172: The cost of victory and the mark of growth

When Wang Jianguo’s voice—deep and steady, yet carrying an undeniable exhaustion and a powerful, palpable sense of relief—was broadcast clearly through the base’s internal system to every corner of "Homeland," the hours-long life-and-death defense battle that had stretched everyone's nerves to the breaking point finally concluded.

"Attention all personnel, this is Wang Jianguo." His voice echoed in the silent safe room, every word seeming to carry the smell of gunpowder and the cold hardness of metal. "The invading enemy has been repelled, and the main threat has been essentially eliminated. I declare that the 'Homeland' defense battle... we held the line!"

"Repeat, the crisis is over. All units, proceed according to the predetermined plan, transitioning into post-battle recovery and alert status. Medical teams prioritize the rescue of the wounded; the engineering team immediately assesses the damage; all other personnel, perform your duties and remain vigilant."

This long-awaited news of victory was like a powerful shot of adrenaline, or a thousand-pound burden suddenly lifted, causing the deathly still air in the safe room to flow again instantly. Su Mu and Evelyn, who had been enduring the immense pressure like tightly drawn bowstrings, felt their taut nerves snap the moment they heard the words "held the line." Almost simultaneously, they collapsed from exhaustion, sliding down the cold alloy wall to sit on the floor. The weapons they had been clutching clattered down beside their feet, but they paid them no mind.

Su Mu suddenly stretched out her arms and tightly hugged Evelyn beside her, burying her face deep into Evelyn’s shoulder. The fear, worry, tension, and the surging relief and dread of the aftermath, suppressed all night, burst forth like a breaking dam, turning into uncontrollable, choked sobs. Her slender shoulders trembled violently. Although Evelyn did not cry out loud, her eyes instantly turned red, and tears streamed out silently. She hugged Su Mu back just as tightly, her knuckles white from gripping too hard, her body trembling slightly. This was the release of surviving a catastrophe, the breakdown after finally getting a moment to breathe after bearing immense responsibility and fear, and the piercing pain felt for the comrades who might have fallen outside forever. Silent tears and suppressed weeping intertwined in the safe room, forming a duet of sorrow and gratitude.

After an unknown amount of time, perhaps only a few minutes, an extremely weak groan, heavy with sleep, came from the sofa. Excellence’s long eyelashes fluttered a few times, and he slowly, laboriously, opened his eyes. His gaze was initially a blank void, as if his soul had not fully returned from deep dormancy. Immediately, fragments of memory flooded in like a tide—the piercing alarm, whistling bullets, the flash of explosions, the splitting headache, and the extremely anxious faces of the Squad Leader and Sister Evelyn... He subconsciously moved his body, immediately feeling a profound weakness and soreness, as if he had been completely drained. His small face was utterly pale, and his lips were cracked from dehydration.

He rolled his eyes, his vision gradually focusing. He saw Su Mu and Evelyn, embracing and collapsed on the floor, and saw the unshed tears on their faces and their undisguised exhaustion. A child's heart is sensitive and direct; he immediately understood that the most terrifying moment had passed. A rush of emotions—a mix of immense relief, deep fear, and inexplicable grievance—surged into his heart. His nose stung, and large, crystal tears rolled silently down his pale little face like broken pearls. He struggled to sit up, but his body was limp and utterly weak. He could only sob weakly and intermittently, his voice thick with tears: "Squad Leader... Sister Evelyn... I... I thought... I would never see you again... boohoo..."

Hearing Excellence's voice, Su Mu and Evelyn snapped their heads up as if struck by lightning. Su Mu practically scrambled over to him, grabbing him—blanket and all—and tightly, tightly hugging him into her warm, trembling embrace, as if trying to merge him into her own flesh and blood. Her voice was so choked she could barely form a complete sentence, repeating over and over: "It's okay... baby... it's okay... it's all over... the bad guys were chased away... we're safe... Squad Leader is here... Squad Leader is here..."

Evelyn quickly wiped away her tears, forcing her weakened body to move closer. She reached out and very gently stroked Excellence’s sweat-soaked hair repeatedly, her eyes red-rimmed. She told him firmly, in a voice as steady as she could manage: "Excellence, you did extremely well... you were very brave. The intelligence you provided... helped Uncle Wang and everyone else... a great deal. It was you... who helped us... hold our home together." Her tone was filled with sincere gratitude and unspeakable heartache.

