This was a silent battle. The remaining contingent of over eighteen hundred troops aimed uniformly at the stationary black-armored Special Operations soldier. Breathing slowly steadied, yet the mind incessantly replayed images of the recent blood-soaked spectacle. Crimson clumps, already coagulated upon his armor, occasionally sloughed off, like a viper shedding its skin...
Utilizing the rare respite, both sides rested. 13 employed the breathing techniques honed beneath the sea, accelerating his metabolism. The sensation of pain lessened somewhat.
The monitor before them, transitioning from static, restored image by image, locked onto the motionless 13 from a planar perspective, unlike the aircraft's view. The monitor feed switched to the cameras mounted on the tanks. Only twenty-eight activated, indicating the number of surviving tanks.
Hideaki placed his watch before him, gaze following the second hand's rotation. "Not yet..." Anxiously awaiting...
Completely oblivious to Hideaki's intentions, Miyamoto could only observe quietly. Yet, Miyamoto held unwavering faith in Hideaki; his plans would decidedly not fail.
Every second felt excruciatingly prolonged. Confronting the pressure emanating from 13, Hideaki remained unaware. The soldiers gasped heavily for breath, as fatigued as if having completed a ten-kilometer weighted run. Merely holding weapons aimed at 13 induced ineffable discomfort. Fingers twitched involuntarily; minds screamed relentlessly, "Kill him!" However, soldiers remained soldiers; without orders, firing was impermissible, even facing death...
Perhaps due to excessive preoccupation with Hancheng's dynamics, perhaps due to the stealth transport aircraft's exceptional effectiveness—another flight, originating from Shanghai, approached this conflict-ridden city. The aircraft's cabin held minimal "cargo," only three coffin-like metallic containers.
Meanwhile, within the sewers, three individuals sprinted rapidly. Zhenxian's pace proved too slow; Uncle carried her upon his back. Her face bore only an expression of sorrow. Because 13 still fought out there, fought for her, who had already escaped. How she yearned to inform him of her safety, yet lacked the opportunity to turn back. He would perish foolishly for her sake, yet she hadn't uttered even a single "thank you." Even their successful escape was thanks to 13; were it not for the cryo-round he gifted her freezing the armored vehicle's floor plate, they would still be fretting within that metallic prison. Guilt gnawed at Zhenxian's body; aside from shedding tears, she could do nothing. The three rescued, also thanks to 13, felt silent gratitude, yet predominantly terror. Because no one knew at which moment he might unleash the seed of utter destruction. Now, they could only implore providence that he hold out slightly longer, affording the four sufficient time to flee Hancheng; otherwise, all actions were futile. They would still instantaneously transform into disintegrated matter. Perhaps their own cellular particles would scatter across the entire one-hundred-fifty-kilometer radius. Their sprint halted abruptly. Because within the darkness ahead, a single point of red light illuminated, followed closely by a second, third, fourth... The red lights multiplied. The heavy footsteps emanating sent chills down their spines...
"It seems God has decided; we must perish here today," Madman stated with a helpless smile.
Zhenxian felt regret. Compared to perishing silently within the sewers, Zhenxian preferred dying beside 13. At least she could witness 13's sorrowful gaze one last time, directed solely towards her in pity, not as anyone's substitute...
The footsteps drew nearer; the source materialized. Precisely an entire contingent of "Beast" autonomous combat weapons. The end remained unseen, resembling an excessively long black train. Baozhu and Uncle prepared for a final, desperate resistance. Yet, the colossal Beast weapons passed by them, departing, without even glancing at the four individuals. Cold sweat involuntarily traced paths down their faces; they dared not move even a finger.
Suddenly, the four fully comprehended why they hadn't been killed. Because their target was already locked... 13!
Zhenxian's body trembled violently; she struggled desperately, attempting to break free and land. Merely wishing to return and inform 13, though utterly meaningless. Yet, the thought of 13 being torn apart by these monstrosities induced vertigo within Zhenxian.
Uncle held Zhenxian tightly in a reverse embrace, conveying through the pressure of his hands the futility of such actions. As the black train vanished, the four resumed their original route. Time was rapidly dwindling...
Presently, in H-nation, the most helpless was not 13, nor Hideaki and Zhenxian, but the tank gunner aiming his cannon at the armored vehicle. Sweat pooled in his palms sufficiently to wash his face; the thumb resting upon the button felt numb, devoid of sensation. 13's identity had been tacitly confirmed within the hearts of these pitiable soldiers. Hideaki seemed to overestimate him, entrusting him with the grave responsibility of threatening 13. Likely, few worldwide possessed the opportunity to threaten 13. Those surviving thus far were rarer still.
The stationary black-armored 13 remained motionless, yet the blue "eyes" atop his head seemed persistently fixed upon him. Conveying no other message, only one... "Death."
"Five minutes remaining!" Hideaki clenched his watch.
"Ten minutes remaining!" The pilot in the sky confirmed the target.
