RotA – Chapter 77

The Base had just endured a sudden, major battle. Much of its equipment had sustained varying degrees of damage, and its already small population was now reduced to just over seventy people.

Those who still had strength left, dragging bodies with freshly staunched wounds, numbly cleared away the ubiquitous corpses. Most were from mutated beasts; a small portion were from the companions they had lived with day and night.

Some of the dead could still be identified by their severed limbs, but others had died after completely mutating in the chaos of battle. They lay in pools of blood amidst piles of mutated beast carcasses, and even those closest to them could no longer recognize who they once were.

The former could be buried as humans; the latter could only be cast into the wilderness, left for other mutated beasts to devour.

The living did not want this, but the Fog Zone Base was too small, the surviving population too few, and their remaining strength too limited. They had no other choice.

The mountain of corpses was dealt with one by one, but the blood-soaked bricks and earth could not be scrubbed clean so quickly.

In the infirmary, the medics were also treating the wounded while injured themselves.

The suffering had just passed, but the people, shrouded in grief, could not yet lower their guard.

Her uncle was gone. An Li went out alone to collect samples.

After the great fog, which had existed for as long as she could remember, dissipated, the scenery along the way was so clear it was utterly unfamiliar—so unfamiliar that it made her feel lonely and desolate.

The adults in the Base said this was how the world was originally supposed to be, but she didn’t know. She had never seen it. To her, the world had simply changed, and everything she knew was gone. The dissipation of the fog had taken her family and friends, and it had also taken her limited, mistaken understanding of the world.

This was a good thing, yet her heart felt hollow.

Without the cover of the vast fog, the Base seemed even smaller under the wide-open sky, between the sun and the moon. It was as small as a speck of dust, liable to be blown away without a trace by a gust of wind.

—The world had changed. Where were they, on the verge of losing all their strength, supposed to go?

This was an intangible panic. It enveloped the small base. People would not speak of it, yet every single one of them felt the confusion and uncertainty of the future.

In the afternoon, the hot sun beat down on the base in the jungle.

An Li gently pushed open the door to the research lab. The cool air from the air conditioner filled the room. The old man sat by the window, his eyes closed, basking in the long-absent sun.

The room was utterly silent. The harsh sunlight shone on his nearly withered body, and his pale hair seemed to glint with specks of gold.

An Li stood at the door and called out tentatively, “Sir?”

Shi Wenlin moved slightly, letting out a weary “Mm” in response.

An Li said, “Sir, everyone’s physical examinations are complete. The mutations have stopped.”

Shi Wenlin nodded slowly. “Although I don’t know what happened, the mad era of interspecies infection and mutation is over.”

An Li walked to his side. “Are humans safe?”

Shi Wenlin replied, “For now, yes. Our understanding of this world will likely have to start anew.”

An Li said, “But we don’t have many people left.”

Shi Wenlin said, “Child, one day, the humans from outside will come for you.”

Sir had said that the two newcomers from a while ago had left with the Base’s hope. They would surely bring news of the Base’s existence to the Floating City; they would surely allow humanity to find this small place that seemed to have been forgotten by the entire world.

Sir had also said that humanity must eventually return to the fold, like a hundred rivers flowing into the sea, or fallen leaves returning to their roots.

It was just that those who died before then were like water disappearing into water. In this vast world, it was as if they had never truly been here.

From then on, An Li waited, waited for the humans from outside to find this place of despair.

Day after day after day.

Several of the severely injured passed away one after another. The small Fog Zone Base was ultimately left with sixty-seven people.

On a sunny afternoon, the people, still immersed in their pain, heard the roar of airplanes.

An Li looked up at the distant sky. The sunlight was undoubtedly harsh, but she kept her eyes half-closed, refusing to shut them. As she watched the planes approach, she jumped and shouted, wishing she could pull everyone beside her to wave and cheer for their own kind who had come from the outside.

The moment the planes landed outside the Base, they were finally no longer a people apart.

A familiar face finally appeared again. An Li ran forward, her eyes wide with an inexpressible joy.

She grinned at Chai Yuening, and her stinging eyes instantly filled with tears.

Chai Yuening was back, but there was no sign of Chu Ci by her side.

In the end, An Li didn’t dare to ask. She simply led Chai Yuening to Shi Wenlin.

She escorted the woman to the door and was about to leave when she saw Chai Yuening hand an old notebook to Shi Wenlin, saying that it recorded the reason for the world’s changes.

A moment of curiosity made An Li linger by the door a little longer.

The notebook lay on the table. Shi Wenlin silently flipped through it with a magnifying glass. After an unknown amount of time, he closed it, looked out the window for a long while, and then spoke a single, faint sentence.

“Zhang Hanqing, ah. I still remember her.”

His tone was flat, yet for some reason, it carried a sense of sadness over how much things had changed while the world remained.

An Li did not linger any longer. After all, there were many things to attend to outside.

In the following days, she helped pack things under the direction of the elders. Three days later, everyone would board the planes and leave the Fog Zone Base, which was no longer shrouded in fog.

The planes were headed for the Underground City Base.

She heard that the Floating City had been nearly destroyed in the final battle, and its surviving population had all been transferred to the southern Underground City.

That high-tech city, long suspended in the sky, was, in the end, no more.

Lan Yi was in a daze for a long while when she heard this news, but in the end, she said nothing, simply dragging her luggage onto the plane with everyone else.

This was An Li’s first time flying into the sky, and her last time looking back at the place where she grew up.

Uncle Liu had promised to take her flying. Although Uncle Liu was gone, the uncle flying the plane was also named Liu, fated to carry her far away to rejoin the rest of humanity.

She leaned against the window, watching the small base disappear into the jungle, then the jungle into the mountains, and the mountains into a sea of clouds.

She couldn’t help but ask softly, “The Underground City, is it really buried underground?”

Liu An replied, “Yes. It’s a sturdy fortress. It successfully withstood the final beast tide.”

An Li asked, “Then how many people are left out there?”

Liu An said, “Fewer than a hundred thousand, I suppose.”

An Li exclaimed, “That many!”

Liu An paused. “…Yes, many people survived.”

As the military officer spoke, the gloom in his eyes dissipated slightly.

He had spent a lifetime shouting slogans in the Base, almost numbly. He had experienced the reform of the infection policy, the fall of the outer city, the forced landing of the main city, and finally, the entire base being merged into the Underground City.

All the hopelessness was reflected in his heart, but at this very moment, he saw a light in a little girl’s eyes—pure and full of hope.

He couldn’t help but think that although the dead had become a vast and cold number, many people had still survived.

Researchers from both major bases agreed that the fifty-plus years of ecological chaos were finally over. Humanity was no longer the master of the surface, but they were also no longer driven from it by the creatures of the land.

The surviving humans should be able to return to the surface.

Since they had endured the eternal night, humanity would surely have a bright future.

After all—

Rivers may run dry, but the sea never will.