The people running through the streets were blocked by a massive vortex of light. Those at the front began fleeing backward, colliding with those still rushing forward, plunging the scene into chaos.
The light vortex continued to rise.
Countless luminous points formed twisting arms that emerged from the ground, far larger than anyone had anticipated. The panicked crowd slowed under the disorder, and as the spiraling arms swept past, they instantly swallowed many people.
One by one, bodies collapsed onto the street.
The remaining survivors screamed and scattered in all directions.
Finally, the light vortex broke free from the ground and continued ascending.
As the crowd retreated, they quickly cleared a vast open space. Military vehicles sped in, surrounding the vortex in tight formation.
Mounted on the roof of each vehicle was a peculiar weapon, resembling a silver antenna with an unnaturally long, sharp needle at its center.
All weapons fired at once.
Blue light shot from the tips of the needles, rapidly expanding midair, stretching and spreading until they interconnected, forming an enormous luminous membrane.
The membrane surged toward the rising vortex.
Even at full extension, the light shield was still insufficient to envelop the entire vortex. With ease, the vortex shook off its constraints and continued climbing upward.
Central Tower. Command Center.
Someone asked, “Agent W, are these all the Shield X53 emitters we have?”
W replied, “Every recently repaired Shield X53 from the factories is here.”
Just then, on the screen, the steadily rising vortex suddenly halted.
The troops on-site immediately prepared for another volley.
But Agent W said, “Hold on. I’m detecting a slight contraction in its size.”
Everyone froze, watching the vortex.
This time, even the naked human eye could see it—the vortex was shrinking rapidly.
Its size diminished at an alarming rate, its spiraling arms retracting as all the luminous points drew inward toward the center.
In no time, it completely collapsed, condensing into a tiny, blindingly bright speck of light—so intense that its original green hue was nearly lost.
Now.
Every Shield X53 emitter fired simultaneously.
The blue light membrane surged toward the speck, wrapping around it layer after layer.
The speck vanished completely within the blue membrane, transforming into a small blue sphere floating in the air.
Yet, in the very next second, a blinding flash erupted from the blue sphere.
The light membrane was torn apart as the encapsulated speck broke free, bursting through its restraints.
It rapidly expanded once more—but this time, it split down the middle, dividing into two dazzling points of light.
It had split.
This was the first time anyone had witnessed the vortex collapse and divide. Whether on Sixth Avenue in the Blue Zone or inside the command center, silence fell.
The two specks sprayed outward, scattering countless luminous points in all directions.
The points drew close to one another, beginning to rotate around their respective centers, stretching into curved, spiraling arms.
The vortices expanded at an alarming rate. Within seconds, they towered between heaven and earth—and now, instead of one, there were two, each nearly the same size as the original.
The Shield X53s fired again.
The blue barrier stretched out to envelop the vortices—but still, it was not enough.
Everyone in the command center understood: The containment plan had failed.
All eyes remained fixed on the massive vortices on the screen, but Agent W was simultaneously handling other matters.
While overseeing the evacuation of nearby residents, he also diverted a process to address the crisis in the core shielding generator hall.
Beneath the vertical cultivation farms, in the hall ravaged by the vortex, the wreckage of Striker-13 combat robots and two human officers lay scattered across the circular walkway.
Countless luminous points had invaded their bodies—soon, they would become frenzied fusion entities.
Beside them lay the unfurled black umbrella.
They had to act immediately—clear these humans and combat robots from the hall, away from the shielding generator.
Teams A1 and A5 were near Central Plaza, much closer than any other units, and were rushing to the scene.
But mutation could occur at any moment. Waiting for them would be too slow.
W knew that just outside the hall, a group of XR-7G2 multifunctional robots had been assembling cultivation racks. When the alarm sounded, they had halted operations and were now on standby.
W accessed their work channel and issued a direct command.
On the monitors, the robots sprang into action.
They dropped their tools and sprinted toward the hall at full speed.
I hope there’s still time.
Time was running out. W wished he could pray like a human would, but calculations soothed his anxiety better than prayers:
The last colonel who came into contact with the vortex took hours to mutate. Pei Ran had also touched the vortex but didn’t transform immediately—her mutation occurred that same night.
