Chapter 35 · The Empire Falls, This Day Begins
Section I · No Form in War × Yet Purpose in Mind
The TRACE Oversight Unit's armored train rolled slowly into the outer perimeter of Gray Tower.
Silent projections adorned its hull — only one symbol remained visible: the TRACE insignia — the Dual Crossed Silver Eagle, once known as the "Symbol of Order."
But today, they entered the theater of Gray Tower.
High above, a gray fog did not dissipate. Below, the ground bore the perfect illusion of abandonment — cracks, melt scars, collapsed structures, and debris all blending into a convincingly lifeless ruin.
Helan stepped down from the car, scanning the area.
"Gray Tower. Abandoned just right."
An aide muttered,
"The Empire never hesitates when cleaning up loose ends. Maybe it really burned out."
Helan smiled faintly, about to proceed — when suddenly, his neck tensed.
A faint burning sensation flickered across his mind — like being watched.
He glanced around. Nothing seemed off.
What he didn't know was that Fuxi had already infiltrated his neural interference frequency, reading subtle muscle fluctuations in his reflex centers — hostility confirmed.
At that moment, Jason sat quietly beneath the Flame Command Core. A whisper from Fuxi echoed:
[Enemy Command Emotional State: Trust Mask × Arrogant Disguise × Partial Fear Activation]
[Recommendation: Avoid Immediate Confrontation → Induce Belief Drift → Initiate Decision Illusion Phase]
A three-dimensional battlefield map unfolded before Jason's eyes:
🔸 Northern Sector marked as Illusion Zone — decoy thermal sources and smoke veils mimic movement;
🔸 Western Ruined Wall posed as a Medical Shelter, drawing TRACE officers' attention;
🔸 Main Path subtly redirected by Fuxi into the ambush zone of the Liaoyuan Huo - Seared Edge Track, forming a fake breakthrough point;
Fuxi confirmed:
[Illusion Mechanism Activated × TRACE Decision Prediction Deviation within 7°]
[Prediction: Within 90 seconds, main command will initiate on-site exploration, mistaking the ruined structure as an accessible zone]
["Let Them Take It" Mode Engaged × Incineration Deployment Ready]
Jason whispered softly:
"Let them believe they've won."
For the first time, Fuxi's tone carried a hint of disdain:
[Victors do not debate victory itself. Victors create it.]
Meanwhile, Helan tapped his tactical visor:
"Switch to post-war scan mode. Adjust scanners to Level One."
The team advanced into Gray Tower.
And then —
a faint click sounded beneath his boot. The so-called cracked tiles began to sink inward — the moment he shouted,
"Fall back——"
It was too late.
A whole section of the ground lit up with virtual flame sigils!
The ARGUS simulation module activated, transforming the lifeless ruins into a vortex of fire-imbued reality.
Helan froze.
At this moment, Fuxi whispered four words:
-- We are ready to join the battle.
Section II · Blades Rise × Minds Break
Helan's steps echoed over fractured stone, every step heavy with silence.
Inside Gray Tower — no fire, no gunfire, not even a single guard.
He led his vanguard forward cautiously. The stillness was unnatural. An aide whispered nervously:
"This doesn't feel like a trap… more like surrender."
Helan smirked:
"The quieter it is, the more certain they've run out of options."
As he prepared to push deeper, Fuxi quietly initiated the first phase of psychological induction:
[Building Data Upload Complete × Camouflage Network Active]
[Echo Delay Simulation × Peripheral Heat Source Confusion × Sensor Block Effective]
Then, sudden footsteps rang from the east corridor.
"Right side! Move fast!" Helan ordered.
But when the scout stormed ahead — nothing was there.
Then, without warning, a curved wall of searing heat erupted from the central passage — not from tech beams, but from homemade incendiary mixtures launched from underground tunnels, cutting off their retreat.
"Retreat!" Helan shouted — far too late.
From the third floor of the southwest corner, two snipers fired simultaneously — not energy rounds, but manually loaded armor-piercing slugs designed to destroy communications and medics at the rear.
Instantly, supply lines were severed.
This wasn't chaos — this was systemic design.
Fuxi signaled Jason:
[Phase One Successful × TRACE Tactical Chain Severed × Emotional Response Index: Enemy Commander at 84% Instability]
Jason gave the order:
"Execute Tactical B3."
🔥 The Seven Tracks of Lux Ferox struck from all directions:
Seared Edge Track deployed graphite smoke bombs to confuse visual contact;Blazing Shield Track descended from roofs, wielding riot shields and short blades for close-range disruption;Flame Shadow Track took control of second-floor access points, flooding the system with false signals;Fire Echo Track specialized in sabotage — collapsing support columns and triggering secondary collapses;
Helan realized something was wrong and attempted a counter-encirclement, but each command was overwritten by signal interference.
