The fast screams outside got closer.
Not all at once. In bursts. Like something was running through cars and bodies, hitting metal, bouncing off, changing direction.
People inside the base heard it too. The crowd pressed back from the gate without being told.
Zhao Qingshan lifted his rifle. His face was tight. "He brought them," he said.
Lan Huan didn't answer. His eyes stayed on Zhou Qinsong through the mesh.
Zhou stood like he was dry, calm, and bored. Like the screams were weather.
"Open the gate," Zhou called. "Or I keep pushing."
Zhao shouted back, "Push what?"
Zhou's smile didn't change. "The herd," he said. "Noise attracts noise. You know that already."
Another fast scream cut through the rain.
Something hit the outer barrier hard enough to make it shake.
A soldier inside the base flinched and nearly fired.
Zhao barked, "Hold your fire!"
Lan Huan spoke, low, to Zhao only. "He wants you to open so they get in," he said.
Zhao's jaw clenched. "If we don't open, he keeps pressing zombies into the barrier until it breaks anyway," he said.
Lan Huan didn't deny it.
He Li's voice was quiet, close to Lan Huan. "Sir," he said, "outside line is getting thick. If fast ones lead, the outer barrier might fail by night."
He Chenyu's hand flexed at his side. "We can't fight a gate breach with civilians in the lane," he said.
Lan Huan's storm pressure rose a little. "Zhou," Lan Huan called out, "what exactly do you want?"
Zhou Qinsong smiled. "You," he said. "And your unit."
Zhao swore. "Of course."
Zhou raised his voice so everyone could hear. "General Lan Huan. Capital Base Forward Command offers you protection, supplies, and authority," he said. "In return you report under command and deliver all discovered cores."
The crowd inside the base whispered.
Cores.
That word was starting to spread now. Like He Li warned.
Zhao's eyes went hard. He shouted, "We don't have cores!"
Zhou laughed. "You will," he said. "Everyone will."
Lan Huan's voice stayed cold. "And if I refuse?"
Zhou's smile stayed. "Then I write you as hostile," he said. "Then I take you anyway."
Zhao's face tightened. "You don't have the right," he snapped.
Zhou turned his head slightly, like he was finally noticing Zhao. "Commander," he said, polite and sharp, "rights are for peacetime."
The words made Luo Yan's stomach turn.
This was the first time the apocalypse felt like it had politics again.
Lan Huan spoke low to Zhao. "Don't open," he said again.
Zhao hissed, "Then what? You want me to die with a closed gate?"
Lan Huan's eyes narrowed. "We buy time," he said.
He turned and raised his voice. "Zhou Qinsong," he called. "I will not open the gate."
Zhou's smile didn't move. "Then you choose death," he said.
Lan Huan continued, voice steady. "But I will speak," he said. "One minute. You stand still and pull your fast infected back. If you don't, I will call my dragon."
The crowd inside the base went still.
Dragon.
Zhao's eyes widened. He snapped his head toward Lan Huan. "Don't," he said low.
Lan Huan didn't look away from Zhou. "One minute," Lan Huan repeated.
Zhou stared through the mesh. Then he smiled wider. "You're bluffing," he said.
Lan Huan's voice didn't change. "Try me."
For a long beat, Zhou didn't move.
Then he lifted one hand, palm out, like a signal.
The fast screams outside shifted away a little. Not gone. Just pulled back, like dogs being yanked by leashes.
Zhou called, "One minute. Speak."
Lan Huan stepped back from the gate and turned to Zhao. "Give me your loudspeaker," he said.
Zhao stared. "Why?"
Lan Huan's voice was flat. "Because your people will listen to it," he said.
Zhao's face twisted, then he barked at a soldier, "Bring it!"
A portable speaker was shoved into Lan Huan's hands.
Lan Huan climbed onto the same crate Zhao had used, so he could be seen.
He didn't look like a hero. He looked like a commander who was tired of watching people die for nothing.
He spoke into the loudspeaker. His voice carried.
"This base is sealed," he said. "Nobody opens the gate for any outside order."
People started shouting right away. Angry. Fearful.
Lan Huan didn't stop.
"If you rush the gate, you will die," he said. "If you fight soldiers for space, you will die. If you hide scratches, you will die."
The words were simple. Ugly. True.
He paused. Looked across the crowd.
"The fence holds because we hold it," Lan Huan said. "Not because anyone saved us."
Some civilians stared at him. Some looked away.
Lan Huan continued. "Tonight, every able person will work," he said. "Carry scrap. Carry wire. Carry water. If you can't fight, you build. If you can't build, you cook. If you can't cook, you carry."
Luo Yan swallowed. He felt those words land hard. Work or die. That was the world now.
Lan Huan finished. "We will not be collected," he said. "We will not be taken."
Then he stepped down and handed the speaker back to Zhao.
Zhao stared at him like he didn't know whether to punch him or salute him.
"What you just did," Zhao said low, "is going to make them hate you."
Lan Huan's eyes were cold. "Good."
Outside the gate, Zhou Qinsong laughed, loud enough to be heard through the metal.
"Nice speech," Zhou called. "Now watch."
He lifted his hand again.
The screams outside surged back, closer than before.
Something slammed the outer barrier hard. Metal groaned.
Zhou's voice turned flat. "You have ten minutes," he said. "Then I push until it breaks."
Zhao's face went pale. "He's going to breach us," he whispered.
Lan Huan looked at the gate, jaw tight.
And Luo Yan realized, with a sick drop in his stomach, that the dragon might not be a bluff anymore.