An Unexpected Embrace

Within the mere span of a breath, Ming Yu regained control of her arm. Yet, the soft sensation that had been nestled in her palm had already slipped away, leaving only a lingering phantom touch.

After executing this vexing and defiant prank, Vera let out a sharp huff within Ming Yu’s mind. She then receded deep into the recesses of the consciousness space, stubbornly refusing to respond to Ming Yu’s words further. Currently, Vera lacked the power to fully dominate this body, nor could she expend her psionic energy without a means of immediate replenishment. She had completely squandered what little she possessed on that singular moment of mischief, leaving not a single drop remaining in her reserves. Without the capital to act so recklessly, she was left with no choice but to descend into a brooding silence.

Once Ming Yu confirmed that Vera had seemingly returned to a state of dormant normalcy, she secretly let out a breath of relief. Only then did she finally turn her full attention to Ye Qing, who was still resting against her lap, bathed in the pale sunlight filtering through the transport’s reinforcement glass.

Through the two rounds of tumultuous jolts and metal-rending impacts, Ye Qing’s officer’s hat had been flung away to some unknown location. Her long black hair, previously coiled with military precision at the back of her head, had come entirely undone; it now cascaded freely down her shoulders and across Ming Yu’s legs like a silken curtain. Considering Ye Qing’s current dazed expression and her vacant, wide-eyed stare, Ming Yu wondered if she had perhaps been a little too forward—or even offensive—just now.

“Are you… alright?” Ming Yu asked softly.

As the memory of the recent, awkward proximity flashed through her mind, the blush that had just begun to fade from Ming Yu’s face reappeared with a vengeance. She felt an inexplicable pang of guilt stirring in her chest.

Upon hearing Ming Yu’s voice, Ye Qing, who had been in a prolonged state of shock, slowly began to come back to herself. She shook her head gently, her long eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks, and the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest became noticeably more pronounced as her breathing stabilized.

“I’m fine, thank you…” Ye Qing whispered, her voice still a bit strained.

Ye Qing was among the fortunate; she had not sustained any physical injuries during the sudden, violent turbulence of the drop. However, many of the unarmored clerical and logistical soldiers around them had not fared as well. They cried out in terror as the jolt sent them tumbling. Their frail bodies, unprotected by the heavy alloy of power armor, had taken the full brunt of the metallic collisions, nearly knocking the wind out of them or leaving them with painful bruises.

After the initial, bone-jarring acceleration phase of the atmospheric entry ended, the environment inside the cabin gradually stabilized. Soldiers who were unharmed began to push themselves up from the floor, immediately moving to tend to their groaning, injured comrades. Even if they were not well-acquainted, the shared experience of narrowly escaping the jaws of death on the highlands had forged a deep, unspoken camaraderie that bound them all together.

As the supreme leader of the Human Federation, the Grand Marshal, once proclaimed: while the power of an individual is frail and minuscule, the Federation’s might stems from its collective. The combined strength of the collective can turn the tide of fate and even overturn the stars. This ideology of collective heroism had always been a core principle ingrained within the Federation’s military doctrine.

The transport plane’s interior was vast, designed to easily accommodate over a hundred marines and their gear. Once the turbulence fully subsided and the vessel leveled out, the pilot’s deep, gravelly voice echoed through the internal speakers.

“Fellow comrades, I am pleased to see you all alive. On behalf of the battleship command, I extend our sincerest condolences for your losses,” the voice stated.

“I know you have just escaped a living hell, but the current battle situation across the planet is critical. Defending our remaining cities is an urgent matter of survival, and we need you to once again offer your hearts for the Federation.”

The voice grew grimmer.

“Not long ago, countless Thorin Primordial Worms emerged from underground, hidden valleys, and the depths of dense forests. The swarms have begun a massive, coordinated invasion of Planet Walker’s human colonial zones. Two nascent human cities have already fallen, transformed into nests for the alien insects. Command has ordered that the supply station garrison and the Third Company be temporarily integrated. Proceed immediately to the riverside city of Nak to defend against the primary alien insect attack. You must hold out until the Fourth Legion’s reinforcements arrive from orbit.”

The low voice ceased briefly, and a chilling, heavy silence permeated the cabin. After a long moment, the soft clanking of power armor being serviced and checked began to rustle, echoing through the hollow space. Ming Yu glanced around. Everyone was silent, lost in their own thoughts. When she looked back, she found Ye Qing shyly pressing closer to her, as if seeking warmth.

Having just suffered a crushing defeat and a hasty retreat, the morale of these surviving forces was visibly low. Nevertheless, military orders were absolute. In this world, if they did not kill the enemy, the enemy would invade their homes and slaughter everything they cherished. Between humanity and the alien insects, there was no room for negotiation—only a fight to the death.

Ming Yu couldn’t fathom the precise political or strategic details of this “Federation,” but she knew her objective: reach a human settlement, integrate into society, and find a way to return to her own world.

As the transport sped toward its destination, Ye Qing suddenly leaned closer to Ming Yu. With her head bowed so her hair veiled her face, she whispered softly, “Ming Yu, aren’t you afraid? Everyone else looks like they’ve already accepted their deaths.”

“Me? Of course… I am afraid,” Ming Yu replied after a moment of quiet thought, nodding.

It was a half-truth. She didn’t fear the insects, but she feared the void in her own memories and the strange hunger growing in her new body. However, her composed demeanor seemed to fascinate Ye Qing.

Ye Qing let out a soft, melancholic laugh. “I can’t see any fear in you. You’re special, Ming Yu. To be honest, I really envy you.”

“Envy me? For what?” Ming Yu asked, puzzled.

“I envy the light in your eyes,” Ye Qing said, finally looking up. “I don’t know how to explain it, but the light in our eyes is all the same—like a machine executing a program, a flame without any real warmth. But yours… your eyes look like they actually have a soul. You feel like a person who truly knows why they are living.”

A profound sense of desolation and powerlessness suddenly welled up within Ming Yu. She looked at the soldiers around her—bleeding and sacrificing for a cause they barely seemed to feel. They felt like machines. But she was different. She had a soul, complex emotions, and a desperate longing for people who were currently light-years away.

“Don’t overthink it,” Ming Yu said, gently patting Ye Qing’s shoulder. “Just focus on one thing for now: survive, and eliminate the threat. That is all.”

Within the gray, hazy clouds, the transport plane trailed a vibrant exhaust plume as it soared over wave after wave of rampaging insect swarms. It swiftly reached its destination: Nak, the riverside city.

When the transport airdropped its contents, the city’s outskirts were already fortified with a massive military presence, guarding the walls like an impenetrable forest of steel. Ming Yu looked around and saw power-armored soldiers everywhere. Unarmored personnel like her and Ye Qing were exceedingly rare.

Perhaps for this reason, they and several dozen other clerical and logistical soldiers were reassigned to handle the frantic dispatch work within the city. Ming Yu was utterly clueless about administrative tasks and could only watch Ye Qing busy herself. However, the chaos of the city under siege meant the chain of command was fraying.

Soon, an automated order came through for Ming Yu to be transferred to a different perimeter post. Seizing the opportunity provided by the administrative confusion, Ming Yu slipped away from the military zone entirely. She stepped into the civilian sectors of a human city on a distant star for the very first time. Nak, the sleepless city of ten million, unknowingly welcomed an uninvited guest with silver hair and crimson eyes.