Jiang Nuan stared at Lu Shiyan’s heat signature on the tactical terminal, her fingers turning cold.
Over the comms, Lu Shiyan’s breathing came through in short, uneven gasps.
“I’m past the maintenance access on the ninth floor. Entering Electrical Room 3.”
His location was changing at an incredible speed.
He was using spatial teleportation.
That meant he had begun pushing himself without regard for the cost. Every teleport placed a tremendous strain on his ability.
The farther he went, the greater the drain. He was racing death itself.
“Boom—”
Another muffled blast came from inside the building. The ground trembled. Chunks of shattered concrete fell from the upper floors, crashing onto the gray-shrouded street below with dull, heavy thuds.
Several fragments scattered to Jiang Nuan’s feet.
She clenched her fists and looked up at the building.
Finally.
A figure appeared on the exterior platform of the ninth floor.
Lu Shiyan.
He stood at the edge of the fractured section, with a half-collapsed concrete slab beneath his feet and the building tilting before him.
Gray dust swallowed most of his figure, leaving only the straight line of his black-clad back visible.
Then he raised both hands.
Jiang Nuan saw something she would never forget for the rest of her life.
A vast expanse of silver light spread outward from Lu Shiyan’s splayed fingers, as if some invisible force were drawing a picture with him at its center.
A dense humming filled the air, a grating sound that made her teeth ache.
A massive silver cube erupted from the break in the building.
It was so enormous it seemed to take away the breath. Spanning the entire cross-section of the ninth floor, it forced itself into the gap between the severed levels. Its top braced against the collapsing floor above, while its bottom pressed down on the still-intact structure of the eighth floor.
Then the building stopped collapsing.
With the strength of one man, he held up half a teetering skyscraper.
The entire process took less than three seconds.
There was a moment of silence over the comms. No one wasted time marveling at what was almost a miracle.
Everyone who had ever been trapped in a ruin knew that the instant a miracle occurred was the window in which to run. Every person still inside was scrambling desperately to evacuate.
“Eleventh floor, has aerial rescue arrived?” Jiang Nuan asked, forcing down the urgency in her voice.
“The helicopter is approaching! The wind’s too strong—we need thirty seconds to establish a stable hover—”
Thirty seconds.
Jiang Nuan repeated the number silently.
She lowered her eyes to the live surveillance feed on her tactical terminal.
On the ninth-floor platform, Lu Shiyan remained perfectly still, maintaining the same position.
The back of his uniform was soaked through with cold sweat. The black fabric clung tightly to the muscles of his back, stretched taut as if it might tear.
His hands were trembling faintly.
It was the first time she had ever seen such a physical reaction from Lu Shiyan.
Her palms were slick with sweat, but she didn’t ask if he was all right.
Those words were too foolish. With hundreds of lives hanging in the balance on this channel, saying something like that would have been an insult to Lu Shiyan.
Hold on.
Because you’re Lu Shiyan.
So you have to be able to do it… right?
“Survivors on the eleventh floor, prepare for boarding. Once the helicopter is in position, climb out through the windows nearest the aircraft and board in an orderly fashion.”
She didn’t even realize that she was imitating Lu Shiyan’s usual tone.
Calm, firm, and leaving no room for argument.
But her heartbeat thundered in her own ears.
Fifteen seconds.
Voices from the special-response teams came through the comms.
“Helicopter in position!”
“Boarding begins!”
On the projection, the points of light entered the aircraft one by one.
“The upper floors are clear!” the special-response captain reported over the comms. “Everyone has evacuated!”
The tension in Jiang Nuan’s chest eased.
“Lu Shiyan! Get out!”
Her shout cracked slightly.
Almost at that exact moment, the silver cube vanished. Deprived of its support, the upper floors immediately collapsed in a cascading fold.
“Boom—!!”
The deafening blast struck like thunder.
A sharp ringing suddenly pierced Jiang Nuan’s ears.
Then she could hear nothing.
Her vision blurred. The world’s outlines swayed violently as the building crumpled and fell.
She stared at Lu Shiyan’s heat signature on the tactical terminal.
