Chapter 4
1060 Words
"Initiate SkyNet Protocol."
The mechanical voice paused for a fraction of a second. "Your Eminence, the SkyNet Protocol requires a two-thirds majority vote from the College of Cardinals..."
"I have cast my vote." The Archbishop clenched his fist. The flame of a hovering candle flickered violently in the air. "The votes are now sufficient."
On the map, the red dots coalesced into lines. Urban surveillance nodes, subterranean network access points, black markets for antiquities... every conceivable escape route was severed by a red cordon.
"I want him alive." The Archbishop turned and walked deeper into the darkness. "The genetic sequence within him is the key to unlocking 'that place.' If he dies, the key is broken."
"Understood. Global Response Teams are standing by."
"Tell the Hunters," the Archbishop's voice faded into the shadows, "this time, no Holy Water. Use the capture nets."
***
The headlights illuminated a weathered wooden sign.
"K's Antiquities."
The lettering was handwritten, and the paint was peeling away in patches. The shop was sandwiched between two shuttered hardware stores; its metal roll-up door was half-lowered, revealing the dim, interior lighting within.
Su Hongxiu parked the car at the mouth of the alley and cut the engine.
"It's right here," she said, unbuckling her seatbelt. "Your wounds need tending to; Old K knows his stuff."
Qin Lie pushed the door open and stepped out. His boots made a faint *squelching* sound as they met the rain-slicked pavement. The pre-dawn breeze carried the scents of mildew and rust.
He walked up to the shop's entrance. Sure enough, a copper padlock hung from the door handle, its clasp left unfastened.
He reached out and pushed the door open. The hinges let out a dry, grating squeal.
The interior was even darker than the street outside. Only a single desk lamp glowed behind the counter. The glass display cases were packed with various antique weapons—swords, spears, halberds—most of them bearing traces of rust.
"Is anyone here?" Su Hongxiu followed him in, her hand resting on the first-aid kit at her waist.
There was no reply.
Qin Lie's gaze swept across the room. The dust on the shelves lay thick, yet the surface of the counter remained spotless. Someone had been here recently.
He walked up to the counter. Sitting on the tabletop were a teapot and three cups. One of the cups still held a dreg of tea—and it was still warm.
"They just left," Qin Lie said.
"Or maybe they're in the back room," Su Hongxiu suggested, heading toward the curtain hanging at the rear.
Qin Lie remained motionless. A vibration in his pocket brought him to a halt.
He pulled out the microchip he had salvaged from the dismantled communicator. Its indicator light—originally blue—had now turned red.
A faint glow flickered in the darkness. Once. Twice.
Its rhythm synchronized perfectly with his heartbeat.
Su Hongxiu pulled back the curtain. Beyond it lay a corridor leading down to a basement.
"Old K isn't here," she called back. "But there are signs of a struggle."
Qin Lie stared at the chip in his hand. The red light began to flicker with increasing speed.
"It wasn't a struggle," Qin Lie said, tightening his grip on the chip. "It's a locator beacon."
The vibration in his pocket intensified, shifting into a continuous, low-frequency hum.
Su Hongxiu's expression hardened; she swiftly drew her pistol. "SkyNet has been activated."
Qin Lie hurled the chip to the floor. He raised his foot and crushed it. The plastic casing cracked open, and the red light went out.
But it was too late.
From just beyond the alleyway entrance, the distant sound of engines began to drift in. It wasn't the rumble of ordinary vehicles, but rather the low-frequency thrum of turbine rotors.
"Upstairs," Qin Lie said.
"What?"
"Old K is upstairs," Qin Lie replied, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. From somewhere above the layer of aging wooden floorboards, the faintest sound of footsteps could be heard. "He's waiting for us."
Su Hongxiu raised her pistol, aiming its muzzle toward the ceiling. "Why didn't you open the door?"
"He's testing us," Qin Lie said, heading toward the stairs. "Testing whether we can survive the night."
The stairs creaked under his weight. With every step upward, the fragments of the shattered chip in his pocket grew a degree hotter.
There were no lights on the second floor. Moonlight streamed in through a broken window, falling upon an old sofa.
A figure sat there, shrouded in shadow.
In his hands, he held a hammer. He was using it to pound a piece of glowing-red iron.
Sparks flew in all directions.
"You're three minutes later than expected." Old K didn't look up. His voice was raspy—like sandpaper scraping against sheet metal. "It seems you ran into some trouble on the way."
Qin Lie stood at the top of the stairs, his hand resting on the hilt of his short sword.
"You knew we were coming."
"I forged the sword myself." Old K paused his hammering and finally looked up.
His face was a roadmap of wrinkles, and his left eye was covered by a black eyepatch. His right eye was clouded with age, yet it gleamed with a terrifying intensity.
"I knew you would eventually wake up, too," Old K said, setting his hammer aside and pointing toward the short sword at Qin Lie's waist. "But I never expected it to happen so soon."
Outside the window, the searchlight of a rotorcraft swept across the wall; the beam of light flashed past in an instant.
Old K didn't flinch.
"Sit down," he said. "It will take ten minutes for the Sky Net to close in. We have only nine."
Qin Lie remained motionless.
"Who are you?"
"The swordsmith," Old K replied, picking up a glass from a nearby table and filling it with liquid. "And one of the few stragglers who managed to slip through the net back in the day."
He slid the glass across the table.
"Drink up. Then tell me: is that sword burning hot?"
Qin Lie stared at the glass. The liquid inside was a deep, dark red.
The fragments in his pocket had gone completely cold.
But the roar of engines just beyond the walls was drawing ever closer.
- Writer
