The base didn't sleep.
It only changed its rhythm.
After the east line held, the shouting thinned into a constant, low-level roar—orders being repeated, boots running, medics calling for clean cloth, civilians crying in exhausted hiccups. Floodlights turned the rain into needles. The air tasted like metal and damp fear.
Lan Huan moved them away from the fence before anyone could decide to thank them or blame them.
"Temporary rest point," He Chenyu reported as they walked. "Container C-7. It's empty. One entrance. Two vents. Easy to defend."
Lan Huan nodded. "Lead."
Luo Yan's legs felt like borrowed things. His Void Screen had cracked twice, and he could still feel the echo of it in his bones, like the world had scraped him clean and left him hollow.
Qin Yi walked with his head slightly bowed, two fingers pressed to his temple.
"You're okay?" Luo Yan asked quietly.
Qin Yi glanced at him. His eyes were a little unfocused. "Define okay."
Luo Yan didn't have an answer that wasn't cruel.
They reached C-7 and slipped inside. It was a shipping container cleared of cargo, smelling faintly of rust and old oil. Someone had thrown a tarp on the floor and called it a bed.
Lan Huan stood at the entrance like a lock. He Li moved to the corner nearest the vent and listened. He Chenyu set his duffel down and checked the door hinge like he expected someone to try to steal the container itself.
Lan Huan's gaze landed on Luo Yan. "Eat."
Luo Yan blinked. "We don't have—"
He Chenyu cleared his throat. "We do," he said, and reached into empty air.
A ration pack appeared in his hand. Then another. Then a bottle of water.
Luo Yan stared.
He Chenyu's expression was flat. "Don't look at me like that."
"I'm not," Luo Yan lied. "I'm just… grateful."
Qin Yi let out a faint, pained laugh. "He's going to pretend he's not impressed by everything because he's terrified."
Luo Yan's face warmed. "Shut up."
Lan Huan watched the exchange with an unreadable expression. Then he turned his gaze to He Chenyu.
"Your storage," Lan Huan said.
He Chenyu's shoulders tightened slightly. "Yes, sir."
"How much can you hold?" Lan Huan asked.
He Chenyu hesitated. "Enough to matter. Not enough to be careless."
Lan Huan nodded once, as if satisfied. "Good answer."
Luo Yan tore open a ration pack and chewed mechanically, forcing his stomach to accept it. The dry compressed food tasted like cardboard and salt. It was fuel, not food.
He swallowed and thought, viciously, I could do better.
That thought steadied him more than the calories did.
Lan Huan ate standing, eyes never leaving the container opening. When he drank water, it was measured, controlled, like he was rationing even his thirst.
After a few minutes, He Li spoke softly. "Sir. We need to move before the base changes its rules."
Lan Huan's gaze flicked to him. "Explain."
He Li's eyes narrowed slightly, that scout-focus sharpening. "Commander Zhao will stabilize by morning. When that happens, he'll start filing awakened into roles. Some will get locked into defense. Some into labor. Some into research. The ones with weird abilities will get controlled."
Qin Yi's lips curved faintly. "He means me."
He Li glanced at him without apology. "Yes."
He Chenyu added quietly, "And once the government side gets eyes on this base, they'll start pulling 'valuable assets' into special units."
Luo Yan's throat tightened.
Lan Huan's voice was cold. "They don't get to pull from me."
The words landed heavy in the small container, making Luo Yan's pulse jump.
Lan Huan looked at each of them in turn. "We recruit fast. We confirm core use fast. We register as a squad fast enough to have a name and a route."
He Li nodded. "Yes, sir."
Qin Yi's eyes half-lidded. "A name already? That's ambitious."
Lan Huan's gaze didn't waver. "Ambition is survival."
He turned to He Li. "Where's our next target?"
He Li's eyes sharpened. "Ice user," he said. "Female. Mid-twenties. I saw her earlier near the quarantine lane. She froze a patch of ground to stop a crowd surge. Controlled. Not panicking. She got shoved into 'ability evaluation' after."
Bai Ling.
Luo Yan didn't know her name yet, but he felt the shape of her in the team he'd started to imagine: someone who could build a wall when the world rushed in.
Lan Huan's voice was clipped. "We take her before Zhao assigns her."
Qin Yi pushed off the wall, wincing. "How do you 'take' someone without looking like a kidnapping?"
Lan Huan's gaze slid to him. "We offer a better contract."
Luo Yan swallowed. "Do we have a contract?"
Lan Huan's eyes flicked to Luo Yan, and for a moment the intensity of that attention made Luo Yan's skin prickle. "We have direction," Lan Huan said. "Most people don't."
He turned and opened the container door.
