The team entered the water according to the guidance, and their position wasn't far from HZ-17. Chai Yuan quickly confirmed the designation and used his wrist-device to open the metal door. What came into view first was a collapsed zone behind it—equipment whose full form could not be discerned was piled together, exposing numerous sharp cross-sections.
Originally, these things should have each served their own function, installed intact within this protective equipment room. Now they had been reduced to this state, clearly indicating that the internal protective structure was also in dire condition.
"Watch out for the cuts and suspended debris. Move carefully and slowly."
Listening to Chai Yuan's steady reminder, Liang Qiao did his best to slow his breathing and movements, following his teammates ahead as they swam slowly through the metal door. His heartbeat had somehow become unusually pronounced—thud after thud, echoing heavily within his body.
The space inside the metal door was extremely cramped, and with the obstruction of so much collapsed debris, every forward movement became even more difficult. Chai Yuan took a rough look at the situation inside and said, "The last four in the rear, stop following. Return to the hatch and check the nodes around HZ-17 to ensure no contamination sources have been missed."
Several clear confirmations came through the public channel, each person repeating Chai Yuan's instructions before quickly turning back and leaving.
After a few faint disturbances in the water, those remaining at the HZ-17 node continued forward. Floating debris occasionally brushed against their protective suits without making a sound. After advancing roughly a hundred meters, the team was finally blocked by a wall.
This was what they needed to seal—an inert composite sealing layer used to isolate contamination, commonly known as static seal rock.
This artificially generated rock-like composite material consisted of three parts: a dense inert skeleton, a contamination isolation layer, and a slow-release stabilization layer. In the engineering assessments of its time, it had been nearly perfect—it could be poured in place underwater, was highly compatible with the surrounding rock formations, and required no continuous energy maintenance. Its only drawback was that once formed, it could not be partially dismantled, only manually repaired.
In theory, this type of material had a lifespan of 300 to 500 years. Yet it had only held out for less than seventy years before showing signs of decline. Although Liang Qiao was unaware of the overall assessment report for the Delta River landfill site, judging by the behavior of Chai Yuan and the others, this was clearly not the first time something like this had happened.
The protests against Delta River had been going on for a long time.
…
The repair work was carried out by several more senior specialists. It required inserting expandable isolation bladders into the fissures and then injecting a static medium into them. The entire process demanded extremely high precision and was performed simultaneously with mechanical arms. Liang Qiao, Xi Yan, and the others were arranged to observe and wait from behind, so that nothing other than the water current might disturb the operators.
Once everyone was in position, the operation entered a static phase. Everyone fell silent, with only the near-absent sound of flowing water in their ears—so faint that one had to concentrate to hear even a trace of it.
Their protective suits were sustained by solid-state chemical oxygen-releasing materials, which, together with backup blocks, allowed them to remain underwater for a total of six hours. Nearly half of that time had already passed. After accounting for the distance needed to return, they had less than ninety minutes of operational time remaining.
Time ticked by, second by second.
Waiting quietly in this environment was the most torturous thing of all—the underwater space was completely enclosed and dark, with no light source other than the illumination lamps. Although they had long known that this river had been polluted to the point where no living creature could survive, people always instinctively feared the unknown, even imagining that something enormous was swimming back and forth in that bottomless darkness.
Under prolonged exposure to such conditions, the mind was clearly more prone to breaking down than the body. Liang Qiao occasionally reached out to brush aside the drifting debris flowing past her, when it suddenly occurred to her that she hadn't yet told Chu Hui about this.
Because of the need to wear their equipment, their Terminals had been stored together before departure. Even if they managed to leave this place safely a few hours later, they couldn't directly contact the outside world—they would still need to be isolated for 8 to 16 hours. By the time she could get in touch with Chu Hui, it would be tomorrow at the earliest.
…She wondered how many messages he would have sent.
She tried to focus on Chu Hui's face, on his words, on Pei Qiansu, on the members of Group 1, on some corner of her home—this was the method Chai Yuan had told her about before her and Xi Yan's first dive—concrete things could keep a person aware of their own existence, preventing them from losing themselves in this boundless darkness.
But her thoughts wandered round and round, and in the end, they involuntarily drifted deeper—the same area, the same river. Had Liang Kuo and Huo Qingran also died in this suffocating silence?
