Ignoring the Support Squad idling at the war vehicle's edge, Nightingale spotted Bai Ya and shot forward at incredible speed. Though it wasn't clear how she launched herself into the air, her straight-line charge far outpaced Bai Ya's unreliable flying. Thus, Nightingale caught up to Bai Ya before she reached the battlefield.

"Lingkong is looking for you."

Bai Ya looked helplessly at the girl blocking her path, then reached out and took the tablet. She'd almost attacked when something flew toward her—luckily, she recognized Nightingale from before. They weren't close, but the memory lingered.

"Bai Ya, how's your condition now?" Lingkong asked directly, no hesitation.

"Barely able to fight," Bai Ya replied, her expression grim. But she knew this wasn't the time for pessimism. If she didn't step up, retreat was the only option. She'd seen Galsis's blast—it was power beyond mortal reach. Bai Ya could match it with all her might, but firing such an attack gave her over a sixty percent death chance, and her Essence would certainly run wild. She'd never do it unless absolutely necessary.

"Only you can do this now," Lingkong said gravely. "If you can't, we'll have to give up."

Lingkong didn't specify what "give up" meant, but Yue Ge, listening nearby, understood naturally. This wasn't just abandoning the mission. If the Organization retreated, most of the city's population would perish with it.

Bai Ya hesitated a moment. "I'll try. It hasn't come to that yet—it's stopped."

After firing the energy blast, Galsis had returned to its prior state: no advance, no further destruction, just standing in place. Though lava might still flood the city, this gave them a chance to regroup—a rare piece of good news.

"Then I'll leave the scene to you. Take command once you arrive," Lingkong said before hanging up.

Bai Ya handed the tablet back to Nightingale. "Coming with me?"

Nightingale shook her head silently and left. She wouldn't join the fight. The Support Squad avoided such battles not just for secrecy—their Essences were mostly unsuited for it. Flashy abilities like Bai Ya's were fundamentally incompatible with their role.

"I'll put you down," Bai Ya told Yue Ge without hesitation.

"Are you going over there?" Yue Ge asked hesitantly. He knew staying with her would be a burden. Not understanding flight yet, he'd distract her.

"I won't risk myself unnecessarily. That blast had wide reach, but it might miss me," Bai Ya said clearly, showing a rare slight smile. "And if I don't do it, no one can."

"Why?" Yue Ge fell silent after asking. He realized he didn't understand Bai Ya at all. She wasn't the type to say such things.

"Let's go." Bai Ya shook her head, no explanation, and slowly descended to a rooftop. She released her grip. "If danger comes, retreat to that building—it's safe. Don't worry about me; I'm fine."

"Understood," Yue Ge nodded, silent. He didn't mention leaving, just watched Galsis standing motionless in the distance. Being with Bai Ya, he saw what she saw and sensed her emotions.

No one stays calm under calamity—not even Bai Ya. When Galsis fired that blast, only Yue Ge, holding her hand, felt it tremble. Her calm facade was just habit. Yet she still smiled, comforting him not to worry. Yue Ge couldn't grasp it. He just wanted a quiet place to sit. He looked normal, but his mind was a mess, acting on autopilot. Without Galsis's appearance, he'd still be in that warehouse, trapped in shadow. Closing his eyes brought only blood.

Bai Ya had almost headed to the front lines, but habit made her glance back at Yue Ge. She halted. He wasn't looking at her or Galsis—his gaze was unfocused, his eyes hollow with deathly emptiness. No normal person had such a stare.

In Bai Ya's memory, Yue Ge was always carefree, smiling through impossibility. He'd crossed death and witnessed it; fear never touched him. Now he stood like a lost soul, a walking corpse. An inexplicable ache hit her chest. She opened her mouth but no words came.

She didn't know what to say, and time was short. Normally, she'd never linger like this. But intuition warned: if she left now, she'd never get another chance. Yue Ge would make a choice and return—but he might not be the same. They'd become strangers again, unable to reclaim their past. This was her own doing.

She had one chance to reach out, to pull him from despair's mire. He might ignore her hand, sinking willingly into hell. But Bai Ya would still try. No grand reason—just a sudden memory. Why had she taken him in initially, instead of driving him off or killing him like others? That time... Yue Ge sitting outside, watching the sun. His expression then was exactly like now.

Bai Ya stopped thinking. She walked back to Yue Ge and waved, as she always did when ordering him around.

"What is it?" Yue Ge snapped out of his daze and approached.

"Crouch down," Bai Ya said, watching him.

Truly... exactly the same.

If only you were still that way.

Puzzled, Yue Ge obeyed. His vision darkened; a soft pressure touched his face, carrying a familiar yet alien scent. He froze, startled.

"It must be painful," Bai Ya whispered, holding him, her voice tender in a way he'd never heard. She didn't know the right path or his troubles. But she knew her duty.

Yue Ge stayed silent, eyes shut, breath held.

"It's okay. I'll stay with you," Bai Ya murmured, gently patting his head.

"Ah..." His arms hung limp. He whimpered like a young beast, crying to vent everything, words lost.