Story Reader / Main Story / 28 Polaris Bond / Story
Mr. Wang! All units at low temperature!
A dusty worker, covered in black and gray soot, pokes his head out from the messy factory floor and shouts loudly.
Okay!
A middle-aged man dressed like an engineer shouts back. He, too, is covered in black and gray soot, just like the workers.
Xianqi is focusing intently on the numbers on the console, pushing down the lever carefully, little by little.
Hey... Wang! Hurry up, hurry up!
Don't rush!
Stop the reactor! This is a direct order from above!
Now?
If those things really come here, we'll all die if we don't stop the reactor!
Tritium growth halted!
Good!
Remove the cladding!
Good!
Reactor No. 2 output stopped!
Good!
Xianqi doesn't even look at Mr. Gao. He continues to operate the control panel methodically.
Wang—
Somebody! Throw this douchebag into the transport truck!
How dare you!
I'm trying to make sure all your precious equipment gets onto the ship! Now shut up! Somebody, come here!
Two burly workers immediately walk away from the roaring machines and hoist Mr. Gao out without a word. With it, Mr. Gao's tidy suit, already covered in coal dust and oil, gets even dirtier.
You can't do this! You can't! I paid for this! You—
Mr. Gao's curses grow fainter and Xianqi's ears are once again filled with only the clean hum of machinery.
Mr. Wang, all the equipment from Factory No. 3 is dismantled!
Good! What about Factory No. 2?
Still working on it!
Load the dismantled parts onto the trucks and send them directly to the North Port.
What about this cold reactor?
We'll deal with it last. If we have time, we'll take it with us.
One truck won't be enough.
Then use a ship. There should be cargo boats available in the factory.
If we can't take it... we'll have to destroy it.
We'll at least take the fuel rods—
Bang!
A dull, clear explosion sounds from afar and drowns out the hum of machines in the factory.
They're buying us time. Hurry up.
Dad... Old Wang.
Take a team to Factory No. 2 and make sure they dismantle and transport the equipment as fast as possible.
What about you?
The North Port still needs power. I'll keep up the fuel power supply here when I'm not taking apart the cold reactor.
Master Si doesn't say anymore. He has never been a man of many words.
Master Si grabs the shoulder of the chief engineer of the Nighter, who is a head taller. Despite his oily and dusty hands, his trembling grip doesn't leave even a black handprint on the engineer's shoulder.
They have only a few seconds to take a last look at each other, and that's it.
Got it.
Take care of yourself.
I will.
Without another word, Master Si puts down his tools and leaves.
Mr. Wang! The phone is working! Communications are up!
Mr. Wang! The fuel is full!
Phone! The phone!
But the world does not leave any time for this man in his forties to savor the emotions—
Prepare to switch to the firepower supply unit! Follow my order to close the circuit and contact the North Port Load Center for synchronization!
Pass me the phone. I'll report to the headquarters.
He doesn't even have time to look at his father's back as his father leaves.
Two hours later, when the light that shattered the Kowloong night illuminates the world, his name and the names of many other workers like him will be etched into the roaring steel.
The blue planet beyond the large porthole continues to rotate slowly and silently. Being here, anyone can easily find peace looking at what lies ahead of them.
Inner peace is also the wish of the busy communicators and directors on the bridge right now...
Hello, hello? Can you hear me?
KJ0511A, can you hear me? Please respond if you copy.
What's going on? Have you confirmed the source of the signal?
Calling KJ0511A... That's the Nighter's code!
This is an unencrypted broadcast. The header did not check for errors, but the message has been relayed over a large area!
Sir!
A communicator copying data at a desk raises his hand.
Send it over.
The director is standing at the center of the bridge when he receives a short message on his terminal.
The message is plain and simple...
Kowloong needs help!
I need you to find out what happened right now.
I've already requested long-range signal surveillance from Gestalt!
We're picking up an increase in the signal wavelength of the Punishing in the Kowloong area!
What!
258% and rising!
Keep reaching out to the transmission station. Don't stop.
274% and rising!
Call the commander and president now for intervention.
307%!
The crimson streak on the large screen of the bridge pierces through the blue planet, spilling blood that does not belong to her.
The history of war is a history of numbers. It is a history of data.
When history brushes against the beaches of Peloponnesus, the papyrus will not leave a space for the births and deaths of the ordinary soldiers with their round shields and spears.
History will crush their flesh just like how it crushes steel and grind everything together into a sticky ink for future generations.
History never deviates from its course.
Which is why the same will happen when history brushes against the coasts of Kowloong.
