Chapter 49: First Fortress 1

In the night, the car continued driving south.

An He really did as told and shut her mouth. Aside from gripping the steering wheel, she made no extra movements.

Silence fell inside the car. The three of them each wore their own expressions. Lola slumped crookedly against the car window glass, lost in her own thoughts.

No one knew how much time passed before the moonlight was completely obscured by fog. The broken-down car’s headlights became the only light source in the darkness, charging straight ahead—whether toward escape or doom, who could say.

“Want me to take over driving?” Lola finally broke the silence.

She knew An He was deep in thought. When An He concentrated like that, she immersed herself completely in her own world, utterly focused. She usually showed no obvious expression then, but her eyes gleamed sharply.

Lola had noticed that if you looked closely, you could detect a particularly unique aura about An He.

Lola wanted An He to rest a bit. After all, they were companions now. After that series of irreversible events, An He might just be her only companion on this land.

But Lola soon regretted speaking up.

An He snapped out of her reverie and lifted her head. The calm expression on her face shattered like still lake water, replaced by a faint smile. “Have you cut off all emotions now? Unless you tell me that outright, I wouldn’t dare let you touch the steering wheel in this state. I’m afraid of dying.”

Lola’s budding notion of “depending on each other for survival” was immediately shoved back down.

Maybe An He should just shut up, Lola thought.

But this time, An He didn’t. She started chatting idly with purpose: “Let me ask—given your situation, what kind of treatment would you get if you fled back to the First Fortress?”

Lola shifted her position slightly. “I’m a special forces operative. From the moment I joined the Heroic Spirits Society, I was born for undercover missions. If I screw this up, it means I’ve lost all value and meaning.”

She hesitated, then continued, “By the book, they’d strip my identity and pay, turning me into reclamation fodder. If the Saint Lord rules that the living must bear responsibility for this defeat, then penalties based on the severity of losses.”

In a total wipeout like this, those held accountable probably wouldn’t escape death.

An He’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. Lola’s answer was detailed—more so than their guesses. So it wasn’t crude execution, but subdivided cases.

You really have to ask the person involved about this stuff.

“You said ‘reclamation’…” An He deliberately repeated it. She wanted to keep the topic going, but no need to say too much—just repeating once was enough.

“Most likely sent to the plain borders. Before I left, that was the most dangerous reclamation mission. Hardly anyone sent on those came back alive.”

An He nodded in understanding. The First Fortress’s resource applications were limited; they’d never stopped hunting for alternatives.

Either way, though, neither option was a good end for Lola. Early death or late death—it all depended on the higher-ups’ ruling.

“With your status, bringing Tina back wouldn’t offset the crime?” An He asked.

Lola glanced sideways at the mention of Tina. An He even knew her handler was a captain.

Lola replied, “It wouldn’t offset it. The Heroic Spirits Society values discipline above all, and everyone knows bringing the captain back is just what should be done. There’s only one scenario for full exoneration: if the Saint Lord shows exceptional mercy.”

What should be done?

“Wait.” An He caught a hint of something off in Lola’s words and straightened up immediately. “Why ‘what should be done’?”

“Because the captain is special.”

“I know that.”

An He had heard Ide say the same. Tina was a general personally appointed by Sekhmet, so Ide figured Sekhmet would kill the one who failed her herself.

But An He heard a different angle from Lola.

Lola offered a different take on the same outcome: “Sounds like you’re not one of the captain’s direct subordinates. We got orders: every captain is special. If she dies in battle, as long as any of us survive, her body must be brought back to the fortress. That’s why I didn’t argue against your prison break plan at all. But exactly how she’s special? Probably only the Saint Lord knows.”

Lola glanced sideways. “Do you know?”

“I don’t.” An He steadied the wheel.

She didn’t just not know why Tina was special—she hadn’t realized her prison break plan had accidentally hit the mark.

An He freed one hand and tugged her scarf, glancing back at the person in the rear seat again.

The captain is special.

No wonder losing her Nestsoul turned her into a waste, yet Sekhmet was willing to trade supplies for her. So the specialness wasn’t in Tina’s abilities, but the person herself.

What made Tina herself extraordinary? Some emotional entanglement with Sekhmet?

Unlikely. This was a negotiation for the whole fortress. Even if there was something personal, Sekhmet wouldn’t act on impulse—that woman was a successful leader, not like Lola.

An He recalled that day’s negotiations. When Ide suggested using a mental-type Embedded Spirit Body to invade Tina’s mind, Sekhmet had gone silent for a long time. An He had thought it was tactical pondering back then, but now it seemed suspicious. Sekhmet was truly wary of that.

And both Lola and Ide mentioned it wasn’t just this Tina—every “captain” was special. Sekhmet had personally killed the previous one.

Suddenly, An He felt something off. Unnoticed threads flashed through her mind; she grabbed the tail of one thought and realized: Could Tina carry a secret the other fortresses can’t know about?

What secret?

The only thing An He could think of was the First Fortress’s experiments.

Those experiments kept cropping up. Aside from Ninth Fortress folks, almost everyone An He met was tied to them somehow.

Was Tina an experimental subject? But Tina’s Nestsoul and Innate Talent showed nothing suspicious. So where was the issue?

An He thought, No, I have to resolve this fast. Since bringing Tina back might not make up for it, she needed to uncover this secret for leverage against Sekhmet.

Looks like I really can’t just show up rashly at the Heroic Spirits Society.

Before entering others’ sights, she urgently needed to hit the First Fortress labs for clues.

An He kept glancing back at the rear seat. When Lola started worrying about driving safety, An He slammed the brakes and stopped on the sand.

