90: When the prisoner stepped out of the cell, he discovered that the outside was also a cell.

Natha Doom walked in front.

Nathan Doom walked in front.

No one was escorting him. No gun was pressed against the back of his head.

He simply walked ahead with a slow pace, his right leg dragging every few steps, making a faint scraping sound against the metal floor.

Corvin followed three paces behind him, his gun not raised, but his finger always resting on the trigger guard.

TW-156 and two Thunder Warriors brought up the rear, maintaining a distance of ten paces.

They headed down the main corridor toward the lowest level of the Deep Palace.

The blue light in the corridor grew dimmer, the air grew colder, and the cloying, sweet scent of incense became stronger.

"What are you thinking?" Nathan Doom suddenly asked.

Corvin did not answer.

"You have been thinking," Nathan Doom said without looking back. "Ever since I told you those things, you've been thinking. I can hear the change in your breathing rhythm."

"You have good hearing," Corvin said.

"When you live under the sea for thirty years, your ears become very sharp," Nathan Doom said. "It is too quiet here. So quiet that you can hear the blood flowing in your own veins."

They turned into a narrower corridor. The luminous material on the walls had almost completely disappeared here, leaving only the faint red glow from Corvin's bionic eye to trace a small circle of light in the darkness.

"What do you want to ask me?" Nathan Doom said.

"I have no questions."

"You do." Nathan Doom stopped and turned around. In the darkness, those gray eyes reflected the red light of Corvin's bionic eye, showing a strange dark purple. "You want to ask me why I told you those things."

Corvin looked at him.

"You could have said nothing," Corvin said. "You could have sat in that chair and waited to die, or waited for us to drag you out. There was no need to tell me those things."

"Yes," Nathan Doom nodded, "there was no need."

"Then why did you say it?"

Nathan Doom remained silent for a few seconds.

Then he turned and continued walking forward.

"Because you are dying," he said.

Corvin's footsteps faltered for a moment.

"Your left hand," Nathan Doom said with his back to him. "It has been shaking since you came in. It's not nervousness; it's genetic collapse. I've seen these symptoms. There were genetically enhanced soldiers among my Sun Warriors, and they faced the same issues after a certain number of years."

His voice became very soft.

"First the hand tremors. Then blurred vision. Then muscle atrophy. Finally, you will wake up one morning and find you cannot move. Your brain is still functioning, but your body is already dead."

Corvin's left hand twitched again. He pressed it down with his right hand.

"How much longer do you have?" Nathan Doom asked.

"That's none of your business."

"Half a year? Three months?"

Corvin did not answer.

"I guess about three months," Nathan Doom said. "Your symptoms are already very obvious. If there is no intervention, you won't last through the next quarter."

They arrived at the door of the Self-Destruct System control center.

The screen on that massive metal door was still flickering with a cold blue light.

[Self-Destruct System Control Center]

[Status: Standby]

[Current Master Controller Heart Rate]

Nathan Doom walked to the control panel and stood still.

He didn't operate it immediately. He just stood there, watching the numbers jumping on the screen.

64, 65, 63, 64.

His own heartbeat.

"You know," he said, his voice very soft, "when I built this system, I wasn't thinking about protecting myself. I was thinking that if one day someone opened things that shouldn't be opened, I would at least have a way to destroy them all."

His finger hovered over the panel.

"But now your Commander has promised me. The data marked in red will not be opened."

He turned his head to look at Corvin.

"Do you think he will keep his promise?"

Corvin thought for a moment.

"C-19 is a man of his word," he said.

"C-19..." Nathan Doom repeated the serial number. "He is a good soldier. But he is not the one who makes the final decision."

"You mean the Emperor."

"I mean, no matter what your Commander promised, the final decision-making power is not in his hands. If your Master wants to open that data, no one can stop him."

Corvin fell silent.

