Chapter 46: Man-Made Disasters (1)
“Your Majesty!”
A hoarse shout cut through the distant artillery fire, freezing Lin Lan mid-step as she crept along the wall’s shadow.
Exposed?
How…
The optical camouflage was one of the [Valkyrie]’s most advanced systems…
Even the latest thermal imaging could only catch a faint shimmer of distorted air…
Her heart tightened, the wrist blade on her armored gauntlet sliding out silently. She subtly tilted her head toward the voice’s source.
—An officer stumbled out of a guard post, scrambling toward her.
His face was smeared with soot and sweat, panting as he stopped a few meters away, saluting the seemingly empty shadow:
“Your Majesty! You’re finally back!”
“…”
Lin Lan quickly processed, suppressing the rising killing intent.
So that’s it.
They mistook her for Seraphina.
Of course.
Besides that woman, Eisenburg had no other [Valkyrie].
She wasn’t in the city…
“The west and south walls… the Church lunatics are going berserk! The general can’t hold much longer!” The officer’s voice cracked, his wrist communicator buzzing with static.
Lin Lan stayed silent, retracting her blade, maintaining her camouflage.
Mimicking Seraphina’s cold demeanor, she tilted her helmet slightly toward him.
The officer felt an inexplicable pressure but seemed relieved, as if finding a lifeline.
He pounded his chest: “Yes, sir! The general’s at command! I’ll report your—”
Before he finished, the blurred thermal outline flashed past, leaving only a faint ripple of air…
The officer froze, then straightened, saluting toward the [Valkyrie]’s path to the south wall before rushing back to the post.
Crisis averted.
Lin Lan didn’t linger, veering toward the queen’s palace—a repurposed old-world museum.
Her path was unobstructed, almost suspiciously smooth…
The south wall’s explosions and firelight drew the city’s attention, pinning most of Eisenburg’s forces there. Only a few patrol teams hurried past nearby.
The closer she got, the emptier her surroundings.
Using Murphyxia’s detailed defense map, she deftly avoided sealed routes, vaulting over the garden wall behind the palace.
She landed silently, greeted by withered vines and toppled statues, details she’d normally ignore…
But oddly, the seemingly barren garden was dotted with vibrant flowers and plants.
Her gaze swept over lush potted plants swaying in the dust stirred by her armor.
Around the scattered rubble, small patches of carefully tended soil bore thriving crops, gleaming with an out-of-place luster.
A vegetable garden?
Lin Lan froze.
Damn it…
“Wait for me… I’m coming…”
The thought of her name fueled her burning rage…
She plunged into the museum, moving through a dim corridor.
Oil paintings and sculptures along the walls twisted grotesquely under the emergency lights’ pale glow.
Finally, she stopped before a massive alloy door in the palace’s depths.
This was it.
—Intel confirmed this as the palace’s most fortified, secretive room.
The underground safehouse was already dealt with, so Mili had to be here…
No password…
No key…
She didn’t need them.
Lin Lan dropped her camouflage, the black armor’s menacing form emerging in the dim hallway.
Raising her right arm, fingers splayed like claws, she took a deep breath and drove her armored digits into the door’s seam…
Skree—
Crack—
The grating sound of twisting metal echoed, snapping apart…
No alarms triggered—Murphyxia’s insider had tampered with the systems.
“Don’t be scared…”
Lin Lan growled, overloading the power core. Her arm muscles bulged, the floor cracking beneath her as she tore the multi-ton door from its frame!
Boom!
The heavy slab crashed down, kicking up dust.
“Mili!”
She stepped inside, desperate to see the figure she’d longed for.
But the sight froze her blood…
The room was empty.
A luxurious bed in the corner was pristine, its sheets flawless, untouched.
The table, wardrobe, bookshelf…
Everything was meticulously arranged, cold and sterile.
The balcony opposite the door was sealed with bars, wire, and bulletproof glass.
She wasn’t here…
Not here…
A crushing emptiness gripped her, choking her breath.
Lin Lan scanned the room, stumbling forward, searching for any trace of the girl, until an odd “texture” on the wall caught her eye.
Not wallpaper…
Her tactical visor struggled to parse the surface, glitching with errors—
It was a mosaic of countless tiny squares, a chilling mass of living things…
Closer, she saw clearly.
—Each square was a photograph.
Densely packed, covering the wall, all of…
Mili.
“…”
Her breathing faltered inside the armor.
Words failed to capture what she saw…
This wasn’t mere surveillance.
The gaze was a festering parasite…
From above…
Under the bed…
Through keyholes…
In mirrors…
Behind her.
Angles so perverse they defied reason…
Some were taken inches from her face, yet showed no reflection of the photographer, as if they didn’t exist in this world…
Each image dripped with a stalker’s sinister obsession…
Those hidden eyes, in ways she couldn’t fathom, became an invisible mold, infiltrating everything…
Mili chewing food, pursing her lips in thought, the vacant stare of her daydreams…
Every detail was captured, magnified, cropped, categorized…
Mounted into this horrifying gallery.
The photos chronicled her transformation.
From tattered refugee rags to the ornate Saintess robe…
Lin Lan’s armored fingers trembled, yanking down a photo—Mili’s profile on steps, gazing at the horizon, her blue eyes reflecting a somber dusk…
Scrawled on the photo’s border in delicate script…
[Missing home?]
But “home” was clawed to shreds, deep gouges nearly tearing through, replaced by a jagged new word in the same neat hand—
“Me.”
Compelled, she tore down another.
Shot from directly above, Mili lay on the bed, hair splayed like ink…
[What did you dream of?]
Another, from the bottom of a glass, capturing her parted lips and swallowing throat…
[Why smile at others?]
Another, her pupil reflecting her own panicked face, only hers…
[Why are you afraid of me?]
Like a trance, she ripped down more, piling them in her hands:
[Who’re you thinking of?]
[Don’t you like it…]
[No, you like it.]
[Don’t leave.]
[Don’t smile.]
[Don’t cry.]
The ink grew vivid, blood-red, soaking the paper…
[Look at me.]
[Love me?]
[Mine.]
[Mine.]
[Mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine…]
The writing turned frantic, scrawled chaos…
Smeared over every inch of Mili’s image, sparing only her blue eyes…
[Answer]
[Me]
Staring at the scattered photos, Lin Lan snapped back, a choked sound escaping her throat—half-laugh, half-sob.
She understood why the palace had no cameras…
They weren’t needed.
Those eyes were everywhere.
This wasn’t a prison…
It was a temple…
A shrine.