"Little Yixue, your grandpa's fine—he just talked too long and needs some oxygen. Don't worry." Old Man Hua's steady voice came through the headset.
"Mm… all right. Please look after Grandpa for me. I'll pilot the mecha back and take you for a spin once I finish the rookie drill." She returned to her tutorial.
"Off you go, then."
Ending the call, Old Man Hua watched the staff carry Old Wang to a chair.
"Quick, plug that nasal cannula back in!"
Tong Yao remembered Old Wang had just stepped on it.
The corner of her mouth twitched.
"Old Hua, isn't that a bit… unsanitary?"
"Tch—no time. Use it first."
Old Man Hua knew Old Wang's old quirk: when he got too excited, he needed oxygen. No rush.
By past experience, he'd be fine.
A few minutes of O₂ and he'd recover.
After settling Old Wang in the infirmary, Old Man Hua led the experts to keep watching Wang Yixue's every move.
Wang Yixue adjusted her holographic helmet slightly.
She looked at the rookie tutorial floating before her.
[Current drill: limb-coordination training.]
[Start? (Next drill: rail-gun target practice.)]
"Start!"
She clenched her fair little fist.
Determination flashed in her eyes… less than a kilometre away.
Eagle Station.
The cross-shaped station floated in low-Earth orbit.
"Click—"
The node-hatch gave a soft clack.
Migen, in a white EVA suit, poked half his body out.
The boundless, glittering river of stars shook him to the core.
"Migen, don't block the hatch—out you go." An Chui gave him a gentle push from behind.
Migen carefully overcame the weightlessness, grabbed a handrail and drifted outside.
This was their twenty-seventh extravehicular activity.
EVA, in name—really just letting astronauts stretch their legs.
Stay cooped in the habitat module all day and even the healthy go nuts.
They clipped their safety tethers and leaned against the node module to admire the cosmos.
At that moment—
Migen suddenly pointed at a tiny red dot in the distance.
"What's that? It wasn't there before."
"Probably a new satellite from Russia or Xia. Ignore it."
"But… it looks like it's dancing?"
Migen stared, brows knit.
An Chui followed his finger—and his scalp prickled.
Dimly visible,
a crimson humanoid machine was striking pose after pose.
An Chui even thought of some centre-part-hair star in suspenders—preposterous!
The two exchanged glances, terror mirrored in each other's eyes.
When they looked again, the red mecha stood stock-still.
An Chui exhaled—must've been an ordinary satellite, a visual trick.
Migen relaxed too.
Just then—
two red flames burst from the mecha's shoulders, one after another.
They carved two straight trails past the astronauts, heading for geostationary orbit.
An Chui's face drained; a violent shudder ran through him.
He spun around—and saw two fierce explosions in the black.
Two dragon-fly-like satellites were shredded to dust,
and, dragged by gravity, began falling into the atmosphere.
"What the—"
"God, what just happened!"
An Chui stood dumbstruck, brain short-circuited.
Beside him, Migen's pupils quaked, eyes rolling back, nearly fainting.
His jaw trembled, teeth chattering,
molars clacking so hard they chipped!
What the hell was that—terrifying!!
After a long moment the two finally drew a life-saving breath,
and screamed in unison,
"Mommy, we're doomed—aliens are attacking Earth!"
"Quick, report to the Aerospace Bureau—Earth could be finished!"
"Utter nonsense!"
Eagle Aerospace Bureau HQ.
Three-star General Paul slammed the desk, eyes blazing.
"An Chui and Migen have lost their minds up there."
"Aliens? It's a hoax!"
"Contact the researchers in Puerto Rico—use the over-the-horizon radio telescope and identify that red monstrosity!"
When Paul raged, everyone tucked tail.
Minutes later, several fresh photos lay on his desk.
Blurred, yet unmistakable: a genuine mecha.
Paul's face darkened as if water could drip.
Deep in his eyes lingered shock that refused to fade.
This was big—
not aliens, but just as terrifying.
A mecha that had, minutes ago, blown away two satellites with two shots,
represented tech at least ten years ahead of the cutting edge.
If it wanted to trash the station, it could do it in passing, effortlessly.
Heck, it could probably fire that weird cannon from orbit and hit the presidential mansion dead-on.
The more he thought, the colder his feet became; the chill crawled up his legs and back, making him shudder.
No—if something else happened, the mess would be colossal.
Let the top brass carry the can!
With that, Paul grabbed the phone and dialled.
"Beep—"
"Office of the Secretary of Defense. Who's calling and what's the matter?"
A cool female voice answered.
"This is Paul from Aerospace. SSS-level military emergency—put me through to General Austin."
"Gasp—one moment, please!"
...Zhonghai Research Base.
Old Wang was still on oxygen.
Most of the time Old Man Hua kept his eyes on the big screen, tracking Wang Yixue.
Seeing she seemed to have finished the rookie tutorial,
he asked,
"Little Yixue, how does it feel—can you pilot now?"
"Ugh! Grandpa Hua, you're so long-winded—I told you: finish the tutorial and I can pilot jiangtian no. 1."
"Hehe… little miss is cross!"
Delight unconcealed, Old Man Hua stroked his beard.
Suddenly remembering something, he asked,
"By the way, I saw you fire at something far away."
"You mean the Shoulder Railgun? I picked two random spots for target practice."
"What—target practice in outer space?"
Old Man Hua's eyes bulged; he swallowed hard.
Even numbed by today's shocks, he was still startled.
The power of jiangtian no. 1 had surpassed his comprehension.
With this, Xia's tech could leapfrog forward.
A tech-strong nation—no mere slogan!
"Eh?"
Old Man Hua suddenly sensed something off.
"Um… Little Yixue, you said you fired at random spots—where exactly were the targets?"