The Clearing Storm

The Administrator's office was dimly lit. A pale blue luminescence flickered, casting light over three silent faces. After a brief wobble, the camera feed settled on a set of power armor seated against the wall. The man inside looked battered. Bullet dents pockmarked the armor, alongside patches of black slime left behind by slime mold fruiting bodies. He set the camera down on the floor, offered a slight wave to the lens, and then tapped his index finger against the helmet to release the locked visor. A few minutes earlier, the Enterprise employee and the Legion retinue had nearly come to blows. Fortunately, Meng Liang had been quick on his feet, shouting out the anomaly he had discovered before a full-blown clash erupted—someone else was likely attempting to restore the deleted data. This discovery finally prompted the Enterprise and the Legion to set their dispute aside for the time being, agreeing to first smoke out the little rat lurking in the gutter. To find more clues, Su Ming recalled the hard drive previously recovered from the power armor. Though he had hesitated over whether to reveal Captain Lu's final words before the Legion and the Alliance, he ultimately handed it over to Meng Liang. Sharing information openly would minimize suspicion. He did not know whether the drive contained secrets that could not be shared with outsiders, but now was hardly the time to fight a mutually destructive battle against the Legion. He trusted that Captain Yun would understand his decision... Pangolin remained silent. He merely handed his weapons over to Meng Liang for safekeeping, gesturing for Su Ming to do the same. The Alliance was an ally of the Enterprise. Surrendering his weapons to an Alliance non-combatant was his show of good faith. Surprised by Pangolin's gesture, Su Ming followed suit to show his own sincerity, cleanly handing his firearms to Meng Liang. With that unspoken understanding, both sides shelved their conflict and stood quietly before the holographic video feed, unveiling a hidden secret buried within the shelter months ago... "Hey. By the time you watch this recording, I'm probably not long for this world... But I believe you'll come. You said you wouldn't leave anyone behind, and I know you'll find me. That's why I decided to leave something for you." Meng Liang had never met the man in the video, but judging by the somber expressions on Su Ming and Pangolin, neither of them seemed like strangers to him. Strange. If Meng Liang didn't recognize him, how did the Legion soldier know who he was? Still, he didn't interrupt. The recording might hold clues regarding Project Torch. Right now, he only cared about one thing: who exactly was restoring that technology in Sector X-13. Lu Yang let out a faint breath, collected his thoughts for a moment, and continued. "Listen up. Project Torch is no blessing, and the so-called Shelter 0 is even worse. It is a weapon of mass destruction whose lethality eclipses every weapon known to our civilization combined, spanning the entire planet. "No handful of nuclear warheads could ever compare. A high-penetration neutron plume will wipe out every living organism across the heavens and the earth. Even shelters buried deep underground won't be spared. Don't go thinking you'll be the one lucky soul in ten thousand. The people it kills won't even rot; they'll only oxidize slowly, because it will eradicate every last bacterium clinging to airborne dust. The entire ecosystem will reboot from scratch... Sounds terrifying, doesn't it? "On the entire planet, only those shielded by the 'Handle' have any hope of surviving. I'd even wager that the Handle is the ground zero from which the neutron plume is unleashed. "I don't know whether that data was ever finished, but I wiped it all clean... A strategic weapon sweeping across an entire planet sounds cool on paper, but the moment I remembered my family, my friends, and all the people fighting tooth and nail just to survive on this world, I couldn't feel a shred of joy. "Maybe in the distant future, we'll need it to purge some kind of evil, but certainly not now... If it's developed today, it'll only ever be turned against our own kind. "By the way, that bunch calling themselves the Enlightenment Society tried to bribe me. They said they could give me ten thousand slots. All of us—our families, our friends, even our descendants—could become gods of the new world. They planned to use the fruits of the Era of Prosperity to rebuild a mighty, glorious civilization on a clean slate. "I told them to keep dreaming. Two centuries ago, our fathers chose to stand alongside tens of thousands of displaced survivors. The descendants of heroes might not be so great, but none of us are cowards... Go fuck yourselves and your pipe dreams. "I backed them into a corner and deleted the research findings for Project Torch, but unfortunately, I couldn't exterminate all those rats... They turned on us too abruptly. When they turned their coats, many of them were gathering supplies in Sector X-13 alongside our non-combatants. They locked the blast doors leading into Sector X-13 from the inside. Li