Opening

According to the records, this place had been abandoned for nearly eighty years, yet even so, only parts of its surface had rusted.

The group scraped away the rusted sections with shovels, then took out fuel and lit it atop the round iron door. The ring of seams around it had long since frozen solid beneath the enduring ice and snow; they had to melt them first before there was any chance of opening the door.

The group had drawn up plans long before coming here to excavate.

"Military bases from that era were more like shelters," Susan said as she watched the roaring flames. "When they were first designed, the basic standard was that they had to be able to withstand missile bombardment head-on."

"So doors like this were built with the simplest possible structure, to keep them from deforming and trapping everyone inside to die."

And that was indeed the case. The machinery of a century ago had never pursued refinement; it had been built tough and durable.

A base had been established in this snowfield, a forbidden zone of life, to serve as a hidden trump card.

Imagine two armies locked in battle when more than a hundred men suddenly launched a rear attack, while the enemy in front coordinated from within and without. If handled properly, it could completely turn the tide of a war.

Then there were places like this, which generally contained missile silos. Although they could only achieve the element of surprise once—after the missiles were launched, the location would be exposed—in war, the outcome of one crucial battle could often dictate the course of the entire conflict.

Half an hour later, the flames went out. The group first used snow to cool the iron door, then began prying it open with crowbars