NOVPUB“No wonder Tang Hai could run rampant in the fog and darkness for so long. The monsters wouldn’t even harm him…” Lin Xian muttered, finally piecing it together. It made sense now—Tang Hai’s injury must have released enough blood to attract the zombies, causing him to be attacked. Yet, ironically, this led to his evolution.
Thinking about it, Lin Xian felt a pang of regret. He should have just ended Tang Hai on the spot. Now, a potential threat had been left behind.
Still, he felt grateful for having repaired the CIWS in time—it had been the correct choice for survival. With Kiki unconscious at the time, Lin Xian alone couldn’t have dealt with the Fog Spider, Feng Yuming, and the overwhelming zombie tide all at once. Luckily, Tang Hai and Feng Yuming hadn’t dismantled any critical parts of the CIWS system, or tonight could have spelled certain doom.
Returning to the conversation, Lin Xian turned to Kiki. “So, do you know how your own Ability evolves?”
Kiki gave a faint smile and shook her head. “I have a rough idea. I might belong to the Mental or Psychic category—rare types, according to the data. But I have no idea how to evolve, let alone complete any ‘ritual.’”
Then her gaze turned to Lin Xian, her expression curious. “As for you… honestly, I don’t know which type you fall under. You can control machines, so you likely belong to the Functional category. While this type’s Soul Wave Value may not always be high, the Angel Project classified it as having ‘immense strategic value.’ It seems similar to Type-27: Inorganic Manipulation, but how can you also use elemental Abilities?” 𝓃𝓸𝓋𝓹𝓾𝓫.𝒸ℴ𝓶
Her brows furrowed as she studied him. “Could it be that you have more than one Ability?”
“You tell me…” Lin Xian replied impassively, though an unease stirred within him. A nagging thought crossed his mind: What if this isn’t an Ability at all?
After all, what kind of Ability came with progress bars and level indicators?
“There’s another thing,” Kiki added. “It’s rare, but some Ability Users have reportedly lost their Abilities entirely. This includes even those at the Adamant Level.”
“Lost completely? What do you mean?” Lin Xian asked.
“How would I know?” Kiki retorted. “The reports didn’t explain. They only mentioned that these cases happened without any external interference. The researchers speculated it might be related to mental or emotional states, but they couldn’t pinpoint the cause.”
Kiki’s revelations gave Lin Xian a paradigm-shifting perspective on the world. Despite the collapse of civilization just months ago, Ability Users had already become a significant population, fundamentally influencing humanity’s survival trajectory.
Exhausted from the night’s ordeals, Lin Xian ordered the train to maintain a cautious speed of 50 km/h. Chen Sixuan took the helm in the driver’s cabin while Lin Xian stayed nearby, resting briefly.
“Kiki seems to have many secrets,” Chen Sixuan remarked, glancing at Lin Xian as he rested.
“Everyone has secrets. As long as hers are helpful to us, there’s no need to dig too deep,” Lin Xian replied, his eyes still closed.
“What did she… just say to you?” Chen Sixuan hesitated, her curiosity getting the better of her despite herself.
Lin Xian chuckled lightly. “What else? She made me promise not to kiss her without her consent.”
Chen Sixuan’s expression turned complex. “Oh… I see.”
A mix of emotions stirred within her. She didn’t know where she stood with Lin Xian—whether she’d been willing or unwilling in their earlier encounters. She only knew she was grateful he had saved her. At this point, Lin Xian was her sole pillar of support.
He wasn’t bad either—his personality even aligned with her preferences. She didn’t seem to mind what had happened between them. Was this what they called the suspension bridge effect?
What am I even thinking… she scolded herself inwardly.
“Yesterday’s sunrise was at 16:26. We advanced about 50 kilometers toward Beiwang Station. To reach our destination by 16:00 tomorrow, we’ll need to cover at least 370 kilometers,” Chen Sixuan calculated aloud, flipping through the logbook. “But the JY3365 section detours through Quguan and Yuchi. Factoring in the location of Abyss Zone No. 3, Lucheng, and Dingzhou, in comparison to our direct route from Jiang City…”
“Chen Jie,” Lin Xian interrupted, his eyes still closed. “Do you think Abyss Zone No. 3 could not be the source of the Dark Tide?”