"Bee—" A piercing distress alarm suddenly blared, like lightning striking straight into the ears. After a burst of crackling static, a hurried voice came through the public channel, speaking rapidly: "HZ-21 has a leak, HZ-21 has a leak, Eve is injured, we need rescue."
Hearing that someone was injured, Xi Yan instinctively responded: "Location!"
"Above the HZ-22 node."
Chai Yuan made a snap decision and said: "Liang Qiao, Xi Yan, Yinhu, go provide support. If the situation is severe, bring the injured back immediately. The rest of you, hand over the injured and return to Node 17."
"Understood, departing now to provide support."
Several illumination lamps swayed, converging to light the path ahead of them. Liang Qiao swam out of HZ-17 and followed the numbered markers to Node 21.
The metal door of HZ-21 was closed, and they couldn't tell what was happening inside. Several dark figures were gathered not far away, surrounding the person in the middle.
Seeing figures approaching, the teammate tending to Eve immediately shifted. Xi Yan, swimming up close, immediately called out in a sharp voice: "Don't move."
"What are you doing? The situation is critical—take Eve up now!"
Xi Yan steadied the terrified Eve, still insisting: "Don't move, let me see the wound first!"
The wound was on her right arm. Both the outer composite membrane and the inner lining of the protective suit had been torn, and blood was slowly seeping out, forming a small patch of dark stain in the dim light.
After observing for a few seconds, Xi Yan grabbed hold of Eve's arm and said: "You all go. Liang Qiao, come over and grab her."
The others hesitated, emphasizing again: "Take her up."
"She's already infected—a second earlier or later makes no difference!" With lives at stake, Xi Yan's tone grew more urgent. Liang Qiao grabbed Eve with one hand and pressed down on her forearm with the other, saying to the group: "We'll be going up right away."
"You'd better know what you're doing." A disagreement in such a dangerous environment was the last thing anyone wanted. The departing teammate could only offer a stern warning, glancing back as he disappeared into the darkness ahead, guided by the numbered markers.
"Silver Lake, grab Eve's leg—keep her from shaking." Back in her own domain of expertise, Xi Yan quickly regained her composure. After steadying Eve's trembling, she immediately activated the local isolation mode on Eve's wrist-device. The micro pressure valve inside the protective suit closed at the forearm, temporarily cutting off the wounded area from the overall circulation loop. Within seconds, oxygen supply and temperature control dropped rapidly to critical levels.
"Breathe slowly, don't be nervous, trust me," Xi Yan reassured Eve even as she reassured herself. She opened the emergency kit on the inside of her own suit with one hand, pulled out a short syringe, and muttered under her breath: "You can do this, you can do this, you can do this…"
The syringe was specially formulated, but it wouldn't hold up long under the water pressure. After three seconds of preparation, Xi Yan acted decisively, pushing the compound steadily into Eve's body. She then pulled out an emergency sealing patch and pressed it over the wound. The patch softened rapidly upon contact with body heat, spreading along the tear in the suit, embedding itself into the fabric layers like a living thing, forming a temporary seal.
"Go!" With the emergency treatment done, Xi Yan stuffed the empty syringe back into her kit and pushed Eve upward, saying, "Hold onto her—don't let her shake!"
Liang Qiao silently took on the role of pathfinder, gripping Eve's arm while guiding the way back. The three of them had to monitor Eve's condition in real time while making a rapid return, keeping their minds and bodies on edge the entire way. By the end, they were nearly trembling, their teeth chattering from the strain.
Fortunately, with Liang Qiao clearing the path, they didn't waste any extra time in the darkness. They followed the wrist-device precisely to the vessel waiting at the dive point. The medical team had already been alerted and stood at the front of the ship to receive them. Once the unconscious Eve was handed over to them, the three had exhausted their strength—Xi Yan, in particular, collapsed to the deck the moment she climbed aboard.
"Are you alright!" A medic came to support her. She waved a hand and said, "I'm fine, just need a moment to rest."
Standing nearby, Liang Qiao belatedly felt the ache in his calves. He took two steps, bent his knees, and sat down beside her. Silver Lake simply flopped onto the ground face-first. The three of them sprawled haphazardly together in a heap.