De and the others are most likely done for. "Only later did I realize that our clash with the Wilante had been deliberately provoked by them. But there was nothing I could do. Who told those Wilante to march across the desert just to pick a fight with us before we even reached the dunes? I honestly thought those warmongering lunatics were coming straight for us. "Leaving wouldn't have been impossible, but there were still surviving Enlightenment Society disciples holed up in Sector X-13. Before he died, my technician told me that the deleted data could still be recovered, especially since the archive terminal in Sector X-13 could interface with the shelter's main server—unless I tore the whole shelter down. "I found the wreckage of the Pioneer, retrieved the broodmother sample collected during our previous expedition, and dropped it right onto its favorite reactor. In a little while, I'll leave my gear and my combat data behind for that little guy to guarantee the destruction goes off without a hitch... What a shame there are no nuclear warheads left, or I could've made a cleaner sweep of it." Lu Yang paused, leaning the back of his head against the wall, murmuring to himself. "...I couldn't wipe out the original Project Torch proposal. I tried my best. But when I thought about it later, maybe there was no need to erase every trace of its existence after all. "That proposal doesn't just record a wicked scheme; it records the countless people who stood up against it. They were deceived once, but they woke up in the end. They withstood pressure from the elites and dignitaries of that era, refused the allure of wealth and power, and made a choice faithful to themselves, their families, their friends, and everyone around them. "I don't think their story deserves to be forgotten. The brilliance that burst forth in that fleeting moment ought to be recorded. I believe anyone who reads it won't just see the darkest malice—the fact that our world was nearly pushed to the brink of destruction by a handful of smooth-talking egoists. They'll also see the ordinary people who stood tall and dared to say no. "At the very least, what I saw wasn't just a conspiracy of schemers, but the courage of another group of people. The latter, at least, shouldn't be buried. "As for mistakes... they aren't so terrifying. A person makes mistakes their whole life. Pen those mistakes in a diary, even if rereading them brings a twinge of regret once in a while; that's the only way future days get better. "Cough! Haha, listen to me rambling. I probably won't get the chance to keep any diary... Either way, this is where our adventure ends." At this point, Lu Yang coughed twice. A look of relief surfaced on his face, his posture loosening entirely. "...I don't regret chasing after a pile of shit for so long. Someone had to see what it was. A buried landmine is far scarier than a bomb sitting in plain sight. To my comrades, it's been an honor walking beside you for this long, and an honor that, at the very end of it all, I could join a brave group of people in making the same courageous choice our predecessors made. "Lastly, please pass a message to the citizens of Ideal City for me." A faint, relaxed grin tugged at the corner of his lips. Facing the mission recorder's lens, he offered his final farewell. "That Shelter 0—my boys and I found it for you. Too bad it's no paradise like the rumors claimed. Everything on the Endpoint Cloud is pure bullshit. The place is nothing but a giant pile of crap. "Stop holding on to impossible fantasies. There are no shortcuts along this path. In the end, our world has to rely on us. Anyone still sitting back watching the show and waiting for a savior... it's time to wake up." *** Up on the surface. The battle had just reached a fever pitch. A 400mm heavy shell howled down from above, sending a boiling pillar of smoke and fire tearing into the sky. A crater like an abyss scarred the mangled ruins, severing the battlefield in two and shattering any lingering hope the Enlightenment Society disciples had of retreating. Deafening battle cries pierced through the roar of artillery, sweeping through the center of the camp like erupting volcanic magma. The disciples standing in the path of the Death Corps wolf riders were like ants on a beach, swept aside and crushed to pieces at the very first clash. Amidst this rubble-strewn battlefield, the primitive cavalry, armed with near-future equipment, unleashed an unprecedented shockwave. The "lances," firing 20mm armor-piercing incendiary rounds, proved every bit as lethal against medium-armored soft targets as Gauss rifles, which suffered from overpenetration. Faced with over a hundred riders opening fire simultaneously, the front rank of Enlightenment Society disciples collapsed in mere seconds. And when half-meter-long talons and scorching breath crashed into their faces, the brutal, bloody nightmare truly began. Over twenty forward squads were trampled into oblivion beneath the iron charge of the Deathclaws in an instant. The support units bringing up the rear fared even worse, with over a hundred disciples shredded by the