Base No. 7

Xu Mo's head ached sharply, as if it might split open at any moment. Countless images flashed in his mind like a movie. He wanted to wake up, but his eyelids seemed unable to open. Is this a sleep paralysis? A thought briefly crossed Xu Mo's mind, his consciousness still struggling. Finally, his left hand moved, feeling a cold, sticky sensation. His right hand felt as if something heavy was pressing down on it, and it had grown somewhat numb. "Hah..." Xu Mo finally opened his eyes, breathing heavily, feeling utterly exhausted. As if sensing something, Xu Mo suddenly raised his left hand and looked at it. His palm was stained red with blood, a shocking sight that made Xu Mo's expression go blank and his heart race. His right arm still couldn't move. He turned his head slightly and glanced at it. A small, curled body was lying there, with torn clothes stained with blood. The child’s innocent face was marked with blood and tear stains. She was a five-year-old girl, still sobbing even as she slept. Xu Mo carefully shifted his body, bending his arm to support himself, turning to face the girl and gently placing her against his chest. As Xu Mo sat up, he looked around, his heart suddenly clenching with intense pain. In the cramped room, two cold bodies lay on the ground, their bodies already a dark purple color, blood staining the floor. Death had clearly visited some time ago. A memory surfaced in Xu Mo's mind, the pain sharp, accompanied by a profound sadness and heart-wrenching pain. It felt as though he couldn’t even distinguish who he was anymore. He looked down at the sobbing girl in his arms, and his heart ached even more. Xu Mo vaguely realized what had happened to him. He looked down at the ground, where broken furniture lay scattered. He found a broken mirror shard, shifted his body, and picked it up. When he looked at it, he saw a youthful face, around fifteen years old, pale and sickly. The girl’s eyelashes fluttered, and she opened her eyes, calling out, "Brother." As if recalling something, the girl suddenly cried out loud, her body struggling in Xu Mo's arms. She tried to turn but was forcibly held still by Xu Mo, his right hand tightening around her neck, his arm pressing gently so she couldn’t break free. "Don't look." Xu Mo said softly, his heart aching, his breath filled with pain. A five-year-old girl seeing her parents and brother beaten to death—how horrifying a scene was that? "Brother, I’m scared..." The girl cried and trembled, clutching Xu Mo tightly. His heart shook with her cries, and his grip tightened. "Don't be afraid. Brother is here." Xu Mo tried to make his voice sound gentle. "Brother, are Mom and Dad asleep? Why are they bleeding? Brother, can you wake them up?" the girl asked through her tears.