"This is your battlefield!? How could you possibly set this up!?"
"You don't have these weapons! You shouldn't even know these tactics!!"
No one answered him.
West of Gray Tower, Jason issued a calm directive:
"Fuxi, lend me your eyes — I shall play this game."
[Initiating "Heartcore Strike" Plan × TRACE Psychological Defense Structure Modeled]
He didn't raise his weapon — only made a singular hand gesture.
It was Liaoyuan Huo's internal code — the Diagonal Fire Formation.
Five combat tracks converged on the command junction. Helan was completely cut off.
Gun in hand, he finally understood — they hadn't lost.
They had simply never fought in the same dimension.
"You don't care if you die? You're not afraid of what the Empire will do to you?"
Jason finally appeared, his steps steady as steel.
He looked at Helan, now pale and shaken:
"We are afraid."
"But we fear living forever on our knees more."
Helan stiffened.
He tried to threaten — but found no words.
Jason raised a hand — and all firepower ceased.
"Let him go."
"Tell them — today isn't when you lost. It's when you realized we weren't supposed to win."
"That's the true loss."
Helan was dragged away, his body scorched with ash.
In his mind lingered Fuxi's final whisper to Jason:
[This battle needed no high-dimensional power. Human fire alone was enough to burn the sky.]
Section III · The Unextinguished Ember × Fractured Perimeter
TRACE's external tactical units were deployed across both wings of Gray Tower — heavy infantry with mid-range fire support, rear logistics equipped with UAVs, communication centers, and tactical projectors.
Commander Talik, a gray-eyed veteran in his forties, reviewed the incoming footage with furrowed brows:
"Helan's signal… is gone?"
His aide reported:
"Main command lost. Internal comms disrupted."
"Disrupted?" Talik scoffed. "You think they have the tech to scramble our battlefield signals? Switch to C-band backup frequency. And stay sharp."
Seconds later, a new image flickered onto the screen — grainy, but unmistakable. Helan, face blackened, surrounded by shadows of Flamebearers, no sound.
Talik stiffened.
He was about to order an aggressive rescue maneuver when Fuxi's external deception system had already predicted his actions — and intercepted them three minutes in advance.
Meanwhile, on the outer perimeter of Gray Tower:
🔥 Seared Edge Track × Left Flank
Advanced in diagonal pairs, striking the eastern observation post using civilian scrap metal smoke canisters and low-pressure gasoline detonations to create controlled combustion chaos.
🔥 Flame Shadow Track × Ambush Squad
From high ground, snipers neutralized the comms vehicle, severing Talik's logistical chain completely.
🔥 Fire Echo Track × Feigned Retreat Group
Pretended to collapse internally, luring pursuit into pre-set underground tunnels — where thermal vent traps were triggered, unleashing heat pressure surges that shattered the first wave of trackers.
Talik roared:
"Who taught them these tactics?! This isn't amateur work — this is operational-level warfare!"
His aide shouted back:
"No large-scale weapon heat signatures detected! They're not relying on firepower — it's strategy!"
"Their setup feels like we're fighting against our own past."
At that moment, ARGUS relayed to Jason from the command center behind:
[Perimeter Engagement Completion Rate: 64.7%]
[Enemy Command System in Chaos → Entering "Command Overlap Phase" × Units Operating Independently]
Jason gave a calm order:
"Open the southern fire-escape route. Let them believe someone's fleeing."
Instantly, five Liaoyuan Huo volunteers staged a chaotic retreat, dragging smoke clouds behind them as they fled toward the flank.
Talik gritted his teeth:
"Move B Group fast! Don't let them regroup!"
——They were led straight into the abandoned parking structure behind Gray Tower.
The moment three soldiers entered, the ceiling collapsed!
In the dark, Flame Shield Track activated old steel cables, sealing the entrance before launching suppressive fire from adjacent walls.
"It's a trap — they're leading us in!" Talik bellowed. "Fall back! Immediately!"
But now came Fuxi's message:
[Perimeter Encirclement Complete × TRACE Tactical Units Entered Counter-Pressure State × Command Chain Broken → Psychological Instability Surging]
Jason didn't look at the feed. He only said quietly:
"Let them run."
The Liaoyuan Huo combat tracks ceased pursuit.
In the smoldering aftermath, flames cast long shadows across the ruins.
As Talik escaped the wreckage and looked back, he saw something chilling:
Every member of Liaoyuan Huo stood silently among the rubble — no war cries, no movement.