"Are you alright?" Silver Lake asked again.
Xi Yan stared at the pitch-black sky and shook her head. Liang Qiao let out a low "mm" in response. After a moment, he asked again: "Eve will be fine, right?"
Xi Yan's voice was slightly hoarse. "Infection was sealed off within seven minutes—of course she'll be fine," she said, adding a joke: "What, doubting my professional skills?"
"No," Silver Lake said. "It's just that this is my first time seeing an underwater rescue."
"What do you mean?" Xi Yan asked, puzzled. "There haven't been any before?"
"Right. No one from the medical team could take on underwater missions," Silver Lake said. "A few came before, from Landu or the New District—they were all assigned here during their evaluation period. Whether they passed or not, once it was over, they left."
Xi Yan turned her head to look at him, hardly able to believe it. "…How is that possible? This place is so dangerous—how could there be not a single one…"
She didn't finish the sentence, because Yin Hu's expression had already said it all.
"In past incidents, the first priority was always to get people to the surface immediately. If it was quick, they could be saved; if too much time passed, it wasn't guaranteed."
So that was why the team member underwater had been so stern just now.
Xi Yan stammered, asking, "But… why?"
Yin Hu asked, "You already said the reason yourself—because this place is dangerous."
He shrugged, offering a bitter smile, and asked, "If it were you, would you stay here?"
Xi Yan fell silent—of course she wouldn't.
The Federation's resources had never been tilted toward the Old Third District. Fewer than ten students graduated from the FMEA program at Langria Federal Academy every five years. People like that, if not for the evaluation period, would never set foot in this place in their entire lives.
"What about you?" Yin Hu looked at Liang Qiao.
"No." She stared motionlessly at the sky, answering the question almost without hesitation.
Due to the HZ-21 complication, this underwater mission lasted a full three days. The two teams took turns diving in four-hour shifts, and ultimately succeeded in sealing the fissure in the Static Seal Rock. The remaining pollution cleanup was left to the second and third operation lines. The group returned to shore and entered the temporary base set up in the outer containment zone, beginning a series of checks and quarantine.
They had spent too long underwater and needed a transition space to prevent microvascular damage or gas embolism from rapid decompression. After entering the negative-pressure buffer chamber, the Alphas and Betas consciously separated, entering through different doors.
The protective suits worn for three days were removed and placed into contamination bins, revealing deep indentations across their bodies. Liang Qiao reached out and touched them—no sensation yet, though she couldn't tell if they would worsen later.
Several loose medical garments were delivered through the contactless transfer port. She picked one up, put it on, and casually found a berth to sit on.
Xi Yan chose the spot next to her. She lay for a while, unable to sleep, then turned onto her side to look at her, asking, "What are you thinking about?"
She had expected Liang Qiao to say she was thinking about the underwater conditions or the situation in the Old Third District, but instead she paused, then said, "Thinking about my boyfriend."
Xi Yan was momentarily at a loss for words, wearing an expression of "I shouldn't have asked." She said, "What's there to think about him for?"
Liang Qiao lay down, saying, "Thinking about whether he'll cry if I suddenly disappear."
…
They had spent too long underwater, so the quarantine period was extended to 72 hours, with three fixed check-ups per day. They weren't permitted to leave the contaminated outer zone until the third operation line concluded. But after returning to the Security Bureau, those who had been in close contact with Eve still had to report to the Medical Pod.
"Last 8 hours," the medical staff said after completing their checks, leading them to individual isolation rooms and returning their personal belongings. "Press the call button immediately if you feel any discomfort."
Liang Qiao nodded in acknowledgment. "Thank you."
Once the isolation door was shut, Liang Qiao crouched down and opened the storage bin. Inside were the items she had uniformly stored away while gearing up at the wind platform—clothes, shoes, a ring, an unsumbitted debriefing report, and her Terminal wristband.
The moment it touched her wrist, the Terminal automatically recognized the user's identity and projected a default-sized light screen. Liang Qiao tapped an unread message, and the screen rapidly expanded, clearly displaying several chat windows side by side before her.
Unsurprisingly, the most messages came from Chu Hui, though not as many as she had imagined. Liang Qiao didn't rush to read the earlier ones; she first replied to him: "I'm fine."
