How could there be a tree in the Base’s desolate underground?
Ye Jingqiu stared fixedly at it, struck by an inexplicable sense of familiarity.
She wasted no more time hesitating. Sidling sideways, she slipped carefully through the narrow gap in the door.
As she turned, the space before her opened up into a vast underground stone hall. Towering pillars in the Corinthian style stretched nearly to the heavens, their capitals adorned with acanthus leaves that resembled baskets overflowing with flowers and foliage, evoking the lively image of a Greek youth brimming with vitality.
Ye Jingqiu ran her fingers over the delicate, ornate carvings, curiosity stirring within her. She had an odd knack for knowledge beyond her textbooks. Greek temples favored solemn, unadorned column styles, which made the more elaborate Corinthian order a natural favorite among the Romans, who appreciated its lavish, exuberant decorations.
So the senior who had built this temple must have been a Roman. According to the Captain, the heterodimensional space housing the Base had been created in 219 BC, and this Divine Temple was a century or two younger. By then, ancient Greece was merely a province in the sprawling Roman Empire.
But what was the point of dwelling on it? These were events from over two thousand years ago.
Ye Jingqiu shook her head, banishing the stray thought of timelines, and cautiously scanned the Divine Temple as she made her way toward the tree in the distance.
At the heart of the temple lay a spacious central hall, its ceiling soaring impossibly high. Flanking the main axis were row upon row of identical stone chambers, divided off with no labels or signs—secretive and deliberately disorienting. Only members of the Center Group knew what lay stored in each one.
The stone doors bore carvings reminiscent of the Base’s defensive talisman array. Ye Jingqiu knew they served as one layer of “Lock-On.”
Items classified at the highest levels of confidentiality were always guarded by two doors: the rune formation-etched stone portal and, beyond it, an ultra-thick steel barrier even more secure than a bank vault.
It was a masterpiece of pure mechanical engineering, unlinked to Aether and impervious to remote control, relying solely on mechanical locks and leaf mechanisms. Sandwiched between its double layers of fireproof steel plating were electrostatic explosives—anyone attempting unauthorized access would find both the contents destroyed and themselves obliterated. When Ye Jingqiu had first heard about it, she couldn’t help thinking it embodied a brutal philosophy: if I can’t have it, no one will.
None of that mattered to her now. Her eyes swept past the high-security stone chambers and fixed on the colossal tree looming at the far end of the Divine Temple.
With no soil, no water, no nutrients, it was impossible to fathom how a tree could have grown to such staggering proportions. Its trunk was at least ten meters in diameter, the rough, brownish bark shooting straight upward. Ye Jingqiu couldn’t even make out the canopy, only glimpsing the pale, sword-like leaves thrust inverted against the trunk.
The tree filled nearly half the Divine Temple, as immense as the Building Wood Fuxi had scaled in ancient myths. Climb it, and who knew? She might actually reach the Heavenly Court where immortals dwelled.
Ye Jingqiu brushed her hand against the bark and felt, to her surprise, a faint moistness. She racked her brain, wondering if the Captain had ever mentioned this tree in Kazni Hall. It was absurd: in this waterless, oxygen-starved, frigid underground, something like this had taken root and thrived.
Then came a faint scraping sound from above, as soft as falling leaves. Ye Jingqiu looked up on instinct, and her pupils dilated in shock.
A black shadow!
A soft, barely audible chuckle echoed in the next instant. Before she could draw her gun, the shadow leaped down and slammed her straight to the ground.
Thud—
There was no chance to fight back. Ye Jingqiu crashed down in front of the trunk with a heavy thud. An ice-cold, pallid hand clamped around her throat, sealing her windpipe. Breathing became a desperate struggle in a heartbeat.
“Gah… gah…”
Suffocation clawed at her nerves. Ye Jingqiu forced out ragged gasps of agony as her lungs heaved like a punctured bellows, straining for even a whisper of air against the unyielding grip.