Because Nathan Doom was right. C-19 could make a promise, but C-19 was not the Emperor. The Emperor's command was above all else. If the Emperor ordered the red-marked data to be opened, C-19 would obey, Corvin would obey, everyone would obey.

"So you're gambling," Corvin said.

"I have always been gambling," Nathan Doom said. "For thirty years. Gambling every day. Gambling that those things wouldn't be discovered, gambling that no one would be stupid enough to open them, gambling that humanity still has enough reason to distinguish what should be touched and what shouldn't."

His finger fell onto the panel.

"Today, I gamble one last time."

He began to input commands.

Corvin watched his fingers move across the panel. The movements were slow, each key pressed with great force. The text on the panel changed.

[Identity Verification in Progress...]

[Heartbeat Match: Passed]

[Body Temperature Match: Passed]

[Brainwave Match: Passed]

[Triple Verification Complete]

[Self-Destruct System Control Access Unlocked]

Nathan Doom's finger stopped on the final button.

[Confirm Deactivation of Self-Destruct System?]

[Y / N]

He didn't press it immediately.

He stood there looking at that simple choice. Y or N.

"You are hesitating," Corvin said.

"I am thinking," Nathan Doom said. "I am thinking about what would happen if I pressed N."

"You would die."

"I know. But that data would die with me. Including the dangerous data."

He turned his head to look at Corvin.

"Maybe that would be the best outcome."

Corvin's finger tightened on the trigger.

"Don't be stupid," he said.

Nathan Doom looked at him, his gray eyes motionless in the darkness.

Then he laughed. A bitter, self-deprecating laugh.

"You're right," he said. "I've done enough stupid things."

He pressed Y.

[Self-Destruct System Deactivated]

[All Countdowns Cleared]

[Control Access Transferred to: Master Control System]

The red warnings on the screen vanished, replaced by a calm blue.

Nathan Doom withdrew his hand from the panel and let it hang at his side.

He stood there, unmoving.

Corvin looked at his back. Thirty years. This man had stood guard ten thousand meters under the sea for thirty years, guarding a database, guarding a pile of secrets he believed should never be opened.

Now, he had handed over the keys.

"Let's go," Corvin said.

Nathan Doom did not move.

"I said, let's go."

"I heard you," Nathan Doom said, his voice very soft. "Give me a second."

He closed his eyes.

His lips began to move slightly again. That low, twisted chanting sounded once more, echoing in the narrow corridor.

Corvin did not interrupt him.

The chanting lasted for about ten seconds.

Then Nathan Doom opened his eyes and turned to face Corvin.

"Alright," he said. "I am ready."

They did not speak on the way back to the entrance hall.

Nathan Doom walked in front, Corvin followed behind.

The footsteps of the two men echoed alternately in the corridor—one heavy, one light; one fast, one slow.

TW-156 and the two soldiers were further back, the sound of their boots on the metal floor dull and rhythmic.

When they were almost at the hall, Nathan Doom suddenly stopped.

"One more thing," he said.

"What?"

"You asked me why I told you those things."

"You said it was because I am dying."

"That was one reason," Nathan Doom said. "There is another."

He turned around.

"You are the first Thunder Warrior I have seen up close," he said. "Before you, I only saw you on the battlefield. From afar, through binoculars, watching you crush my soldiers."

His gaze fell on Corvin's face—on the scar that cut diagonally from forehead to chin, and the bionic eye flickering with red light.

"But you are not a machine," Nathan Doom said. "You can feel fear, you can think, and you hesitate before killing."

Corvin looked at him.

"What are you trying to say?"

"I want to say," Nathan Doom's voice became very slow, "your Master created you, used you, and then will discard you. This is not a guess; it is an inevitability. Your genes are collapsing, your body is decaying, you won't live much longer. When you die, he will create new, better, more obedient soldiers to replace you."

"I know," Corvin said.

"You know, but you don't care."

"I care," Corvin said. "But what's the use of caring?"

