The flames of war were finally, barely extinguished after a heavy price was paid. It wasn't a victory; it was more like a probing attack by the invaders that, after encountering resistance and losses beyond their expectations, chose to temporarily retreat, lick their wounds, and wait for the next, even more violent bite.
The sky over Tianhe City was still shrouded in smoke and dust, but the piercing shrieks of energy weapons and the violent sounds of explosions had thinned out. After leaving behind dozens of wrecks and hundreds of corpses, the Taotie assault ships withdrew from the atmosphere like a receding tide, leaving behind only a devastated city and countless broken families.
Under the emergency support of the Monkey King and Leina, the remnants of the Recruit Company finally withdrew from the crumbling defensive line and retreated into a relatively safe rear rest area. Calling it "rest" was more like lingering on the brink of death. Everyone was wounded, exhausted to the extreme in both spirit and body. More importantly, a heavy low pressure, almost solidifying, hung over this young team, and the core of this low pressure was Ge Xiaolun, huddled in a corner with his head buried almost to his knees.
Bleeding bandages were wrapped around Liu Chuang's shoulder and leg. He leaned against the wall with his eyes closed, his chest heaving violently, but the veins on his hand gripping the axe bulged, his knuckles white. Zhao Xin sat leaning on the other side with a limp leg, his face pale, his eyes unfocused as he stared at the ceiling. Rui Mengmeng sat beside Cheng Yaowen, carefully treating a deep-to-the-bone charred wound on his arm, tears falling silently, yet she bit her lip to keep from making a sound. Cheng Yaowen's face was ashen, not just from his injuries, but also from an indescribable sense of frustration and... an unmaskable rejection of a certain person.
Qi Lin held her sniper rifle in her arms; the barrel was covered in dust and dried blue blood. She wiped it silently with mechanical movements, but her eyes were as sharp as knives, occasionally sweeping over Ge Xiaolun in the corner with a gaze cold enough to freeze someone to death.
Qiangwei sat leaning against the doorway furthest from everyone, her head lowered. Her bangs covered her eyes, leaving only her tightly pursed, bloodless lips and slightly trembling shoulders visible. The pistol in her hand had been polished to a shine, its cold metallic luster reflecting her equally cold heart at that moment.
The Monkey King carried the Golden Cudgel on his shoulder, leaning against the door outside. There was no expression on his hairy, thunder-god-like face, but his Fiery Golden Eyes swept over everyone in the room. When they lingered on Ge Xiaolun, a flash of undisguised disappointment, anger, and a "pained frustration at his failure to live up to expectations" flickered through them. Leina stood beside him with her arms crossed, her face also looking grim, but it was more of a complex irritability and impatience with the mess before her.
Silence, an oppressive silence, almost threatened to burst the dilapidated room that served as a temporary medical station.
Finally, the Monkey King moved. He stood up straight, and his Golden Cudgel thudded heavily onto the ground, making a dull sound that drew everyone's attention.
Step by step, he walked up to the huddled Ge Xiaolun and stopped. A huge shadow completely enveloped Ge Xiaolun.
Feeling the movement, Ge Xiaolun's body jolted, and he buried his head even lower, almost shrinking into his Black Armor.
"Look up." The Monkey King's voice wasn't loud, but it carried an unquestionable authority, a far cry from his usual cynical manner.
Ge Xiaolun's whole body was stiff; he didn't dare move.
"I told you to look up." The Monkey King's tone grew a bit heavier.
With difficulty, Ge Xiaolun slowly raised his face. His face was still stained with dust, tear tracks, and dried blood. His eyes were red and swollen, his gaze scattered, filled with fear, shame, and bewilderment—devoid of even a hint of the spirit a warrior should have.
The Monkey King looked down at him, his Fiery Golden Eyes seemingly trying to see right through him.
"Ge Xiaolun." The Monkey King spoke slowly, each word like a stone hitting the ground. "Everyone saw today's battle. Liu Chuang was reckless, but he fought with his life. Zhao Xin was fast, weaving through the battlefield. Rui Mengmeng was honest; she blocked blades. Cheng Yaowen, Qi Lin, Qiangwei... every one of them stayed in their position and gave their all. Even if they were injured, even if they fell, they didn't take a single step back, and they certainly didn't... think about running away."