After waiting a moment with no response, she began scrolling through the unread messages. The system defaulted to displaying them from earliest to latest, so she read through them in order.
—About to head home. Message me when you're back at the dorm.
—Bought new clothes. Like them? I'll wear them for you tonight.
—Does submitting a debriefing report really take this long?
—Where are you where are you where are you where are you?
—Didn't you say you'd be free once the report was turned in today? Did you go eat? Why didn't you tell me?
—Forget it, never mind. You don't have to tell me where you are. It's your freedom. Talking to other Omegas is fine too. Ignoring me is fine too.
—Liang Qiao, you're dead.
The record ended there. The timestamp on the last message was 11:37 PM on May 23rd—the night of the Contaminant Dispersion Event. No new messages had come in the days after.
That really didn't seem like Chu Hui's style.
After thinking for two seconds, Liang Qiao furrowed her brows slightly and directly initiated a call. About half a minute later, the call connected, and Chu Hui's deliberately lowered voice came through: "Liang Qiao, I—"
She cut him off immediately, asking, "Where are you?"
He hesitated, then said, "I—"
Liang Qiao confirmed her suspicion from his hesitation and asked in a low voice, "Are you in Cangshan City?"
He fell silent.
After two or three seconds of stalemate, Chu Hui's emotions suddenly gave way. His voice sounded choked, as if something were lodged in his throat, and he said in a low, aggrieved tone: "I won't break up…"
Liang Qiao understood at once. A wave of indescribable emotion surged through her chest, which rose and fell slightly as she asked, "Where are you right now?"
Chu Hui said pitifully, "The Public Security Bureau…"
Then he quickly explained, "I came with the research institute. I didn't sneak over alone… You can't break up with me…"
Liang Qiao said, "Didn't I tell you it's dangerous here?"
"Mm…"
This mission was a sudden incident, and the secrecy hadn't been well maintained. But what the public knew was only that another Contaminant Dispersion Event had occurred in the Delta River—something that happened at least a dozen times a year, hardly unusual. There was no way Chu Hui would come all the way from Landu for such an ordinary occurrence, unless he knew exactly how severe the crisis and the specifics of this contamination spread were.
"It was your brother who told you." Liang Qiao quickly figured out the connection—Chu Hui had likely gone to find Chu You the very night she went silent, and as a senior official of the Haiti Management General Administration, Chu You naturally had the clearance to know what happened at the Delta River. On top of that, since the Federation's Shipborne Research Institute fell under the technical division of the Union Security Agency, a research team was always dispatched after major incidents to conduct material analysis, so Chu Hui had simply tagged along on this trip.
"I've been doing my job properly—I did data analysis, I reviewed a lot of material footage, I didn't just come here for you. I was just worried, I wanted to be closer to you," he said, growing more aggrieved with each word. "I was wrong, Liang Qiao. Don't break up with me."
For a long moment, all she could hear from the other end was increasingly obvious sobbing. She could never do anything about his tears, so she asked helplessly, "How did your brother agree to this?"
Chu Hui said, "I threatened him. I said if anything happened to you, I wouldn't want to live either, and I'd send the video of him drunk to his ex-girlfriend."
"…" Liang Qiao was momentarily speechless, then asked, "…Where are you now?"
Chu Hui sniffled and said, "The Pheromone Processing Room on the first floor."
"…Alright, stop crying."
"Are you not mad at me anymore?"
"I didn't say that."
"I really know I was wrong, don't be mad at me," Chu Hui said in a muffled voice. "I've been miserable too. You have no idea how I've been these past few days. You disappeared without telling me, for so long, and I could only go ask my brother… Cangshan City was already dangerous to begin with, and the contamination at the Delta River landfill was so severe. You'd only been here three months, and suddenly you had to go into the deep contamination zone—what if you got hurt? What if you ran out of oxygen? What if something happened?"
"…You said you were coming back, and then you vanished again. Do you know how scared I was? You never thought about how I'd feel—you just blamed me, and you wanted to break up with me…"
"…" Liang Qiao said, "I never said that either."
"I love you, Liang Qiao," he said. The timing of the confession was a little inappropriate, but it truly was what he wanted to say most at that moment. "So I'm controlled by my feelings. You can't expect me not to worry about you at all."
