The workshop's overhead lights flickered as Old Jiang slammed a grease-stained datapad onto the workbench, sending a cluster of bolts clattering to the floor.
"Listen up, kid. Today's lesson separates survivors from corpses." Jiang's cybernetic eye whirred as it focused. "You need to understand the three pillars of this broken world—Beasts, Mechs, and Awakened. Screw this up, and you'll end up as some mutant's lunch before your next growth spurt."
Xing perked up from his nest of discarded wiring, his silver-marked ears twitching at Jiang's tone.
Yuchen straightened on his stool, wiping oil-stained hands on his pants. The old man hadn't been this intense since teaching him how to defuse plasma mines.
Jiang tapped the datapad. A holographic projection shimmered to life—a grotesque, multi-limbed creature with crystalline spikes protruding from its back.
"First—Mutated Beast Classification. Everything that wants to eat, impale, or dissolve you falls into one of seven ranks."
The hologram shifted to show a pack of rodent-like creatures with razor-sharp incisors.
"F-Rank: Feral Spawn. Bottom of the food chain." Jiang spat into a nearby oil can. "Basic mutations—sharper teeth, tougher hides. Annoying in packs, but any idiot with a pipe can kill one."
Yuchen nodded, remembering the Razor Rats he'd fought in Border City-17's ruins. "Xing's saliva paralyzes them."
"Which makes your mutt worth his weight in gold." Jiang zoomed in on the projection. "But here's what matters—F-Ranks are scouts. Where they swarm, bigger predators follow."
The image changed to a hulking boar wreathed in flames.
"E-Rank: Evolved Predators. Now we're talking real danger." Jiang pointed at the flaming tusks. "Organ-level mutations—fire glands, venom sacs, that sort of crap. Takes armor-piercing rounds or a well-placed plasma bolt to drop these bastards."
Yuchen's fingers twitched toward the scar on his ribs—a souvenir from a Flame Boar encounter last winter.
"See this?" Jiang tapped the projection where the beast's muscles pulsed unnaturally. "Enhanced physiology. They're faster, stronger, and smart enough to set ambushes."
Xing growled low in his throat, his markings glowing faintly.
The hologram dissolved into a towering mantis-like creature with translucent wings.
"D-Rank: Aberrant Hunters. This is where shit gets serious." Jiang's voice dropped. "Phantom Mantis—can turn near-invisible, cuts through steel like paper. Took out an entire Harbin patrol squad last year before the mechs scorched it."
Yuchen's mouth went dry. He'd seen the aftermath of that attack—sliced mech armor, bisected bodies...
"Multi-system mutations mean unpredictable abilities," Jiang continued. "Some spit acid. Others phase through walls. All will ruin your day."
The projection shifted to a storm cloud that resolved into a massive avian shape crackling with electricity.
"C-Rank: Storm Harrier." Jiang whistled. "One of these bastards took down a Sutherland gunship last month. Genetic restructuring means they break the laws of physics—elemental control, energy absorption, you name it."
Yuchen remembered the electric terror of their encounter in the canyon. "They're intelligent?"
"Damn right. Territorial too. If you see one, it's already decided whether you live or die."
The hologram flared red, displaying pixelated warnings.
"Above C-Rank? That's military-grade nightmares. B-Rank Catastrophic Anomalies warp reality around them. A-Rank Legendary Aberrations can level cities. And S-Rank?" Jiang made an explosive gesture. "Goodbye, continent."
Xing whined, burying his face in Yuchen's sleeve.
Jiang killed the projection. "But here's the kicker—classification markers." He pulled up a new screen:
"BIO: Pure physical mutations
PSY: Mind-fuckers
ELE: Fire, ice, lightning
DIM: Space-warping bastards
COR: Plague-spreaders"
Yuchen's head spun. "How do you fight something that—"
"By not fighting at all if you can help it." Jiang tossed him a wrench. "Which brings us to **Pillar Two: Mechs.**"
A new hologram appeared—a towering humanoid war machine bristling with weapons.
"Humanity's answer to getting eaten alive." Jiang patted the projection like an old friend. "Classified by size and combat rank."
He flicked through images:
"Micro-Frames (2-5m): Scouts and saboteurs
Light-Frames (5-12m): Your standard frontline fighters
Heavy-Frames (25-50m): Walking fortresses"
Yuchen's breath caught as the hologram settled on a sleek, avian-shaped mech.
