Lang Yao walked through the quiet forest, his steps steady but his chest heavy with unspoken thoughts. The woods had lost their sound long ago. There was no usual sound of the forest's beasts or insects, as most of them had already been killed by scouting teams on the outskirts of the forest.
Only the soft sound of his boots pressing against the damp earth accompanied him. The low branches brushed against his sleeves as if trying to hold him back, but he kept moving, pretending the cold mist curling around his neck did not bother him.
He did not hurry. There was no need to rush. He already knew what would be waiting for him when he returned to the East River Base.
The large outer wall of the East River Base slowly appeared through the fog, its stone surface stained from a year of battles and the smoke that often clung to the air. The sky above him was still covered in thick gray clouds that refused to move, leaving the day feeling dull and heavy.
