Whispers in the Vast Shadows

The captive spread his lips, exposing bloodstained teeth, and let out a strange, hoarse laugh.

There was no fear in his laughter, only mockery.

He said nothing, merely staring at Lynn with those burning eyes.

"Still keeping your mouth shut?"

Davis limped over, dragging a bandaged leg, his face full of viciousness and exhaustion.

He spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva and glared fiercely at the captive.

"Boss, leave him to me. Ten minutes, and I'll get him to tell me what color underwear his mother wears!"

His hand went to the military dagger at his waist.

Lynn raised a hand to stop Davis, then crouched and met the captive's eyes.

"Look at me," Lynn said, his voice oppressive. "I know you aren't afraid to die.

"But the Patriarch left something inside you, didn't he?"

He pointed at the bulging, faintly pulsing blue-black veins near the captive's temple.

"That thing that blew your companion's head apart is quiet right now.

"But if the Patriarch finds out you were taken alive and lost the map tube... what will it do?"

The strange grin froze on the captive's face. A flicker of genuine fear crossed his eyes.

He tried to move, but his wounded leg pinned him in place. All he could do was howl louder in pain and fear.

Just then, Min-seon hurried over, her white coat covered in blood and dust, her face weary and grave.

"Lynn, Davis, the operating room... something's wrong with Skinner's body."

Lynn's gaze sharpened, and he immediately rose.

Davis swore, shot the captive a vicious glare, and followed.

Wraith stayed behind, his dagger held steadily against Messenger's throat.

It was colder inside the makeshift operating room-a reinforced corner of a warehouse.

Beneath the surgical light, Skinner's corpse lay secured to a metal table.

Wearing thick rubber gloves, Stitch carefully probed the tiny wound on the corpse's temple with surgical forceps. A sickly sweet stench filled the air.

"Not long after you left," Min-seon said, her voice trembling slightly as she pointed at the corpse, "these things beneath his skin... the ones that look like blood vessels, started... moving.

"Only slightly, but they were definitely moving.

"And what's coming out of the wound isn't just black fluid anymore. It's mixed with something... thick, like biological tissue."

With tweezers, Stitch extracted a tiny clump of material from the wound, like half-melted black threadworms.

It twitched as she gripped it.

Though it quickly went rigid, that brief sign of life made everyone's scalp prickle.

"What the fuck is that?!" Davis's voice tightened, and he took half a step back.

"Some kind of... highly specialized parasite."

Stitch's voice came through her mask, calm but grave.

"I've never seen anything like it. It seems to survive on its host's nervous system and bioelectricity.

"When the host dies or it receives a specific signal, it self-destructs, possibly releasing toxins or pheromones as well.

"This specimen has gone rigid, but its structure... is extremely complex. It doesn't look natural."

He carefully placed the tiny bit of material in a sealed glass culture dish.

Lynn stared at the black substance in the dish, then looked at Skinner's bulging eyes, frozen in agony.

He remembered the same veins on Messenger's temple.

"This Patriarch... does he control not only people, but these things too? Or is this thing the tool he uses to control people?"

He spun around. "Wraith! Bring Messenger here! Now!"

Wraith and another Ash member dragged Messenger into the operating room and dumped him on the floor.

At the sight of Skinner's gruesome corpse on the operating table and the thing removed from his temple, he broke down completely.

The madness and stubbornness vanished, leaving only fear.

He shook violently and whimpered, desperately trying to shrink backward, but they held him firmly in place.

Lynn picked up the culture dish containing the black substance and crouched in front of Messenger, bringing the glass wall almost against his temple and its bulging veins.

"Recognize it?"

Lynn's voice was ice-cold.

"This thing bored Skinner's brains to pieces.

"It's in your head too, isn't it?

"Tell me. How does the Patriarch control it? How does he quiet it down? And how does he make it... explode?"

Messenger stared at the thing in the glass dish, his pupils dilating as far as they could in terror.

He struggled desperately, screaming incoherently, "No... don't! Don't let it out! Serum! He... he has serum! Regular injections... soothe it... put it to sleep.

"The mine... deep in the mine... a laboratory... that's where he does... control! The map... it's marked on the map! Safe house... laboratory entrance!"

Extreme terror broke him. To stay alive, he spilled everything he knew.

"Serum? A laboratory?"

Lynn's eyes were sharp as he pressed him. "Exact location? Guards? What does the Patriarch look like? What can he do?"