"…"
"Why aren't you saying anything?"
"…I'm a little unused to it."
"Unused to what?"
A note of embarrassed resignation crept into Liang Qiao's voice as she said, "Unused to someone worrying about me this much."
…
After the 8-hour quarantine period ended, Liang Qiao saw Chu Hui at the entrance of the Medical Pod for the first time in months.
Looking at him face to face, she noticed his hair had grown down to his shoulders, and with the scattered bangs falling across his forehead, he looked very docile and gentle.
He wasn't in great shape—days of rushing around for work and heavy worry had left him looking haggard. The moment he saw her, his lips pressed together and his eyes reddened with that familiar aggrieved look. Unfortunately, the two of them couldn't touch in the busy doorway of the Medical Pod, so they could only walk one after the other toward the dormitory area.
The dormitory wasn't close to the Medical Pod. Liang Qiao led the way, and Chu Hui followed at a moderate distance behind her. They walked through nearly half of the Security Bureau before Chu Hui remembered that this was how it had often been when they were secretly dating back in Langria—from the library to the cafeteria to the dormitory, always keeping a certain distance, hidden among the crowd.
The dormitory rooms were all singles. Liang Qiao lived on the seventh floor, directly across from Xi Yan. Chu Hui followed her upstairs, but at the last moment, fear crept back in. He walked over slowly and saw her leaning against the low cabinet by the door, waiting for him. Her gaze was gentle—neither angry nor cold.
In that instant, all the suppressed emotions of the past few days surged up, overwhelming him. He couldn't bear it any longer. He stepped forward and threw himself into her arms, letting out faint, choked sobs from his throat.
The lights in the room were off, with only the dim, eerie blue glow from outside filtering through the window. Liang Qiao held him, reminded of the riverbed she had just recently dived into—except this time, there was a real person in her arms, and she didn't have to deliberately chase after anything.
She hugged him tightly, and only then, belatedly, felt a wave of lingering fear.
So she had been afraid too.
Her heart softened along with it. Liang Qiao lowered her head, pressing her forehead against his, and reached up to pat his shoulder soothingly.
Chu Hui, his voice thick with tears, said, "I hate you."
Liang Qiao felt his soft hair tips brushing lightly against the back of her hand. "You said you liked me just a moment ago."
…
Liang Qiao's mission had temporarily come to an end, but Chu Hui's material evaluation work was only just beginning. After a brief meeting in the dormitory, the two quickly went their separate ways to attend to their duties, and it wasn't until the following evening that they saw each other again.
Chu Hui had stayed up the entire night. The moment he entered, he collapsed wearily into Liang Qiao's arms, breathing in the faint bitter fragrance of her pajamas with a sense of security. She caught the person in her embrace, said nothing, and with a slight exertion of strength in her lowered hand, lifted him and carried him toward the bed.
"Change your clothes."
Supporting him with one hand, she rolled up the hem of his shirt with the other. Chu Hui raised his arms and let her maneuver him, his body swaying this way and that, until finally he lay naked on Liang Qiao's bed.
"Wear my pajamas first."
He felt like he heard her, but his drowsy thoughts couldn't process it, so he could only mumble a vague "mm" in response. The next moment, an ankle was caught by a hand, and the overly familiar touch made him instinctively spread his legs toward the person behind him, even arching his lower back slightly higher.
After a brief silence, his buttocks received a slap—not too hard, not too soft. Chu Hui was momentarily stunned by the hit, but he was too exhausted to turn his head around. Hugging the pillow, he asked plaintively, "Why did you hit me…"
Liang Qiao helped him pull up his pants and said, "You were asking for it."
"I wasn't…" His protest was barely audible, and it seemed he truly was too sleepy to stay coherent. Liang Qiao helped him put on the top, then sat against the headboard, half-holding him in her arms.
A thin thread of consciousness kept him tethered, just enough for him to remember to lift his head and ask for what he was owed. "Kiss…"
Liang Qiao's fingertips traced his slender neck, and she lowered her head to place a light kiss on his forehead.
The familiar pheromone wound around him like silk threads, weaving into the softest warm nest for a weary bird, enveloping him without any barrier.
Finally, he could sleep in peace.
