The more than one billion people silently watching this scene
felt that what was happening on the light screen was even less real, as if they were watching a film.
Though they doubted it in their hearts, they could not bear to look away.
They only wanted to see how the government would negotiate after laying down such terms, yet deep inside, a devilish thought lingered—they did not want this mecha to yield.
Just as Ke Qingshan of the Mountain Haze Society had said when he piloted the Crimson Armament: the fires of revolution would never die.
Sometimes, once a seed had been planted, it would endure wind and sun, snow and rain in the days ahead. Yet as long as it found the right day, it would eventually break through the soil.
Now, such a seed, mixed with indescribable thoughts, had already been planted in people's hearts.
Among those who had long harbored indignation toward this world of rigidly entrenched classes, their thoughts were like a long-dormant dead volcano, finally awaiting the day it would awaken and erupt.
That Great Lightning Owl, which acted without restraint and recognized no boundaries, had at this moment become the spiritual anchor of countless people. It seemed to represent a freedom they longed for...
For the weak to resist the powerful had always carried a tragic yet heroic air, no matter the era.
Now, they quietly watched this scene.
They were afraid, yet they also longed for a miracle... the miracle they had once wished to see deep in their hearts.
"Sir, this is an official communication request from the Federation. I still hope you will proceed cautiously. There may be some misunderstanding between us."
The sounds of impacts in the sky rang without end as Tang Ze lowered his eyelids and spoke.