counter-battery fire of the 400mm main gun. The drone formations that had accompanied the vanguard into the fray suffered an even more pathetic fate. Before they could accomplish anything, they were caught square in the blast of an EMP rocket fired by soldiers of the Enterprise's 26th Strike Team, tumbling to the ground like dumplings into boiling water. Amidst the churning flames, an acolyte struggled to his feet from the rubble, propping up his Gauss rifle and locking his sights onto that cerulean suit of power armor, gritting his teeth as he switched on the charging cycle. If he could just kill that man— Capacitors fully charged! Without a shred of hesitation, he pulled the trigger. A brilliant white arc flashed from the barrel as a tungsten-core slug, laden with terrifying kinetic energy, streaked like lightning toward the power armor. Yet to his utter disbelief, the armored man did not tumble from the Deathclaw's back. The slug, propelled to multiple Machs, slammed into an invisible barrier as if striking a wall, curving along the arc pointed by his warhammer before deflecting harmlessly into the sky. The disciple's pupils shrank to pinpricks, his face a mask of shock and bewilderment. A deflector shield?! Impossible... The Phase Energy Rectifier had suppressed the entire region—the Academy's research vessel being unable to lift off was proof enough! Yet what besides a deflector shield could possibly stop a bullet from a Gauss rifle?! Before panic could fully set in, the torrent of steel mounted on living flesh surged right in front of him and his fellow disciples. "Kill—!" Nearly two-meter-long "lances" tipped with half-meter bayonets swept in, their icy glint arriving alongside a deafening roar. With no time to fall back, a gaping, blood-soaked maw snapped around his throat, severing it instantly. Just a short distance away, a disciple clad in an exoskeleton was tossed into the air by a Deathclaw's forelimb, a bayonet skewering clean through the ballistic plate on his chest. It wasn't just the Death Corps wolf riders charging. There were infantry without mounts, alongside nearly a thousand players, including elite vanguards from the Burning Corps! Without even a chance for their lines to buckle, the enemy disintegrated into dust beneath the blare of the charging horn... Meanwhile, aboard the research vessel anchored at the fringe of the battlefield. Seated in the cockpit, Yang Kai reviewed the video sent by the Alliance Administrator again and again, his gaze deep in thought. Ten minutes ago, those people calling themselves the Enlightenment Society had likely activated a Phase Energy Rectifier, throwing the gravitons in the area into disarray and disabling anti-gravity drives and deflector shields. Up until the curtain fell on the Era of Prosperity, the Human Alliance had yet to devise a countermeasure against "phase cannons," and Yang Kai had no good solution either. Even so, Yang Kai wasn't particularly worried about his own safety. The phase cannon's gravitational disturbance had a limited duration; it couldn't pin him here forever. Moreover, the hull was cast from reinforced alloys, making structural damage from standard weaponry practically impossible. On top of that, the vessel carried five hundred "Swarm" drones and four Tarantula robots. The former were devastating against soft targets in the area, while the latter offered effective EMP shielding and handled hardened armor targets. Up to this point, no one had seen the cards in his hand. They hadn't even seen his face. Just then, the inner cabin door slid open, and Zheng Hao stepped in from the central compartment wearing an exoskeleton, speaking respectfully. "The battle outside is over... The Alliance won." He wasn't particularly surprised by the Alliance's performance on the field. Although the enemies outside had decent gear, it was hardly better than what his Beacon squad had wielded. At the very least, his squad had possessed two "Swarm" missiles with ranges of several kilometers, along with high-altitude reconnaissance drones. These enemies, aside from the phase rectifier that had caught him off guard, had limited their support fire to a few electromagnetic-catapult mortars and rocket launchers. If they could defeat the battle-hardened Alliance elites fresh off the front lines with just that, the Alliance's months of campaigning would have been entirely in vain. To be fair, the individual quality of the weapons was respectable. Among the electromagnetic rifles, Zheng Hao had recognized several at a glance as stockpiles left behind by regular Human Alliance forces. Yet weapons were merely tools. Divorced from a matching operational doctrine, squeezing even a tenth of their potential was an achievement. In small-scale skirmishes, amateur forces might leverage gear advantages to seize the upper hand. But in coordinated, combined-arms warfare, their lack of combat experience and the discordance between their weapons and tactics laid them completely bare. It was no different from handing a thousand Gauss rifles to the Falcon Kingdom—those feudal armies still wouldn't stand a chance against the Alliance on an open