"So much equipment... what is all of this?" Xin Yaoqiao initiated the conversation, trying her best to keep her expression relaxed as she asked Zhe Qiuhong.
Zhe Qiuhong turned to look at her. "Yes, quite a lot. There are some medical instruments from ordinary human society, such as cardiac defibrillators, as well as nearly all existing source energy medical devices, including..."
The words *source energy brain-death arrestor* refused to leave Zhe Qiuhong's mouth lightly in the end, even though she was not normally someone who paid much heed to such things.
"It's so comprehensive," Xin Yaoqiao remarked with sudden, heartfelt admiration. From her tone, it sounded as if this were an extraordinary accomplishment.
"Yes, we brought just about everything we could. After all, we still know nothing about its exact mode of attack or mechanism of death."
In truth, the reason she had brought so many instruments was that there was an overwhelming probability none of them would be of any use. Zhe Qiuhong's expression froze slightly after speaking, unable to find an appropriate look for her face in that moment.
"Yeah," Xin Yaoqiao nodded slowly, still wearing that look of sheer marvel.
Zhe Qiuhong collected herself. "I'll be standing guard inside shortly. Is there anything you need to instruct me on?"
"Yes." Xin Yaoqiao seemed to have considered this long ago and replied at once, "Don't interrupt me. Before I completely lose all vital signs or actively ask to stop, no matter what happens, none of you are to do a thing."
"...?" Zhe Qiuhong was taken aback, for that meant during the upcoming attempt, there would be no such thing as resuscitation.
"I'm afraid whatever I might have been able to say would be cut off," Xin Yaoqiao explained seeing her reaction.
"...I understand," Zhe Qiuhong agreed.
About two seconds later, "Do you want to rest and prepare?" Both spoke almost in unison.
"Okay," Xin Yaoqiao replied. "I'll head back to my room, then."
"Okay." Zhe Qiuhong nodded.
Having returned to her small room, Xin Yaoqiao did not let herself sink into any emotion again. Closing the door, she had one hour left to prepare herself. After that, when she opened this door once more and stepped outside, she would face that completely unknown horror entirely alone.
Assuming the assessment was correct, that voice truly did come from Miwang and concerned the Martian battlefield or something else—humanity had to glean something from it as soon as possible.
Xin Yaoqiao had a premonition: it was vitally important, perhaps even tied to the fate of everything.
That was why she had resolutely decided to do it. Amid immense grief and dread, her parents, maternal grandfather, and paternal grandfather had ultimately given their consent as well.
In the hour that followed, Xin Yaoqiao did only one thing: brainwash herself so that no matter what happened, she would remember to speak.
She knew it was very likely she would abruptly lose consciousness while listening to the recording, or fall into some unfathomable mental space or state. Therefore, she needed to work hard to instill a conditioned reflex in herself, so that under such circumstances, she would still know to open her mouth and speak, naturally giving voice to the deduction she reached upon hearing it.
"So get out of my head, Han Qingyu." Xin Yaoqiao certainly didn't want to exhaust her very life in a moment, only for her muddled consciousness to blurt out something related to that guy.
...
Mars. Inside the medical bay of the space carrier Doomsday Great Wall, Han Qingyu remained in a coma.
Previously, after every battle fought to the absolute extreme, the Yanxiu within him would suffer immense depletion, leading to temporary drops in strength or even direct dormancy.
Now, he was Yanxiu, and Yanxiu was him. As his strength advanced, all battle depletion had also come to be borne by his own body.
At present, however, he was still an incomplete Yanxiu. Compared to nearly all the Yanxiu inheritors in this world, he had an extra half-set of remains that belonged to himself, but he was still missing the other half.
His four weapons lay beside him.
He Tangtang, who was likewise unconscious from having gorged himself to bursting, lay not far away.
Wu Xu, Rusty Sister, and the others kept vigil at their side.
Meanwhile, Old General Jiang Longchi, Shen Fengting, Duosang Jiacuo, and others stood guard outside in the open area beyond the compartment.
"Ah, my poor eldest grandson..." Old General Jiang Longchi was injured as well, though not severely. As he spoke, his eyes remained fixed on that hatch, and tears actually welled in the old man's eyes.
The matter of Jiang Longchi mistaking Han Qingyu for his grandson was something everyone usually treated as a joke. Yet watching this scene in this moment, Shen Fengting couldn't help feeling a pang of sorrow and sympathy. After thinking for a moment, he tried his best to offer comfort: "It's fine. Your grandson, he..."
"Where did he go? Isn't it time for him to go to school?" General Jiang suddenly asked.
It seemed he had forgotten again. Shen Fengting: "..."
"Where is this place? How come across all these hills and plains not a single blade of grass grows? Is this a desert?"
"..."
"Who are you? Are you Afanti? Where's your camel?"
"..."
"No, wait, where's your donkey?"
"..."
"Hey, old brother, let me ask you something. Is the donkey one of the twelve Chinese zodiac signs?"
"..."
"Oh, I see." Jiang Longchi looked earnestly at Shen Fengting and ventured slowly, "You're a mute, aren't you?"
*His condition seems to have gotten worse again, hasn't it?! Could it be because of that recent battle?!* Shen Fengting thought helplessly, still keeping his mouth shut.
"Never mind, I'll go ask him." Seeing this, Jiang Longchi stopped pestering Shen Fengting and turned instead toward Master Duosang Jiacuo, who was squatting nearby in gloom after having missed out on every battle. "Hello, old brother. Do you know where my grandson... Donkey! Are you the donkey? Afanti, I found your donkey!"
As he spoke, he turned toward Shen Fengting, then quickly turned back.
"Wait, no, someone like you ought to be called a bald donkey... Amitabha, how come I seem to remember that I was a monk too? Then are you my son? No, are you my disciple?"
