The Shadow Curtain International Huaxia Branch base, nicknamed Huaxia Tower, almost got carved through by Mechbreaker alone. The news raced like wildfire, burning across Huaxia and the globe.

Cut off and caged, Yekase had her phone confiscated. A camera stared all day and night, a hawk’s cold eye. She couldn’t touch the teleport chest—an ace even Gu Xiangshi didn’t know.

Thirty thousand meters over Twin Towers City, clouds like stacked mountains, Jiang Bailu, Ling Yi, and Lu Yao held a tight war council in the Ambition Divine Ship’s small room, plotting a raid like a blade drawn.

Liu RuoYuan sat in, offering counsel. The crisis pressed like a storm front. The three fighters had no room for more and reminded her she couldn’t join the actual run.

"I’m worried about her state." Jiang Bailu’s voice carried frost. "The Huaxia Branch has its own prison. She might be under torture."

"That part’s not scary," Ling Yi said, a dry grin like flint. "She’s got an evolutionary physique. Adaptive armor. The more you hit, the thicker the hide."

"Oh. True."

Liu RuoYuan pulled up video of Fang Tang under punishment. She bit her lower lip and ran it at 0.5x, replaying a single moment until a window flashed like a fish scale. She began to hunt the execution chamber’s real location.

Lu Yao worked this trick often. They hadn’t spoken much before, yet they leaned over the same screen, heads and shoulders bumping like sparrows on a wire, no awkwardness. They glanced up, now and then, to match their search ranges.

Days ago, Jiang Bailu used her member’s badge to visit Valhalla. The bar buried in old alleys had lost its owner and bartender. The door was sealed like a tomb.

Because Wang Zhewei gave up escaping and smashed the teleporter, Valhalla’s site stayed hidden. Inside, gear and data sat intact, relics under ash.

Ling Yi felt a wash of relief; eighteen and grown, she’d gone to Valhalla many times, yet never ordered a proper cocktail. Then she remembered both bartenders were dead and froze, like a deer caught in lamplight.

…Right, let the Doctor self‑study…

Oh. The Doctor was captured too.

An adult’s collapse comes in a heartbeat. Ling Yi slipped off her slippers, crouched on the chair like a curled hedgehog, and shut down.

Liu RuoYuan dragged street view across the tablet, eyes hooked to the map. "It’s six now. Ling Yi, check the teleport chest. See if she dropped anything in."

"…Oh. Got it!"

Not the hour to mope. Ling Yi slapped her cheeks, hopped off, and pat‑pat padded to the basement.

Moments later, she pat‑pat ran back, voice flustered. "The chest’s broken! It’s full of water. It’s flooding on the floor!"

"Ah?!"

Right at the hinge when we need inside‑out coordination?!

Liu RuoYuan clicked her tongue, stuffed the tablet into Jiang Bailu’s hands, and pat‑pat chased after Ling Yi.

Jiang Bailu glanced at the tablet, then at Lu Yao.

"What are you staring for? Keep looking," Lu Yao said.

"Right. Right."

They kept a sliver of distance, necks craned until sore, like two swans sharing one mirror.

In the basement, Liu RuoYuan saw a small sea. She yelped, grabbed the chest, and poured water out the hatch, again and again, until it drained.

But inside, water kept welling up, a spring in a box.

What happened on Yekase’s end?

Water torture? Did Shadow Curtain bust her teleport band? Or did she drop the band into a sewer, to hide like a carp?

"…No. Wait."

Yekase had told her one rule for the chest.

Materials and time were tight. No new build. After Europe, Yekase planned to leave the current chest to Liu for daily use. She taught her the basics, storing and retrieving, like passing on a house’s keys.

She remembered: storing requires the locator’s owner nearby, holding the chain in mind. If you don’t hold it, anything dumps in, and the box turns to chaos, a river swallowing a market.

So this water was deliberate.

She’s… sending a message?

With water? How? It just overflowed—

Drip, drip… drip.

"Dripping… sound?"

Drip… drip… drip.

Three drops made a phrase. In the first, one and two came close; two to three took long. In the second, every gap stretched long.

A 2×3 bar, looping like a heartbeat.

"Could it be—"

…Morse code?

Locked in Shadow Curtain’s secret cell, Yekase controlled the teleport window’s length and used the faucet to tap Morse, rain on tin.

Liu RuoYuan drew in a breath like cold smoke. Only she would pull off a trick like this.

That full chest was her shout—calling Liu to run and hear the beat.

One short, two long—W.

Three long—O.

W and O together. "wo."

She repeated "wo", I. She wasn’t sure when Liu would spot the flood, or when she’d read the pattern.