"I... I don't know the exact location. The map... it's on the map.

"The safe house is at the end of the third branch of the mine... the laboratory entrance... the entrance is in the stone wall behind the safe house... there's... there's a mechanism.

"Guards... lots of Whisperers, and... and 'Guardians' the Patriarch has worked on. Stronger... even less afraid of pain.

"The Patriarch... he... he rarely comes out, and he always wears a hat... can't see his face. His voice... his voice is strange... like... like sandpaper scraping something... he can... can directly make the things in our heads... hurt, make us obey."

Tears and snot streamed down Messenger's face, his body convulsing constantly from terror and excruciating pain.

Lynn stood and looked at the map tube in Wraith's hand.

Now, it was their only key.

Three hours later, a heavy atmosphere hung over the base's central command room, a reinforced office.

Lynn, Davis, Anvil, Zhao Jinghong, Old Joey, and the members of the Ash Squad gathered around a wooden table.

Spread across the table were the contents of the map tube.

They were not ordinary maps, but several extremely detailed diagrams of the underground mine, drawn on tough hide parchment.

They marked abandoned mine tunnels, ventilation shafts, cave-ins, water sources, and areas indicated by special symbols-including the safe house Messenger had mentioned at the end of the third branch, and an area marked with a conspicuous, distorted spiral, with "Origin Point" written beside it.

An inconspicuous gear symbol marked the rock wall behind the safe house, presumably indicating the mechanical entrance.

Several lines of strange, unreadable writing in dark red ink ran along the edges of the diagrams.

"This is professional survey-team work."

Wearing reading glasses, Old Joey traced the diagrams with a finger, his voice low. "No ordinary person drew these. This 'Origin Point'... feels wrong."

"Unknown guards, complicated terrain, and those fucking things..."

Davis pointed at the spiral symbol. "'Guardians'? Modified ones? Fuck, what kind of experiments is the Patriarch running?"

Anvil folded his arms, looking like a rock. "The mine environment limits heavy firepower.

"We need a small elite force, rapid infiltration, and targeted elimination.

"Objectives: obtain serum samples, destroy the Origin Point, and capture or kill the Patriarch."

He looked at Zhao Jinghong, Wraith, Peregrine, and the others.

"Infiltration, reconnaissance, silent elimination. Those are our strengths."

Holding Awakening of Insects, Zhao Jinghong nodded, his gaze calm; Wraith, in the corner, said nothing, merely inclining his head slightly;

Peregrine adjusted his night-vision goggles and stared at the sniper positions on the diagrams.

"The serum is crucial," Stitch said calmly. "The parasite in Messenger's brain is gradually becoming more active.

"Without serum to suppress it, he could explode like Skinner at any moment.

"And if our people get implanted or infected after going in..."

He did not finish, but his meaning was clear.

Lynn pressed his finger hard against the spiral marking the Origin Point on the diagram.

"We have no better choice. As long as the Patriarch and these things exist, the base won't have a day of peace.

"Today he could drive a horde of corpses to blow up our wall. Tomorrow he could do something even crazier.

"That mine has to be cleared out."

He swept his gaze over everyone, his voice decisive:

"Anvil, you're in command of this operation.

"The entire Ash Squad will deploy, handling infiltration, reconnaissance, and elimination of the core targets.

"Zhao Jinghong, you'll accompany the team, providing close protection and dealing with tough opponents.

"Davis, take your people and hold the mine entrance. Set up a defensive line, support our withdrawal, and guard against corpse hordes outside.

"Old Joey, the base is yours. Repair the wall and maintain the highest alert.

"Min-seon, prepare the highest-level isolation medical area, in case... anyone gets infected or injured.

"Stitch, you'll go with the infiltration team, handling medical care and... any possible parasites."

"Understood!"

They answered in unison, their exhaustion replaced by urgency and killing intent.

"Operation codename: Furnace."

Lynn's voice was icy. "Be ready before dawn. We're going to give the Patriarch's nest its last rites."

Everyone quickly dispersed.

Lynn stood alone beside the table, his finger once again tracing the distorted spiral on the hide diagram-the Origin Point.

Under the light, the strange dark red writing along the edges seemed to exude something ominous.

This world seemed more complicated than he had thought!

Deep in the shadows of the mine, the whispers continued.

And this time, the flames would surge into the darkness of their own accord.