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墨書 Inktalez
The last cluster of Red Willows struggled and swayed in the wind and snow, the thick layer of snow bending their branches. Whenever the wind blew, this proud Red Willow would emit a mournful creak. Unlike pines and cypresses, perhaps it had its own pride, but its spine was too fragile to bear the lightness of life. At the moment the sky turned overcast, a crisp sound echoed across the vast wasteland as the resilient Red Willow shook off a flurry of snow and ultimately fell. No one cared about the fleeting beauty of a withered tree; its broken branches were stark white, resembling dry bones—weak yet unwilling, pointing helplessly at the sky, resigned to its fate.
Frosty cold and swift snow swirled like a sandstorm, howling through the air. Through the storm, a small black dot suddenly appeared on the snowy expanse, inconspicuous like a grain of sand rolling with the wind.
It was a person—a ragged, disheveled woman. If not for the noticeable bulge on her chest, it would be hard to believe she was a woman. Her long hair was tangled and messy, obscuring her face, making it impossible to see her features. She walked slowly, one foot sinking deep while the other barely touched the ground, as if she had trekked for miles without rest. Yet behind her loomed dark buildings that were still clearly visible, indicating she hadn’t traveled far; logically speaking, this distance shouldn’t have been so arduous.
The woman staggered to the bent Red Willow, leaning against its stark white broken stump before collapsing into a pile of snow. She exhaled deeply, resting against the trunk while gasping for breath. After a moment's rest, she lifted one leg and rolled up her tattered pant leg to reveal a shocking wound on her calf. A large chunk of flesh was missing from her calf; the wound wasn’t new—it appeared purplish-black without scabbing or bleeding anymore. The woman sighed and scooped up some snow to gently wipe over the injury. The color of the wound shifted slightly, appearing somewhat flushed but still unhealthy.
She lowered her pant leg and pulled out a syringe from her pocket along with a small well-sealed vial of clear liquid. The seal bore an elegant character meaning "peace." The woman stared at what she held with an expression that suggested unease; the piercing screams seemed to echo in her ears. She raised her head, looking toward the buildings with a hint of confusion in her eyes. Before entering there, she had been just a powerless survivor facing death at any moment; later she became an expendable living specimen; and now, perhaps she was about to bear a burden that had nothing to do with her.
"Should I trust her?" This question had lingered in her mind for days. She had little connection with the female doctor who had risked her life to deliver this vial and syringe along with two vague sentences that left her feeling troubled.
However, one thing the doctor said was true: the base was indeed sealed off; the entire complex had fallen silent. Her bodily functions had also changed over time. Fatigue grew stronger; strength rapidly diminished; it was already miraculous that she had made it this far. If what the doctor said was true, she had to force herself to follow those instructions—the harsh winter was not an end but rather the beginning of a nightmare. No longer hesitating, she removed the needle cap and drew out the bright liquid before gritting her teeth and injecting it into her vein bit by bit…
After completing this act, darkness deepened once more; there were no special reactions from her body—she didn’t know how exactly it would manifest. Everything that needed to be done was done; as for what lay ahead, she could only leave it to fate. The woman picked up a Red Willow branch from the snow and leaned on it as she continued walking forward without looking back. She faced the raging wind and snow, leaving behind a long trail of footprints in the snow as she walked toward an uncertain future.
…
At Launch Base, Underground Level Two.
The once bright light that felt like daylight had completely extinguished; each area was left with only a dim yellow mining lamp casting eerie shadows.
There were no longer any hurried staff in the corridors; even those ubiquitous Black Ops seemed to have vanished. Hallways, laboratories, rest areas, administrative zones—all transformed into empty alleys filled with hospital beds draped in pristine white sheets scattered throughout the underground space. The beds were fully occupied by men and women of various skin tones lying peacefully in Deep Sleep under orange-yellow lighting. Each person was covered with thin blankets tightly secured by ropes connecting them to their beds.
This presented an extremely bizarre scene; at first glance, one might think they had entered a Morgue. But if one paused to listen closely, they would feel an unsettling chill as faint breaths continuously penetrated their ears. These bodies breathing evenly were cold shells—they had pale faces with muscles atrophying and skin gradually shriveling and cracking; their eye sockets were sunken while their hair dried out… Yet their nails continued to grow and their hearts still beat weakly.
Someone watched over this enormous "Morgue," like a lonely night watchman who wandered back and forth through vast corridors holding a dim yellow mining lamp every day. Confirming that these "Zombies" showed no signs of abnormality, he would turn off the light and return to the central laboratory. The glass partitions of the laboratory were covered with opaque paper; usually there was no light here except for a flickering blue screen in one corner displaying vital signs—small waves but consistent. The screen sat between two beds: on one lay a woman and on another lay a boy connected by conduits to their arteries through soft tubes slowly dripping some solution into their veins.