…
When he woke again, it was another day. No one was beside him, and he was wearing Liang Qiao's pajamas. Chu Hui sat in place, dazed for a while, then called out Liang Qiao's name in a hoarse voice.
The person who heard him emerged from the other compartment. "You're awake?"
He asked, "How long did I sleep?"
She glanced at the time and said, "Around fourteen hours."
"Is the mission over?"
"Mm, it's in the final stages."
Hearing this, he finally relaxed, his body going limp along with his relief. He propped himself up with his arms behind him and casually looked around Liang Qiao's dormitory.
A small bedroom plus a small compartment, no kitchen, simple furnishings—everything he'd seen in the holographic video was now materialized before his eyes, along with the person standing in front of him.
When Liang Qiao walked to the bedside, he naturally reached out and wrapped his arms around her waist, pressing his soft cheek against her hip and lower abdomen, nuzzling gently. "I missed you so much."
Liang Qiao didn't say anything, just placed her hand on his shoulder. After a moment, that hand slowly slid down to his waist—the person in her arms knelt upright, looped his arms around her neck, and tilted his head up to kiss her.
Pressing lips together, parting them, intertwining—Liang Qiao moved in sync with his movements, unhurriedly tracing every soft spot inside his mouth with her tongue, until both their tongues began to grow numb. Yet it was Chu Hui, who had taken the initiative to lure her into his mouth, who showed signs of weakness first, his tightly shut eyelids trembling slightly as a hint of moisture seeped from their edges.
"Hah… wait…" His chest rose and fell rapidly as he tried to turn his face away to catch his breath, but the moment his lips parted even slightly, a hand grabbed his jaw and forced it back, leaving him no room to move as he was pulled into the kiss once more.
Chu Hui's eyes widened slightly.
Liang Qiao rarely forced him to do anything—of course, this level of intensity wasn't exactly force to him, but for her, it was an uncommon move. Chu Hui stared at her closed lashes for a moment, feeling his heartbeat thunder in his throat and ears.
…He couldn't take it.
He loved every version of Liang Qiao, but he was especially captivated by the rare glimpses of possessiveness or longing she showed toward him. At that thought, his body instinctively pressed closer, her warm hand pressing against his waist and hip.
Her voice came out breathless with restraint, hoarse as she asked, "Why are you trembling."
His legs went weak.
…
The time and place weren't right, and Chu Hui couldn't do what he wanted, but fortunately, this Contaminant Dispersion Event had been resolved smoothly, and Liang Qiao would soon finish her evaluation period and return to Landu.
The night before leaving Cangshan City, Xi Yan invited her and the rest of the combat team to dinner. After this underwater mission, everyone's relationships had grown closer—especially knowing that Eve had safely passed the critical period, no one's mood was as heavy as before. Instead, it felt peaceful, more like a celebration of surviving disaster.
After several rounds of drinks, everyone was still chatting endlessly. Liang Qiao wasn't one for talking, so she naturally didn't join in, occasionally taking a sip from her cup. Chai Yuan, sitting nearby, looked at her and said, "Want to go for a walk outside?"
Liang Qiao agreed.
Their dinner spot was on the main street of Cangshan City, which should have been the most bustling area of any city, but a glance around showed only sparse figures. The two walked side by side, neither speaking first.
When they neared the end of the street, Chai Yuan led her to turn in a new direction, tilting her head slightly as she gazed into the distance and said, "Look."
She looked up along with her and saw the Statue of Mia.
The Statue of Mia was a creation from hundreds of years ago, when this continent still faced power struggles, famine, and war—until a political faction gained popular support through theological doctrine and began ruling the people in the name of their god.
The Statue of Mia was the most iconic symbol of that era, carved from the foundation of a massive mountain range, standing at the edge of this city for millennia. Liang Qiao had once approached it, her tiny figure like a grain of sand lying at its feet.
Immensity always demands dissolution—stone steps shrink, shadows shorten, everything becomes thin and insubstantial before such overwhelming scale, until even the act of "approaching" feels deliberate, as if it isn't you walking toward it, but the surrounding space-time collapsing toward a still, eternal core. Grass and trees, living creatures, tourists' murmurs, the passage of time—all frames of reference dissolve and fail at its knees, leaving only existence itself.
