I won't let you... destroy...
The final Corrupted collapses with a metallic clang. The silver-haired girl standing at the end of the road mutters softly, her body swaying unnaturally as if she might collapse at any moment.
Everyone...
She falls to her knees in agony, her skin cracking and dissolving like a shattered clay figure, with countless blinding golden rays bursting through the fissures.
Then, with a sudden flash, her body disintegrates into myriad motes of light. They drift into the misty air like golden snowflakes.
Ah-hahahahaha! If a phantom alone can accomplish this much, you truly haven't disappointed me—"Golden Oak"!
The Ascendant lets out a theatrical, twisted laugh, spreading his arms toward the massive tree in the distance.
What did you do to her?!
Clang—Nirvatia brings down her massive scythe, but the corpse of a Corrupted suddenly springs up, taking the devastating blow meant for John Doe and shattering into pieces.
This is the fruit of our joint creation—Director Nirvatia.
I don't know who you are, and I couldn't care less about the riddles of a dead man walking.
Lightning flashes as she swings her blade again, cutting through a shower of searing metal fragments to go for John Doe's skull.
Lightning never strikes twice, Director.
The Ascendant repeats his trick, twitching his finger to summon countless blackened corpses that respond to his call. They twist and writhe, climbing over each other in front of John Doe to form an impenetrable wall.
And this is precisely the moment Nirvatia has been waiting for.
Little raven!
—?!
Flanking from the side, you pull the trigger and unleash a hail of bullets that surge like wildfire toward John Doe's body.
The specialized rounds pierce his armor instantly, melting his internal structure. John Doe barely has time to resist before collapsing to the ground, reduced to nothing but a heap of scrap metal.
That thing on the ground... Is it dead?
Sensing the battle has ended, the refugees hiding in the corners slowly peek their heads out.
The A-Ascendant is dead?
Cough...!
Nirvatia coughs up a mouthful of vital fluid. Still gripping her scythe tightly, she slowly sinks to her knees.
The Ascendant can control the Red Mist... He outmaneuvered me just now... Cough!
Her brow furrows as she struggles to hide her exhaustion in front of everyone.
The surviving refugees slowly approach. Many covered in wounds, they exchange uncertain glances as if waiting for her to issue commands.
...
She doesn't respond to your assessment, only releases a long breath before quietly closing her eyes.
After a prolonged silence, Nirvatia slowly raises one arm.
She leans her entire weight against you, as if silently retaliating for her frustration at you.
My terminal just received a message saying there's a satellite city south of the river with a CPF. It might be... safe there.
I was captured near there... The Ascendant disguised himself as my friend, and then...
Beep beep beep—
The blocker at Nirvatia's waist issues a warning, signaling that the dispersed Red Mist is returning soon.
...
The purification system can't completely eliminate the Red Mist, but it can suppress it to some extent. If the CPF in the Satellite City is still operational...
She pauses, as if it takes her tremendous effort to continue speaking.
...That is indeed the closest safe zone in theory right now.
I still remember the way we came. The Ascendant left a small boat by the riverbank. We... should all be able to squeeze in somehow.
Upon hearing this news, several haggard faces still reeling from shock slowly lift. They look toward you, their eyes flickering with faint hope as they wait for your final decision.
With the situation deteriorating rapidly, there is no time to linger. For now, you have to abandon your plan to venture deeper into the radiation zone and evacuate with the refugees immediately.
Your group trudges unsteadily along the crumbling streets. Fortunately, you encounter no enemies, making your southward journey relatively safe.
After about 15 minutes, the warm breaths against your ear grow steadier, and the weight leaning on you lightens. Nirvatia seems to be gradually shaking off the Red Mist's influence.
She...
We'll be friends from now on, okay?
Ugh...!
She suddenly stops in her tracks, her expression vacant yet frozen, her breathing becoming rapid.
Nirvatia, promise me you'll █▇█▇▇▄.
A buzzing explodes in Nirvatia's mind like a thousand blades scraping against each other, producing a horrific, deafening sound.
I... don't know.
Margaret...
Condensation liquid drips down her cheeks as she clutches her chest tightly.
Something within seems to be fighting to break free. It tears at her flesh, threatening to devour her from the inside out.
Pain that has lain dormant for decades spreads like a tide to her waist.
Countless blurred names and faces merge together, relentlessly pressuring her neural network—
In that moment of falling, a familiar warmth silently arrives beside her, gripping her hand tightly and pulling her out from the mire.