A candle flickered to life casting shadows on the wall where a man’s silhouette appeared. He removed his glasses and placed them on the table before sitting beside the woman's bed gently caressing her skin.
Silence lingered for quite some time until faint footsteps echoed outside the laboratory approaching this way. Soon after, someone opened the door holding a mining lamp at its entrance—a thin figure stepped inside first and spoke: "Chengyu, everything is fine upstairs; we can seal off underground separately now."
"Fine, I'll handle it myself," Kenny said wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out a long sigh.
"You should have listened to my advice back then; otherwise, it wouldn't have turned out like this," Professor Yang remarked, his gaze complex. He hesitated several times, wanting to say more but ultimately swallowed his words.
"Are you blaming me, teacher?" Kenny shook his head with a bitter smile, a hint of helplessness in his expression. "I still believe that what I did was right."
"Perhaps, but unfortunately your bodyguard is unwilling to use the medication, so we can only wait for recovery. It's not useful right now," Old Yang said, consciously skipping the previous topic. He strolled over to the bedside and sat down, looking at Su Lan's peaceful profile. A glimmer of satisfaction flashed in the old man's eyes as he glanced at the IV drip inserted into her arm. "What's this for?"
Kenny looked at him and replied softly, "Her bodily functions have significantly declined during the dormant period; she needs nutritional support."
"That's futile. After the awakening, she'll need to eat a lot anyway; there's no need for nutritional fluids," Old Yang shrugged, puzzled by why Kenny would do something so unnecessary.
Kenny gently touched Su Lan's cheek, a different kind of satisfaction radiating from him as he smiled. "That may be true later, but right now she's losing a lot of moisture. If we don't provide nutrition, her skin will become dry and shriveled. She certainly wouldn't want to wake up looking like an old woman."
Old Man Yang opened his mouth, initially intending to tease his student but held back upon seeing Kenny's serious demeanor. After surveying the room for a moment, he sighed, "You don't have any help around you now. I'm getting old; there are many times when I feel powerless."
"It's okay; I can manage."
"What about your former subordinates?" Old Yang suddenly recalled something and asked curiously, "Black Man is injured, Foreign Girl is asleep; isn't there still that young fellow?"
"He hasn't returned," Kenny raised an eyebrow and sighed again with resignation. "Something must have happened to him; it's a pity."
"And you? How much longer can you hold on?" Old Yang shifted the conversation to what he was most concerned about.
Kenny understood what the old man was thinking. He chuckled lightly and replied nonchalantly, "Organs naturally age over a long period; during this time, I can inject new sequence reagents whenever necessary."
"So?" Old Yang connected the dots and muttered to himself, "So you're planning to undergo another change when the next harsh winter arrives."
"Exactly. I appreciate you staying with me for another year," Kenny smiled apologetically. "The end is always worth looking forward to, isn't it?"
"Stop feeding me nonsense." Old Man Yang shot him a glare, accepting his student's apology. He brushed off the hem of his lab coat and stood up, saying, "I'll head up first. There are still over twenty people; we should see some reactions within a week. You can start the lockdown now."
"Alright, I'll get to it," Kenny replied, also standing up to escort Old Yang to the door.
Before leaving, Old Yang turned back and asked, "By the way, did you send a group out?"
"Yes, preparing for the Winter Famine. We’ll need a lot of food; live specimens aren't clean enough; we need fresh ones," Kenny said without hiding anything from Old Yang, not even mentioning the Field Personnel who were assisting.
Old Yang frowned and stood there for a moment, pondering. He asked, "What if we can't find enough? What if they leave and don't come back?"
"That won't happen. They've all been treated with the drug. The leftover personnel from the Establishment haven't used too much; we still have stock," Kenny reassured Old Yang confidently, gently calming him as he escorted him to the elevator bay.
"After the lockdown, do we need to completely cut off the power?" Old Yang felt he was being a bit nagging, but there was no choice. Kenny had to take charge himself, and as an old man, he could only accompany his student at the risk of his own life, trying to cover every detail to avoid any mistakes.
"Everything is arranged; don’t worry," Kenny said with unusual patience today. Before the cabin door closed, he waved to the people inside: "See you at the Beginning of Spring."
As the cabin door shut, swallowing the last beam of light, thick darkness enveloped Kenny as he strolled through the eerie silence of the underground space. The sound of his footsteps faded away; it felt as if the air in the darkness had stagnated. The faint sound of breathing echoed like drumbeats in a ritual, rising and falling with Kenny's steps. Halfway through, Kenny suddenly felt cheerful. Clearing his throat, he began to softly sing a verse from Dingjun Mountain as he ventured deeper into the Ink Black.
"The generals return to camp~ by tomorrow noon at three o'clock success shall be~~!"
(End of Gobi Desert)
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