Hongcheng was caught off guard by Tang Coco’s explanation, like a lantern flaring in rain; he’d always believed Tang Ke had switched genders.

“Hahaha—interesting, very interesting.” His smile cracked like dry porcelain.

“I’m far more interested in someone who’s died once,” he purred, voice cold as winter steel. “Don’t forget—your brother’s life sits in my palm, and the ones you love! I might not control you, but if I hold them, I hold you.”

“Sorry—you won’t get that chance, will you, old man?” Tang Coco shook her head, calm as still water before a storm.

“Hmm?” Hongcheng’s face pinched, a shadow crossing like a passing hawk. He turned toward Hong Wei—and froze as those eyes, once dim as ashes, opened and fixed on him.

“You—!” Terror jumped in him like a startled horse. He hadn’t expected Hong Wei to wake. After dragging him into the Shadow Division, he’d tried to hijack Hong Wei’s mind, failed, watched Hong Wei turn his own Anomaly Power inward to self-destruct—only for Hongcheng’s machines to chain him to life like iron sunk in riverbed mud.

“I Field!” Tang Coco called, voice ringing like a bell, and blue energy blossomed around Hong Wei like frost glass. Blue met black, shell to shell, the clash bursting like storm surf; the shockwave drove Hongcheng back step by heavy step.

Her window snapped open like a falcon’s dive. She surged forward in a blur, slid to Hong Wei’s side, and raised another I Field, the blue dome curving over him like a guardian moon.

“Sure enough… you didn’t give up lightly…” Hong Wei forced a breath, eyes moist as dawn mist; the face before him was both strange and heartbreakingly familiar. Tang Coco had already unlatched her mask; the air touched her skin like cool rain.

“I’m sorry. There were things… I couldn’t say before.” Guilt sat in her chest like a stone.

“It’s fine… child. You did right.” Hong Wei’s smile was thin, warm as a coal in snow.

…

Not far off, Hongcheng saw the scene—his temper sparked like tinder—and he charged in a heavy Mech, its servos growling like chained dogs. A white figure slid between him and his prey, light on her feet like drifting snow.

“Haven’t had a good brawl in ages~” Marilyn flexed, joints humming like stringed bows, then met the heavy Mech up close, metal on metal, like antlers clashing in frost.

Across the field, Hawkeye had just jolted awake and tangled with Riot again, blades flashing like fish under waves.

“Damn it! Everyone—open fire!” Snarling, humiliated as a cornered wolf, Hongcheng barked. Mass-production Mechs around the perimeter lifted their rifles, muzzles dark as crows, and opened up on the blue shell around Tang Coco.

Boom, boom, boom, boom! The gunline lit like a row of fireworks, but no shell pierced her field; the rounds flattened like hail on temple eaves.

“Have you found your mother?” Hong Wei asked, gaze steady as an old pine.

“Mm.” Tang Coco nodded, small and firm as a seed.

“Good. Stay with her—always… She’s… never stopped worrying.” His words fell soft as falling ash.

“I know.”

“You don’t blame me… for keeping this from you?” His eyes held years, layered like tree rings.

“You had your reasons, didn’t you?”

“This device—I built it.” His voice trembled like old paper. “But when I saw what it made you become, I regretted it. The Shadow Division should never run on rules like these. I buried the device, swore it would never wake. If I die, it dies with me… Pity… he found it.”

Silence pooled between them like a dark pond; Tang Coco’s heart was tangled, reeds in wind.

“Child, I failed you all.” The apology tasted of salt.

“It’s past,” she said, shaking her head, trying to keep her mind clear as winter air.

“Ke—promise me one thing.” His eyes softened, calling her by that old name like a worn talisman.

“Tell me,” she whispered, breath low as a flame.

“When I’m gone, don’t punish the new ones. They… were chosen by my own hand.” Thinking of his Shadow Division, Hong Wei’s gaze warmed, a father’s sea.