"Combat Effectiveness Rank 4: Ace Customs." Jiang's eye gleamed. "Piloted by elites, customized to hell and back. This beauty? Sutherland's Void Stalker. Fast enough to dance around Storm Harriers."
Xing yipped, tail wagging at the shimmering image.
"Pay attention." Jiang zoomed in on the mech's joints. "Generations matter too. Most grunts pilot Gen-2 or Gen-3 models. But the big orgs? They're fielding **Gen-4 Neural-Links** where pilots sync with their mechs like second skins."
Yuchen's fingers itched. The Luo data chip had basic mech schematics, but this...
"Dreaming of piloting one?" Jiang smirked. "First, you learn to rebuild their power cores. Then we talk."
The final hologram showed a human silhouette wreathed in lightning.
"Pillar Three: Supernatural Abilities." Jiang's voice turned grim. "When the Cataclysm hit, some humans... changed."
The projection split into categories:
"Physical Enhancers - who punch through concrete
Elemental Benders - controlling fire and storm
Psychics - reading minds or moving shit with their brains"
Yuchen's throat tightened. "Are they—"
"Classified same as beasts? Damn right." Jiang tapped the display. "F-Rank awakenings are unstable kids. A-Ranks? Walking WMDs. The Luo Family's got one—some old bastard who manipulates gravity. Rumor says he once crushed a B-Rank beast into a marble."
Xing's ears flattened.
"Here's the kicker." Jiang leaned close. "Awakening Types. Most develop powers naturally during adolescence. But Trauma Awakenings?" He pointed at Yuchen's chest. "Those happen when death's breathing down your neck. Stronger, but way more dangerous."
Yuchen remembered the electric clarity of his fight with Lin Xiao—how his body had moved before his mind could think.
Jiang saw the realization dawning and nodded. "Yeah. That."
The workshop fell silent save for the hum of distant machinery.
Yuchen stared at the frozen holograms—beasts, mechs, awakened humans—the three forces shaping their broken world.
"You're teaching me this now because something's coming." It wasn't a question.
Jiang powered down the display. "The sabotage. The Luo chip. That stunt you pulled against the Ghosts?" He snorted. "Kid, the storm's already here."
Xing jumped into Yuchen's lap, his warm weight a silent promise.
Outside, the Shield of Harbin's energy field flickered against the gathering dark.
The night air in Harbin was thick with the scent of ozone and burning oil. Yuchen sat cross-legged on the workshop's roof, the Luo data chip clenched in his fist. Below, the city hummed—mech patrols rumbled through the streets, neon signs flickered in the smog-choked air, and somewhere in the distance, the Shield's energy barrier crackled against the wilderness beyond.
Xing lay beside him, his silver-marked fur glowing faintly under the moonlight. The pup had grown since they'd arrived in Harbin—his body leaner, his movements sharper, his golden eyes more knowing than any ordinary animal's should be.
Jiang's words from earlier echoed in Yuchen's mind:
"The storm's already here."
He turned the chip over in his fingers. Knowledge. A debt repaid. A test.
Or a trap.
Xing's ears twitched. A second later, Yuchen heard it too—boots on metal, the quiet click of a safety being disengaged.
He didn't move. Didn't tense. Just exhaled slowly and spoke to the empty air.
"You could've knocked."
A shadow detached itself from the ventilation shaft. Captain Li.
Her plasma rifle was slung across her back, but the knife at her belt was within easy reach. She dropped onto the roof beside him with the grace of a seasoned hunter.
"Jiang said you'd be up here." She nodded at the chip. "That the Luo's so-called 'gift'?"
Yuchen didn't answer.
Li smirked. "Relax, kid. If I wanted to steal it, you'd be missing a hand right now."
Xing bared his teeth in a silent snarl.
Li ignored him. "We need to talk about what happened in the Ironfang tunnels."
Yuchen's fingers stilled. The Ghosts. The assassination. The way his body had moved without thought.
"You fought like a Luo," Li said bluntly. "That wasn't just training. That was blood memory."
The words hung between them like a drawn blade.
Yuchen met her gaze. "Why does it matter?"
"Because Harbin's a powder keg," Li said, her voice low. "The organizations are circling. The sabotage, the mech crashes, the missing refugees—it's all connected. And now the Luo are sniffing around you."
A cold wind cut through the night. Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed.