Cold rain air rushed in.
Outside, the base's noise surged back into their ears.
Lan Huan stepped out first. Luo Yan followed. Qin Yi, He Li, and He Chenyu fell in like they'd been doing it for years.
They moved through the lanes toward evaluation. The closer they got, the more the base felt like a bureaucracy trying to be born in the middle of a massacre. Signs had been slapped onto containers in marker: MEDICAL, QUARANTINE, ARMORY, ABILITY EVAL.
At ABILITY EVAL, two soldiers guarded the container door. Inside, voices rose and fell, sharp with fear.
Lan Huan approached without hesitation. "Open it."
One soldier stiffened. "Sir, evaluation is controlled by—"
Lan Huan's gaze turned icy. "Open it."
The soldier swallowed and opened the container.
Inside, a row of awakened stood against the wall, wet and exhausted. A man at a folding table barked questions: name, element, level, usefulness. He looked up and froze at Lan Huan's insignia, then hurriedly tried to stand straighter.
"General—sir—"
Lan Huan ignored him and scanned the room.
Luo Yan followed his gaze.
There.
A woman stood near the back, arms crossed, chin lifted. Her hair was tied back in a tight ponytail, soaked through, and her eyes were steady in a way that made Luo Yan feel calmer just looking at her.
The air around her was faintly colder. Not enough to fog the lights. Just enough to make the edges of her presence crisp.
Lan Huan walked straight to her.
"Ice," he said.
The woman's eyes narrowed. "Yes."
Lan Huan's voice was flat. "Name."
She hesitated. "Bai Ling."
The evaluator behind the table barked, "She's already logged—"
Lan Huan didn't look back. "I didn't ask you."
The evaluator shut his mouth.
Lan Huan looked at Bai Ling. "Do you want to spend the next week freezing fence lines until your hands go numb and your bones crack?"
Bai Ling's jaw tightened. "No."
Lan Huan nodded once, as if that was the only answer he needed. "Come with me."
Bai Ling stared at him for a long beat. "Why?"
Lan Huan's gaze didn't waver. "Because I'll keep you alive long enough to grow."
Bai Ling's eyes flicked to Luo Yan, to Qin Yi, to He Li and He Chenyu. She assessed the formation, the way they stood like they belonged to one person's gravity.
"You're forming a squad," she said.
"Yes," Lan Huan replied.
Bai Ling's mouth curved slightly, not quite a smile. "You're fast."
Lan Huan didn't deny it.
Bai Ling's gaze returned to Lan Huan. "What do you offer?"
Lan Huan's voice was simple. "A place. A plan. And cores."
The last word made the air in the room shift.
The evaluator's head snapped up. One of the awakened men in line leaned forward, eyes sharp with sudden interest.
Luo Yan felt his stomach drop.
He hadn't meant to spread it.
He hadn't said anything out loud.
But Lan Huan had just thrown the word cores into a room full of desperate people like it was a coin tossed into a crowd.
Qin Yi swore softly under his breath. "Sir…"
Lan Huan didn't look at him. His gaze stayed locked on Bai Ling.
Bai Ling's eyes narrowed. "Cores," she repeated, voice quiet. "You already have them."
Lan Huan's voice stayed calm. "Enough to start."
The awakened man in line took a step forward. "General," he said, voice too eager, "if you have cores—"
The evaluator barked, "Stay in line!"
The man ignored him, eyes on Lan Huan. "The base should pool them. For fairness."
Luo Yan felt cold crawl up his spine.
Fairness. The most dangerous word in a starving crowd.
Lan Huan's expression didn't change, but the air around him did. Pressure. Storm energy stirring like a warning.
He Li shifted slightly, positioning himself nearer the door.
He Chenyu's hand drifted to nothing, ready to pull something from storage.
Qin Yi's gaze sharpened, pain forgotten for a moment as instinct took over.
Bai Ling watched it all, unreadable.
The awakened man smiled, a little too wide. "Hand them over, General," he said softly, "and I'll help you keep order."
Luo Yan's heartbeat slammed.
Because the man's eyes were cloudy at the edges, not fully human-clear.
Not fully zombie either.
Something in between.
Evolved already?
On Day Zero?
The man took another step.
And behind him, three other awakened shifted, subtly aligning with him.
Lan Huan's voice was quiet. "Don't move closer."
The man smiled again. "Or what?"
Thunder rolled faintly above the container roof.
Luo Yan's mouth went dry.
He felt the Void in his chest stir, thin and sharp as a blade.
And he realized, too late, that "recruiting" wasn't just convincing Bai Ling.
It was surviving the moment everyone else realized what Lan Huan was offering.