Her calculations halted abruptly, and silence filled the cabin.
“I… don’t know,” Chen Sixuan finally admitted.
From a geometric perspective, if every Abyss is generating a Dark Tide and expanding at the same speed on Blue Star, it means their radii grow linearly over time.
“If the range of an Abyss’s influence is fixed, there might still be some narrow angles of survival space left for humanity. But if the first Polar Night isn’t the end and the range of the second tide continues to expand, then it’s only a matter of time before the Polar Night covers the entire planet.”
After the Polar Night, with the collapse of networks and communication, ordinary people like them had no way of knowing what was happening across the world. They could only piece together clues from radio broadcasts.
Without Kiki, they wouldn’t have even known that the Federal Government had classified Ability Users into categories and developed a standard system.
Lin Xian nodded, a trace of unease on his face. If this were true, it meant there was nowhere left to run. Humanity’s only option was to learn how to survive in the darkness.
Chen Sixuan noticed Lin Xian’s worried expression and suddenly said, “Lin, do you remember Jiang University’s motto?”
Lin Xian looked at her, and the two spoke in unison:
“Striving is an unceasing act since the dawn of humanity!”
After a long pause, they exchanged smiles.
As the train wheels turned, everyone aboard was fleeing the darkness, heading toward the dawn. Even if they were to ultimately succumb to the night, they would hold onto the last spark of survival and never stop resisting.
Lin Xian felt a measure of calm. If he could grow stronger, even in an environment where the night seemed endless, survival would still be possible. This conviction further solidified his resolve to build the ultimate fortress—a train that could weather any storm.
Hoooot!
The fog ahead began to thin, and the headlights illuminated a broader field of view. Lin Xian rose, his gaze softening as he observed the distant silhouette of the mountains and fields. Gradually, he brought the train to a halt in a tunnel.
“Why are we stopping?” Chen Sixuan asked, puzzled.
Turning around, she was caught off guard as Lin Xian swept her up in a princess carry, a playful grin on his face as he proclaimed, “Chen Jie, there’s one more thing humanity has done ‘unceasingly’ since the dawn of time.”
“……”
Caught off guard, Chen Sixuan’s face flushed crimson. She nervously averted her eyes as her fair neck and earlobes turned a vibrant pink, as beautiful as spring peach blossoms.
“Aren’t you tired?”
Lin Xian carried her to the bed in the first carriage, his energy renewed. “Suddenly, I feel full of vigor.”
With the carriage doors sealed, the first carriage had become Lin Xian’s private living quarters.
Chen Sixuan’s face burned red as she murmured softly, “Um… that…”
“Not convenient?”
“No… it’s not that…”
Her smooth, jade-like skin was irresistible. Even amidst the apocalypse, Lin Xian could still catch the faint, alluring fragrance unique to her—a subtle yet intoxicating scent that made one’s heart race.
As his breath brushed against her skin, Chen Sixuan felt a shiver run down her spine, his cool breath seeping into her pores and sending waves of tingling sensations coursing through her.
Blushing deeply, she pulled the blanket over her face and whispered, “Could you… grab my bag? It has… that.”
“Got it.”
“Mm… ah… a bit gentler… mm…”
The heavy train rested silently in the dark tunnel, its armored shell shielding it from the terrifying abyss outside. Within, the warm yellow light cast a cozy glow over the plush bedding, providing a sense of safety and comfort.
The two intertwined, breaking the barriers between their souls and bodies. One figure was tall and lean, the other graceful and supple. Their movements ebbed and flowed, like a racing war machine or a mighty ship breaking through the waves...
The night deepened. In Car 2, Luo Shasha was sound asleep on the top bunk, while Kiki, lying below with her head buried under a pillow, blushed furiously. The strange rhythmic sounds from the next carriage were impossible to ignore.
Gritting her teeth, she muttered curses under her breath, mentally drawing circles to curse a certain someone.
Tomorrow, she resolved, she’d install soundproofing panels in Car 2—and weld on an extra layer of steel for good measure!