Li stood, brushing dust off her pants. "Jiang thinks you're ready. I think you're a walking disaster." She tossed something at him—a small holoprojector. "Decide for yourself."
The device flickered to life, displaying a security feed from the Inner Zone.
Yuchen's blood turned to ice.
The footage showed Luo Jinhai—his grandfather—standing before the Harbin Council, his voice ringing with authority.
"The Wei-Xing Organization's aggression will not be tolerated. If they want war, the Luo will bury them in steel."
The date stamp read yesterday.
Li's smile was razor-thin. "Welcome to the game, kid."
Jiang's workshop at midnight was a cathedral of shadows and half-dismantled machinery.
Yuchen jacked the Luo chip into Jiang's terminal, its encrypted files spilling across the holographic display. Xing watched from his perch on a gutted mech core, his eyes reflecting the scrolling data like twin golden moons.
"Took you long enough," Jiang grunted from behind a welding mask. Sparks flew as he fused a fractured hydraulic line. "Was starting to think you'd lost your nerve."
Yuchen ignored the jab. "The chip's encrypted. Needs a biometric key."
Jiang lifted the mask, his cybernetic eye whirring. "And?"
Yuchen pressed his thumb against the scanner.
The terminal shrieked.
Warning glyphs flashed crimson as the system locked down. Jiang was across the room in seconds, wrench in hand. "What the hell did you—"
Then the screen went black.
And a new message appeared:
"Blood recognizes blood."
The encryption dissolved.
Files unfolded like steel petals—training modules, tactical databases, even schematics for mechs Yuchen had only heard rumors about.
But one file pulsed ominously at the center of it all.
Jiang sucked in a breath. "That's a Luo Family combat log."
Yuchen opened it.
The hologram resolved into a battlefield—ruined cityscape, smoke-choked sky. And at its center, a single mech moving with impossible grace.
The Xuanwu-class.
Yuchen's throat tightened. His father had piloted one of these.
The footage showed the mech carving through a swarm of B-Rank beasts like they were paper. Every motion was fluid, precise—martial arts translated into mechanical perfection.
Then the feed cut to a new location: a research facility, its walls streaked with blood.
A scientist's panicked voice crackled through the speakers:
"The Xuanwu prototype isn't just a mech! It's a key! If the Wei-Xing get their hands on—"
Gunfire. Screams.
The last image before the feed died was a symbol burned into a corpse's chest.
The Wei-Xing serpent.
Jiang swore. "This wasn't just sabotage. It was a heist."
Xing growled, his fur standing on end.
Yuchen's hands curled into fists. The attack on Border City-17. His parents' deaths. The war brewing in Harbin.
It was all connected.
The Scrap Cathedral at dawn was a graveyard of stolen tech and whispered secrets.
Yuchen moved through the black market's stalls with Xing tucked into his hood, the pup's silver markings dimmed to avoid attention. They'd left Jiang behind—the old man was too recognizable.
Their target sat at a corner stall, his face hidden beneath a tattered hood. The vendor's sign read:
"Information—For the Right Price."
Yuchen slid into the seat opposite him and placed a Wei-Xing credit chit on the table.
The informant didn't look up. "Not enough."
Yuchen added two more.
A pause. Then—
"What do you want to know?"
"Who really controls Ironfang now," Yuchen said quietly.
The informant's hands stilled. When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. "The syndicate's just a front. Wei-Xing's been pulling their strings for months." He leaned closer. "They're looking for something. Something buried under Old Shanghai's ruins."
Xing's claws pricked Yuchen's shoulder.
The informant continued: "Rumor says the Luo hid a weapon there. Something that could end the war before it starts."
Yuchen's pulse thundered in his ears. The Xuanwu's key.
He pushed another chit across the table. "Where do I find Ironfang's new boss?"
The informant pocketed the credits. "Sector 9. Sublevel 3. But kid?" His smile was all teeth. "They eat runners like you alive."
The entrance to Sublevel 3 was a rusted maintenance hatch, its hinges screaming protest as Yuchen forced it open.
The air below stank of blood and burnt wiring.
Xing dropped silently to the ground, his markings flaring silver as he scouted ahead. The pup had grown bolder in their months together—his mutations sharper, his instincts unnervingly precise.
The tunnel opened into a cavernous chamber lit by flickering holoscreens.
At its center sat a throne of salvaged mech parts.
And on that throne—
"Took you long enough," said the Ironfang boss.
Yuchen froze.
It was Wraith.
