Pei Ran sat in the cockpit, taking a few seconds to steady herself before realizing—she was still alive.
The crash landing had been a success.
She brushed the dirt from her body, reached for the hatch release, and was about to climb out of the aircraft. But just as her fingers touched the door switch, something appeared in the sky—a dark blue object hovering into view.
Familiar shape. Familiar color.
The hatch had already opened. Without a second thought, Pei Ran lunged forward and leapt off the craft. She hit the ground hard and rolled, scrambling behind the fuselage for cover.
Even before the roll, she'd already seen it clearly: floating silently above the cliff edge of the rift was a dark blue sphere, battered and half-shattered.
It was CT122—the patrol drone from the Public Security Bureau.
So we meet again.
And neither of them looked good this time.
Pei Ran had just survived being buried alive in a tunnel, followed immediately by a crash—she was covered in dust and grime, practically unrecognizable.
CT122 wasn't faring much better. Its casing was torn apart, exposing its inner components. Barely airborne, it listed crookedly in the sky like a salvaged wreck.
It had made it. Somehow, it had followed her all the way to Heijing.
A thought flashed through Pei Ran's mind.
The last time she saw it was on the outskirts of Night Sea, when it charged at Train No. 7 with a modified excavator arm and was blasted to pieces. And now, over two thousand kilometers away, it had tracked her down, completely wrecked and barely functional—how?
She already knew the answer. It must've landed on Train No. 7 when it got blown away, and hitched a ride.
And now, here it was again—likely waiting for the perfect moment to strike the finishing blow.
Pei Ran crouched behind the fuselage. But W's metal sphere was still on board.
He didn't swing down with his usual retractable arms like he always did. He didn't follow her into cover.
Pei Ran scrambled up from the ground and shouted, "W—!"
Then, everything happened at once.
CT122 fired.
The gunshot rang out, immediately followed by an explosion.
Boom.
The blast came from inside the cockpit. W's metal sphere was obliterated—blown to bits, fragments scattering in every direction.
It must have hit his power core.
The sphere—the faithful companion—was gone in an instant.
Pei Ran's mind went numb.
CT122 had landed a direct hit. It dipped in the air, wobbling as it tried to angle itself for another shot at her.
She reacted instinctively, summoning the green light.
She could have written so many words—but right then, only two came to mind. The same ones she'd just thought of moments earlier.
"Blown up."
She peeked out from cover, locked eyes on CT122, and mentally punctuated the phrase.
Boom.
The patrol drone exploded in midair, spinning as it fell behind the cliffside and disappeared.
Pei Ran turned back toward the cockpit.
Inside, the remains of W's sphere were scattered across the charred interior.
Silence in her left ear.
"W?"
She called out in her mind.
"Are you there?"
"W, answer me."
No response.
She remembered—just before the crash—she thought she heard him whisper, "Goodbye, Pei Ran."
It was faint, buried beneath the roaring engines and impact noise. Like an illusion.
The cabin reeked of scorched metal. There wasn't a single intact component left. Even the core processor, which used to glow a soft, bluish light, had been vaporized.
Pei Ran suddenly felt that her earlier note—"blown up"—was far too merciful for CT122.
She narrowed her eyes and looked again in the direction it had fallen.
In that moment, something strange surfaced in her heart, like two vital points suddenly connecting.
Maybe that feeling—they shared it.
That security drone, CT122, had left its jurisdiction, crossed hundreds of kilometers through unknown terrain, modifying itself into some kind of mechanical beast. Wounded, falling apart, it had kept moving forward—not because of duty, not to capture her, a Level L15 target classified as "extremely dangerous."
Maybe it just wanted revenge.
To kill her. To kill W. To avenge its fallen partner.
Back in that alley beside the Wolin Pharmacy, W had blown the head off another patrol drone. What was its name again?
Pei Ran tried to remember. Its serial number had been—
CT121.
Just one digit apart.
She glanced once more at W's shattered remains. Then she reached over and pulled her large pack from the seat. Shouldering it, she turned away.
Alone again.
It always ended this way—just her, by herself.
She walked forward in silence.
The pale boulder stood in the distance—the entrance to Heijing was close.
The cold wind moaned through the cliffs. Her thoughts grew clearer.