The Scars of War and the Brand on the Soul

When the heavy safe room door opened again, and the three of them—leaning on each other—stepped onto the familiar yet strange ground, the cruelty and cost of the war were laid bare before them in an incredibly visceral and tragic manner.

Inside the base, the cleanliness and order of the past were gone, replaced everywhere by shocking signs of battle: corridor walls were covered in scorched bullet holes and laser burn scars; in some places, the alloy paneling had been ripped open by the blast waves, exposing twisted cables and structures underneath. The air was thick with a pungent mixture of gunpowder, ozone, blood, and burnt construction materials. The ground was strewn with glass shards, deformed shell casings, and medical waste that hadn't been cleared. Lighting had not been fully restored in some areas, where only emergency lights cast a faint, flickering halo, stretching out distorted, bizarre shadows on the ravaged walls.

Medics and stretcher bearers moved quickly, their faces etched with fatigue and solemnity, busily moving through various areas, rescuing the wounded and transporting supplies. Occasionally, a stretcher covered with a white sheet was silently carried past; the silent shape underneath struck everyone's heart like a heavy hammer. Engineering maintenance personnel, wearing oil-stained work clothes, were urgently repairing damaged pipes, circuits, and defensive installations. The dazzling sparks and acrid smoke from welding added a touch of solemn tragedy to the broken landscape.

A sense of heavy silence and orderly busyness replaced the vibrant atmosphere the base usually held. The joy of victory had long been washed away by the heavy price paid and the sorrow of losing comrades. What remained was a profound grief and an even stronger will to survive.

Excellence, tightly holding Su Mu's hand, walked carefully through the ruins, his eyes wide. He looked at everything before him, his small face taut, his lips pressed into a pale, straight line. For the first time, he felt the horror of war so truly and closely—it wasn't a game, nor a story, but real destruction, bloodshed, and death. He saw the security guard uncle who usually smiled and patted his head, now standing firm at his post despite a blood-soaked bandage wrapped around his arm; he heard the suppressed groans coming from the medical bay; he smelled the sickening stench of blood... These intense sensory impacts were like cold carving knives, etching indelible, painful brands onto his young soul.

At the same time, he realized, more clearly than ever before, that he, the "seed" who needed to be strictly protected, was the core objective of this brutal battle. His existence was both the reason everyone fought desperately to protect him and, indirectly, the cause of the sacrifices and destruction before his eyes. A complex mix of guilt, fear, and an inexplicable sense of responsibility quietly began to sprout and spread in his heart.

The terrifying feeling of his mind splitting open and his body not belonging to him when his power went out of control, coupled with the horrifying realization that he might have been consumed by that external malevolence in the final moments if the Squad Leader and Sister Evelyn hadn't fought desperately to protect him, gave him a bloody, firsthand understanding of the word "control." Uncontrollable power is not just a burden; it is the source of disaster. This realization was far more profound than any lecture.

The Budding of Determination: Bidding Farewell to Naivety and Stepping Towards Responsibility

Days later, the base's cleanup and repair work were in full swing. Excellence walked alone and silently to the main corridor he used to run through several times a day, which was now riddled with bullet marks and scorched imprints. He stood there quietly for a long, long time, his gaze slowly sweeping over every scar, as if trying to etch everything into his mind. The laughter and playful moments of the past formed a sharp and cruel contrast with the broken scene before him.

Finally, his steps halted in a corner. There lay his "hand-crafted" warning system—once a source of pride, but now having stopped working amid the Chaos of battle, its screen cracked, and several "Sensing Spider" parts scattered across the floor. This "toy," filled with childish innocence and imagination, yet appearing so pale and powerless in a real crisis, lay silently there, like a mute irony.

Excellence squatted down and reached out his small hand, not to try and fix it, but to silently begin disassembling its parts, piece by piece—the "spider" made of Lego and tin foil, the microphone connected by messy wires, the tablet with the shattered screen... His movements were slow but focused, his face devoid of expression, as if performing a solemn ceremony.