His gaze swept over the other recruits before landing back on Ge Xiaolun's face. His voice suddenly rose, carrying a thunderous fury:
"Of everyone, only you! Only you, Ge Xiaolun! You have the hardest turtle shell, and you're fine after getting hit! Everyone thought you should be charging at the very front, that you should be blocking the most bullets for your teammates! But what about you?!"
The Golden Cudgel in the Monkey King's hand suddenly pointed at Ge Xiaolun:
"What the hell were you doing?! Hiding! Concealing yourself! Seeing the enemy charge, your first reaction was to scurry away like a rat! Your teammates were bleeding, fighting for their lives, and you were fucking shivering in a corner! In the end, you actually wanted to drag Qiangwei, who was commanding the battle, to be a deserter with you?!"
"Power of the Galaxy?! Bullshit Power of the Galaxy! I've lived a long time and seen cowards, but never one as pathetic as you! Are you fucking worthy of the Black Armor you're wearing?! Are you worthy of the people who count on you to fight and protect them?! Are you worthy of... yourself?!"
The Monkey King's verbal lashing crashed down on Ge Xiaolun like a violent storm, and it struck the hearts of every recruit in the room. Liu Chuang gritted his teeth, Zhao Xin closed his eyes, Rui Mengmeng's tears flowed even harder, Cheng Yaowen turned his head away in pain, Qi Lin's hands stopped wiping her weapon as her fingers turned white from the force, and Qiangwei's body trembled even more violently.
Ge Xiaolun's face was as pale as paper. His lips quivered as he tried to defend himself, but he couldn't make a sound. Only his tears welled up uncontrollably again.
"Answer me!" the Monkey King barked. "At that moment, what exactly was going through your head?! Thinking about how to survive?! Thinking about how to run away?! Huh?!"
Startled by the shout, Ge Xiaolun jolted and instinctively curled up tighter. With a sob, he spoke incoherently, "I... I'm scared... I'm really scared... They will die... We will all die... I... I don't want to die..."
"Scared?!" The Monkey King laughed in extreme anger, as if he had heard the world's biggest joke. "Who the hell isn't afraid of dying?! I am! Everyone here is! But does being afraid mean you can be a deserter?! Does being afraid mean you can abandon your comrades?! Is being afraid your excuse for being a coward?!"
He suddenly raised the Golden Cudgel. Golden light swirled around it, emitting a terrifying pressure.
"It seems reasoning with you is useless. What you lack isn't power, but this!" The Monkey King poked his own chest heavily with the Golden Cudgel. "Guts! Soul! The spirit of a warrior who would rather die than retreat!"
"Since you won't listen, I'll make your body remember! This strike today is for your comrades whom you almost got killed! It's for everyone who still had a shred of hope for you! And it's for... yourself!"
Before his words had even faded, golden light exploded from the Monkey King's eyes. The Golden Cudgel in his hand turned into a bolt of golden lightning. Without using any divine transformations, it was just the simplest, purest, and heaviest horizontal sweep. Carrying the whistling sound of wind and thunder, it slammed hard against Ge Xiaolun's chest!
Bang——!!!
A dull, heavy thud resounded, like a giant hammer striking a drum! Before Ge Xiaolun could even scream, he was hit as if by a train at full speed. The Black Armor on his body, known as the "Undying Body," groaned under the unbearable load, and the armor on his chest visibly dented inward! He spat out blood, and his body, like a broken kite, crashed through the wall of the temporary medical station, flying backward at an incredible speed!
"Xiaolun!" Rui Mengmeng cried out, but she was held back firmly by Cheng Yaowen.
Everyone else closed their eyes or turned their heads. No one spoke, and no one tried to stop it.
The Monkey King retracted the Golden Cudgel. Without even looking in the direction Ge Xiaolun had flown, he said in a deep voice to the remaining people in the room, especially Qiangwei, "If this strike of mine doesn't wake him up, he's finished. If it does, it's his fortune. Deal with the rest yourselves."
After speaking, he shouldered the Golden Cudgel, turned, and vanished from the spot in a flash, leaving behind an even more oppressive silence in the room and the "Power of the Galaxy" lying in the distant green belt, fate unknown.
...
The smoke of war had not yet dissipated, but the instinct for survival had already driven the survivors to begin struggling. Tianhe City, once a prosperous metropolis, was now a hell of weeping and groaning.
