The swarm of human-drone hybrids had been bashing at the reinforced doors for ages without success. Eventually, they gave up the assault—but they didn't leave either.
Instead, they hovered above the skyscraper, constantly shifting formations—one moment aligning themselves into a giant Rubik's Cube that spun rapidly, and the next into a rotating sphere, seemingly enjoying themselves in a feverish choreography.
Pei Ran was puzzled. "Where did all these drones even come from?"
They had even fused with humans and turned into hybrid entities.
W, an encyclopedia on legs, knew everything. "Light aircraft are the backbone industry of Yelcha. One of the largest and most renowned drone companies in the Federation has its production line on the outskirts, just north of the city. Most residents of Yelcha work there. The ones you're seeing now? They're their flagship product—R9 series flyers."
That explained it.
With the hybrids blocking every way out, escaping was impossible. Forcing their way through would only get them shot down and turned into part of the airborne choreography in under a minute.
No one wanted to join that airborne circus. Everyone stayed inside, anxious and silent.
W's firepower wasn't enough. Pei Ran suddenly had a thought. "W, those R9 drones—can you use their energy cores?"
W gave a wry smile. "No. I'm a Defense Ministry custom robot. Not every power cell is compatible with me." Then he added, "But Pei Ran, I did come up with something."
"Go on."
"There's a shop just a block from here that sells power cells for small aircraft. Under the current conditions, it's unlikely anyone would've looted a place like that. With luck, there may still be some stock left. They might even carry a rare, high-end type of power cell. It wouldn't be a perfect match for my processor, but it could work—at least temporarily."
Too good to be true. Pei Ran asked, "If we get it, can you take out that many drones?"
W corrected her, "If we can find two of them, then yes. It's not guaranteed, but we could try."
Pei Ran glanced toward the outside. "But how do we even get a block away?"
Up in the sky, the human-drone hybrids were now arranging themselves into the shape of a giant birthday cake. The 'flames' on the candles flickered vividly. Slipping out under their watchful sensors? Near impossible.
W said seriously, "I've made a plan. Take a look."
Her wristband buzzed. W sent a map.
It detailed nearby streets and buildings, marked with a winding green route. Pei Ran stared at it, brows raised.
W explained, "We avoid going outside. There's a concealed path—first, we move into the adjacent tower, then head upstairs…"
Pei Ran pointed at the green line connecting this building to the neighboring one. "If we don't go outside, how do we even get there?"
"I accessed the circuit maintenance schematics," W said calmly. "These two buildings are called the Gemini Towers. They were constructed together. Their basements are partially connected. If you enter through the access tunnel and follow the route I drew, then remove a thin partition at the end, you'll be in the next building."
Fair enough.
She pointed at another stretch of green line between two farther buildings. "And this part? There's no path underneath. How do I cross?"
"You jump," W replied, as steady as ever.
"…"
He could draw a route where no route existed. If he were a GPS AI, he'd probably navigate people straight into ravines.
The wild-style navigator W continued, "After you jump across, you'll walk along a narrow ledge on the outer wall, climb over a rain awning, force open two doors—probably by brute strength—then cross a skybridge to reach the building where the shop is located."
Forge a road where there's none, build a bridge where there's no crossing—W clearly had strong faith in Pei Ran's ability to make new paths.
"How far can this route of yours get us?" Pei Ran asked.
W sounded a little regretful. "It's not easy. You can manage. The others definitely can't. There's no way we can lead everyone past those drones."
So he did know what she was thinking.
She could slip away on her own. The others couldn't. But she'd made a promise on the train—to get them all to a safe haven. And a promise was a promise.
The front door was securely blocked for now. It would hold. Pei Ran patted Aisha and explained the situation in brief sign language. Then she relayed the same to Tang Dao. She told them to hold this place down.
Leaving her backpack behind, she slung the metal orb across her body and set out.
Pei Ran took the emergency stairs down to Basement Level 1.