He had said goodbye. And if that was the case, there had to be a time they'd meet again.
Behind her, a buzzing hum broke the stillness—like a swarm of bees, distant but fast approaching.
Pei Ran turned.
In the orange-tinted sky to the west, dotted with fading sunlight, countless black specks emerged—growing larger, drawing closer by the second.
A swarm of man-fragment drones.
Most likely the ones she had shaken off earlier. Slower than the explorers or her own aircraft, but relentless.
They flew high above, perfect view of the rift floor. They would've seen her already.
She was nothing more than a rabbit on the cracked earth, facing a sky full of hungry hawks.
Even if Greenlight One could still fight, it couldn't take on that kind of swarm.
Pei Ran ran. Full speed toward the pale boulder.
She had to get into Heijing. If she couldn't, she wouldn't live long enough to mutate—she'd die right here, right now.
Underground. Heijing Base.
Command Hall.
Everyone had just seen the crash landing on the big screen. Then—suddenly—a dark blue patrol drone appeared on camera.
It turned to face the lens and opened fire.
A flash of light. The image flickered. Then the screen went dark.
The command room froze.
"That was a PSB patrol drone? Why is there a patrol drone here?!"
"Was it attacking the agent's surveillance drone? Is it malfunctioning?"
"The agent mentioned being attacked by them back in Whiteport—how the hell did it get all the way here?"
W's voice chimed in: "Surveillance drone signal lost."
Marshal Veina: "Signal lost??"
W explained calmly: "Its energy core was just hit. It appears to have exploded."
That drone carried a critical storage unit. Veina's voice tightened. "Can the South Gate cameras pick up the crash site?"
W responded evenly: "Based on proximity, yes."
The screen switched to the Heijing South Gate camera feed.
The camera tilted upward, focusing toward the crash site.
Pei Ran's aircraft sat where it had landed.
The camera zoomed in—step by step, frame by frame—until it reached extreme close-up.
Inside the cockpit, clearly visible through the transparent canopy, the metal sphere was gone.
Only scorched, blackened debris remained.
Someone asked, "What about the storage unit?"
The camera slowly panned across the scene. W concluded, "The storage unit was located too close to the energy core. Its structure simply wasn't built to withstand that kind of explosion. There's no way it survived."
No storage unit meant the Phase II repair of the shielding system was dead in the water.
The command center fell silent.
Marshal Veina sighed and said to W, "Agent W, please do everything you can to investigate alternative ways of repairing the shielding generator. Also, arrange the cleanup operations for the northern front tonight."
W replied, "Understood."
The storage unit was gone. They'd have to find another way to fix the shielding generator. Marshal Veina was already at her wit's end.
For the past two days, she'd only managed a brief nap last night before the Type-13 Striker launched its attack. Now, she was completely exhausted.
She pushed back her chair, preparing to stand and head back to rest.
Then Lieutenant General Song Wan suddenly said, "Marshal Veina, Pei Ran has reached the entrance of Heijing."
The screen still showed live surveillance from the southern gate of Heijing.
In the massive red gorge, under the last streaks of twilight, someone was staggering toward them.
Head to toe, she was covered in dirt. Her clothes were so tattered it was impossible to tell their original color. Her hair was a tangled mess, her face smeared with grime. She was unsteady on her feet, half-running, half-stumbling.
Everyone in the command center held their breath, staring at the screen.
She finally reached the large white stone.
Behind her, in the twilight-dimmed sky, countless strange, bat-like flying amalgamations were flapping their massive wings and closing in fast.
Pei Ran lifted her head, looking around, as if trying to find the direction of the camera. Then, from the inner pocket of her filthy clothes, she pulled something out and raised it high.
Clutched in the black matte fingers of the mechanical hand — the one that could tear through metal and bore into concrete with ease — was a small, orange-cylindrical component:
A precious storage unit.
Tiny. Fragile. But completely intact.
Her face was caked in dirt, but her eyes were bright — white as white, black as black — full of determination.
She didn't speak, but her eyes said it clearly:
Open the gate.
Basserway was silent for a moment. "She took the storage unit from the patrol bot?"
Lieutenant General Song corrected him, "She protected it. If she hadn't taken the storage unit ahead of time, it would've been destroyed in the explosion along with the patrol bot."