Collapsed skyscrapers were everywhere, their twisted steel bars piercing the gray sky like the skeletons of giant beasts. Streets were blocked by rubble, and burning car wrecks were scattered about. The pungent smell of charred remains, blood, and strange odors from chemical leaks mixed together, making it suffocating.
Children's heart-wrenching cries echoed among the ruins as they searched for parents who could no longer respond. Groans and cries for help from the injured came from every corner, weak and desperate. People who had lost their homes stood blankly on the ruins or sat slumped by the roadside, their eyes hollow. Some, overcome with emotion, directed angry and helpless curses at the sky, at invisible enemies, and at... that out-of-place "safe zone."
AI Model: gemini-3.1-flash-lite
Rescue troops and spontaneously organized civilian rescue teams were struggling through the ruins, racing against time to dig out survivors and transport the wounded.
But in the face of such widespread destruction and so many casualties, their efforts seemed like a drop in the bucket.
And that "isolated island" centered on the Angel International Building appeared increasingly jarring against the backdrop of the surrounding carnage.
Inside the force field, buildings remained intact, streets were clean, and even the green belts remained lush.
Outside the force field, however, was a living hell.
This contrast quickly fermented various complex and extreme emotions among the desperate crowd.
There were those who were grateful to the Angel for previously destroying the Taotie warships, but many more, overwhelmed by fear and loss, or already harboring resentment, began to point their fingers at this "indifferent" safe zone.
Especially some survivors who were not far from the boundary, having seen the terrifying firepower of the Angel International Building and witnessed the pristine condition inside the "isolated island," began to gather outside the force field boundary.
At first, they just watched and whispered.
But as more and more people gathered, emotions began to spiral out of control.
"Angel! Aren't you gods?! Aren't you righteous?! Save us!"
"Look outside! How many people have died! And you're just watching from inside?!"
"Open the door! Let us in! We have wounded! We have children!"
"With such great power, why don't you kill all those alien bastards?! Why do you only guard this little patch of land of yours?!"
"Hypocrites! Cold-blooded! Refusing to help those in danger!"
Crying and pleading gradually evolved into accusations and questioning, finally culminating in angry curses and shoving.
Some people began to try to break through the invisible force field boundary, throwing stones and slamming their bodies against it.
Although it was useless, the hysterical emotion spread like a plague.
Some even began to organize, kneeling outside the boundary, crying loudly, engaging in moral kidnapping, trying to use public opinion and so-called "humanitarianism" to force the Angel to open the gates of "sanctuary."
Top floor of the Angel International Building, viewing hall.
Artoria stood quietly by the window, overlooking the increasingly crowded and agitated crowd at the boundary below.
Her face was expressionless; there was no pity, no anger, only a calmness like a deep pool.
Minerva stood beside her, the entire Zhuifeng Squad was on standby but made no move, merely watching coldly from below.
Angel Yan had also returned at some point, standing not far behind Artoria, watching the farce below with a mocking sneer at the corner of her mouth.
"It has begun," Angel Yan said softly, "The greed and cowardice in human nature, and... the moral blackmail of the strong.
As long as they suffer misfortune, they believe the strong are obligated to save them; otherwise, they are cold-blooded and heartless.
Such a... familiar script."
Artoria did not respond, only watching an old man, surrounded by a few people and looking like a scholar, walk tremblingly to the very front of the boundary.
He held a loudspeaker found from who knows where, and with a sorrowful and impassioned voice, shouted toward the building:
"...Envoys of the Angel Civilization! We have seen your power! We are grateful for your previous help!
But now, Tianhe City is bleeding, and countless innocent lives are fading!
You possess such great power, yet you draw lines to imprison yourselves and turn a blind eye to the suffering before you.
Does this align with your creed of 'justice'?!"
"With great power comes great responsibility! Since you have descended to Earth and displayed miracles, you should shoulder the responsibility of protecting the weak!
Open this barrier, let the wounded in! Let the elderly and children in!
This is the bottom line of civilization! It is the radiance of humanity!"
"If you persist in watching coldly, then your so-called 'justice' is nothing but a hypocritical fig leaf!
What essential difference is there between you and those invaders?!"
The old man's words were highly inflammatory, immediately inciting larger-scale echoes and cries from outside the boundary.
Many people followed, shouting "Open the barrier!" "Angels, save us!", and some even began to kneel and kowtow.