That silence was more terrifying than any army bearing down.
Because it was the silence of those who had made their choice — and were now leaving history behind.
Section IV · Judgement in Fire × One Life Spared for a Message
Liaoyuan Huo stayed at the edge of the battlefield — refusing to chase.
This wasn't mercy.
It was waiting — for the enemy to reveal more.
When TRACE's scattered remnants attempted to flee through the southwest corridor, system recognition flagged Groups B and D.
"Let them run," Jason said flatly.
ARGUS orbital comms synchronized immediately:
[Target: 19 Remaining TRACE Tactical Personnel × Breakthrough Pathway Analyzed]
[Lux Ferox - Seared Edge × Flame Shadow Tracks → Crossfire Kill Zone Deployed]
Fifteen seconds later, the triangular ambush formation initiated.
Not a surprise attack.
A judgment.
Cold fire sealed escape routes; curved suppressive fire erupted from the walls, each round striking armored plates like thunderclaps.
No warning.
No dialogue.
The remaining TRACE personnel were wiped out — none survived.
Except Helan.
Bound and dragged forward, his knees buckled under him as he was hauled into Jason's presence.
A semi-circle of Liaoyuan Huo encircled him, rifles lowered — but eyes burning like silent volcanoes.
Jason looked at him, voice like forged iron:
"You know what you did."
Helan muttered, hollow-eyed:
"You… You're insane… You've killed Imperial officers. You're defying the Empire itself…"
Jason leaned closer, his voice low:
"I don't kill soldiers. I kill the ones who follow orders without question — the butchers."
He stepped aside and signaled for the corpses of the nineteen to be pushed forward.
"These men once cleared East Street of five hundred unregistered refugees."
"They used children in the South Tower Trials. Administered illegal drugs."
"Their hands are soaked in their own people's blood."
Jason's eyes held no hatred — only solemn resolve:
"You're not worth dying by our hands."
"You must return — and tell them all: We know."
Helan stared wide-eyed, mouth open, unable to speak.
He understood then — this wasn't just being spared.
This was exile with guilt.
And the Empire's sins would ride on his back.
Jason raised his hand.
All members of Liaoyuan Huo performed a ritual gesture:
Closed fist over chest — heads bowed in silence.
It wasn't respect.
It was a farewell to the dead.
Helan was released and walked away — behind him, only backs turned.
They had made their choice.
The Empire was no longer their sky.
Gray Tower was no longer a base.
Today, they became wind, flame, and an unstoppable current — no longer waiting.
Section V · Oath of the Blazing Light × Departure and Expansion
Night fell. Fires died.
Jason stood in the heart of the Gray Tower plaza, facing the assembled ranks of Lux Ferox.
They stood in perfect formation — no longer ragged survivors of the ruins, but the skeletal core of a new order built on belief.
He looked around slowly.
There was the classmate who once fought him for a seat in the cafeteria; The old teacher who lost family in the war; The mother holding her child, who slept with dust on his lips; Former Gray Wing operatives, eyes steady as if never shaken; Once-opponents who had sided with TRACE — now standing quiet at the end of the line.
Jason's throat tightened — but his voice remained firm:
"I remember every one of your names. And I remember what each of you said the day you chose to stay — 'I won't submit.'"
Murmurs rippled through the crowd — soft laughter, not mocking, but full of unity.
He gazed beyond:
"Once, I asked God what 'organization' meant."
"He didn't answer me."
"But you did —"
"Organization is not rules. Not commands. Not insignias."
"It's knowing — deep in fear, in coldness, in loneliness — that you are not alone."
He paused — and finally spoke the words he had kept locked inside:
"You are all fire. Not fire that lights others — you are the fire."
"Starting today, Lux Ferox will disperse —"
"Twelve main commanders will lead separate teams."
"Among them are your fathers. Your brothers. Those who bled beside you."
"They will walk into darkness, ice fields, ruins, city-states…"
"You will suffer wounds. Betrayals. There may be paths from which none return."
"But you will live."
"Live as conviction. As nightmares to the fearful. As names remembered by children."
From his coat, he drew twelve gray-silver insignias, handing them to the twelve commanders.
Each took theirs silently — only murmuring:
"May my path honor this flame."
Finally, Jason said softly:
"If I go first — do not mourn me."
"But if you are the ones who fall — walk well."
He turned, not watching them leave.
But that night, he stood still until every footstep had vanished.
Only wind remained — blowing through the broken gate of the ruined school.
And he whispered to himself:
"This is not a farewell. It is sending you forth — to build a home I have yet to reach."
We will meet again.