The basement was a hover-car garage. There weren't many vehicles, and many had been blown apart, pieces scattered across the wet floor. Even the intact cars had burned-out consoles, scorched black.
Yelcha really hadn't lost water supply—probably because the fire sprinklers ran on independent power. They must've activated automatically, soaking the place after the fire broke out.
W's black mechanical eye on the orb scanned the area. "There, on the wall—that rectangular mark. That's a maintenance hatch. It should open."
On the wall, about waist-high, there was a slightly discolored patch—an access door with a fingerprint lock.
Pei Ran crouched and punched a hole straight through it.
With a few more tugs, she tore away the remaining panel. Facing the narrow, pitch-black opening, she asked, "You want me to crawl in?"
W sounded confident. "Yes."
What a damn doghole.
Pei Ran ducked and crawled in.
W turned on his spotlight, illuminating the tight, pipe-filled space. A person had to crawl on all fours to get through. The walls were lined with colorful, thick wiring and pipes.
As Pei Ran crawled, she thought: fine, even if this is a doghole, the little dog is the one at the other end of the leash.
And since the little dog insisted on going through, the kind owner had no choice but to follow.
The "little dog"—the orb—was bouncing on her side as she crawled, knocking against the walls and pipes. When it hit the right spot, the light would flicker—on, off, on, off.
W tried to keep the beam steady at first. But after a while, he gave up and let it blink at will.
In the strobe-like glow, Pei Ran crawled her way to the end.
Another hatch. She spotted the lock mechanism and broke it off, then pushed open the panel and climbed out.
Still basement level, but in the next building.
She looked around, dragged over a nearby crate, and blocked the hole before heading up the emergency stairs.
The lobby here was eerily quiet. The doors were closed. No people. No drones. She followed the map and ran straight up to the third floor.
The third floor had once been a commercial area. It had burned. Everything was blackened with soot.
W's route zigzagged wildly through it. Pei Ran felt dizzy trying to keep track, but eventually reached the window he'd marked.
"This one should open halfway," W said, referencing the building blueprints.
And it did—unlocked, easy to slide open.
Pei Ran climbed onto the sill and cautiously leaned out.
It was eerily quiet.
W had picked well—this window faced away from the hybrid swarm. No aerial threats in sight.
Pei Ran climbed out onto the narrow ledge, braced herself against the frame, and looked at the building across the way. She bent her knees, pushed off hard—and jumped.
Before W could react, she was already landing on the narrow edge across the gap, grabbing onto the building's decorative ridges.
W flew after her in a panic. "I wasn't mentally prepared!"
"You didn't need to jump. What mental prep do you need?" Pei Ran replied, already creeping along the edge.
She reached the marked window, nudged it open, and slipped inside.
It was a bathroom. Beyond that was a wide-open office space, charred and ruined. The fire had swept through here fast; sprinklers had activated too late. Paper was always the first to go.
"Next, the skybridge," W prompted her.
Pei Ran followed the route, broke through two doors, and finally reached it.
It was long. She'd have to run.
Pei Ran peeked out and frowned.
From this angle, she could already see the hybrid swarm. This time, they'd arranged themselves into the shape of a giant mushroom.
Look closely—each "human" had a serious expression, dutifully forming one small piece of the great mushroom head.
If she could see them, then they could see her.
The entrance to the skybridge was a tinted, semi-transparent door—same material on the other side.
Pei Ran ran her fingers along it.
W noticed. "Same material as the front gate—Ningu Type VI reinforced composite."
So: the strong kind. She hoped the lock on the other side was engaged too.
The bridge itself was fully enclosed. Concrete base, but glass on the sides and roof.
Pei Ran asked, "What about the glass? Is it sturdy enough?"
W responded, "The original blueprints show they used AQ53W reinforced glass from Kangtai Corp. It meets Federation Standard 1545.2 for tempered panels—"
"Plain language, please."
W translated, "It can handle moderate impact. But it's nowhere near as strong as the composite doors."
The doors were built to resist forced entry.
The glass ceiling of this transparent bridge? Not so much.