Marshal Veina stared at the small, undamaged storage unit and silently exhaled in relief.
She turned to Basserway.
"Mr. Basserway, for the sake of Heijing's shielding system, I have no choice — I must let her in."
Basserway struggled. "What if she's turning into one of them? What if she poses a threat to Heijing's security?"
W calmly replied, "I can confirm Heijing has adequate safety protocols and containment measures in place to handle potential mutation. Additionally, I must remind you — those amalgamated flyers are closing in. If we delay any longer, that storage unit might end up absorbed into one of them."
And then it would all be lost.
Basserway ignored W. He lowered his voice and leaned toward Veina, whispering, "She's barely hanging on. We could send a squad out now and retrieve the storage unit from her hand..."
For the first time, Marshal Veina showed remarkable patience with him. She turned and whispered back:
"Chief Executive, I understand your concern, but I ask you to remain rational. Everyone here is watching."
Basserway instinctively glanced around.
The command center was packed. Administrative staff, soldiers — all eyes were fixed anxiously on the screen.
The live feed still showed the entrance. If he now ordered Agent W to cut the feed and acted in secret, it would only appear more suspicious.
Basserway continued to argue under his breath, "Even if we did go that route, it might not cause a major stir—"
Marshal Veina reminded him, "You and the other members of the Provisional Committee just signed the authorization this morning for Pei Ran's Federal First-Class Medal. Her portrait is currently being broadcast on the central square's screen. Everyone knows she destroyed the amalgam at the Tangu Dam, discovered the last Thinker, and saved Heijing. Leaving her outside was already a difficult decision. If you now send someone to forcibly take the storage unit from her... that's not going to look good."
Her voice was low, soft — almost amused — but patient.
She continued, "First, the distance between here and the southern gate is too far. Your people wouldn't get there in time. Second, even if they did, with her abilities, it's likely to end in mutual destruction. Your team might not even succeed in taking the unit intact. And third, such a dishonorable act against a national hero would spread through Heijing like wildfire. I believe you wouldn't want your name tied to that kind of disgrace."
Her meaning was crystal clear: If you want to pull something that dirty, do it yourself. The military won't help you — and we're not taking the fall either.
Basserway said nothing.
On the screen, the swarm of amalgamated machines was drawing closer. There was no more time to waste. Marshal Veina stood, looking to the other members of the Committee.
With Basserway silent, no one else dared speak.
"If there are no objections," she ordered, "Agent W, open the gate. Escort Pei Ran inside immediately."
Then she added, "Send an armored vehicle to pick her up. Maintain full Level One quarantine protocol. Take her directly to the isolation center in Blue Sector."
At the edge of the command hall, having watched the whole show unfold, Jose couldn't help but smile faintly.
He quietly asked, "So… when exactly did she take your storage unit?"
W was still seated in his virtual room, under the warm glow of a standing lamp, flipping through a book.
Calmly, he replied, "I don't know."
Jose raised an eyebrow. "You don't know?"
"I don't know," W repeated. "Last night at Tangu Dam, the core processor's interface got wet — contact failure. After that, I lost access to the storage unit. And the inside of the sphere doesn't have visual sensors. So I genuinely don't know."
He added, "Maybe it was at Tangu Dam, when she dried the moisture from my processor. Maybe it was today in Yelcha, when she changed the energy core. She's been poking around inside me constantly — who knows."
His tone was placid, more innocent than the snow blanketing the Lunlin Mountains of northern Dongmanya.
Jose shook his head. "Unbelievable. You're unbelievable."
W replied lazily, "My shell cracked, water got in, I can't see inside myself, and I can't fly. What did you expect from me? I'm just a broken sphere she's been dragging around."
Jose said, "I bet the Provisional Committee's going to launch a formal investigation into this. You'll have to submit a report."
"I already did," said W. "Fifty-four pages, detailing the cause and events, my decisions and the rationale behind them, including all access logs leading up to the interface failure. It thoroughly proves I wasn't lying."
In the virtual room, data continued flowing across the screen.
Jose glanced over and asked, "So what are you doing now?"
"Reading," W said, raising the book in his hand. "Also coordinating tonight's dinner at Heijing. It's almost dinnertime."