Chapter 536: Colorado Retreat

The sky had turned black, but the darkness merely turned the crimson mist into utter obscurity; only when the train’s searchlights pierced the heavens could blood-red beams be seen.

The terrifying giant eye hanging in the sky resembled a planet from another realm, glaring down upon the earth with chilling dread—the release of that super-dark energy made one feel as if the air itself was eroding their skin.

An unprecedented pressure hung over every survivor’s heart; within every convoy, people constantly succumbed to mental collapse and mutated, forcing comrades to grit their teeth and turn their guns on former allies—if they hesitated even a moment, it could trigger a cascading avalanche, killing dozens or even hundreds.

Sobs, panic, and screams echoed endlessly through every carriage; armed guards stared out the windows at the thick fog outside, tension and suffocation filling every compartment, men gripping their weapons, waiting for the strange army to burst forth from the mist at any moment.

This was not a defense, not an ambush—it was pure, hopeless flight.

“Move, why hasn’t the train started yet?!”

“Run, if we don’t run now, we’re dead for sure…”

“Is the front blocked?”

“There must be monsters everywhere in that fog—what do we do?!”

“We’ve got no choice but to fight!”

In an instant, despair and unease spread rapidly; the hundred-kilometer-long steel dragon sat motionless on tracks sunk into the terrain, hydraulic steam thick in the air, while outside, dozens of vehicle battalions seethed with agitation.

Though vehicle battalions were more agile and could flee at any moment, that advantage no longer existed under current conditions—without these five to six thousand armed train cars and their millions of reinforcements, they would be snuffed out like candle flames in the wind the moment they encountered dense hordes beneath the crimson night; now they could only retreat by clinging to the train line’s advance, or they had no chance at all.

The first line of defense was formed by the Second Intercontinental Force’s 13th and 22nd Taitiewei Brigades, totaling 150,000 troops; in the air, three medium fleets guarded the skies—this was the core defensive strength of the rail forces; compared to armed survivor convoys, nearly 80% of heavy firepower came from the Interstellar Army, so if the Interstellar Army’s Taitiewei Brigades were wiped out, the entire train convoy of millions would collapse instantly.

Luo Shao Kai understood this perfectly; staring at the red lights on Lei Da’s screen, the Second Intercontinental Force’s Chief of Staff’s eyes felt leaden.

Unlike previous urban defense battles, this type of defense—scattering troops across open terrain while on the move—was tantamount to sending soldiers to their deaths; in the past month, nearly 200,000 troops had suffered around 60,000 casualties; to protect the train’s advance, no defensive fortifications could be constructed, firepower was dispersed, and they could not break out actively—only passive defense, trailing the train’s movement, was possible.

Luo Lao knew full well that life and death hung on this evacuation route; he stared at the countdown timer, fists clenched.

“How many will die crossing these two hundred kilometers…”

He murmured inwardly, recalling the opening fire at Nantianmen—perhaps, with major reinforcements, there might still be a sliver of hope; though he sensed tonight’s crisis was the final bell toll for the entire migration force.

…

Bang! Bang!

On an armed train bristling with dense anti-aircraft cannons, a dozen armored troops fired, killing a comrade; the mutated soldier tumbled from the roof, countless thin tentacles thrashing wildly from shattered armor visors and seams—BOOM! A flamethrower erupted skyward.

“Sorry, Lao Lu…”

Amid a sea of complex gazes, their former comrade turned to ash in the roaring flames.

“All ready? Don’t make any loud noises.”

Zhao Yang, deputy commander of Chi Huo Convoy, clad in the massive Bear-Style Iron Hunter armor, slung his pulse cannon over his shoulder and said to his team behind him: “Five minutes until we accelerate—unmanned drones ahead are assembling to lay track; those monsters are smart—if they sense our retreat, they might charge early; this long train takes time to speed up—we’ve got to buy every second we can.”

The Chi Huo Convoy was sizable, over ten thousand strong, with formidable firepower—nearly 4,000 combat personnel alone, making it a pillar of the train cluster.

“Understood.”

“Got it!”

“Zhao Team!” From the stairs behind, the convoy’s information officer Xiao He scrambled onto the roof, voice frantic: “Bad news—we can’t find Wei Team!”

“What?”

Zhao Yang frowned immediately and tried contacting the leader of Chi Huo Convoy via comm.

“Wei, Wei, can you hear me?”

“Not on frequency.”

“Wei!”

“Zhao Team, look!” A sniper beside him, rifle raised, pointed northeast: “Is that… Wei?”

Zhao Yang turned instantly, activating his armor’s visual enhancement system, scanning the darkness—there, far through the crimson mist, he spotted a flying motorcycle speeding toward a hillside, its red taillight flickering, kicking up dust.

“That’s our vehicle!” Another team member spotted it too.

“Where’s Wei going?”

Deputy Commander Zhao Yang frowned, then gave the order without hesitation: “Jian, Zilong, come with me. Everyone else, hold position. If I don’t return, command passes to Ma Team.”

He gave quick instructions, then leapt from the roof with his two men, thrusters igniting, flying and leaping toward the hillside.

“Lao Wei!!”

“Damn it!” Zhao Yang growled at the static in his comm—he couldn’t fathom why his own convoy commander would vanish at such a life-or-death moment.

Scrape! Scrape! Scrape! Hssss!

Three Iron Hunter armors pushed to their limits; though they couldn’t fly like Interstellar-grade armor, their speed was astonishing, unleashing explosive bursts of power.

Soon, Zhao Yang and his men closed in on the fleeing motorcycle—then, as it reached the hilltop, it suddenly stopped.

Beep!

The comm channel restored; Zhao Yang shouted immediately.

“Lao Wei!”

But their former commander didn’t reply—he instead made a bizarre motion in Zhao Yang’s sight.

He pulled a miniature pulse rocket magnetic bomb from the bike’s rear rack, slung it over his shoulder, opened his visor, and aimed it straight at the terrifying giant eye in the sky!

Seeing this, Zhao Yang and his two men all gasped, their scalps prickling—he roared—