Su Mu quietly walked up behind him, a complex heartache welling up as she watched his unusual silence and concentration. She asked softly, afraid of disturbing him: "What's wrong, Excellence? Do you... not like it anymore? Once it's fixed, you can play with it again."

Excellence didn't turn around immediately, remaining focused on his task until he removed the last core sensor before slowly raising his head. The setting sun's afterglow streamed obliquely through the shattered window frame at the end of the corridor, coating his young yet unusually calm face with a golden outline. His gaze was no longer the clear, carefree look of the past; it held something more—a composure gained from weathering a storm, a reflection born from painful realization, and an incredibly firm light that had broken through the earth.

He looked at Su Mu and shook his head. His voice was quiet but exceptionally clear and firm, every word seemingly weighing a thousand pounds: "It's not that I don't like it anymore, Squad Leader." He paused, glancing at the pile of "junk" on the floor, his tone carrying a calmness and resolution unsuited to his age: "It... it was too useless. When the real bad guys came, it couldn't do anything but make noise, and it even... made things worse."

He took a deep breath, his small chest rising slightly. His eyes became sharper and brighter, as if two flames were burning deep within his pupils: "I want to build... something real and useful! Not a toy! Next time... if there's another 'Ragnarok'...". He even accurately repeated the ominous word he had overheard in the adults' conversations. "...I definitely won't... drag everyone down again! I don't want to just be protected at the very back! I want to... I want to be able to protect everyone! Protect the Squad Leader! Protect Sister Evelyn! Protect our Homeland!"

This resounding vow, spoken by a mere ten-year-old child with a childish lilt, yet containing an undeniable resolve and power, struck Su Mu's heart fiercely. She looked at Excellence's young yet incredibly serious face, her eyes instantly welling up again. Her heart was filled with mixed emotions—the sorrow and pain of seeing a child grow up overnight, the worry and reluctance of witnessing him shoulder such heavy responsibility, but most of all, an inexpressible relief and shock. The flames of war had, after all, baptized this precocious naivety; the pain had cruelly fostered a growth beyond his years.

Standing not far away, Evelyn also clearly heard Excellence's vow. A complex light flashed in her eyes—the excitement of a researcher seeing a valuable sample achieve a breakthrough—but more profoundly, a deep heartache like Su Mu's and an increasingly heavy sense of responsibility. She knew that this young man was shedding his fragile shell at an astonishing speed, moving toward a path destined to be full of thorns, yet one that would shine with extraordinary brilliance.

The Night's Beginning: The Transformation from Protected to Protector

As night fell once more, the repairing "Homeland" temporarily regained a surface calm, with only sporadic sounds of electric welding and patrolling footsteps punctuating the night sky. In Evelyn's laboratory, which had regained power but whose walls still bore repair marks, the lighting was adjusted to a soft brightness suitable for concentration.

Excellence did not pester Evelyn with questions or fiddle with his small inventions as he usually did. He sat quietly in the chair, back straight, watching intently as Evelyn wrote the fundamental principle diagrams for energy control and guided breathing meditation phrases on the electronic whiteboard. This was not a game, nor a curious exploration, but a genuine, systematic, and goal-oriented learning session.

Evelyn's explanation also discarded the entertaining metaphors previously used to spark interest, becoming more rigorous, concise, and straight to the core. She spoke about the basic concepts of bioelectricity, the potential link between mental focus and subtle changes in the energy field; from foundational mindfulness breathing techniques, she moved on to how to introspect and guide one's intentions. Excellence listened extremely carefully, raising his small hand to ask questions clearly when he didn't understand something, his eyes filled with a thirst for knowledge and a determination to master power.

Su Mu did not disturb them, sitting quietly in the shadow of the lab corner, knitting a new scarf of a more subdued color (perhaps no longer featuring Excellence's childish patterns). Her gaze occasionally rested gently on Excellence’s focused profile, and occasionally looked worriedly at Evelyn. She knew that the carefree child who only needed to be tightly wrapped in warm wings had embarked on the long journey of becoming a protector, a path riddled with the unknown and challenges. The start of this road quietly began on this tranquil and earnest night, inside this laboratory that had just been cleansed by the fires of war.

Above the ruins, a new resolve, like a tenacious seed, struck deep roots in the scorched earth. The road ahead is certainly more difficult and treacherous, but the direction forward has become clearer and more unshakable.