At this moment, Liang Qiao stood far enough away to gaze upon it—the deity's brows lowered, eyes cast down, overlooking the city, its massive brow ridge casting deep shadows, yet its smiling face was covered in scorch marks and mottled stains.
That was the pollution caused by the long-term presence of Aerosol Compounds. Just like the Delta River, which had not been clear for nearly a century, the solidified pollutants adsorbed sulfur dioxide and water from the air, causing the rock-carved visage to corrode and flake away.
…
Even the gods were like this.
"Let's go." Liang Qiao's voice scattered in the evening breeze as her tall, slender figure walked away, turning her back on the statue.
On May 27th, Liang Qiao and Xi Yan completed their evaluation and training period and returned to Landu to participate in the final qualification review. After passing the final physical examination, they boarded an Air-ship to the Union Security Agency's main base along with the rest of their cohort.
After a journey of roughly two hours, they caught sight of their destination's silhouette through the narrow porthole—unlike the tall buildings of the Landu office, the Union Security Agency's main base was located in the highland buffer zone between the New District and the Old Third District, far from the city. Originally a stretch of exposed rocky plain eroded by torrential rains, it had been entirely transformed into a complex of buildings with the highest safety coefficient. Not only had the entire terrain been artificially elevated, but the rock layers had also been reinforced. The underground structure extended more than three hundred meters downward, forming a multi-layered, sealed infrastructure network.
Liang Qiao had been here during training, but at that time, their initial assembly point had been in a nearby city called Rocksea, from which they had driven to an edge training area dozens of kilometers from the base's core zone. They had never left that area until the end of training. Only today did she truly see the full scope of this base for the first time—
On the gray, dusty earth lay continuous, low-lying metal structures. Along their contour lines, one could faintly discern the dark gray reflections on their surfaces, which, from this perspective, almost blended seamlessly into the environment.
As their line of sight descended, these low-lying metal structures gradually grew taller. What the eyes could take in grew less and less, until finally only a single, massive alloy interface remained, stretching horizontally.
It was a door that seemed almost fused with the rock layers.
After passing through the gate, the view opened up dramatically. The main building complex unfolded in a circular arrangement, with elevated tracks and sealed transport pipelines cutting through it in intricate patterns. The building surfaces were covered in information interfaces with varying light adjustments and environmental sensing layers, capable of displaying internal operational status and security levels in real time. Liang Qiao's gaze swept across this awe-inspiring scene before she stepped into the main building with the crowd.
Broad corridors, steady lighting, multi-level compartments stacked according to functional zones—everyone walked and looked as they went—command center, risk simulation rooms, data warehouses, operations dispatch bays. Occasionally, uniformed personnel passed by, casting a quick glance at them before hurrying away.
After a brief tour, the group was led into a conference room at the end of the corridor. Jiang Changqing, the director of the Union Security Agency, arrived shortly after, and the senior officials following behind him took their seats in the semi-arcuate chairs in the front row.
What a long speech.
The more Liang Qiao listened, the more her gaze drifted. Her mind wandered far away, thinking of this and that, until someone distributed several documents to them, asking them to carefully consider before signing.
She flipped through them casually. At the top of the documents were several large characters: Duty and Risk Notification, Confidentiality and Restriction Clauses.
She signed, submitted, and Jiang Changqing at the very front stood up first, leading the way as the prelude to the national anthem began to play in the conference hall.
In the solemn atmosphere, Jiang Changqing began to lead everyone in taking the oath, speaking word by word: "I hereby solemnly swear."
Everyone followed sentence by sentence: "I hereby solemnly swear."
"I will devote my life and honor…"
"I will devote my life and honor…"
…
"I hereby solemnly swear:
I will devote my life and honor to the cause of Federation citizens' safety, unwaveringly defending the right of all citizens to exist among the stars, regardless of gender, background, or station in life—every citizen shall enjoy a space of freedom, dignity, and equality.
I pledge to be loyal to truth and justice, to never compromise for profit, prejudice, or fear, to speak for the voiceless, to fight for the weak, to stand fearless against tyranny and oppression, to expose and resist all exploitation of and harm to citizens' lives, and no matter what threats or challenges I face, to guard the Federation's peace and order unto my last breath.
Interstellar Calendar 3796, oath-taker, Liang Qiao."