A trace of extremely cold mockery finally flashed in Artoria's eyes.
She raised her hand, aiming at the old man who was still holding forth below, as well as the group of the most agitated and clamorous people around him.
She lightly clenched her five fingers in the air.
Hum!
An invisible, gentle yet irresistible force descended instantly, enveloping the dozen or so people, including the old man.
They discovered in terror that their bodies were uncontrollably floating, then, as if grasped by an invisible giant hand, they flew up into the air, crossing that invisible boundary, but not into the "isolated island," instead... they were thrown far away!
Like discarding bags of trash, the dozen or so people screamed as they traced a parabola, accurately thrown onto a pile of relatively soft rubble hundreds of meters away.
They fell in a heap, disheveled and battered, though not seriously injured, but dusty and wretched, and the loudspeaker was shattered.
This sudden scene caused the noisy crowd outside the boundary to fall into instant silence.
Everyone looked in terror at the top of the building, at the blurred figure standing by the window exuding a cold aura.
Artoria's voice, once again, echoed clearly in everyone's ears through some means, calm, yet every word like ice:
"Moral kidnapping?"
"Responsibility?"
"The radiance of humanity?"
She paused, then let out a clear, undisguised sneer:
"You seem to have forgotten, or... have chosen to forget."
"Not long ago, before this city was burning, before your loved ones had died."
"Your representatives, Elder Huang, General Du Kao, in the name of Earth civilization, personally and solemnly rejected the 'protection' of the Angel."
"They chose dignity, chose independence, and chose to determine their own fate by their own strength."
"I was present at the time and heard it with my own ears."
"I respected that choice."
"That is why this boundary exists.
This is not a sanctuary; it is merely the self-protection distance of Angel properties."
"Now, disaster has struck, losses are heavy, and you cannot afford the price of your own choices, so you want to raise the banners of 'responsibility' and 'morality' to force us to violate the will you previously held, and open the 'gates of sanctuary' we never promised?"
"What is this? Going back on your word? Bullying the weak? Or do you think the 'justice' of the Angel is a toy that can be manipulated at will by your crying and moral kidnapping?"
Artoria's voice suddenly turned sharp:
"I will say this one last time, listen clearly!"
"Within the boundary is the Angel's temporary control zone; trespassers will bear the consequences."
"Outside the boundary is the battlefield you chose yourselves, and the price you need to face."
"The Angel has no obligation to cover the losses for your choices, and will certainly not accept any form of moral kidnapping!"
"As for 'justice'..."
She raised her hand, pointing to the sky.
A beam of light shot from her fingertip, unfolding a huge, crystal-clear holographic image in the sky.
In the image, it was the scene where Elder Huang, Du Kao, Leina, and Angel Yan were negotiating in the guest room of the Angel International Building previously.
The screen focused on Du Kao's final closing statement and his firm expression of rejecting 'protection,' the voice clearly audible:
"...We insist that the fate of Earth must be in the hands of Earthlings themselves... We have the confidence, and the determination, to rely on the strength of our own people... to defend our home..."
The image froze on Du Kao's determined and resolute face.
"This was your choice," Artoria withdrew her hand, and the holographic image slowly dissipated.
"In black and white, with images as proof."
"Now, take responsibility for your own choices, or... go find those who made the choices for you."
"Do not waste each other's time here again, or challenge my patience."
After speaking, she no longer looked at the faces below—some dull, some ashamed, some angry, some desperate—and turned around, taking Minerva's hand.
Her figure disappeared into the viewing hall, leaving behind that cold boundary, and outside the boundary, a silence and despair even more complex and unspeakable.
On the top floor, Angel Yan looked at Artoria's departing back, then looked down, shook her head, and also turned to leave.
Only the Zhuifeng Squad remained, like the most loyal Sentinels, guarding this isolated island, and within the island, Ge Xiaolun, who had just struggled to crawl up from the rubble pit, looking toward the building with hollow eyes.
Above the ruins, weeping and moaning continued.
But the clamor and moral kidnapping against the Angel, in the face of that cold "throwing out" and that irrefutable image, were like being choked by the throat, unable to make a righteous sound again.
Only the bone-deep cold reality weighed heavily on everyone's heart.
The path was chosen by themselves, and the blood, too, must be shed by themselves.
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