"..."
If Wen Jifei hadn't assigned them this mission in his capacity as deputy commander of the expedition fleet—charging the two of them with watching Jiang Longchi to prevent the old man from being left behind on Mars when the fleet evacuated—Shen Fengting and Duosang Jiacuo wouldn't have wanted to stay here for another second.
And if they weren't truly no match for him in a fight...
The expeditionary army had already begun preparing to evacuate. Even though they hadn't received any follow-up operational directives, Wen Jifei and General Yegor had quickly reached a consensus.
Under the present circumstances—isolated far out in space, their top commander severely injured, and lacking the capacity to thoroughly wipe out the scattered swarms of Great Spikes across Mars—making full preparations in advance for an army-wide evacuation could never be wrong, no matter what.
By this time, the veteran squads that had dispersed earlier to attack were returning to assemble.
All spacecraft formations were reorganizing, undergoing maintenance, and initiating preparations for the return journey.
On the other side, aboard General Yegor's flagship, Pegmont had already awakened. The duration of his coma had actually not been long, nor were his specific injuries particularly clear, but upon waking, he still temporarily lacked the ability to move.
He lay flat on the deck plating, stuffing down handful after handful of various Earth foods handed to him from the side, chewing and gulping voraciously as if his stomach were a bottomless pit, occasionally washing it down with gulps of a beverage.
These were what he had vehemently demanded with his very first words upon waking.
Pegmont wanted to eat. Whether he was hungry or not didn't matter; what mattered was that he hadn't eaten anything other than Great Spikes for far, far too long.
"Hey, you?" In the midst of his ravenous feast, Pegmont casually turned his head and discovered that the person sitting beside him, feeding him food, was none other than his former battlefield partner, the sniper Makarov.
"How come you're here too?" Pegmont asked in bewilderment.
Makarov: "Why shouldn't I be here?"
"I mean, your strength is so terrible. According to what they said, aside from a portion of top-tier and super combat powers, weren't all the people who came on this expedition retired veterans?"
"Yes, and I'm one of those retired veterans who came back," Makarov said mildly.
Pegmont froze. "You retired?!"
"After the battle in Antarctica, you hitched a ride on a Great Spike craft to Mars, and I retired to a logistics base." As Makarov spoke, he looked down and gestured toward his left shoulder, where the sleeve below hung completely empty.
As a sniper, he had lost an arm in the chaos of the Antarctic battlefield.
Thus, in the subsequent turnover of fresh and veteran personnel across the Azure forces, he naturally had no choice but to step down.
"Well, that's pretty much how it went. What's worth being envious of is that I lived an easy life for a while, and even got married."
Makarov smiled and gave a brief account of his injury, retirement, and life afterward, but he didn't say a single word about the specifics of how he had managed to return for this expedition.
It had likely been quite difficult, but because Pegmont was here, alive, and news of him had finally come, Makarov simply had to come.
About this, Pegmont naturally had no need to ask; no matter how thick-skinned or oblivious he might be, this was something he could easily understand.
In this world today, nearly everyone probably knew the great name of Pegmont, knowing he was the only new-generation peak combatant capable of rivaling Major Qing, the other of humanity's two great hopes. Yet compared to Second Lieutenant Wen Jifei by Major Qing's side—whose fame was hardly inferior to Qing's own—Pegmont's battlefield wingman, Makarov, was far too ordinary, far too unremarkable, so ordinary that almost no one knew of his existence or his name.
Yet even so, what did that matter?
Captain Makarov remained Pegmont's most important comrade-in-arms, a life-and-death partner to whom he would entrust his life on the battlefield—at least, Makarov firmly believed so himself.
"Fuck, you actually got married! Someone actually agreed to marry you!" Pegmont burst into loud laughter.
...
One hour passed very quickly.
During this time, humanity on Earth remained immersed in joy, excitedly and wildly celebrating the expeditionary army's magnificent victory on Mars.
Aboard the Miracle Space Station, Xin Yaoqiao, clad in a full source energy device and maintaining a numb yet steady state, opened the door of her own accord and stepped out of her small room.
A total of three familiar assistant researchers were waiting outside the door.
"Watch my mouth, my hands, my eyelids. Record every word and every syllable I speak according to the agreed-upon protocol. Beyond that, do nothing else."
Her speech was steady and numb, her steps steady and numb as well. Having spoken, Xin Yaoqiao looked neither at them nor at anyone else, walking calmly into the workshop where everything was already prepared.
This was the largest workshop in the entire space station.
By now, Zhe Qiuhong and two medical personnel were already waiting inside. Aside from them, an Azure super combat power and two top combat powers stood guard around the perimeter in full gear.
Xin Yaoqiao did not speak to a single one of them, nor did she even look at them.
Keeping her measured pace, she walked over to the console and sat down in the chair.
She put on the headphones.
Next, she activated her source energy device, using her own top-tier combat power to push her source energy fluctuations as high as possible, holding them at their peak.
Closing her eyes, without pausing or steadying her breath, she simply said:
"Begin."
*Click.* An assistant researcher pressed the play button.
The workshop sank into silence.
Three seconds, five seconds... There was not the slightest movement, not even a breath. No one knew whether Xin Yaoqiao was still alive.
At the seventh second,
"Yanxiu... bones," she whispered faintly.
Then, dead silence returned.
At the fifteenth second,
"Moon."
Her entire body began to exude an aura of limp collapse.
At the twenty-first second.
Judging by the length of the recording, this was likely the second loop.
At that moment, Xin Yaoqiao moved once more. Only this time she did not speak—she was probably no longer capable of it. Slowly curling her fingers, she pointed at herself, then slowly extended her hand to point toward the space station's observation window nearby.
Chapter 929