“But…” Conflict dug into Tang Coco like thorns. She looked toward Riot, still ripping the air like a rabid beast, and her chest tightened like a fist.

Hong Wei followed her eyes. One look at Riot’s ruinous frenzy, and he understood the fear knotted in her.

“If… they’re no longer themselves, help them find release,” he said, voice steady as a blade laid down. “The Shadow Division will never dance on another’s strings. This base… destroy it.”

The last words took his strength like water leaving a cracked jar; he sagged, pale as chalk.

…

“I understand.” Tang Coco thought for a heartbeat, then nodded, resolve settling like iron.

“Damn it—roar!” Hongcheng erupted, black Anomalous Energy surging around him like boiling tar; Marilyn’s close press had his temper red and raw.

“Ah—!” Hong Wei screamed, pain ripping through him like a saw. A smear of black smoke rose from the device on his head; the glass canisters flushed green, sickly as pond scum.

Boom! Riot toppled mid-fight like a felled tree, out cold.

“Bad.” Tang Coco’s pulse leapt; she hadn’t expected Hongcheng to have that card tucked like a hidden blade.

“Ke! Kill me—he’s jamming my Anomaly Power!” Hong Wei’s eyes shut tight, the plea ragged as torn cloth.

Tang Coco looked at him, torn to ribbons inside, wind and knives in the heart.

“Hurry—Gu Xin and the others will be in danger!” His urgency snapped like a whip.

…

“Hahaha, Asura—I’ll make you lose everyone you care about!” Hongcheng’s laugh gnashed like teeth on bone.

“Don’t forget—you’re Asura.” Hong Wei forced the word through pain, like a spark in rain.

Thock. A black mechanical dagger slid into Hong Wei’s heart, neat and quiet as a midnight stroke. His body eased, the fight leaving like tide draining to silence.

“Child—don’t carry guilt.” He met Tang Coco with a gentle gaze, calm as a lake at dusk. “I owe you all. Only like this… can I be at peace.”

Her lenses chilled, eyes cold as glacier glass.

“Protect them…” he breathed, faith lingering like incense hush—then the sound faded. Nearby, machine fluid leaked in thin streams, green and slick as eelbacks.

“Damn you! You think it ends here?” Hongcheng’s shout cracked across the ruins like thunder. Riot’s Mech twitched, then stood—rigid as a puppet pulled upright by strings. He lifted his head; where his eyes had been, black flooded in, blank as a pit—just like Wildcat back then.

“Dark Anomalous Energy detected. System entering full combat state.” The voice rang in Tang Coco’s mind, cold as a bell in frost.

“…What’s their energy tier?” she asked, jaw locked like a vice.

“Above S-class. If you fight, resolution will take at least twenty minutes.”

Tang Coco cut a glance at Hongcheng; beneath the grime, his lips twitched with a fox’s smile.

“Wrong—don’t engage her. He’s stalling.” The realization fell like a stone through water.

“Marilyn! Hawkeye! We’re pulling out—Gu Xin and the others are in danger!” Command snapped in her tone, sharp as flint.

“Yes, Captain! But Riot—” Hawkeye’s eyes stayed on his comrade, grief heavy as wet cloth.

“We can’t save him now. We leave.” Tang Coco’s voice was iron.

“Understood.” The three shot skyward, their trails like comets.

“Leaving? That easy?” Hongcheng’s back-mounted mechanical claw launched, a predator streak through air.

“Get lost.” Tang Coco’s snarl cut clean, and blue energy edged her shin like a crescent blade. She swept her leg; the claw snapped with a crisp crack, metal scattering like black leaves. Hongcheng’s and Riot’s Armor were heavy-grade, grounded as stone—no flight, no chase, not once she broke the sky.

“Marilyn… level the island.” Her voice was the winter line of a horizon.

