Lian Hua sat in the back of the military vehicle, the rhythmic hum of its engine a strange but welcome balm to her frayed nerves. The faint scent of oil and steel hung in the air, mingling with the muted glow of the setting sun filtering through the reinforced windows. She leaned her head back, her thoughts spinning like the wheels beneath them.
In front of her, Feng Lei—Jun-Hyuk, though she didn’t know him by that name—was sprawled out, fast asleep. His head tilted slightly to one side, arms crossed loosely over his chest, he looked completely at ease, as though they weren’t riding away from the aftermath of a battle that would go down in history. His steady breathing, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, almost made it seem like they were on an ordinary drive through the countryside—not fleeing from the site of a level seven sphere’s defeat, a feat never accomplished before.
She was still struggling to process how he’d done it. Feng Lei had always been a skilled fighter—she’d known that much. But this? This was something else entirely. Just a few days ago, he’d been overpowered by a level four sphere creature, barely surviving the encounter. And now, here he was, defeating a level seven like it was the most natural thing in the world. It didn’t add up.
But it wasn’t just his newfound strength that unsettled her. There was something different about him, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. The Feng Lei she remembered was cocky and brimming with unshakable confidence, a fighter who carried himself like he was invincible. Back then, he barely even acknowledged her existence, let alone treated her as an equal.
Now, though… now he seemed almost humble. Thoughtful, even. She caught herself glancing at him as he slept, his peaceful expression a stark contrast to the man she’d once known. Maybe it was the amnesia, erasing the layers of bravado he used to wear like armor. Or maybe it was something deeper, something the battles and near-death experiences had unearthed in him.
Whatever the reason, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Feng Lei didn’t just see her anymore—he respected her. He treated her like a comrade, maybe even a friend. The thought was as comforting as it was unnerving, leaving her to wonder just how much more he would change—and whether she would still recognize him when it was all over.
If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
“He sure does like falling asleep after fights,” Zhao Ruyi muttered from her seat beside Lian Hua, her voice tinged with mild amusement. Her glowing blue gun, a marvel of futuristic weaponry, rested casually across her lap. The faint, eerie glow it emitted bathed her fingers in an otherworldly light, making the weapon look more alive than it should.
Lian Hua tried not to stare at it for too long. That thing always gave her the creeps—a weapon capable of mass destruction, all with the press of a single button. The thought sent a chill crawling up her spine. It was too clean, too absolute. There was no nuance, no room for mercy. That’s why she preferred swords. Swords had intention. With a blade, you could choose whether to wound, to warn, or to kill. It was a tool of precision, of human judgment, not the cold, detached obliteration that the military's weapons represented.
Lian Hua caught the sharp turn of Zhao Ruyi’s head as she looked her way, her expression sly. “Now that the threat is over, the martial families will have to deal with us—the military,” Ruyi said, her voice laced with a cool confidence. A smirk danced at the corners of her lips.
Lian Hua blinked, her brow furrowing. “Really? You’re still planning to overthrow the rule of the five martial families?”
“Not me,” Ruyi replied with a nonchalant shrug. “That’s Commander Tian Zhenyu’s mission. But don’t get it twisted—all of us in the military stand firmly behind him.”
Lian Hua felt her throat go dry, and she licked her lips in a futile attempt to ease the growing tension swirling inside her. The five martial families weren’t just going to relinquish their hold on power. Not willingly. The only way the military could take control of the city dome was through force, and that meant one thing: war. A bloody, devastating war that would leave no one truly victorious—only ruins, bodies, and grief.
Her thoughts flickered to the battle they had just survived, to the monstrous level seven sphere. At a time when unity was more vital than ever, the city was teetering on the edge of civil collapse.
“What about the possibility of an arrangement, like Feng Lei suggested?” Lian Hua asked, her voice tinged with both hope and desperation.
Ruyi chuckled, the sound dark and humorless. “That’s not up to me, and even if it were, it’s already too late for that. The moment we left, the military had already set their first plan into motion.”
A prickle of dread crept up Lian Hua’s spine. Her gaze shifted out the window, her heart hammering against her ribs. In the distance, the sprawling outline of the city dome loomed against the darkening horizon. But what caught her attention—and turned her blood cold—was the thick column of black smoke rising from somewhere within its walls.
Her stomach twisted as realization dawned, heavy and unforgiving.
War had already begun.