Her struggles were futile. Both hands seized the frozen fingers, every ounce of her strength poured into prying them loose. She raked three bloody furrows across the back of the hand, but the intruder might as well have been a wooden mannequin for all the pain she registered, her grip unrelenting as she squeezed the life from her prey.
The resistance provoked a response. The intruder hoisted Ye Jingqiu up and slammed the near-unconscious Awakener against the trunk. Ye Jingqiu snapped at her foe, the effort reopening the gunshot wound in her arm.
No one noticed the few drops of Ye Jingqiu’s blood that smeared onto the tree.
Oxygen fled her body, blood saturation plummeting. Her respiratory system felt shredded under the crushing pressure, and in the throes of suffocation, blood welled at her mouth and nose.
She had been too careless, too reckless—venturing inside without her gun despite knowing an intruder might be about. Half a year of training in hand-to-hand combat and firearms under the Captain had honed her skills, but in the world of Awakeners, she was still leagues from true power.
The gun! Right!
One hand clutched at the intruder for a precious moment’s reprieve while the other fumbled wildly for her weapon.
Blood trickled slowly from her ears and nose. She’d nearly worn through the back of her clothes against the rough bark, but that pain paled against the torment of asphyxiation. The intruder showed no mercy, tightening her vise grip incrementally, intent on strangling the life out of her.
Bang!
The gunshot cracked like thunder. A bullet tore through the intruder’s chest. The massive recoil jolted both women, and the throttling hand fell limp.
Air rushed back in. Ye Jingqiu gulped it down in heaving breaths, her body collapsing bonelessly to the floor.
She smeared away the blood streaming from her nose and staggered to the intruder, who clutched at her left chest. She meant to demand answers.
Fighting off the ringing in her ears and waves of dizziness, Ye Jingqiu flipped the murmuring figure over with one hand. But the moment she saw the intruder’s face, she froze.
How could it be the Captain?!
Ye Jingqiu’s mind buzzed as she collapsed to the ground, utterly drained of strength. She trembled, staring at Shi Zui, who clutched the gunshot wound on her chest.
Blood poured ceaselessly from between Shi Zui’s fingers, silently pooling across the stone floor of the Divine Temple. Ye Jingqiu’s lips quivered, but no words came.
“Xiao Qiu…” Shi Zui murmured, grasping Ye Jingqiu’s arm. “Take me home. Take me home…”
Ye Jingqiu couldn’t think straight anymore. Her mind was a chaotic whirl, like an endless nightmare.
“H-Home?”
“Yes, home… our home. You can save me there. Save me, Xiao Qiu—save me quick…”
Ye Jingqiu didn’t know what to say. She forced out a few stammering words: “B-Building 209, right, Captain? Captain?”
Shi Zui’s voice grew fainter: “North… up north, beneath that Ice Sea. You have the key to open the door. It’s right here—right here! Have you forgotten?”
The words hit like accusations. North? Forgotten what?
Shi Zui slumped forward onto Ye Jingqiu’s shoulder, her blood dripping like the ticking of a countdown clock. Those usually calm, fathomless black eyes now blazed with raw unwillingness.
Terror flooded Ye Jingqiu’s mind like a tidal wave—the fear that her captain was about to die by her own hand. She shook her head frantically, grasping at feeble denials: “I don’t know any key. I really don’t…”
Shi Zui lurched another step closer, her eyes—brimming with desperate longing—locking straight onto Ye Jingqiu’s.
A gray haze clouded Shi Zui’s gaze. She released her grip on the wound, revealing flawless, undamaged skin beneath. A curse-like voice echoed everywhere, like the whisper of a vengeful ghost:
“Look at me… Xiao Qiu, look at me…”
Ye Jingqiu stared at Shi Zui’s face. Her own lips twitched as she fought against the force trying to control her mind. She’d endured the Golden Light’s purification once before—this level of Instinct couldn’t overpower her!
But right then, a bullet punched cleanly through her left chest!