“On it.” Marilyn raised the giant cannon linked to her right forearm; blue particles gathered at the muzzle like fireflies in a jar—then a thick beam dropped like judgment onto the base.

KABOOM! Blue fire swallowed the whole installation, a storm-bloom devouring steel; shockwaves rolled out like quake-waves, smashing everything on the island flat.

“Max speed to Ninghai.” Tang Coco’s order was clipped, cold as a blade.

Whoosh— The three streaked toward Ninghai, their contrails thin as brushstrokes across cloud.

The Shadow Division base was now a field of ruin, flames licking like hungry wolves. Through the smoke rising like dark tides, Hongcheng pushed himself upright. His Armor hung in jagged pieces, his body marked with cuts like claw traces; he stood and looked around with a face wiped clean of feeling.

“If you’re not dead, stop playing dead.” His voice was gravel. In the rubble, Riot stumbled up, movements awkward as a sleepwalker.

“Objective achieved,” Hongcheng said to those black eyes, cool as slate. “Asura lives… and she’s tied to them.”

“This dump needed rebuilding anyway.” He stared at the shredded base, tone flat as a closed door, then pulled a phone and dialed, a number like a wick lit.

———————

An hour earlier.

At Ye Yiyi’s villa in Ninghai City, Gu Xin and Meng Yuting had just arrived, the afternoon light spilling over the living room like honey.

On the sofa, Ye Yiyi sat with Meng Xiaoxiao, cartoons flickering like fish scales. Seeing her sister, Meng Xiaoxiao ducked away, shadowed as a shy fawn; who knew if she’d forgiven Meng Yuting. Gu Xin and Meng Yuting stood at the window, watching the street, silence taut as a bowstring.

“Xin’er…” Meng Yuting’s voice brushed the air, soft as silk.

Gu Xin’s brow tightened, storm gathering like a bank of clouds. Meng Yuting glanced outside, caught the signal, and nodded, agreement settling like a stone.

Gu Xin turned toward the sofa, footsteps steady as a drum. “Yiyi, I need to tell you something.”

Ye Yiyi rose, worry fluttering like a sparrow. “What is it?”

Gu Xin leaned to whisper—words short as pins—and Ye Yiyi’s face cooled, serious as frost.

“Really? But you two—” Concern tugged at her, eyes damp as new leaves.

“Don’t worry. We’ll be fine,” Gu Xin smiled, warm as a lamp. “Please take care of Xiaoxiao.”

“Okay.” Ye Yiyi nodded, knowing some storms she couldn’t stand against, like a wall of rain.

“Xiaoxiao, let’s go play games in the bedroom~” Ye Yiyi ruffled the girl’s hair, gentle as a breeze.

“Okay, okay~” The word hopped like a sparrow. At the stairs, she turned back, eyes lingering on her sister, like a thread that didn’t want to snap.

Once Ye Yiyi and Meng Xiaoxiao entered the bedroom, Gu Xin and Meng Yuting sealed it with Anomalous Energy, a quiet dome like a snow globe—no matter the racket outside, nothing would shake the calm inside.

“Not here—this is Yiyi’s new home.” Gu Xin’s voice was firm, a pillar.

“Mm. We strike first.” Meng Yuting nodded, resolve rising like a blade drawn.

On the hill behind the villa community, six young men and women stood under the pale sky, figures sharp as reeds.

This Shadow Division team was No. Four, No. Five, No. Seven, No. Eight, No. Nine, and No. Ten—three men, three women. Among them, one thin youth stood about one-seventy, hood up black as a crow’s wing; a chill clung to him like damp willow shade, face hidden.

“No. Ten, do we go in?” asked No. Five, a broad-shouldered man, voice heavy as a hammer.

“No need,” No. Ten said, eyes lifted like a hawk’s. “My teacher won’t fight inside the villas.”

“They’re here…” The words barely left his lips when the sky above the hill bristled with ice spikes, glittering like a field of spears in winter sun.