The code-slicer from the tunnels. The boy who should be dead.
Wraith grinned, tapping the cybernetic plating now grafted over his chest. "Guess you don't hit as hard as you think."
Xing's growl vibrated through Yuchen's boots.
Wraith waved a hand. Holoscreens flared to life, showing **security feeds from across Harbin—Luo patrols, Sutherland mechs, even the workshop's back alley.**
"I know who you are," Wraith said. "And I know what you're after."
Yuchen's hand drifted toward his plasma pistol. One shot left.
Wraith laughed. "Still playing the hero? Look around."
The shadows moved.
A dozen Ironfang enforcers stepped into the light, their weapons humming.
Wraith leaned forward, his eyes gleaming. "Here's what's going to happen. You're going to deliver a message to your grandfather. Tell him **Wei-Xing sends their regards.**"
The screens changed.
A live feed of the Luo Fortress in Beijing.
And beneath its towering walls—
A single Xuanwu-class mech, lying in ruins.
Wraith's smile was a knife.
"The war starts now."
The holographic image of the ruined Xuanwu-class mech flickered in the dank underground chamber, casting jagged shadows across Wraith's scarred face. The Ironfang boss leaned back in his makeshift throne, fingers steepled, watching Yuchen with the predatory patience of a spider.
"Surprised?" Wraith smirked. "The great Luo Family isn't as untouchable as they pretend."
Yuchen's fingers twitched toward the plasma pistol at his belt. One shot. He could drop Wraith before the enforcers reacted. But the moment he moved, Xing would be on him—and the pup wasn't fast enough to dodge a dozen rifles.
"You're lying," Yuchen said, voice flat. "No one takes down a Xuanwu without an army."
Wraith barked a laugh. "Who said anything about an army?" He flicked a finger, and the hologram zoomed in on the wreckage. "Look closer."
Yuchen did.
The mech's cockpit wasn't shattered by artillery or claw marks.
It had been pried open from the inside.
Xing let out a low, warning growl.
"That's right," Wraith purred. "The pilot did this themselves. Went berserk mid-mission. Ripped their own mech apart." His grin widened. "Funny what happens when you mess with neural links, isn't it?"
Yuchen's blood ran cold. Neural sabotage. The same trick Wei-Xing had used on the Sutherland mechs.
This wasn't just a message.
It was a demonstration.
Wraith stood, his cybernetic joints whirring. "Here's how this ends. You walk out of here. You tell Luo Jinhai what you saw. And in return?" He spread his hands. "Maybe Wei-Xing lets you live long enough to watch the fireworks."
Yuchen didn't move. "Or?"
"Or my boys ventilate you now and dump your corpse in the harbor." Wraith shrugged. "Honestly? I'm good either way."
The enforcers tightened their circle, plasma rifles humming to full charge.
Xing's silver markings pulsed—a silent warning.
Yuchen exhaled.
Then moved.
His last plasma bolt took the nearest enforcer between the eyes.
Chaos erupted.
Xing blurred, a silver streak in the dim light. His jaws clamped on a gunman's wrist, bones crunching. The man screamed, dropping his rifle—
Yuchen caught it midair, spun, and fired.
Two enforcers dropped.
Wraith bellowed, "KILL THEM!"
Yuchen ducked as gunfire chewed the wall behind him. He grabbed Xing by the scruff and dove behind a stack of crates just as a grenade detonated where they'd stood.
Shrapnel peppered the metal shielding.
No way out. No backup.
Xing snarled, his fur standing on end.
Yuchen racked the stolen rifle's charging handle. One round left.
Then—
The lights died.
Every hologram, every glowstrip, every weapon's targeting laser winked out.
Total darkness.
A voice echoed through the black*distorted, mechanical.
"Run, little heir."*
Yuchen didn't hesitate.
He ran.
The tunnels beneath Sector 9 were a maze of rusted pipes and dead ends. Yuchen sprinted blindly, Xing's claws digging into his shoulder as the pup clung on. Behind them, Ironfang enforcers shouted, their flash beams cutting through the dark like jagged knives.
"Who the hell was that?" Yuchen hissed between breaths.
Xing yipped—no idea.
A grating screeched open ahead. A pale hand beckoned.
Yuchen lunged through, and the grate slammed shut behind them.
They crouched in a maintenance shaft, breathing hard. The faint glow of a portable holopad illuminated their savior's face—
Vera Sutherland.