Liu slipped a blank sheet into the chest.

…

The dripping stopped. Yekase felt the paper and took it. Seconds later, it reappeared, folded into a check mark.

"...Pfft."

Classic you.

Ling Yi didn’t get the laugh. Liu explained. Ling’s eyes lit. She pulled up a Morse chart and braced, a soldier at dawn.

Next letters: K and E.

Then Y and I.

Finally P, A, and O.

"wo ke yi pao"—"I can run."

"…"

After all that trouble, the big message from the cell was "I can run"!

What are you doing?!

If you can run, why don’t you?!

Liu and Ling traded a look, then ran upstairs to brief the two buried in maps. Four pairs of eyes locked, storming into a new debate.

Does "I can run" mean she’s truly that capable, ready to stage Yekase’s redemption under Shadow Curtain’s nose, so we shouldn’t ruin it? Or is it straight self‑sacrifice?

Both readings feel tenable. The outcomes clash, fire and frost.

Ling Yi and Jiang Bailu trusted her flair and backed the first. Lu Yao and Liu RuoYuan, more grounded, feared the second.

Lu Yao had already grasped Yekase’s plan to debut through the execution livestream. But she had no idea how the escape might work. This string nailed it. She wants a truck‑bomb.

"Right now, I am my answer to that question."

"For the rest of my life, I’ll live for it."

The vow from that underground arena rang in Lu Yao’s skull like a dusk bell. Yekase’s confident smile and steady gaze stood before her.

Because of that line, Lu Yao sat here today.

Yekase conned and dragged her through fires afterward, yet Lu Yao never regretted the alliance.

She had no doubt—Yekase would throw herself on the pyre and light a lamp for Huaxia.

She has the idea. She has the skill. She’s about to act.

Maybe memory gilded the edges. Trust had sprouted in Lu Yao, bamboo after rain.

…No. Not the hour to drift.

"If so, we go two‑track. We lie in wait near the execution ground. If she’s got a backhand, we bail."

"Can we slip past Shadow Curtain’s eyes?" Liu asked.

Jiang Bailu shook her head. "Hard. The security for Fang Tang already overflowed like a tide. For the Doctor, they’ll ring steel tighter."

"…If— I mean if," Ling Yi spoke softly, like holding a bird, "when the execution starts, a dragon hits the ground. Could we use the chaos to grab the Doctor?"

"Uh?" "A dragon?" "The Doctor knows Siberia’s flocks, but the execution’s in days. Where do we conjure a dragon?"

Ling Yi raised her right hand, sheepish.

"…"

"…"

"Uh…?"

"I can turn into a dragon," Ling Yi said.

"Huh?"

"Ten‑meter class. Should be enough."

"Not a size problem—"

"Then what? I’m there to stir the pot. I’ll dodge direct fights."

Aren’t you from the Kamen Rider line? How can you turn into a dragon too? And you never mentioned it!

The other three fell into varying degrees of chaos.

"And I can merge with Luciferin."

"A super robot?!"

"I’ll try merging first, then turning into a dragon."

"Gae Bolg‑Dragon?!" "It’s Dyna Leon, right."

Fine. Pulling out new plugins at the brink is pure Yekase style. Liu suspected Ling Yi learned all her bad habits from her. Jiang Bailu got hyped, tallying if their power could nab the Doctor face‑to‑face.

Lu Yao seemed very into "merge‑transform mech", but kept her image. She pushed, as if casual, for Ling to hit the hangar and test. Heroes come in many architectures; some folks are meant for the sentai route.

Ling Yi was a doer. She ran to Luciferin’s fore and lifted the key, dawning the Blade Armor like quicksilver.

She repeated the stroke from the Emerald Pool’s undercity. She melted the armor, letting it cling like liquid skin. It made a layer to sense and carry Flash Energy. This midform had no direct combat power. Call it the "sensing state"—the real name waits for the Doctor’s return.

Luciferin resonated with the sensing‑state Blade Armor. Its eye monitors flashed red, and it booted itself, a beast waking.

The whole chest‑abdomen space whirred. The back rotated to the front, opening a hidden second cockpit—Professor F’s embedded mental cradle for Ling Yi.

This mech was built by Professor F and the Doctor together.

One is gone. Ling is about to drive it to save the other. She doesn’t know if the Doctor needs saving. If there’s a sliver of yes, she’ll burn for it.

Mind Energy and Flash Energy surged in Ling Yi, skimming the armor’s skin like lightning. They carried her will to every bolt and circuit, turning the mech into her extended body.

"Luciferin—Eden Zero, launch!"

"Don’t launch! Where’s your dragon form?!" Jiang Bailu yelled across the hangar.