34: Collapse Echo

The Seventh Shelter was dying.

The groaning of metal, the cracking of concrete, the muffled explosions of overloaded energy pipelines, and the desperate screams of humans dying, along with the insatiable roars of Corruptors, together played a symphony of destruction. The entire underground space, like the hollowed-out organs of a giant beast, was disintegrating in its final spasms.

Lin Mo sprinted along the emergency evacuation route scanned by the editor. The metal grating under his feet shook violently, hot sparks and cold debris constantly fell from above, and pungent smoke filled the air, obstructing his vision. A milky white glow shimmered around his body, like a faint but resilient energy field, gently pushing away falling debris and pervasive dust—this was the passive protection naturally derived from the editor after the initial fusion of the seed of source blood.

His perception was several times sharper than before. Not only could he clearly “hear” the groans of the architectural structure buckling under pressure, but he could also capture the flames of life, like candles in the wind, scattered throughout the ruins. Most were rapidly extinguishing, buried by collapses, or torn apart by unseen fear and physical claws.

He couldn't save everyone. The editor operated at high speed, outlining the optimal, and only possible, path to take some survivors—towards a small hangar located at the edge of the Shelter's middle level. Light aircraft used for emergency material transport and external reconnaissance were usually parked there.

“Help… help!”

A faint female voice came from a half-collapsed passage to the side. Lin Mo paused, and the editor instantly marked three clustered life signals there, one of which was exceptionally weak.

He changed direction without hesitation, rushing into the dust-filled passage. Several people in researcher's white coats were trapped in a corner by collapsed pipes and building materials. One young woman's leg was pinned by a heavy metal beam, blood staining the ground. The other two were futilely trying to lift the metal beam, their faces filled with despair.

Seeing Lin Mo appear, especially the strange and serene glow around him, hope instantly flared in the eyes of the two researchers.

“Help us! Please!”

Lin Mo wasted no words. He extended his hand, palm facing the heavy metal beam. This time, no complex commands were needed; with just a thought, the editor's energy, mixed with the power of the seed of source blood that stabilizes material structures, flowed out.

[Reality Editing · Material Weakening]

The structural strength of the alloy beam was temporarily and significantly reduced at a microscopic level, as if it had undergone centuries of corrosion in an instant.

“Crack…”

The two researchers felt the weight lighten in their hands. The incredibly heavy metal beam was easily pushed aside, even broken, by them! They had no time for surprise and quickly dragged their injured companion out.

“Follow me, don’t fall behind.” Lin Mo's voice was calm, carrying an unquestionable power. He turned and continued to run towards the hangar. The three researchers, including the injured one being supported, gritted their teeth and followed. In this dying hell, the milky white glow became their only guide.

The closer they got to the hangar, the more intense the chaos became. The breakdown of order unleashed the darkest side of human nature. Some people shot each other to contend for access to the blast door leading to a way out; some were overwhelmed by fear, huddling in corners awaiting death; others scurried around like headless flies, ultimately devoured by heavy objects falling from the ceiling or by Corruptors leaping from the shadows.

Lin Mo avoided these vortices of chaos as much as possible. The editor, like the most precise navigator, guided him through the still-stable structural gaps. Occasionally, some ignorant looters or low-level Corruptors attracted by corrupted energy tried to block them. He didn't even need to act personally; with just a glance, the editor could trigger subtle changes in the surrounding environment—perhaps a suddenly detached cable whipping out like a lash, perhaps a seemingly solid floor suddenly collapsing, or perhaps just an inexplicable illusion of fear abruptly rising in the opponent's mind—which was enough to clear the obstacles.

This subtle interference with reality consumed far less energy than the crude “disruption” or “strengthening” from before, yet the effect was more refined, carrying the nascent form of “what is said is done.” This was the manifestation of increased authority after fusing with the core fragment.

Finally, after passing through the last blast door that continuously opened and closed due to unstable power, they reached the target hangar.

Here, too, was a scene of chaos. The few remaining VTOL transport planes were crowded with people trying to board. The guards maintaining order had long lost control, and gunshots, cries, and the roar of engines mingled together. More people were searching for usable aircraft or escape pods.

Lin Mo's gaze quickly swept the hangar. Most aircraft were either already occupied or damaged in previous tremors. His editor's perception locked onto a medium-sized transport plane at the edge of the hangar, a “gray fin shark” that looked older and more worn, but whose structure seemed relatively intact. Its hatch was tightly closed, and fewer people gathered around it, perhaps because it required higher authorization to start or was considered unreliable in performance, thus abandoned.

This was it.

He led the three researchers directly towards the “gray fin shark.” Approaching the hatch, he extended his finger and lightly pressed the electronic lock's identification area. The editor's energy permeated it, not through violent cracking, but by simulating the highest authorization command frequency.

With a soft “beep,” the green light came on, and the heavy hatch slid open.

“Get in.” Lin Mo ordered curtly.

Just as they were about to board, a sharp voice rang out: “Stop! That's the Ministry of Technology's asset! You don't have authorization!”