battlefield. The heavy weaponry assigned to the enemy's support units had barely opened fire before Alliance counter-battery strikes obliterated them, long before they could play any decisive role. Perhaps the enemy had never expected the Alliance airship to retain its combat capabilities after crashing from such an altitude. To tell the truth, neither had he. Seated in his chair, Yang Kai nodded. He tapped the touchscreen twice with his forefinger, standing down the weapon systems from high alert. "You've clashed with the Alliance before. What's your take on their combat strength?" Zheng Hao paused, pondering for a moment before speaking. "They are professional soldiers." Yang Kai raised an eyebrow. "Oh?" Zheng Hao nodded solemnly. "Their gear isn't particularly remarkable, but their mastery of weapons, their adaptability to the environment, their grasp of tactics, and their on-the-spot reactions in combat are all astonishingly strong. Perhaps it was forged by the turbulent conditions of River Valley Province; they're used to facing adversaries with superior equipment. Once they adapt to the enemy's operational rhythm, they seize control of the battlefield in no time. "To beat them, one must strike fast and decisively." Yang Kai closed his eyes in contemplation before summing it up. "So... what makes them special is the sheer combat experience of the soldiers themselves?" "You could put it that way," Zheng Hao said with feeling. "They're natural-born soldiers. I'd even say... they are weapons in their own right." "Understood." After a brief pause, Yang Kai remembered something and added, "Right, any word from Jiang Xuezhou?" Zheng Hao offered a bitter smile and shook his head. "Not yet... If you ask me, she's a non-combatant. Making her operate alongside team members she's never worked with before is pushing her too far." Yang Kai replied dismissively, "No matter. I gave her the best equipment. That mechanical hound has exceptional firepower in both close-quarters urban combat and medium-to-long range engagements. It's more than enough to cover her combat shortcomings." Zheng Hao fell silent for a moment, then murmured, "And if the threat comes from something else...?" Yang Kai frowned. "Such as?" Zheng Hao glanced quietly out the window. "Such as what lies below." One could run into anything inside a ruin. Most of the time, it was alien species or slime mold. Occasionally, one stumbled across mutants or marauders occupying the site, or even unknown armed factions and mercenaries eyeing the salvage. Unlike most researchers in the Research Division, he had been stuck at Rank-D Explorer for years. He knew better than anyone just how perilous plunging into an unmapped ruin could be. And the greatest danger stemmed from the unknown. Not even the Human Alliance had kept track of every single contingency card it had prepared for the apocalypse, to say nothing of the sheer chaos that could unfold over two centuries. It was practically like opening a blind box... If it were up to him, he would rather take two experienced combatants than a piece of self-propelled artillery that could crawl through tunnels. Yang Kai considered this for a moment, then nodded. "True, that is a concern... But there was no helping it. Li Ke could only secure one slot for us, and she was the best candidate." Zheng Hao sighed. "We can only pray she comes back safely." *** Just as Zheng Hao had reported to Yang Kai, the battle outside had already been decided. Under Chu Guang's orders, the Death Corps wolf riders fanned out across the perimeter to search for the phase cannon that had downed the airship, as well as any remaining hostiles. The thundercloud storm disrupted communications and aircraft indiscriminately; the commanders directing those disciples and the psychic operators controlling the clones couldn't be far away. Deathclaws were among the finest hunters on the wasteland. Those puppet masters wouldn't make it far. As for the rest of the players, they set about cleaning up the battlefield. "Holy crap! A Gauss rifle! Sweet stuff!" Construction Site Boy and Bricks beamed, his face flushed with excitement as he looked over the piece of gear he had just scavenged. A Type 15 "Python" Gauss rifle! Back when it was in the lottery pool, the drop rate was under 0.1%, with only a handful across the entire server. Who would've thought this single battle would turn into a wholesale giveaway! Aside from designated marksman rifles like the "Python," there were light machine guns built for rate of fire and magazine capacity, as well as lightweight caseless assault rifles. Looking at the high-tech weapons strewn across the ground, nearly every player's eyes glowed green with greed. Several Wilante soldiers at the camp's edge looked on with envious eyes, but seeing the feral hunger on the players' faces, none dared step forward to pick through the scrap. Setting aside that the Alliance had fought the battle, that frantic, loot-crazed demeanor made them suspect that if they tried to join in, they'd be sent back on stretchers... "Heh heh, I'm gonna play sniper from now on," In Debt God chuckled, two Gauss rifles