Her usual smirk was gone. "You've got a death wish, kid."
Yuchen's rifle came up on instinct. "You're working with them."
"Please." Vera rolled her eyes. "If I wanted you dead, I'd have let Wraith's boys do it." She tapped her holopad. "I've been tracking Wei-Xing's movements for weeks. Their little 'alliance' with Ironfang? It's a front. They're after something bigger."
The pad displayed a map—Old Shanghai's ruins, pulsing red.
"The Xuanwu's key," Yuchen said.
Vera's eyebrows shot up. "So you do know." She leaned closer. "Wei-Xing thinks it's a weapon. But it's not."
Xing whined, ears flattening.
Yuchen's grip tightened on the rifle. "Then what is it?"
Vera's lips curled. "A door. And whatever's on the other side? It's why the Luo buried it in the first place."
Jiang's workshop was in lockdown when Yuchen returned.
The old man stood over a gutted mech core, welding torch in hand. He didn't look up as Yuchen entered.
"You're an idiot."
Xing hopped down, slinking to his nest of wiring.
Yuchen set the stolen rifle on the workbench. "Wei-Xing's making their move. They already took out a Xuanwu."
Jiang's torch shut off with a hiss. "I know." He tossed Yuchen a holodisk. "Li just commed in. Luo forces are mobilizing. They've got a battalion prepping to march on Wei-Xing's border outposts."
The disk displayed troop movements—hundreds of mechs, thousands of soldiers.
War.
Yuchen's throat tightened. "We have to stop this."
Jiang snorted. " We? Kid, you're eight. This isn't your fight."
"It is now." Yuchen pulled the Luo chip from his pocket. "They gave me this for a reason."
Jiang's cybernetic eye whirred. "Yeah. To bait you." He grabbed Yuchen's shoulder. "Listen to me. The Luo don't care about you. If they did, they'd have come for you a year ago."
Xing growled, but it lacked conviction.
Yuchen shook his head. "This isn't about them. It's about Harbin. If war breaks out, the city burns. We burn."
Silence.
Then Jiang exhaled, long and slow. "Damn stubborn kid." He stomped to a locked cabinet, wrenched it open, and tossed Yuchen a set of keys. "You're gonna need a mech."
The storage hangar beneath the workshop hadn't been opened in years. Dust choked the air as Yuchen stepped inside, Xing sneezing at his heels.
And there, beneath a tarp thick with grime, it waited.
Jiang yanked the cover off.
A mech.
Not some scrap-built junker—a real, Luo-designed Light-Frame. Sleek, avian, its armor painted a faded crimson.
Yuchen's breath caught. "Is that—?"
"An Ember Sparrow. Gen-3 Neural-Link. Retired five years ago." Jiang patted its leg. "Belonged to a friend."
The cockpit hatch hissed open.
Yuchen climbed in.
The neural headset hummed as it synced with his brainwaves.
And for the first time in years—
He remembered.
His father's voice: "A Luo doesn't pilot the machine. He becomes it."
The mech's optics flared to life.
Jiang's voice crackled over the comm. "We move at dawn."
The sky over Harbin bled crimson as the sun clawed its way above the horizon. Yuchen sat strapped into the Ember Sparrow's cockpit, the neural interface humming against his temples. The mech's systems booted in sequence—hydraulics pressurized, plasma conduits flared, targeting arrays flickered to life.
Xing crouched in the secondary harness, his silver-marked fur bristling with static from the mech's energy field. His golden eyes reflected the holographic HUD as it painted the battlefield in glowing tactical glyphs.
Jiang's voice crackled through the comms: "Wei-Xing forces just breached the outer districts. They're heading straight for the vault."
A city map unfolded across Yuchen's display. Red markers pulsed like open wounds—Wei-Xing Light-Frames, six of them, carving through the industrial sector.
"They're not here for war," Yuchen realized. "They're here to steal."
Jiang's grunt was all the confirmation he needed.
The Ember Sparrow's thrusters ignited.
Time to move.
The battle reached them before they reached it.
A block away, a Wei-Xing Viper-class Light-Frame drove its plasma claws through a Harbin defense turret. The explosion sent a shockwave rattling through the Ember Sparrow's chassis.
Yuchen didn't hesitate.
He moved.
The Sparrow lunged forward, its reinforced forearm slamming into the Viper's spine before it could turn. The enemy mech buckled, armor crumpling under the impact.