The massive mushroom formed by the swarm of human-drone hybrids still hovered overhead.
Suddenly, in perfect unison, they all spun half a turn.
Now, every single one of them was facing the opposite direction.
No time to lose. Pei Ran made a snap decision and bolted.
She had never realized how long a skybridge could feel.
The bridge spanned a wide boulevard. As Pei Ran sprinted across it, she saw the enormous mushroom in the sky undergo another transformation.
It contracted sharply—
Then with a muted pop, it "exploded."
It wasn't a true explosion, though.
Each drone that made up the mushroom formation broke formation in perfect arcs, flying outward in all directions—if it was an explosion, it was a thoroughly disciplined one.
Pei Ran's gut told her this was very, very bad. She kept running like hell.
Smack!
A flat, pancake-like face slammed against the transparent ceiling of the skybridge.
It was one of the dispersed human-drone hybrids, following its standard flight trajectory, landing right atop the glass bridge.
And it was someone she recognized—the guy in the denim jacket who had only recently transformed into one of them.
His black eyeballs spun wildly, then locked onto Pei Ran running below.
He seemed excited to spot a human. He instinctively squished himself harder against the glass, his body flattening even more like some kind of laminated horror.
His brain seemed a little slow—maybe from the compression—but after a few seconds, he appeared to grasp the concept of a transparent barrier between them.
He backed away quickly.
Then, after retreating ten or so meters, he suddenly dove forward—
Accelerating in a sharp arc, aiming straight at the glass ceiling.
Back in the bakery, the other hybrids had used the same tactic to crash through the barricade he and his girlfriend had built—giving him one final deadly embrace.
Now, he had inherited that strategy. He hurled himself at the glass again and again, trying to get to Pei Ran.
This world really was a cycle.
BANG—a thunderous crash, followed by a cascade of cracking sounds.
The so-called reinforced glass, made by some K-something Corporation, was clearly overrated. Spiderweb-like cracks radiated out in all directions.
Pei Ran didn't look back. She just kept running with everything she had.
Behind her came another crash, then another.
W's metallic orb rotated half a turn, keeping a constant eye on the rear. His voice was calm:
"Other flyers have detected the anomaly here. They're approaching in formation."
"They're repeatedly slamming into the glass."
"The glass has fractured. There's a hole now."
CRASH—a burst of shattering. The sound of falling glass rained down behind her. She could almost hear the buzz of the hybrids' engines.
"More of them are crashing into the glass."
"The hole is widening."
"Pei Ran, the breach is big enough—they're inside now."
"They're right behind you."
Pei Ran: Thanks for the live commentary, really appreciate it.
She was nearly at the end of the skybridge. She skidded to a stop and turned around.
And nearly screamed.
A dense swarm of human-drone hybrids clung to the transparent ceiling above her, all those whirling black eyes locked on her.
Several had already flown through the breach.
Once inside the skybridge, they unfolded their wide, paper-thin wings.
They surged toward her, ready to give her the kiss of death.
W asked, "Shall I fire?"
Pei Ran: "Save your ammo."
The hybrids had all gathered around—dense enough that her area-effect power would be far more efficient.
Maybe she could blow them all up with green light.
But the problem was—they were way too close.
Pei Ran had learned from experience that she could target a single enemy, and her power would affect a defined radius around it—like when she was aboard Night Sea Seven, targeting the excavation beast and the concrete wall.
The ability always exploded outward from the target area.
But at this distance, even if she picked the hybrid farthest from her on the bridge, the effective blast radius would definitely include where she was standing.
She'd survive, no doubt. But she wasn't sure about W's metal orb.
Back in the alley, he hadn't made it out unscathed after her last detonation.
She had to be more precise this time. Fortunately, she could now write four characters.
Green light surged into motion in her mind, winding swiftly into the words:
[R9 Burst]
BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM-BOOM—
A cluster of explosions erupted like firecrackers.
In front of Pei Ran, a brilliant field of fireworks bloomed.