Meanwhile…
Aurora Plateau, somewhere between two glaciers.
No. 54 panted hard, legs heavy as lead. She didn’t know how far she’d followed CST. She only knew her companions were getting farther ahead, and she couldn’t do it anymore.
“CST!” she yelled. “I can’t walk!”
She glanced at the wristband. Every health value had turned red. If she didn’t need it to tell time, she would’ve thrown the thing away hours ago.
The time display made her eyes widen.
They’d been walking for eight straight hours.
CST turned back and came to her side.
“To avoid the enemy, we’ve already slowed down a lot,” CST said. “And you still can’t keep up?”
“No.” No. 54 shook her head and slumped onto the ice. “My legs feel like they’re about to snap. I need a break.”
CST grabbed her sleeve and yanked it up.
On No. 54’s pale arm, a brutal patch of red had spread like a burn.
“When did this—” No. 54’s voice cracked.
“Rest will make it worse,” CST said, eyes hard. “I can treat you, but I can’t promise it’ll work. Your body will keep degrading. By this time tomorrow, you might not even be able to crawl.”
No. 54 swallowed, lips dry and split. “Got it.”
She forced herself up and trudged on for another half hour.
Then CST stopped suddenly and looked up.
No. 54 followed her gaze.
Against the deep blue sky, something moved.
At first she thought her exhaustion was hallucinating—but no. A bird. A real bird, flying low, circling above them a few times before gliding away into the dark.
“That was a bird, wasn’t it?” No. 54 blurted, thrilled at the first animal she’d ever seen.
“We’ve got trouble,” CST said.
She spat a curse, scanned the terrain, and yanked No. 54 toward a cracked seam in the ice. They squeezed into an ice fissure.
No. 54 didn’t understand. CST—CST—was afraid of a bird? But she didn’t dare ask.
The fissure was only about a meter wide, but it ran long. CST punched one end and collapsed it, sealing the exit with falling ice. Then she positioned No. 54 in the middle and spoke in a low, urgent voice.
“Listen. You stay here. Don’t make a sound. I’ll come back for you.”
“Where are you going?” No. 54 whispered.
“To solve the trouble.”
“But—”
“Don’t ask.” CST’s tone left no room. “You wanted to rest, right? Then rest. While you still can.”
CST climbed out, then smashed the other end of the fissure too. Now it was a long, sealed ice tunnel, with only a thin slit of sky visible overhead.
“One more thing,” CST said from outside. “Don’t hurt yourself. Your wound won’t heal right now.”
No. 54’s stomach clenched. “How long will you be?”
No answer—only CST’s footsteps fading fast into the distance.
***
CST burst into a full sprint toward the coastline.
She didn’t get far before a roar shook the air.
A small ship skimmed low overhead, spraying a dense storm of rounds down at her.
CST rolled flat against the ice, then snapped into a canyon to the right.
The ship swung around and charged straight at her. CST expected another rain of bullets.
Instead, two figures jumped from the ship and landed between her and the open route forward.
One was a massive man, shoulders like a bunker, neck thicker than his head. He carried a two-handed greatsword nearly three meters long. Standing still, he looked like an iron tower.
Beside him was a tall, striking woman. A barbed whip hung from her hand like something alive. On her shoulder perched an owl-like bird—exactly the one No. 54 had seen.
They blocked CST’s path from the front.
A sound behind her made CST turn.
Two more figures approached, splitting left and right.
One was a robot so tall it could’ve been mistaken for a Raider-class unit. Compared to it, CST was only the length of its arm.
The other was wrapped in a black cloak. Under the hood, a dry, death-pale face showed in flashes—like a vampire glimpsed between heartbeats.
Four strange monsters. Front, back, left, right. No route out.
The big man slammed his sword into the ice with a heavy thunk. “So this is the big deal? Soren made it sound like you were something special. Turns out you’re just a skinny little chick.”
“Don’t underestimate her, Gunnar,” the woman said lazily. “Little White is even smaller, and she’s still terrifying.”
“What does it matter if she’s strong?” the giant robot rumbled. “Has our master forgotten what we can do? He sent Eso alone to deal with Garrick… and he sent the four of us for her.”
“Enough talk,” the cloaked one hissed. “Finish it and go back. Every extra minute is an insult.”
The big man thumped his sword again. “I’m Gunnar the Scarless Tyrant.”
The woman flicked her whip with a crack that snapped the air. “Sili the Thorn Banshee.”
The towering robot hammered the ice with a fist. The surface exploded like it had taken a shell. “Gandio the Hell Piledriver.”
The cloaked vampire sighed. “Krasu the Black-Winged Dark God.”
His voice was so tired it sounded bored. “Arena rules. Pick one.”
CST looked them over, eyes narrowing with amusement.
“All this drama,” she said. “I thought you’d be someone interesting. Turns out you’re circus clowns.”
She held up four fingers.
Krasu’s lips curled. “She chose me? Heh-heh-heh…”
“No.” CST smiled, sharp and delighted. “All four. I’m on a schedule.”
***
Three hours later — Prilan Continent, Maple Valley.