That tiny point disappeared from the screen at the exact moment the building collapsed.
No.
Jiang Nuan’s fingers began to tremble.
She told herself that the signal had merely been blocked by the rubble. It was only temporary. He would be fine.
He was Lu Shiyan.
But her body was more honest than her mind.
She braced herself against her knees as her stomach twisted violently. Nausea surged up her throat, so powerful that reason could not suppress it.
Lu Shiyan.
Where are you?
Are you still alive?
She didn’t know how long she stood there.
Not until the dust slowly began to settle.
Not until the ringing in her ears faded and the cries of survivors and the roar of helicopter rotors filtered through.
Her senses were returning.
Jiang Nuan straightened abruptly.
Survivors were pouring out through the Sea God Building’s various emergency exits. Some were clutching their heads and sobbing. Others staggered toward the areas outside Zone E that had not been swallowed by the gray fog.
Jiang Nuan pushed against the flow of people.
Her eyes searched every face—every face covered in dust, terror, and exhaustion.
Not him.
None of them were him.
She saw a helicopter descending onto another open stretch of ground. Its rotors had not yet come to a complete stop, and the tremendous downdraft sent dust and gravel scattering in every direction.
Without hesitation, Jiang Nuan sprinted toward it.
The helicopter door opened.
One person after another climbed down.
Not him.
A member of the special-response team reached out to steady her, but she shook him off.
“Get out of my way!”
Her voice was hoarse.
And then—
A tall figure dressed in black emerged slowly from the cabin, supported by one of the special-response officers.
His body was lean and upright.
Even though he was clearly weak to the point of exhaustion, his back remained perfectly straight.
His black commander’s uniform was filthy. His cuffs and hem had been torn in several places by dust and flying stones.
There was no color in his lips, but his eyes were still bright.
Calm. Steady. Eyes that always seemed to have everything under control.
Lu Shiyan.
Jiang Nuan stood rooted to the spot.
The roar of the helicopter rotors, the sobbing of the crowd, the distant alarms, and the howling wind—all of it fell silent in that instant.
Lu Shiyan saw her too.
His gaze passed through the crowd, through the chaos and dust, and settled on her.
Tears suddenly welled in Jiang Nuan’s eyes.
She didn’t even realize she was crying.
Her eyes simply grew hot, and then her vision blurred.
She bit down hard on her lower lip, forcing the tears back.
She was a member of Team Zero. She couldn’t embarrass herself.
Jiang Nuan stumbled one step forward.
Then she walked faster and faster, until she was practically running.
She rushed up to him.
Lu Shiyan watched her coming.
For an instant, something changed in his eyes. The layer of perfect calm, the sense that he was always in control, shattered for a heartbeat.
Jiang Nuan stopped in front of him.
She parted her lips.
A thousand words crowded her mind.
Your ability can do that?
Are you all right?
You scared me half to death.
But not a single word came out. Her voice was lodged in her throat.
Lu Shiyan looked at her, his gaze moving from her tear-bright eyes to the slightly disheveled hair tousled by her run, then to the fingers she had clenched tightly.
Then he lifted the hand that had just held up half a building and gently placed it against the back of her head, pressing her lightly toward his chest.
There was no force behind it—only a soft, restrained gesture.
Jiang Nuan finally relaxed. Using the last of her composure to keep from crying, she quietly rested her forehead against his chest and closed her eyes.
His uniform still carried the scent of dust that had yet to settle, mingled with a faint smell of blood. That scent wrapped firmly around her.
Lu Shiyan’s hand moved to her back, patting it gently, once after another.
It was completely different from his usual forceful, imposing manner.
The special forces personnel around them were all stunned.
The ruthless man who had just held up half a building by himself, as if he had activated a cheat code, was now carefully patting the back of the girl in his arms?
Someone started to step forward to ask what had happened, but a colleague beside him pulled him back and signaled with his eyes not to disturb them.
Lu Shiyan rested his chin lightly against the crown of her head. His voice was soft, carrying a hint of tenderness he himself did not notice.
“It’s all right now.”
“I’m here.”
