Footsteps echoed beyond the perimeter of the ruined house— not the erratic shuffle of scavengers, not the twisted gait of mutants, but the steady rhythm of trained formation.
Lu Ye activated the Eye of the World instantly. Five figures moved with precision at the edge of the ruins, forming a tactical spread. Gray-blue combat suits. Standardized gear. Clean, efficient movements.
Zhao Yang murmured,
"Military."
Chen Mo stood, fists tightening slightly.
"They finally showed up."
Leading the group was a middle-aged man. His left eye was embedded with a sensory implant. His right hand bore a tactical command ring. He didn't offer a name. He simply stood at the threshold, voice calm and measured:
"We're not here to arrest you." "Nor to cooperate." "We're here to define your boundaries."
Among the military squad were two espers.
Lin Ce: Ability—Magnetic Domain Reconstruction. Capable of reshaping terrain magnetics to disrupt jumps and perception.
Gu Qinglan: Ability—Consciousness Folding. Can generate illusion layers to distort enemy judgment.
She stood slightly behind center, gaze steady, voice soft and deliberate:
"Your sensory systems… are remarkably clean."
Lin Lan subtly adjusted her feedback loop to resist interference. She didn't respond.
Gu Qinglan didn't press. She blinked once. A faint fold shimmered in the air—then vanished.
Zhao Yang quietly deployed a blood mist layer, encasing the house's perimeter. He Xuan's disc vibrated lightly. The magnetic disruptor entered standby mode.
The military didn't make a move. But their presence alone was pressure.
Lu Ye stood at the doorway, voice even:
"What do you want to know?"
The officer looked at him, eyes devoid of emotion.
"Your combat capabilities exceed several of our senior commanders." "We need to know… if you're still human."
No threats. No offers. Just a document— an "Observer Contact Protocol."
Its contents were vague. Clauses, convoluted.
Zhao Yang flipped through a few pages, scoffing:
"This isn't a protocol. It's a probe."
Chen Mo scanned the text, voice low:
"They don't trust us. They don't even trust themselves."
Lin Lan parsed the clauses. One section stood out:
"If the target squad makes contact with higher-dimensional entities, they must report immediately to Central Command. Refusal will be interpreted as departure from the human faction, triggering a cleansing directive."
He Xuan frowned.
"They're already preparing for a purge."
Lu Ye said nothing. He simply folded the document and tucked it away.
"We won't sign. But we won't reject it either."
The military squad didn't insist. They left behind a communication frequency—then departed.
As she turned to go, Gu Qinglan glanced at Lin Lan. Her voice was quiet:
"You're not the only variables."
After they left, the house returned to silence. But Lu Ye knew—this was only the beginning.
He opened the final page of the document. There was a seal— not the standard military insignia, but a unique symbol: three interlocking rings, centered around a fractured star core.
Lin Lan whispered,
"That's the mark of Central Command."
Zhao Yang looked at it, voice cold:
"Their leaders… aren't ordinary people."
He Xuan dug through archived files. That symbol had appeared in early documents tied to the Maker Initiative.
Chen Mo stood by the window, eyes on the horizon.
"We're not fighting mutants." "We're fighting… the system itself."
Lu Ye didn't speak. He simply burned the document.
In the firelight, the fractured star core slowly faded into ash.