Moon Theory (ABO)Ch82 - signal, draw a line

Flames burst in front. In a matter of seconds, the vicinity is engulfed in fiery red orange. Where the grenade lands, tens of creatures are ruptured apart. Their remains are trailed messily on the dirt ground, skidding dozens of meters away from the pin of impact.

Unfortunate that the supply station, a measly ten-meter block of aluminum, is caught in crossfire. A decapitated goat’s horn slams against the outer wall. A body of some no-longer-identifiable creature is thrown across the distance. Carcasses are lobbed like pellets against reinforced metal. Minutes later, the station is shaped with odd inward dents. l3K dw

When the smoke subsides enough, Yang Rong emerges from behind a pile of toppled debris. His cheeks are covered in soot and his body is worse for wear. The casual shirt he dons is nearly tattered across the seams, and by mid-torso is an ugly streak of dark red. Two nights on the run and already, Yang Rong is crippled from exhaustion. Very unusual for his alpha physique to be this frail (by his standards, at least), though he does presume that the past days have been entirely detrimental.

His arm injury – a gunshot wound that really shouldn’t be ignored, no matter how reliant he is on his natural healing capabilities – is worsening per every lift of his rifle. Dark green eyes trail over his surroundings, pinpointing some creatures that remain alive despite the large explosion. With quick presses of the trigger, Yang Rong snipes three to the left, two to the right – frighteningly accurate despite the low visibility.

Story translated by Chrysanthemum Garden.

He is (was) a colonel after all, and none of his achievements have been for show. Prodigious since young (purposefully trained since young), more than a decade and a half on the field, and of course he’d have uncanny battle senses. If not for his current laggardness, there is little doubt he’d clean up even quicker. The last anomaly, some elongated rattlesnake, is blasted into smithereens.

Yang Rong inspects the vicinity again with a frown. The surrounding is a wasteland with nothing of note sans deconstructed buildings – air force bases, back when those were still in operation decades earlier. Now, hundreds of miles away from civilization (specifically, from the remaining human population), the entire diameter is a closed-off pile of dirt. There should be little humans and anomalies here, let alone should there be an outbreak of this scale, unless… R5zToU

His suspicions intensify when he approaches closer to the supply station. He hardly had time to inspect the loot crates on the ground during battle. Now, as he identifies the busted military crates and storage boxes with deceased organisms, he forms a certain hypothesis – an unexpected problem during resupply. The transported anomalies may have broken out of confines.

The hypothesis holds correct when Yang Rong rounds to the other side of the station.

Lying on the ground, a few inches away from the door, are the bodies of several soldiers. Relatively fresh, Yang Rong concludes as he inspects their corpses – early stages of decomposition, apneumones attracting all sorts of flies and arthropods. Already, there are eggs lain on their exposed wounds, globs of slimy fluids mixed in red. The blood has oozed until only recently, thickened and pooled underneath.

When Yang Rong bends down to prod at the body with his bare hands, he can’t help but conjure an image of a certain young man’s face of disgust – Noah, so deathly afraid of insects, would certainly have a field day seeing such a corpse. His lips curve up as he dismantles the soldier’s equipment, carefully removing a fastened pouch without disturbing the oviposition. Some seconds of rummaging later, he procures a dusty copper key.

A welcomed coincidence that there’d be soldiers assigned here, else Yang Rong would see to breaking down the lock. He, a colonel (an ex-colonel, his mind quips unhelpfully), stooped to breaking-and-entering a military-protected facility – the thought is almost preposterous. He unlocks the deadbolt, pushes aside layers of accumulated dust and opens the door.

The metal door emits a loud croak and immediately, Yang Rong is hit with a foul-smelling mix of dust and dirt. Insect droppings, dander, wooden flakes – not pleasant in the slightest, but Yang Rong is used to the lack of ventilation in these small depots. He’d been cooped inside too many of them to count, had to live in one for weeks, even, as he awaited reinforcement. In actuality, poor living conditions are extremely common in the slums. Most dwellers hardly care for something as trivial as ventilation.

With the exception of probably Noah, Yang Rong’s mind supplies, because the young man is both high-maintenance and spoiled. To be living in such a lavish shelter for years, of course he’d have acquired tastes that Yang Rong cannot fathom whatsoever.

Vaguely, Yang Rong wonders if Noah would enjoy living in the city at all. Perhaps inside a two-story home, one of those upscale accommodations in the inner city… Definitely not in one of those shabby makeshift homes that may as well be overpacked tents… And speaking of accommodations, Yang Rong himself has a rather decent place constructed far away from hustle and bustle, in one of those unexplored and very obscure corners past the outer district… Gwq1RU

Yang Rong shakes away his thoughts.