Xing yipped as the Sparrow's combat AI fed targeting data directly into Yuchen's neural link. Left arm—exposed hydraulics.
Yuchen struck.
The Sparrow's wrist-blade pierced the Viper's elbow joint, severing the limb in a shower of sparks. The pilot screamed over an open channel as his mech collapsed.
One down.
Five to go.
The remaining Wei-Xing mechs turned in unison, their optics locking onto the Sparrow.
"Hostiles acquired," the Sparrow's AI intoned.
Yuchen bared his teeth.
"Good."
The fight raged through the streets, steel titans clashing amid the ruins of Harbin's industrial sector.
Yuchen wove between enemy fire, the Sparrow's agility the only thing keeping him alive. A Wei-Xing sniper-frame perched atop a shattered warehouse lined up a shot—
Xing growled, his markings flaring.
Yuchen twisted, the high-caliber round screaming past the cockpit.
Return fire.
The Sparrow's shoulder-mounted plasma cannon roared, turning the sniper's nest into molten slag.
Two down.
Jiang's voice cut through the chaos: "The vault's under lockdown, but they've got a code-slicer working on it. You've got minutes."
Yuchen didn't waste breath answering.
The Sparrow sprinted, its thrusters burning white-hot as it closed the distance to the vault—a reinforced bunker beneath the old Harbin Research Institute.
A Wei-Xing Heavy-Frame barred the entrance, its massive rotary cannons spinning up.
"Halt," its pilot demanded, voice distorted through the external speakers.
Yuchen didn't.
He dove, the Sparrow sliding beneath the Heavy-Frame's firing arc. Its wrist-blade scythed upward, carving through the enemy mech's knee joint.
The Heavy-Frame toppled, its cannons firing wildly into the sky as it crashed.
Three down.
The vault door stood before them, its surface scarred by cutting torches.
Too late.
It hissed open.
Inside, the vault was a tomb of dead servers and shattered glass.
At its center, a single terminal flickered, its holographic display showing a fragmented data stream—incomplete code, flickering like a dying heartbeat.
The AI blueprint.
A Wei-Xing operative stood over it, his fingers flying across the controls as he siphoned the data. He turned as the Sparrow entered, his face pale under the dim emergency lights.
"You're too late," he spat. "The transfer's already—"
Yuchen didn't let him finish.
The Sparrow's blade ended him.
The terminal screamed warnings as Yuchen ripped the data drive free.
"Corruption detected. Transfer incomplete."
Xing whined, his ears flattening.
Jiang's voice was grim: "They got part of it."
Yuchen stared at the shattered vault, the dead operative, the flickering code.
"Not enough."
Outside, the remaining Wei-Xing mechs converged.
The Sparrow's systems flashed red.
"Incoming hostiles."
Yuchen tightened his grip on the controls.
"Then we finish this."
The Ember Sparrow stood its ground as the Wei-Xing mechs attacked.
A Talon-class struck first, its plasma claws screeching against the Sparrow's chest plating. Yuchen countered, driving his blade through its cockpit.
Four down.
A Stinger-frame's missile barrage slammed into the Sparrow's back, sending warning klaxons shrieking.
"Left thruster offline," the AI reported.
Yuchen spun, the Sparrow's remaining cannon erupting, tearing the Stinger in half.
Five down.
The last mech—a Wei-Xing commander's custom unit—hesitated.
"You fight like a Luo," its pilot sneered.
Yuchen didn't answer.
He attacked.
Blades clashed, steel screaming as the two mechs dueled amid the ruins. The Sparrow was faster, but damaged. The Wei-Xing mech was heavier, stronger.
A backhanded strike sent the Sparrow staggering.
Xing snarled, his markings blazing silver.
Yuchen moved.
The Sparrow's blade found its mark, piercing the enemy mech's core.
The Wei-Xing commander died cursing.
Silence fell.
Smoke curled from the Sparrow's ruined chassis as Yuchen climbed free, Xing leaping down beside him. The vault's terminal still flickered, its corrupted data spiraling into nothingness.
Jiang arrived minutes later, his face grim.
"Harbin's safe. For now."
Yuchen held up the partial data drive. "They didn't get all of it."
Jiang took it, examining the fragmented code. "Enough to be dangerous. Not enough to be useful." He met Yuchen's gaze. "They'll come back."
Xing pressed against Yuchen's leg, a silent question in his golden eyes.
Yuchen exhaled.
"Let them."