strapped to his back. Drum Hair Washer rolled his eyes. "You're an Intelligence-type, what the hell are you gonna snipe with?!" It had started as a casual joke, but the remark immediately ruffled In Debt God's feathers. "What, Perception-types can snipe but yours truly can't?" Yang Youbao sidled over with a cheeky grin. "Take my advice, bro, stick to your drones. The sniper water runs too deep, you won't be able to hold your breath. Hand 'em over to an Agility-type powerhouse like me to flex—" "Piss off!" In Debt God rolled his eyes hard, ripping the two rifles from his back and hugging them tightly to his chest. "Not a chance!" Fawai Kuangtu walked over hauling a heap of salvaged junk. Looking at the grinning veterans, he scratched the back of his head and asked, "Brothers, have you seen the guild leader?" In Debt God grinned. "You mean Brother Shui? That guy took his boys to hunt down the enemy command post." Fawai Kuangtu blinked. "Damn, he just left all this loot behind?" Construction Site Boy and Bricks waved a dismissive hand. "Ah, doesn't matter who picks it up." A legitimate battlefield wasn't a bandit brawl; spoils didn't belong to whoever grabbed them first. According to the rules laid out in the *Player Handbook* regarding encounter loot, all recovered spoils would be logged by logistics shortly. Aside from a small fraction deposited into the Alliance's warehouse, the vast majority would be distributed to participants based on contribution scores and player consensus. Tracking contribution scores was simple enough. Every player's combat role and assigned mission were open records. Players equipped with VMs had location beacons active on the battlefield. Combined with combat footage captured by Hummingbird drones, who had slacked off and who had fought hard was plain to see. In truth, slacking off was out of the question. Who would want to slack off when things were this fun? Besides, combat footage was regularly edited, filtered, and posted to the official forums. Slacking off would only embarrass oneself in front of the whole community. On the other side of the field, amidst the Burning Corps' positions, Corner Camper stared at the heaps of exoskeleton fragments and couldn't help muttering, "Damn, these guys were geared to the teeth." Clone troopers aside, nearly every member of the other squads had worn an exoskeleton, with rows of grenades clipped to their tactical belts. EMP and fragmentation grenades were practically standard issue for them. Now, all of it fell right into their laps. Bai Gei Dai Ju crouched down to examine a piece, comparing it against the suit he was wearing, and his jaw dropped. "Holy crap, this exoskeleton is the exact same model as ours!" A Type 5 "Light Cavalry" police exoskeleton! Only the original black finish had been swapped for concrete-gray camouflage, with minor tweaks tailored for wasteland combat. For instance, to counter alien beasts, the armor along vulnerable sections of the arms and legs had been reinforced. Beyond the Type 5 "Light Cavalry," there were also exoskeleton models they didn't recognize, likely comparable military patterns. Corner Camper wore a nuanced expression. "According to the lore on the website, most Enlightenment Society members are shelter residents. Some of those shelters were closely tied to the Post-War Reconstruction Committee, so having Era of Prosperity gear isn't that weird." "True," Lost Noob agreed, scratching his head in confusion. "Still weird, though. Why'd these guys go out of their way to pick a fight with us?" Prop Master shrugged. "Who knows?" "Hell if I care what they wanted. Maybe there's a hidden story, maybe they're being used, but what does that have to do with me? I never read the plot when I game—just shoot and loot!" Killing Dagger clicked his tongue, unsatisfied. "All I know is these guys had regular army weapons and fought like damn rebels... Total pushovers." *** On the other side of the battlefield. A circle of people had gathered beside a battered barrack. Among them were Wu Changnian, soldiers of the 26th Strike Team, and Yi Chuan, who stood there looking utterly lost. Slinging his warhammer onto his back, Chu Guang gave Neko's neck a gentle pat, signaling for the beast to lower itself before stepping off onto the ground. Every eye turned toward him. There was gratitude, lingering dread, but above all, sheer reverence—especially among the young soldiers of the 26th Strike Team. They had heard rumors that the Alliance Administrator was a formidable fighter, but none had imagined the big shot wouldn't just fight, but personally ride a Deathclaw into the charge alongside Alliance troops. By comparison, their Deputy Minister Wu looked pathetic; to say nothing of charging the line, it was a miracle if a stray bullet didn't take him out. Of course, that was merely the immature perspective of young recruits. In truth, even if it were political theater or driven by hidden motives, the fact that a high-ranking political figure had dared accompany them into this godforsaken place was remarkable in itself. If one added that he refrained from micromanaging frontline operations and genuinely