He pointed in the direction of the “Terminal Station.”
Ah-Lan frowned as she looked over, also slightly taken aback.
In the apocalypse, it was extremely common for survivor outposts and factions of all sizes to hang signs or name their home bases.
“Bloodstained Mad Blade,” “Iron Fist Brotherhood,” “Scavenger’s Home”...
They came in all varieties.
“Terminal Station Shelter”? What was that?
Could it be another newly emerged faction?
“I see it. It’s just a sign with the lights turned on. What about it?”
“No, Sis,” Ah-Hao’s voice was very low, but every word was crystal clear.
“I saw it clearly just now. That wall was empty before. There was nothing there.”
Ah-Lan’s body stiffened slightly, and she snapped her head toward her brother.
Ah-Hao met her gaze and nodded heavily, his eyes filled with unprecedented seriousness and certainty. “Those words appeared out of thin air, like they grew out of the wall. And then they lit up with that glow.”
“Sis, this definitely isn't something humanly possible.”
He grabbed Ah-Lan’s hand. His eyes, somewhat watery from the high fever and pain, were filled with earnestness and lingering fear. “Sis, you were right to warn me before. I was wrong.”
“That building and that woman are too eerie!”
“You wouldn't be able to kill her at all! If you go, you might die...” He choked up for a moment, the terror in his eyes unmistakably real.
“I’ve thought it through,” Ah-Hao struggled to make his tone sound firm and sensible. “A safe shelter is important, but nothing is more important than your safety, Sis!”
“We can’t go provoking something we don't understand. Let’s forget it, Sis. We’ll find another way.”
Ah-Lan stared blankly at her brother, seeing the deep concern for her safety in his eyes and hearing him recount the incredible anomaly so logically. The desperate killing intent that had just flared up in her heart was instantly doused like a fire hit with a bucket of ice water, quickly cooling and subsiding.
Her brother’s discovery confirmed and reinforced her intuitive warning.
And Ah-Hao’s choice—to prioritize her safety even while in the throes of extreme desperation—acted like a solid anchor, steadying her nearly out-of-control heart.
“Ah-Hao,” her voice regained its usual calm.
Ah-Lan gently ruffled her brother’s withered, yellowish hair. “Don’t worry. I won’t do anything foolish or reckless.”
“As for a shelter... I will definitely have it arranged before the next Death Tide arrives.”
“I promise.”
Ah-Hao nodded obediently and rubbed his face against his sister’s shoulder, giving a low “mm” in response, appearing incredibly dependent and submissive.
“I believe you, Sis,” he said muffledly.
However, beneath his lowered eyelids, there was no sign of giving up in those overly bright eyes.
His sister couldn't take the risk, but he could.
If he succeeded, then the two of them would have a shelter capable of withstanding the Death Tide...
If he failed... and he died, his sister would have one less burden. In that case, it would be easier for her to survive on her own.
“Sis, there’s only one day left until the Death Tide arrives...”
“Our shelter...” Ah-Hao’s face was pale, and fine beads of cold sweat broke out on his forehead.
Ah-Lan, who was wiping her curved blade, paused her movements. She looked up at Ah-Hao, her tone as steady as possible:
“Don’t worry, I’ve already found a place. It’s deep inside an old air-raid shelter. The structure is mostly intact, and it’s deep enough.”
She set the blade down, leaned closer, and lowered her voice. “There are just a few cracks at the entrance that need to be sealed, and the ventilation ducts inside need to be handled...”
Ah-Hao reached out and gently pushed Ah-Lan’s arm. “Sis, then you should hurry and get to work. I’ll stay right here and wait for you to come back.”
Ah-Lan looked at her brother’s pale face and his eyes full of reliance, her heart a whirlwind of emotions.
She did indeed need time. Given the severity of her brother’s injury and the speed at which the environment was deteriorating, they couldn't afford to wait any longer.
“Ah-Hao,” she gripped her brother’s hand tightly, her gaze sharp as a knife.
“Promise me, do not go near that place. When I get back, we’ll move.”
“I know, Sis.” Ah-Hao nodded obediently, his eyes clear. “I promise to wait here for you. Go quickly, and make sure to make it sturdy!”
Ah-Lan glanced at her brother and placed the water and the small remaining amount of nutrition paste within his reach.
After checking the concealment of the hideout once more and confirming it was difficult to spot from several key angles, Ah-Lan finally stood and left.
“Wait for me.”
Only when his sister’s scent and the sound of her footsteps had completely vanished from his range of perception did the clarity in Ah-Hao’s eyes disappear.
Rate on N.U.