Nathan Doom looked at him. Something flashed in his gray eyes. It wasn't sympathy; it was closer to a confirmation.

"Remember your name," Nathan Doom said.

"I don't have a name."

"Then give yourself one."

Corvin opened his mouth, then closed it again.

"Let's go," he said.

In the entrance hall, C-19 was already waiting for them.

He stood by the platform with his hands behind his back, watching the two men emerge from the corridor.

Behind him stood ten fully armed Thunder Warriors, their muzzles pointed down but ready to be raised at any moment.

"Is it done?" C-19 asked.

"It's done," Corvin said. "The Self-Destruct System has been deactivated."

C-19 nodded.

His gaze moved to Nathan Doom.

The man stood behind Corvin with his hands at his sides, his gray eyes looking at C-19 calmly. A faint, almost imperceptible smile hung at the corner of his mouth.

"Nathan Doom," C-19 said. "Former ruler of the Pan-Pacific Empire. From now on, you are a prisoner of the Empire."

"The Empire," Nathan Doom repeated the word. "You haven't even finished choosing a name, yet you've already started taking prisoners."

C-19 ignored him.

"Take him up," he said to the soldiers behind him.

Two Thunder Warriors stepped forward and stood on either side of Nathan Doom. They didn't touch him, but the shadows of their two suits of power armor completely enveloped him.

Nathan Doom did not resist.

He followed the two soldiers toward the lift platform.

When he reached the edge of the platform, he stopped.

"C-19," he called out.

C-19 looked at him.

"What you promised me," Nathan Doom said. "Don't forget it."

C-19 was silent for a second.

"I won't forget."

Nathan Doom nodded.

Then he stepped onto the lift platform.

The platform began to rise.

Corvin stood in the hall, watching the figure in golden armor slowly ascend, growing smaller and smaller until he finally disappeared into the darkness of the shaft.

The hall fell silent.

All that remained was the faint hum of the luminous material on the walls and the sound of air flowing from a distant ventilation duct.

"Corvin," C-19's voice came from behind him.

"Sir."

"Are you alright?"

Corvin looked down at his left hand.

It was shaking.

"I'm alright," he said.

C-19 walked to his side and stood with him, looking in the direction where the lift platform had disappeared.

"What did he say to you?"

Corvin thought for a moment.

"He said to give myself a name."

C-19 was silent for a long time.

"Do you plan to?"

Corvin did not answer.

He just stood there, looking up at the dark mouth of the shaft.

TW-201 stood in the corner of the hall, watching all of this.

He saw Nathan Doom being taken away. He saw Corvin standing still. He saw C-19 walk up to Corvin and say something.

He couldn't hear what they were saying; the distance was too great.

But he could see Corvin's left hand.

That hand had been shaking the whole time.

TW-201 looked down at his own hand.

Steady. Not shaking at all.

He had only been out of the factory for five days. His genetic sequence was brand new, his body was perfect, and every muscle, bone, and nerve was in peak condition.

But he knew that one day, his hand would also start to shake.

Maybe in a year. Maybe sooner.

He clenched his fist, then released it.

Then he walked toward Corvin.

"Squad Leader."

Corvin turned his head.

"What is it?"

TW-201 opened his mouth to say something, but didn't know how to say it.

Finally, he said, "We should go up."

Corvin glanced at him.

"Yeah," he said. "It's time to go up."

They walked toward the lift platform.

C-19 was already waiting there. He stood in the center of the platform with his hands behind his back, looking at the distant, faint point of light overhead. That was the sunlight on the sea's surface, passing down through the ten-thousand-meter shaft, nearly invisible.

"Full evacuation," C-19 said. "Leave two squads to guard the Deep Palace. Everyone else, go up."

The platform began to rise.

Corvin leaned against the railing and closed his eyes.

His left hand was still shaking.

But his right hand was steady. Steady as it gripped the Bolter that had been with him for a year.