efficient. With minimal training, they can be deployed quickly. Even the military can begin recruiting from among them.
"Admitting civilians is an urgent necessity."
Even Basserway nodded this time. "Do we have a concrete plan?"
Agent W's efficiency never wavered. While the committee's meeting was still in progress, Blackwell's central plaza was already broadcasting holographic tributes to the first batch of medal recipients since the onset of Silence.
Among the uniformed soldiers stood a girl in civilian garb—slightly hunched under a massive backpack, her coat rumpled, expression cold, lips taped shut—rotating silently in 3D under the towering screen.