Chapter 513

In the dim main bridge, sand seeped in from the cracked observation window, piling into undulating dunes on the control panel; streaks of crimson light pierced the sand curtain, staining floating dust into a blood mist, while on the floor below lay a withered corpse, its gray-white skin clinging tightly to bone like sun-dried leather, one withered hand still clawed into the emergency brake slot.

Wind howled outside the hull, the fine scraping of sand against metal never ceasing; a faint blue glow flickered on the information hub interface, a sharply angular drone clinging to the port, its abdominal signal light pulsing regularly.

Far away in the shelter room, Lin Xian removed his optical mask, his face as still as submerged water, leaning back in the corner as his fingers tapped lightly on his knees.

“Teacher Chen led the Skytrain north to assist in rescuing the rail convoy, while Noah landed at Hake to meet the Dawn Center coming from the north—but now Hake has fallen, Noah is stranded, and we don’t even know if the Dawn Center made it through the crimson zone of South America…”

Lin Xian’s gaze flickered, and he murmured, “Kiki and Director Ding…”

The crimson world beyond the viewport weighed heavily on Lin Xian’s heart; he had awakened from the sand wreckage—if Kiki and Director Ding had been with him, the only conclusion he could reach was that both had perished in this war.

Lin Xian took several deep breaths, reminding himself not to assume the worst yet—he now had a map and some information, so his priority was to find a way out of this place. After all, five-four days had passed since the last data update; he urgently needed fresh intelligence.

He rose at once, suppressing his chaotic thoughts, and with a fingertip flicked through the air—a black nanosuit rapidly enveloped his entire body.

“First, get out of here, find the city rail, and retrieve the Infinite…”

The Infinite had full internal life support, powerful weaponry, and heavy armor—Lin Xian’s greatest source of security. He couldn’t help recalling the early days of building the Infinite Train, that tiny, cramped Car No. 1, a steel fortress that had carried him through countless dangers.

Wuuu~

Several transport drones lifted the cargo containers Lin Xian had manufactured; ahead, the “Dragon Girl” fired a high-energy cutting beam that sliced a clean opening in the hull wall, then the entire section slid away, crashing into the sandpit and kicking up a cloud of dust.

Lin Xian leapt down, his thrusters slowing his descent; then countless small drones surged forth, forming a 300-meter-diameter sentinel array around him, monitoring for danger in real time.

Visibility in the crimson zone was extremely limited; the swirling crimson masses drifted like living things—sometimes allowing glimpses farther out, other times thickening until only meters ahead were visible, inducing a suffocating sense of oppression.

Lin Xian opened his map, using the faint black coastline in the distance as a reference, then began cautiously advancing alone through the yellow sands.

…

On the southern coast of Hake, yellow sands stretched for a thousand li; strange crimson vortices flickered in and out among the dunes. Far off, four ground-skimming motorcycles raced against the gale, each rider clad in custom night-walker windproof capes, beneath which lay full-body powered armor with fluid metallic contours—though these high-tech suits were now battered and scarred by the desert.

Beside them, one figure flew without a vehicle, streaking at high speed, his flight stirring violent air currents that whipped up clouds of sand from the ground.

Zzzt…

At that moment, the lead rider on the motorcycle opened a comm channel.

“We have only two hours. Area 34 is near Noah—we must withdraw before the Sky Canopy sweeps over. If we trigger a Hunter, avoid it if possible and act only when the moment is right—above all, don’t provoke the Crimson Tide!”

“The closer we get to Noah, the more unpredictable its sweeping pattern may become—the Hunters will be more numerous,” came a female voice over the channel.

Vrrrm!

Behind them, a heavy motorcycle roared closer, and its burly rider spoke up: “If there are no more than two, we take them out—perfect chance to test the new weapons!”

“No!” the lead rider replied. “Our mission is to find people. The crimson energy here is too strong—besides the Sky Canopy, at least two S-class entities are still lurking in the sea or beneath the coastal sands. If we rouse them, we won’t even make it back to our safehouse.”

“Exactly,” added the man with a massive sniper rifle and a specialized mechanical arm. “Don’t be reckless, Aron. We’re reconnaissance, not frontline troops. Stay sharp.”

“Heh, I’m just curious about the new dark-energy weapons~” Aron replied.

The lead rider turned his head toward the flying figure beside them and said, “Kiki, your movements yesterday were too loud. I understand you’re desperate to save lives, but don’t tear open storm clouds again. We’re all curious about what’s sweeping across the sky—but you only get one life. Stay cautious!”

“Understood.”

A faint voice responded over the channel, low and subdued. The figure flying close to the ground was Kiki; within her powered armor’s HUD, her gaze fixed intently on the navigation beacon, edged with urgency.

Area 34 was a designated sector within the Hake battlefield, formerly the position of the 27th Regiment of the Third Intercontinental Force, where over eleven vessels had crashed, leaving wreckage scattered everywhere.

Klong! Klong!

“Magnetic lock secured. Ten o’clock, seven meters deep,” said Captain Lei Meng, blue electric arcs flickering across his armored palm; beneath his magnetic disturbance, a twisted metallic hull outline emerged from the dune.

“Albatross-class transport vessel, belonging to the Third Logistics Fleet of the 27th Regiment.”

Recon specialist Song Wei knelt on one knee, pressing her palm against the scorching sand; an invisible resonance wave spread from her center. After several seconds, her brow furrowed: “Weak life signatures remain inside the hull—form unidentifiable… something left recently—or… it’s still inside!”

Li Site, the sniper, shouldered a heavy Gauss rifle nearly his own height; his voice crackled through his mask: “Probability analysis shows a 99.7% chance of non-human target—highest likelihood of a monster, Boss. What’s the call?”

Lei Meng glanced at Kiki and said at once: “Standard Federation starship cryo-pods carry strong signal beacons. If it’s still active, we’ll detect it within range.”

His meaning was clear: if Lin Xian were still alive, his cryo-pod must be operational—no human could survive for weeks sealed in a coffin without power. Since no beacon signal was detected on this transport vessel, Lin Xian was not aboard.

Of course, he didn’t state it as absolute.