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“Don’t be distracted, alright?” he chastises himself as he makes his way inside the repository, stopping in front of an array of rifles and shotguns. He filters them individually at a glance – too unnecessarily weighty, insufficient firepower, slow reload, heavy recoil, acceptable but too bulky… His expert appraisal takes all but several seconds as he continues to speak to thin air. “Yang Rong, you’ve really fallen pathetically. Miscellaneous thoughts aside, your time could be used to more efficiently devise an action plan. How to reach destination, for example. The shortest paths with the least dangerous terrains. The amount of fuel needed. As for weaponry…”

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He blinks himself back to awareness.

Yang Rong immediately swoops and grabs all the firearms without a single word. Decisions be damned – if Yang Rong had to think more about which is suitable, his thoughts would certainly be led astray. With a light tinge of pink on his ears, the handsome, about-190-centimeters-tall young man turns around and decidedly grabs everything he sees within sight. Various grenades, dynamites, experimental models of gas bombs, all sorts of ammo cartridges and everything is stuffed into his duffle. At the very least, he does match ammo with gun.

“I’ve gone insane,” Yang Rong mutters as he finally leaves the armory. He’s equipped with way more firearms than he’d sought, two of them slung over his right shoulder and another on his left. His backpack is filled with enough explosives to blow up the outer city and carried with his left hand is a twelve-gallon fuel tank. “Perhaps an appointment with Shi Luo is in order – something about reconnecting my brain circuits, was it? I wouldn’t be opposed, though I reckon the solution wouldn’t be so scientifically simple…”

Nighttime robbery concluded, Yang Rong distracts himself by senselessly talking. On the way out, he nearly trips over a dead soldier’s body. F9YqcM

“Yang Rong, it’d be a miracle if he didn’t rip you apart. If Noah finds you stole three kisses… fuck, it was only three,” he says as he treks across dirt and pebble stone. “You should’ve taken the chance to steal a few more—he took advantage of you after all, so it is only natural to recompensate, alright? It isn’t justification. It’s the law of retaliation. Considering the number of times, the little kitten, little fox, had kissed you without consent—verbal consent, though in hindsight, you also weren’t exactly opposed—”

He stops mid-ramble.

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A strong gust rolls along several pebbles, rattling incessantly across the road. Yang Rong stops all movements and turns his gaze sideways. The night is eerily silent. No other sounds but the low clanging of stones against a toppled fence, the few whirls of wind followed by a slight clink of metal – and then Yang Rong immediately pivots backward, grabs the lightweight pistol on his holster and shoots. He presses the trigger with zero wasted movements, his eyes narrowing at whichever unseen threat hiding behind toppled construction.

His visage turns completely stoic and cold – a full one-eighty from his previous bumbling self. Yang Rong is trained to listen to any irregularities on the battlefield. Even the slightest shift in frequency would be identified by his keen ears – on a normal basis, that is, but his current state is rather pathetic to see. zAed95

Yang Rong uncaringly aims another shot. The flimsy barricade of rubble breaks apart and he narrows his eyes.

A group of soldiers has come with zero good intentions. Five of them – what a miscalculation for Yang Rong to overlook their presence. The soldiers are still holding onto their rifles as they step forward. The one in charge, some nameless man Yang Rong has no interest in befriending, holds one hand out in gesture.

“Please cease fire, Colonel Yang,” he says, his voice slightly muffled from his mask. “We’ve only come on orders to assist and to retrieve you.”

Yang Rong doesn’t withdraw his weapon. “Orders?” uFNn8h

The man answers, “The Nexus has sent out several alerts to determine your whereabouts. If you would follow our unit to base, all allegations against your name will be dropped. Furthermore, we will escort you to the inner city, where you will be held temporarily for a screening. It is the information we’ve been given, Colonel Yang. We do not know anything more.”

Typical for a military soldier – nearly every single one of them sounds the same. Perhaps the training courses they’d undergone have transformed them all into a mindless, uniform blob. Zero personality, one hundred percent mass-manufactured workers.

Yang Rong briefly wonders when he’d started scorning them. “Your assistance is unneeded, Private.”

“My rank is that of sergeant—” gl7ovm

“Sergeant,” he cuts coldly. “Very insistent on titles, but your credentials are lacking. Is that an order you are giving me?”

Harrowing green eyes flick over the man’s face, filtering all else as backdrop. There is not an ounce of friendliness – only utter hostility and impatience. Yang Rong holds an aura of absolute dominance, never mind that he is fatigued and dressed in a threadbare shirt. In fact, the bloodstains on it only serve to make him look more frightening. By tenfold.

The man falters. “…It isn’t, Colonel Yang.”