This was Plando’s core region. More than two thousand kilometers from the polar continent, it held the densest web of factories and defensive systems on the planet. Mountainous terrain turned the whole area into a natural fortress.
Phantom Forge and Julian had been at war for over a thousand years, yet the flames had never reached this place.
Tonight, it was deep midnight.
Rain fell steadily.
On the outskirts of Maple Valley, tucked into a valley, a cave mouth hid in plain sight. The base was some distance away, but even here the rain couldn’t swallow everything—now and then, aircraft cut the sky with tearing sounds, and multicolored scanning beams swept past the entrance like searching fingers.
The cave had once been nothing more than a shallow recess in stone.
Now a mechanical sandworm had drilled a tunnel from its belly: roughly 1.2 meters wide, cutting straight toward the center of Maple Valley Base.
The tunnel was narrow, but the cave at its mouth was roomy enough. Five “people” waited there, eyes fixed on the entrance as if expecting the mountain itself to speak.
At the center sat a robot in a fully human form. His style was unmistakable—ancient-warrior austerity, even in the way he looked at the world. This was the Apocalypse Ranger: Robin Blin.
Little White sat to his left, idly twirling a short knife. On his right were Bit and the two liquid-human boys, Ollie and Ofer.
Little White got bored and leaned in, whispering to Blin, “Mentor… is it true? People say you once fought five hundred robots in Maple Valley, all by yourself, and you won.”
“Rumor,” Blin said flatly.
“Oh,” Little White said, relieved. “Yeah, I figured. That would be ridiculous.”
“It was more like a thousand,” Blin corrected, and then let out his signature cackle. “Cha-cha-cha.”
“Ah!” Little White’s eyes went wide.
“That was a long time ago,” Blin added. “Right after I converted into a digital body. Back then, neither Phantom Forge nor Julian had taken control yet. And it wasn’t just robots—it was bioweapons and augmented soldiers too.”
“Oh… okay.” Little White stuck her tongue out, embarrassed.
Bit’s curiosity ignited. “One versus a thousand? How did you pull that off?”
Blin opened his mouth—
—and Merc cut into the common channel.
“I’m back.”
A second later, footsteps sounded outside. A humanoid “stone” walked into the cave.
“Merc, why’d you take so long?” Little White hurried up. “Did you confirm it?”
The stone figure shifted. Its surface rippled. Merc switched modes and returned to his normal form.
“Confirmed,” Merc said. “Lord Julian did cancel the order. CST has been recaptured.”
Blin nodded. “Good. That means we don’t need to rush back.”
Merc glanced at Ollie and Ofer, then switched what he said onto the common channel.
“But Julian didn’t respond through his true body.”
Blin frowned. “Then where did the information come from?”
“Five-Color Fortress,” Merc replied.
“Authentication code?” Blin asked.
“Valid,” Merc said. “From Spokesperson Unit 02JW113.”
Bit shrugged. “Then it’s the same.”
“It’s not,” Little White cut in. “For important information, Lord Julian almost never replies through a secondary unit.”
“Yes,” Merc said. “Something’s off. I sent my request to the Azure Thunder, and he still answered through a stand-in.”
Little White’s gaze sharpened. “This whole thing’s been off from the start. CST was locked down. Why did it suddenly ‘escape’ the moment we left?”
Silence filled the cave for a beat.
“What now?” Merc asked. “Do we wait?”
“Phantom Forge’s canal is finished,” Blin said, voice turning cold. “The floodgates will open any moment. This chance doesn’t come twice. We can’t wait.”
He paused, then added, “But to be safe, we send one person back to take a look.”
“Me?” Merc asked.
Blin hesitated. “You… I’ve a different job for you. Bit or Little White goes.”
“I’ll go,” Little White said immediately. “I’ve had a bad feeling for a while.”
Blin nodded. “All right. If no one objects, that’s it. But don’t let the two little monsters hear.”
He waited. No one replied.
So Blin spoke out loud instead of over comms, making sure every face in the cave heard him.
“Everyone listen up,” he said. “Get ready for the Decapitation Operation—Phantom Forge.”
Everyone stood.
“Merc. Little White. You two hold the perimeter. Make sure the ‘eyes’ we planted stay hidden and safe. If Phantom Forge opens the gates and starts draining the channels, report immediately.”
“Yes,” Merc and Little White answered together.
“Bit, you stay here and cover us. The moment we enter the tunnel, seal the cave. And listen—if someone comes close, you don’t fight.”
Bit blinked. “Got it. Uh… wait. If an enemy comes inside, what then? Do I curse at them?”
“Idiot,” Blin said. “Where do you think we’re? If they spot you, we’re already dead. Your only job is to make sure they never find the tunnel—or you.”
Bit swallowed. “Okay. Understood.”
“Ollie and Ofer,” Blin said, turning to the two boys. “With me. Into the tunnel. We’re heading for the cooling shaft.”
“Understood,” they said.
Blin’s grin flashed in the dark.
“Then we begin,” he said, and let out a low cackle. “Cha-cha-cha…”
***