Lin Mo turned around to see a middle-aged man in a Ministry of Technology uniform, pale-faced but with fierce eyes, rushing over with several armed guards. Their guns were pointed at Lin Mo and his group. Judging by his epaulets, he was of no low rank, likely an official responsible for hangar management.

“Now, it's a lifeboat.” Lin Mo replied calmly, without stopping.

“Take them down! Seize the aircraft!” the official shouted sharply.

The guards raised their guns, intending to fire. However, Lin Mo merely glanced at them indifferently.

[Cognitive Interference · Sensory Deprivation]

An invisible wave swept through.

The guards suddenly found that the scene before their eyes became blurred and distorted, their ears were filled with harsh static, and the feeling of holding the gun grip became strange and numb, as if they were wearing thick gloves. They tried to pull the trigger in horror, but couldn't precisely control their finger movements. Firing became aimless spraying, with most bullets hitting empty space or the ceiling, causing a wave of panic.

And the official felt a chill rise from his spine, as if targeted by some invisible primordial beast. Intense fear gripped his heart, making him almost unable to breathe, let alone issue commands.

Lin Mo ignored these temporarily neutralized people, escorting the three researchers to quickly board the plane. He was the last to enter, closing the hatch behind him, sealing off the chaos and madness outside.

The cabin was relatively tidy, but the control system was locked. Lin Mo sat directly in the pilot's seat, placing both hands on the control panel. The editor's energy surged in like a data stream, bypassing all authorization authentications and self-check procedures, forcefully activating the main power and lighting up the control screens.

“Navigation system damaged, external environment scan failed, autopilot cannot be engaged.” A somewhat knowledgeable researcher said in despair, looking at the red warnings flashing on the screen.

“No need.” Lin Mo closed his eyes. The entire hangar, and even the collapsing Shelter structure above, appeared in his perception as a three-dimensional, energy-flowing form. The spatial perception ability brought by the seed of source blood perfectly combined with the editor's computing power.

He manually pulled down the thrust lever!

The “gray fin shark's” engines let out a muffled roar, and blue ion streams spewed from its tail.

“Hold on tight.”

The transport plane jolted violently, shooting out of the tarmac like an arrow from a bow, narrowly avoiding a small reconnaissance plane that crashed into it due to loss of control. Then, at a nearly vertical and extremely perilous angle, it surged towards the emergency exit passage at the top of the hangar, which was slowly opening (intermittently due to unstable power)!

The passage was not wide and constantly had rubble and metal fragments falling. Lin Mo's hands moved quickly over the control stick and instrument panel, his movements so fluid it didn't look like he was piloting, but rather performing a precise dance. Under his control, the plane, as if alive, weaved left and right through the narrow, obstacle-filled passage. Each seemingly perilous brush with impact perfectly avoided a fatal collision.

This wasn't piloting skill; this was the “inevitable” result based on absolute perception and subtle reality modification.

A few seconds later, with a violent jolt and a screech of metal scraping, the “gray fin shark” burst out of the collapsing Shelter, returning to the surface!

However, the surface was not a place of hope.

Looking through the viewport, the sky was an eternal, hazy yellow, shrouded in thick dust and abnormal energy clouds. The land was shattered, and twisted, indescribable Corruptors roamed and fought among the ruins. In the distance, the city's former landmark buildings were only broken skeletons, like the remains of giant beasts. The air was filled with a mixed smell of radiation, decay, and sulfur.

The mountain where the Seventh Shelter was located was collapsing over a large area, raising towering dust, like a giant's tomb.

They had escaped, but only from a small hell into a larger, boundless wasteland hell.

The cabin was dead silent, with only the roar of the engine and the suppressed groans of the injured. The brief joy of being rescued was quickly drowned out by the desperate scene before them.

Lin Mo adjusted the flight direction, heading east towards what the editor had deduced, based on energy flow and residual information, might be the next relatively safe node (perhaps another small survivor outpost, or the general direction of other fragments sensed by the seed of source blood).

His face was somewhat pale. Continuous high-intensity use of his abilities, especially precise operations, greatly consumed his spirit and energy. The light of the jade slip in his sea of consciousness was also slightly dim, requiring time to settle and recover.

But his gaze remained firm.

He lowered his head, looking at his palm. A trace of milky white light flowed at his fingertips. He could not only perceive those vague “lighthouses” in the distance, but at this moment, he could also vaguely feel that the fragment he had initially fused with was creating a faint but continuous pull towards a specific direction in the distance.

That was not one of the randomly scattered fragments; that connection… was deeper, more ancient.

It was as if this “offspring” in his hand was calling out to its “mother” from afar.

A new goal had emerged.

And behind him, where he could not see, deep within the collapsing Shelter, beneath a twisted pile of rubble, a charred hand, mostly denuded of skin but still covered by the sleeve of a torn white coat, suddenly reached out from the debris! Its fingers convulsively clawed at the air, its nails scraping against rock with a teeth-grinding sound.

Zhou Weian… he was still alive. Although his breath was as faint as a thread, and his body was severely damaged, his eyes, filled with endless resentment and madness, glowed in the darkness like those of a ghost.