The real Shi Zui stood at the entrance to the Divine Temple. She lowered her gun with icy calm and leaped to the intruder’s side in a few swift strides.
The bullet had pierced straight through the heart. No breath, dilated pupils—this woman was as good as dead.
After confirming the intruder’s condition, Shi Zui turned to Ye Jingqiu and waved a hand in front of her eyes. “Xiao Qiu? Xiao Qiu, are you okay?”
The effects of Instinct: Illusion faded away. Ye Jingqiu stared blankly at Shi Zui. “Captain?”
“It’s me. I caught a whiff of heavy Aether Element. That intruder must’ve trapped you in an illusion. Don’t worry—it was all fake.”
Ye Jingqiu just kept staring at Shi Zui, unresponsive.
Shi Zui’s heart skipped a beat. She seized Ye Jingqiu’s shoulders and gave them a gentle shake. “Xiao Qiu? Xiao—”
The word “qiu” caught in her throat. Ye Jingqiu had suddenly thrown her arms around Shi Zui in a tight embrace.
Soft sobs escaped her. Shi Zui felt warm wetness spreading across her shoulder. A touch helpless, she tucked the Pixiu Jade Pendant back into her chest—lest it poke her little teammate—then wrapped her arms around Ye Jingqiu, patting her back soothingly a couple of times.
“I thought… I thought I’d killed you myself.” Ye Jingqiu steadied her breathing a little and haltingly recounted the nightmare she never wanted to revisit.
Realizing just how carried away she’d gotten, her voice dropped to an embarrassed murmur.
“It was all fake. Relax,” Shi Zui said. After a moment’s thought, she tried a light joke to ease the tension. “Even if you wanted to right now, you couldn’t take me down.”
Ye Jingqiu mumbled something under her breath. Shi Zui didn’t quite catch it and tilted her head to ask—but before the words left her mouth, Ye Jingqiu pulled away.
Ye Jingqiu hastily wiped the lingering tears from her face, feigning nonchalance as she glanced off into the distance, desperate to change the subject. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Captain, what are you doing here?”
“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?” Shi Zui helped Ye Jingqiu to her feet, silently brushing the dust from her shoulders. “What are you doing in the Divine Temple?”
“I don’t know. I just woke up here. It felt like someone had taken control of me.” Ye Jingqiu shook her head; even she had no idea how it had happened.
Had an intruder seized control of Ye Jingqiu without a sound?
Shi Zui frowned faintly. She opened her mouth to speak—but at that moment, a flurry of urgent footsteps echoed through the hall!
She whipped around. The spot where the intruder had fallen was now just a pool of blood. Farther off, the door to a stone chamber hung wide open, and an unfamiliar woman was bolting toward the main entrance.
She was a modified human who looked perfectly normal on the outside—but her heart beat on the right side of her chest!
No time for deeper analysis. Shi Zui channeled her Wind Instinct and shot forward at blinding speed. In an instant, the Divine Temple fell silent, leaving Ye Jingqiu alone.
All around her, quiet returned. The gunshots, the suffocation—it all dissolved like a dream.
Ye Jingqiu knew she had no chance of catching up to her captain, not while she was still dizzy. She leaned against a nearby tree trunk, hand pressed to her forehead, and decided to rest. After a long moment, she let out a deep sigh. In a few days, she’d ask the captain for some extra training.
What a night. She’d been batted around like a ball by those so-called Saviors. What, just because she was a weak Awakener didn’t make her one at all?
Ye Jingqiu huffed in irritation. In a moment like that, she should’ve grabbed that intruder and bellowed, “Rivers shift every thirty years—don’t bully the young!”
Thud.
A dull thump rang out. Ye Jingqiu clutched her head with a groan, something heavy and painful having smacked right into her skull.
Of all days, why was today such a streak of bad luck!
Rubbing her head to ease the ache, she glanced down to see what had fallen—and froze solid.
It was a Pixiu Jade Pendant.