She got out, opened the rear door, and climbed into the back seat.

Since the battle ended that day, An He hadn’t seen Tina again. Now she finally had a chance to check her condition.

Tina’s wounds were untreated but luckily hadn’t festered; they’d scabbed over naturally. Her hair still carried the scent of gunpowder, making her look frozen in that battle night, untouched by time.

An He shone her flashlight, lifting Tina’s eyelids to check her pupils.

Tina remained utterly indifferent.

“Tell me, Lola—is this state normal for her?”

“Normal,” Lola said. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’ve just never seen someone who’s lost their Nestsoul.”

“That’s the state,” Lola said. “Without a Nestsoul, their mind falls into emptiness. They barely react properly to external stimuli.”

But they weren’t completely immobile. Patients could be guided to eat and sleep normally. Still, they drowned in immense pain—their minds like shattered glass, damaged brains unable to process stored information. Every moment was agony, yet they appeared eerily calm.

Only when complex external stimuli amplified in their minds and they resisted did they lash out wildly, seeming insane.

It was more like a mental illness than physical torment.

“Death might be a better release for her,” Lola said quietly, gazing at the rear seat.

“That sounds like you have zero feelings for your superior.”

“We don’t need feelings.” Lola paused after saying it, finding it absurd. She emphasized softly, “We never value feelings.”

“That’s why you’re like this— so easily swayed.” An He climbed out from the back, being mouthy again. “You’re love-starved.”

“Say what you want.”

An He saw nothing unusual about Tina. She patted her down thoroughly—no hidden devices. An He returned to the driver’s seat and quickly readjusted her thinking.

Then she bundled her clothes tighter. “The Swamp’s up ahead. Traveling at night is dangerous. We’ll rest here tonight, take shifts on watch. Tomorrow morning, I have something to tell you.”

An He needed Gu Xianqing’s help with something.

…

The next morning, An He woke refreshed. She confirmed Lola and Tina were still in the car, then rubbed her face. “Lola, I’ve got an idea. Wanna hear it? I’ll help you out—save both our skins.”

“What?” Lola had barely slept; dark circles ringed her eyes.

An He said, “Before I convince the Saint Lord to spare you, don’t show up at the Heroic Spirits Society.”

Lola froze. “You’re going back alone to take the blame?”

“I’m saving you. And I need your help.”

“You don’t need to bother with that.”

“I think I do.” An He stared straight at Lola, her tone no longer casual—serious and earnest now. “You don’t want to wait around for execution either, right? We’re people, not Heroic Spirits Society tools. We need to carve our own paths. Let me say it again: we’re allies. Partners.”

Lola opened her mouth, a subtle stir inside her. “Have you been at the Ninth Fortress too long? Got assimilated?”

“Call it that if you want.”

Lola thought long and hard. Before, she’d have rejected it outright, deeming An He’s mindset corrupt. But after so long at the Ninth Fortress, selfish desires had indeed sprouted in her. She didn’t want to die. She wanted to live.

Selfish desires were like weeds—once rooted, impossible to eradicate.

“Fine,” Lola agreed. “Where do I go?”

“There’s an abandoned construction site in Lower City District 17. Used to be a gang hangout, but it’s empty now. Hide there and recover. I’ll come find you when needed. Once I handle my stuff, I’ll pick you up and we go back to the Heroic Spirits Society together.”

Lola turned sideways. “You know the Lower City that well? You from there too?”

An He noted the “too” and blinked, dodging the question. “From that, sounds like you have a spot in the Lower City?”

“No.” Lola denied it quickly.

“Good. Then follow my lead. I know the routes. Once we’re back at the First Fortress, I’ll drop you at the site first. Your Innate Talent can get you past the Patrol Squad there.”

Lola didn’t reply, just nodded. She knew the drill—this was her survival skill.

An He thought for a moment. “But this means we can’t enter the fortress openly. Know any shortcuts in?”

Lola pondered. “Maybe through District 21. A year before my last mission, there was a bombing there. Several projects got relocated because of it, and the whole area evacuated bit by bit… You know about that?”

“Your last mission… was… five years ago?” An He looked up sharply.

“Yeah.”

An He’s heart jolted. Scattered words she’d heard clicked together. Gu Xianqing had said five years ago, she entered the First Fortress and killed two people.

But a bombing and full district evacuation? That didn’t sound like just two kills…

“What a coincidence. I’ve heard of it,” An He said. “Then we’ll head to District 21. You lead.”

They restarted the car and skirted the edge of the Swamp.

An He didn’t cut straight through. For one, their car wasn’t a motorcycle—the submerged old roads might not be wide enough.

For another, no one but Gu Xianqing roamed the Swamp so freely. Hard to explain to Lola.

The yellow sands on the ground were constantly whipped by the wind. Corpses picked clean by monsters—whatever had existed was long gone, traceless.

An He gazed out the window. It was her first time clearly surveying the Swamp in daylight.

The daytime Swamp lay quiet, less terrifying than at night. But the black mud swallowed all light. Like the Black Fog of the Strong Radiation Zone, you never knew what churned inside.

After glancing at it a few times, An He suddenly had an illusion. “Why does it feel like they’re moving?”

The morning sun illuminated the water along the edge of the Swamp, making it gleam brightly—like a mirage, dreamlike and illusory.

“Are you talking about the Swamp or the Black Fog?” Lola glanced out the window. “The Swamp doesn’t move.”

“Is there a difference? Does the other one?”

“Yes. The Saint Lord has always believed that the Black Fog is constantly spreading.”