"Not yet arrived?" 13 sighed helplessly. Sighing was formerly 1's habit; after comprehending sorrow, 13 grew fond of this method of emotional expression. For 13, it was merely a subtle form of catharsis, arguably 13's safest. Yet, 13 never anticipated this too could invite death...
The tank gunner's nerves, stretched to the absolute limit, reflexively pressed the firing button. Even he himself remained unaware of performing such an action.
Yet, machines are the most faithful tools; upon receiving a command, they execute, utterly disregarding whether the issuer had contemplated. The armor-piercing round blasted through the armored vehicle's outer shell, seemingly striking the fuel tank. The entire interior erupted in explosion; flames jetted out from the entry hole.
Hideaki instantly crushed the watch in his hand. Zhenxian killed—the plan equated to complete failure. The first failed plan in Hideaki's military history. Hideaki nearly went berserk, roaring within the aircraft cabin, furious not only at the plan's failure but also helpless at losing the first person who evoked feelings within him. Miyamoto beside him grew genuinely terrified.
Compared to Hideaki, 13's reaction was far more composed. Only the stationary body trembled faintly; the Titan combat knife nearly slipped from his grasp.
"N-no... N-no... impossible..." 13 couldn't even articulate clearly. Gazing at the still-burning armored vehicle nearby, he raised his arm, attempting to grasp something. Yet, aside from air, nothing remained...
Once again, losing something that rightfully belonged to him. More agonizing than the previous time. Because everything transpired before his very eyes, so incredibly close. Extending a hand felt as if it could alter everything. Yet, the outcome remained thus.
"Boom!" 13 knelt upon the ground with both knees; the intense vibration seemed palpable in every corner of the world.
Powerlessly collapsing onto the ground, as if a bullet had pierced his heart. Calmly sensing the ground's frigidity, 13 remained speechless. The soldiers present watched, bewildered; the seemingly invincible demon proved so fragile. Yet, victory evoked no excitement, only faint sorrow...
Breathing remained steady as before. Muscles throughout his body ached as if fractured, yet 13 no longer cared. Only tears flowed silently from his eyes, absorbed by the sweat-wicking system. Flowing incessantly, absorbed incessantly...
Uncertain why he cared strangely for Zhenxian? Was it affection? 13 couldn't ascertain. Within 13's heart, was she Angel's substitute? Or an independent existence? Even 13 couldn't distinguish. Knowing only an inexplicable sense of sorrow engulfed his entire being.
"Ultimately, I changed nothing..." 13 lamented. "The deceased remain deceased; the living remain living..."
Attempting to support himself and stand, only to collapse back onto the ground entirely.
"I am nothing..." Exerting utmost effort, attempting again. "Not a hero, not human, not a tool, not a god..."
"Is this the destiny I must confront?" The attempt yielded results; though trembling, he now stood. Gazing at the nearly extinguished armored vehicle.
"If so, I shall not evade..." The air composition subtly transmuted. 13 clenched his fists, Titan combat knife held behind his back, slightly crouching upon the ground.
"Yet you should not have! Should not have inflicted harm upon her! Why kill her?" He questioned through nearly shattered teeth. No one answered.
Observing 13's behavior, Hideaki's nerves involuntarily jumped wildly.
"What are you all stupefied for? Kill him quickly! Or the opportunity will be lost!!!!!" The hand gripping the headset nearly crushed it...
"You must..." The blue camera sensors turned blood-red. Veins on his left arm bulged visibly, even through the black combat suit.
"What are you?" 13 questioned himself inwardly...
"I am me!" 13 roared towards the heavens...
All cannons opened fire. The ground, having already endured one "baptism" by helicopter fire, received another. Dozens of precisely aimed artillery shells left behind ten-meter diameter craters; surrounding ground completely upheaved, resembling traces left by meteorite impacts. Before the stirred dust could settle, soldiers already began celebrating; facing attacks of this magnitude, even a demon couldn't survive.
"Is it concluded?" Miyamoto stated.
"If concluded, he wouldn't be 13," Hideaki pointed towards one of the monitors. 13's visage stood directly before it. This tank was the very one that blasted through the armored vehicle.
Gazing at the flashing four red eyes before him, the tank gunner's pupils dilated to their limit.
"Perish!" His left hand abruptly seized the tank's front section. The 'Wing' character beneath his clothing swelled, seemingly about to burst. Lifting upwards, as simple as flipping a table, yet the multi-ton tank was thusly erected vertically. Everyone's mouths formed 'O' shapes.
Leaping upwards from his spot, left hand gripping the combat knife, cleaving downwards from above. Landing back on the ground. A violent explosion dismembered the tank. And at this moment, 13 already stood ten meters away, observing everything.
"How could this be? Wasn't he on the verge of death?" This time, it was Miyamoto's turn to roar.
"It seems the outcome will change..." Hideaki, conversely, calmed down. "If estimation is correct, he is again like during the TB incident. One hundred percent state—Rampage!"
"Rampage?!" Miyamoto collapsed back into his seat as if paralyzed...