Yang Rong taps his rifle. It’s a threat, and one he matches with a dark tone. “You are free to leave.” TtKqFM

“…With all due respect, Colonel Yang, I would like to ask about your reasons for…” The sergeant is clearly intimidated, but he still presses on. “For your actions. You are very well respected in the field and there is little reason to deny a genetic screening. There will be no harm done to you, and if the mutation really is inert in your body, the findings will serve as hope for humankind.”

“The weight of humankind is too cumbersome for me to handle,” Yang Rong replies. “My hands are full already.”

“There have been many cases of military deserters,” the man says slowly, hesitantly. “For you to be one of them—excuse my rudeness, Colonel Yang, but I’ve looked up to your every achievement. For a role model to suddenly… Colonel Yang, you may not remember, but I’ve joined on an expedition with you once. Four years ago, the Equatorial Dropship, an operation headed by you and joined by the late Sergeant Hannes. I should have been among the five hundred who died but it is pure luck that you were there. The memory is still vivid in my mind.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Yang Rong says, still staring at the man as though he were a waste of space. “Stories of my grandeur run afar. Perhaps I may have saved you out of sheer coincidence, but I hold zero regards to your wellbeing.” P3f4pW

“What I mean is that I was struck amazed by your judgment,” the sergeant says. He’s starting to walk forward now and even with the bottom of his face covered by a mask, his eyes are lightening in fervor. “You weighted your decisions in the most sensible way. When choosing between saving one person or five, you’d choose the latter. When between a squad sergeant and a rookie soldier, it would be the former. Colonel Yang, you were the type to sacrifice the trivial for the consequential. Your way of thinking, I fully adapted and taught to my soldiers as well. It is only those like you who will make a difference for humankind. We are on the last threads of hope, Colonel, and salvation will come through—”

“Finished?” Yang Rong asks coldly. He stares at the man in front and quirks one telling eyebrow – scram. “Five seconds before I load you full of bullets. My patience runs thin.”

Story translated by Chrysanthemum Garden.

Before the man could respond, his remote transceiver sizzles to life.

“Unit 280, do you copy?” comes a voice too robotic to be human. The Command operators are just as soulless as are the soldiers. “I repeat, Unit 280, do you copy?” QwS gb

Before the sergeant could respond again, Yang Rong holds out a hand, his implications clear. “Give it to me.”

The man hesitates but does as he says. So it seems Yang Rong still holds such influence over these military lackeys, despite the fact that he’d abandoned duty. He takes the transceiver, presses on the speaker mode and clears his throat.

“Unit 280 speaking on behalf of Yang Rong – ex-commander of Unit One,” he says. “The contents are as follows: calendar year 2064, the first month, the twenty-second day, an official statement of resignation. The last words, in verbatim: ‘I am getting old and I simply have no energy. The radiation has hit a nerve in my brain, and I am unable to think clearly for more than a minute at a time. Work injuries have led to testosterone imbalances. My time is served and my life is sapped, so I’d prefer to spend the rest of my time in a retirement home.’”

Pindrop silence in the pitch-dark night. KRc7 M

Moonlight is casted onto his hair. Obsidian black locks are lightened just a little, as are his eyes that seem to glow a shade of hazel-green. The words he uttered can be construed rather whimsically, but his expression is wholly, irrevocably serious. Complication fades into resignation, settling squarely on coldhearted conviction. He throws the transceiver back toward the sergeant.

“Do not look for me.” Yang Rong gives a look that screams volumes. “I am no longer involved.”

“Colonel Yang Rong,” replies the monotonous signaller, the female voice not stuttering despite the terrible connection. “Your involvement is tied to a wanted human-hybrid, temporary code XX-001. Speculations hold that your infection is related to the specie. You are obligated to report to the Nexus. Command has organized for a nationwide procurement. Should you resist, Command will see to using decisive measures.”

Yang Rong points his rifle upward and presses the trigger. A deafening bang rips through the empty wasteland, startling the group of soldiers into action. They hastily aim their own guns at him, though none of them are bold enough to shoot. x iZmQ

“Keep your distance.” The gunshot is deafening, but Yang Rong’s voice is even more harrowing. “I am also not opposed to using more decisive measures as well.”

“Your response has been recorded,” the signaller says. “Your decision will be considered in the city summit meeting.”

There isn’t turning back now.

So Yang Rong leaves, turning a deaf ear to the calls of the men behind him. Perhaps out of a marginal of respect, the unnamed sergeant doesn’t fire at him. Yang Rong treks onward with only the stars to guide – no aurora lights or anything romantic here, however. It is simply darkness that he weaves through and belatedly, he muses if Noah had seen the same all his life. dT78Zl

Nothing but wasteland, piles of dirt and debris, dark skies and a population of zero.