deferred to professionals, he was practically worthy of an altar. Expecting a person to be flawless was unrealistic; no one could live up to such unreasonable standards. "Thank you for coming to our aid!" Watching Chu Guang approach, Wu Changnian clenched his fists in agitation, speaking with rigid severity. "Those... shameless rats dared to mock us with such tricks! The Council will ensure they pay a bitter price! Every shelter implicated in the Enlightenment Society's plot will be placed on a permanent blacklist! If you uncover any intel on the Enlightenment Society going forward, please be sure to share it with us!" "I will. From the moment they chose to deal with mutants, they renounced their humanity... They are enemies of all order, no matter what form that order takes." Pausing, Chu Guang glanced at the reporters nearby before returning his gaze to Wu Changnian. "However, I hope the media in Ideal City will report on this as objectively as possible. Don't let public sentiment turn against shelter residents as a whole... and I hope this incident won't affect our future cooperation." The Enlightenment Society had grown precisely by exploiting the hatred some bluecoats held toward the order established by the Post-War Reconstruction Committee, their rage toward the wasteland's surviving factions, and their despair over the desolate world, ultimately leading them down an anti-civilization extreme. If the Enterprise, the Legion, and the Academy broadened their hostility to all shelter residents because of the Enlightenment Society's machinations, they would be playing right into those rats' hands. Wu Changnian spoke with conviction. "The citizens of Ideal City know right from wrong, not to mention that our own ancestors were once shelter residents. The Council's countermeasures won't expand to target every shelter. We will issue a public statement at the press conference—that much I can guarantee!" He understood Chu Guang's concern, but it was entirely unfounded. The Alliance itself wasn't an organization exclusively for shelter dwellers, but a collective jointly built by bluecoats and wastelanders. Even if Ideal City's citizens developed prejudices against bluecoats, they wouldn't stretch their anger so far as to vent it upon the Alliance. Chu Guang nodded slightly. "I certainly hope so." He trusted his ally as well, but speaking up was a necessary precaution. To be pragmatic, triumph was at hand. He refused to let a few rats scheming in the shadows tarnish the fruits of victory his little players had bought with countless resurrection coins. After exchanging a few words with Deputy Minister Wu, Chu Guang stepped into the half-collapsed barrack. As he passed the doorway, he offered a reassuring pat on Yi Chuan's shoulder. "...Maybe my brother is still down there," Yi Chuan murmured under his breath, staring blankly at the hospital bed. "At least this one is a clone..." Not knowing how to answer, Chu Guang remained silent. He knew full well that Yi Hai was dead. Yet he could not say it. Speaking the truth would do nothing to soothe the man's grief, only fueling unnecessary suspicion. Granting him a little breathing room was perhaps the gentlest mercy. Looking at the motionless "Yi Hai" lying on the bed while doctors bustled around him, Chu Guang fell silent for a few moments, then spoke in a quiet voice. "I've always believed that memory is the essence of a person. "Not just one's own memories, but the memories others hold of you... That shared perception forms our social identity. "Our worldviews, values, even self-awareness... all are built on the foundation of memory. In that sense, memory is equivalent to a person's soul. "That's why even when someone dies, they don't vanish from this world. We carry their memories forward, and they remain beside us in another form. "To believe that reading someone's memories allows you to replace them completely, or even become them—such childish arrogance is laughable in its stupidity. "You never managed to replace anyone's place in this world, not even for a single second... You merely manipulated people's feelings and fooled their eyes for a time. "In any case, you used technology to desecrate what should never have been touched. Prepare yourselves to face the people's wrath." The figure on the bed did not respond, nor did Chu Guang expect him to sit up and argue. The neural link had already severed. Even with a front-row seat to the spectacle, the coward hiding behind the curtain lacked the guts to watch the battle through to its conclusion. By now, he was probably scurrying away with his tail between his legs. No matter. He had already dispatched his elite players to comb the surrounding area. Chu Guang looked up toward the sky. The dark clouds rolling with thunder were drifting slowly toward the southern horizon. Such peculiar meteorological phenomena were not uncommon in the Great Desert; they typically arrived swiftly and cleared just as fast. It wouldn't be long before communications across the region were restored. And this patch of wasteland, like everywhere else, would soon greet the long-awaited sun. "It's almost over."