Hopefully, there’s a buffer of a few hours.
But W knew all too well—this time was different.
The colonel and Pei Ran had only brushed against the sparse outer edges of the vortex’s spiraling arms. The soldiers in the hall, however, had passed directly through the brightest, densest part of the vortex.
Their mutations might happen much faster.
W kept his focus locked on the scene—then suddenly noticed something unusual.
One of the XR-7G2 robots was behaving differently.
While the others rushed into the hall without hesitation, this one hesitated, observing for a moment before following.
W immediately pulled up the surveillance feed for comparison.
This was the same robot that had stopped the fleeing Striker-13 combat unit to ask questions—the one that pressed the alarm button by the wall.
Inside the hall, the XR-7G2s had already begun their task, dragging the downed Striker-13 units out.
Just then, one of the fallen human officers suddenly moved.
He was being hauled away by an XR-7G, his ankle still gripped in its mechanical hand, when he abruptly jerked free and staggered to his feet.
The labor robot, baffled but resolute, stepped forward to continue its mission—to drag him out of the hall.
But in the next instant, it lunged uncontrollably toward the officer—as if pulled by a magnet.
Countless green points of light surged from the officer’s body, rippling across his skin.
His mutation had begun.
The officer clawed at his uniform, tilting his head back in agony.
The XR-7G that had rushed at him melted like a snowman under a scorching summer sun—its components dissolving, twisting, fusing with the officer’s body.
Nearby, the downed Striker-13 units followed suit, one after another hurtling toward the mutating officer.
The amalgamate was growing rapidly.
It can’t be allowed more material to expand. W immediately issued an order—all XR-7G units were to evacuate the hall at once.
Just then, Teams A1 and A5 arrived.
They charged toward the hall housing the shielding layer generator, fully armed.
Inside the hall, the frenzied amalgamate had already transformed into a colossal steel monstrosity—
A grotesque fusion of human military uniform fabric and the interlocking components of numerous combat robots.
The moment it spotted the armed soldiers at the door, the weapons embedded in its robotic parts opened fire simultaneously.
Muzzle flashes lit up the area as the soldiers were pinned down outside by its overwhelming firepower.
W realized the worst had come to pass.
After absorbing all the combat robots in the hall, the amalgamate continued twisting its body.
The protective cover over the circular well shaft trembled violently, as if pulled by some immense force.
A deafening screech tore through the air.
The well cover tore free and hurtled toward the amalgamate.
In the command center, some screens switched to the feed from the shielding generator. Everyone watched in horror.
If the shielding layer generator was destroyed, the Black Well—now unprotected—would be fully exposed to the Silence.
The special forces outside saw it too. They poured on fire desperately, trying to lure the frenzied amalgamate away from the fragile generator.
The amalgamate’s weapons kept firing. Soldiers fell one after another.
Below the well, the generator’s delicate umbrella-like structure shuddered. Its framework groaned under the strain.
Then—it shattered.
Steel supports snapped. The giant “umbrella” crumpled like thin film, then tore away, vanishing into the amalgamate’s body.
The shielding layer generator had been destroyed.
Yet nothing happened. No text in the command center burst into flames. The screens remained lit.
People exchanged uneasy glances, not daring to speak.
W’s voice cut through the silence: “The core shielding generator has been completely destroyed. I’ve temporarily activated the backup generator from Phase Two expansion. However, the Phase Two generator is incomplete and cannot sustain operation at this intensity. Estimated time until total burnout: one to two hours.”
His meaning was clear—they had one, maybe two hours left. After that, the Black Well would have no shielding layer at all.
Marshal Vina arrived swiftly, striding through the door just in time to hear W’s report. She froze.
Her brow furrowed. “Agent W. You forcibly activated the Phase Two generator without authorization?”
W replied, “Marshal Vina, it was the only option at that moment. Had I not immediately activated the Phase Two shielding generator, I wouldn’t have been able to alert everyone in time about the disappearance of the shielding layer. The death toll in the Black Well would have been incalculable.”
