Chapter 46

The gunfire ceased, and a few individuals trickled upstairs. Selan brought up the rear.

"Are these people uninfected?"

Selan replied, "Yes."

Listening to the doctor inquire about the survivors' activities that day – their food, water, and air intake were all provided by the Lighthouse without issue – An Zhe learned that even the air they breathed was circulated through the ventilation system. If any of these three factors had been compromised, the entire Lighthouse would have fallen. However, they all shared one thing in common: during the period when the magnetic field vanished, none of them had been in close proximity to the experiment subjects. Some had been in their offices compiling data, others had attended meetings on different floors, and had only just returned – like Doctor Ji himself.

The infected staff also shared a common trait: they had all been in close proximity to the anomalies – not physical contact, but spatially near to these monsters or anomalies. For instance, an assistant researcher had spent his entire afternoon in a small office, engrossed in coding and fitting a certain data model. Yet, he was still deemed to have contracted genetic infection. The only suspicious factor was that two reptilian creatures were being kept in a laboratory right next to his office.

Selan sought permission from the military to seal off the three floors around the anomaly research center and prohibited anyone from entering.

"Infection could be coming from the water supply, food, or air," said An Zhe, sharing a room with the doctor in the Court's lounge. The doctor spoke to the white wall, "If only it were that simple, but it isn't."

"Could it be radiation?" he continued, "Suppose every monster is a source of radiation. Initially, the radiation would be weak, and only severe injuries would cause infection. Later, even minor wounds could lead to infection. Then, as the radiation intensity increases... simply being near a monster could trigger instant genetic changes due to radiation exposure."

An Zhe found the theory plausible, but then he witnessed the doctor bury his face in his palms, taking a deep, despairing breath. He appeared on the verge of collapse, "But our instruments can't detect it."

An Zhe sensed that the doctor was on the verge of losing his mind. Putting himself in the doctor's shoes, he understood the root of the madness.

The research — the study of these monsters — wasn't about how complex it was, how many resources were needed, or how perilous it was. Rather, it was the fact that, up until now, they still didn't know what they were dealing with. It was like being a person walking in pitch darkness, having lost their last crutch. They knew a cliff was nearby but had no idea when they would suddenly step off the edge.

He watched as the doctor slowly lifted his head. His blue irises were slightly dilated, and his facial muscles twitched, revealing a despairing terror as if facing some immense, horrifying, indescribable entity. In front of him was just an empty white wall, but the most terrifying thing in the world was the unknown.

An Zhe poured a glass of water for him, which the doctor drank, managing a weak smile.

"Thank you," he said. "I don't know how many more days we can sustain the water supply here."

The doctor wasn't wrong. Since the aurora vanished that night, the entire base had gone into emergency shelter mode. Outside, there were solar winds and radiation; no one could leave the buildings. However, the heat from outside seeped through the thick walls, raising the indoor temperature to at least 30 degrees Celsius. Without any climate control, it was dreadfully dry, and electricity was only used to keep essential systems running. At eight o'clock every morning and evening, the base rationed out a compressed biscuit or a pack of nutrient powder, along with a bottle of drinking water.

Three days later, only one bottle of water was given out in the morning.

This place was the Twin Towers, the command center for the military and the researchers. Sometimes, An Zhe wondered how dire the situation must be in the ordinary residential buildings outside if the resources here in the Twin Towers had been reduced to such a meager amount.

"The fighter jet, 1109, takes 12 hours to fly from the Northern Base to the Underground City Base, and the same to return. 120 hours have passed, and we've heard nothing." The doctor, scribbling complex formulas on paper, told An Zhe, "Emotionally, I trust Lu Fen, but we need to prepare for the worst-case scenario now."

Five days later, even the nutrient powders were gone.

The elevators were out of service, so An Zhe slipped quietly out of the courtroom and climbed the stairs. Along the way, he encountered at least three couples locked in embraces in corners – or perhaps not couples, but certainly inseparable for the moment.

"I shall fear no evil, for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me."

"Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life."

"And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever."

Passing by a conference room on the thirteenth floor, he saw a dozen white military officers and researchers reciting the Bible together. At least half of them had tissues stuffed up their noses; the high temperatures and dry air made nosebleeds common among humans.

In fact, such conditions were even less suitable for mushrooms to survive. An Zhe hadn't had a good night's sleep in days. Sometimes he felt like he was being tossed about in the torrent of fate, while at other times, he imagined himself sprawled under the sun, about to be baked dry. When he finally managed to wake up, he would be ravenous.

But he could wait. That very morning, the doctor had commented on his growing composure: "Even though things are getting worse, you seem to be getting calmer."

An Zhe truly wasn't afraid. He was a composed mushroom. In the past five days, he had quietly remained within the Twin Towers, moving in and out with the doctor and Selan. Many people had become familiar with him.

He kept an eye on the dim red glow in the security cameras that indicated operational status, and pricked up his ears to listen to every broadcast.

Yesterday, that light dimmed.

And this morning, the doctor received word that due to insufficient energy, all research activities were to cease.

An Zhe took a subtle deep breath and stood before the entrance of Lab D1344. Inside, it was eerily quiet, not even the hum of machinery could be heard. He had finally outlasted the researchers.

The lab door was firmly shut, with a faint glow emanating from the sensor by the entrance.

In the next moment, he pulled out Lu Fen's ID card.