If the Black Well had been directly exposed to the Silence, people would have exploded the moment they spoke—completely unaware.
There had been no other choice.
W continued, “At the very least, we’ve now bought ourselves one to two hours. We can notify everyone and begin immediate evacuation.”
The word “evacuation” made Marshal Vina fall silent.
She stood still for a long moment before asking, “What’s the status of the light vortices?”
On the main screen, the image of the vortices was enlarged again.
Two massive, twin-like light vortices now hovered above the city.
W reported, “We are currently evacuating personnel from the affected areas. The Shield X53 emitters lack sufficient coverage and are unable to isolate the vortices.”
Suddenly, on the screen, the vortices suspended above Sixth Avenue in the Blue Zone moved again.
Simultaneously, they shifted direction—and plunged toward the ground.
These colossal entities, composed of countless densely packed light points, weighed nothing. They moved swiftly, vanishing completely into the streets within seconds.
“Where are they going?”
“It appears they’re heading toward the vertical cultivation farms.”
The main screen split into countless windows, rapidly cycling through underground surveillance feeds, searching for traces of the vortices.
Elusive as they were, W did his best to track and predict their paths.
“One vortex remains untraceable for now. The other has appeared in Sector D7 of the vertical farms, moving at a 20-degree northwest trajectory…”
Marshal Vina stared fixedly at the screen.
She didn’t want to abandon the Black Well.
Even if exposed to the Silence, without the light vortices and the frenzied fusion entities they spawned, the Black Well would still be a relatively safe refuge compared to the outside world.
The problem was—there was no way to contain the vortices.
Marshal Vina asked, “Have all Shield X53 emitters been deployed?”
W answered, “Every single one. I’ve confirmed that even the two undergoing repairs in the maintenance facility were dispatched.”
He continued, “The vortex is altering its path, shifting upward. There’s a possibility it will resurface. Marshal Vina, residents near the Yellow Zone’s Tech Center Tower must evacuate immediately.”
Then he added, “I recommend we attempt a second containment operation in the Yellow Zone.”
Every second counted. Marshal Vina nodded immediately. “Understood.”
W swiftly mobilized personnel: “All members of Team E11, proceed to the Yellow Zone Tech Center immediately with Shield X53 emitters.”
—
Black Well. Yellow Zone.
Pei Ran jolted awake from her sleep.
It was W, calling her: “Pei Ran? Pei Ran?”
He wouldn’t disturb her in the middle of the night unless it was urgent.
Pei Ran sat up abruptly. “What’s wrong?”
He replied, “A light vortex has entered the Black Well. The frenzied fusion entities it created destroyed the core shielding generator. We’ve temporarily activated the Phase Two backup generator, but it can only last one to two more hours.”
The news was hard to process.
Pei Ran asked, “Didn’t you say the Black Well was tightly sealed by an isolation barrier? That the vortex couldn’t get in?”
“There must have been a breach somewhere—a flaw the system didn’t detect. We’ve discovered that the vortex can compress itself. It likely slipped in through a tiny gap.”
“Is there any way to stop it?”
W was blunt. “At this stage, no.”
Pei Ran fell silent, her skin prickling with dread.
This wasn’t just about losing the shielding layer and the inability to speak. The real threat was the uncontrollable light vortex now inside the Black Well.
Pei Ran knew firsthand how terrifying the vortex was.
It would spawn countless frenzied fusion entities, turning the Black Well into a hellscape of monstrous hybrids.
A sealed hellscape—with no way out.
W continued, “The vortex inside the Black Well is moving unpredictably. It’s far larger and denser than the one you encountered in the tunnel, and there are two of them. We’re trying to contain them, but the chances of success are near zero.”
Pei Ran understood.
“We have to evacuate the Black Well.”
“Yes.” W said. “We’re making a final attempt, but I’ve prepared to notify everyone to evacuate. I’ll open all exits in every direction. If people can avoid the vortices, they can escape safely.”
Pei Ran grabbed her clothes, dressed quickly, stuffed the spider into her pocket, and called out to her two small robots.
“Ren, Xingkong—we’re leaving.”