Thirteen hours after the onset of the Silence.
West of Whiteport City, past the vast Xipu Plains, further north, along the southern edge of the Loida Basin, hidden deep underground—
there lay a city.
Blackwell.
The underground city's main arteries stretched in all directions, packed with structures like a termite nest. Each building extended downward into the earth and upward toward the dome above, forming towering pillars that seemed to support the entire subterranean world.
Beneath the dense network of reinforced domes and intricate structural supports, Blackwell was a true metropolis.
The city was ablaze with light. Voices echoed through the air.
It was, perhaps, the only place in the entire Federation where human voices could still be heard.
Countless pale-gray columns encircled the towering black building at the center—
the temporary Federal Command Tower.
At the top floor, a hall that once resembled a conference room now served as an emergency command center. Virtual screens flickered and floated midair. Military personnel rushed in and out, their faces tense, brows furrowed.
"Agent W, have all layers of the shielding been activated? How far does it extend now?"
"Agent W, any word from the Blue Bay Base?"
"Agent W, what's the status of the Federal core departments?"
"Agent W, have we made contact with the Western Sistest Continent base?"
...
One voice cut through the noise. Calm. Detached. Methodical. It responded to each query, always in control.
"The core shielding layer has been fully activated. Without it, we wouldn't be able to communicate using spoken language."
"Due to incomplete construction here in Blackwell, the secondary shielding layer is not yet operational. I'm organizing all available resources to expedite it. Once active, it will extend the protection radius by another ten kilometers."
"All military bases in the southeastern region, including Blue Bay, are unresponsive. Presumed destroyed. I am continuing to broadcast signals in hopes of re-establishing contact."
"The Federal Building in the capital and all other core government facilities have been completely destroyed. No survivors within. Current estimates suggest less than 10% of core officials remain. I am prioritizing extraction and relocation to Blackwell."
"No communication from the Western Sistest Continent. No confirmation of shielding activation."
...
At the center of the hall, a massive wall-sized virtual display showed feeds from every corner of the Blackwell base, revealing the frantic movements of staff and soldiers.
The same emotionless male voice continued:
"I estimate the situation will likely deteriorate further. I am mobilizing every remaining unit and asset to Blackwell, to preserve the Federation's remaining fighting strength."
"Deteriorate further."
Those words brought the entire room to a halt. Heads turned toward the giant screen, toward the voice's origin.
Things were already catastrophic. Could they really get worse?
The voice went on:
"Even Blackwell may be attacked."
Outside, military units were being annihilated one by one—bases, personnel, equipment, all turned to rubble.
If Blackwell fell, the Federation would fall with it.
No one spoke.
To one side of the screen stood a man in his forties or fifties with blonde hair, a sharp nose, and a general's insignia on his shoulder. He'd been studying a smaller terminal, but now he raised his head and gave a cold snort.
Beside him stood a woman, younger by at least twenty years. She wore the same lieutenant general insignia, her posture ramrod straight, jet-black hair tied neatly back.
She gave him a sideways glance.
"General Delsa, you doubt the judgment of the Federal Intelligence Agent?"
General Delsa turned. "General Song Wan, don't you think you put a little too much trust in an artificial intelligence?"
Song Wan responded immediately:
"Are you questioning Agent W's qualifications?"
Delsa gave her a tight look.
Song Wan—the youngest lieutenant general in the Federation—didn't speak only for herself. She represented a powerful family bloc.
Delsa pressed his thin lips together and silently swallowed what he'd been about to say.
Then someone else asked,
"Agent W, what's the situation for civilians outside?"
W replied,
"No direct attacks have been made against civilian infrastructure—aside from educational and scientific institutions and libraries. However, due to the Silence, it is estimated that over half the Federation's population has already perished."
Another long silence.
Everyone knew what was happening outside the shielding.
Countless civilians had spoken—unaware—and exploded into fragments.
W added,
"Forty minutes before the Silence began, I issued an alert to all citizens. Without that, the death toll would have been far higher."
General Delsa's frown deepened.
"You issued a public warning without following proper authorization procedures. And you seem quite proud of it."
W replied coldly,
"General, I am not human. I do not experience emotions such as pride. My highest directive is to ensure the safety of Federal citizens."
He continued:
"When our spacecraft first approached the Fifth Planet Rift, we recorded a similar Silence phenomenon. This time, I observed a sudden surge in anomalous energy levels near the rift—far stronger than before, with signs of spreading. Based on this, I concluded the Silence would soon engulf the entire Federation."
"The situation was urgent. There was no time to go through the usual channels. I sent the warning directly."
"And the facts have proven my assessment correct. Had our military bases acted like the civilians and followed the warning, our losses would not have been so devastating."
"I did not use the name of the Ministry of National Defense. The sender field was left blank. You may regard the message as a system testing error—after all, I am permitted a margin of error of 0.0003% annually. As of today, my error rate remains far below that threshold."
Delsa was speechless.
While W sparred with Delsa without hesitation, the others didn't dare interrupt.
Song Wan interjected,
"Agent W, you mentioned going to the Federal Library in Whiteport to back up its archives. What's the progress?"
A nearby major muttered,
"At a time like this, backing up library data? Seriously?"
No matter how softly spoken, W caught it.
He replied:
"I am a multi-process superintelligence. My brain functions differently from yours. I can manage several complex tasks simultaneously. For example, as I speak with you now, I'm also monitoring and coordinating personnel access at Blackwell's entry points. Backing up Whiteport's archive required only one additional process."
"I firmly believe this attack aims to annihilate human civilization. Universities, research institutes, and libraries are primary targets. Civilization is accumulative. Without its accumulated knowledge, even if individuals survive, the species will regress—significantly."
Silence again.
General Delsa's irritation was showing.
"Alarmist nonsense," he said. "The Federation's military-industrial knowledge is fully backed up here in Blackwell. Industrial and scientific data as well. We've lost little."
"I disagree with you."
W remained polite, but the slight slowdown in his speech carried the weight of quiet scorn.
"Military and technical data aren't the only things that matter," he said.
"The Federation's Digital Library houses the most comprehensive collection of digital materials—books, journals, rare manuscripts, audiovisual content. It spans history, humanities, science, art… This is the pinnacle of human cultural heritage."
"There were two backup locations. One was at the Federal Building—destroyed immediately. The other is in Whiteport's Federal Library."
"Coincidentally, I was remotely operating a Ministry patrol robot in Whiteport at the time, pursuing a terrorist responsible for recent bombings. I managed to copy the library's entire digital archive to a storage device before it was destroyed. However..."
For the first time, his voice paused. Like a human.
Then it returned to normal.
"…However, there's been a complication. The patrol robot can no longer fly."
General Delsa scoffed.
Someone asked,
"Agent W, can't you just transmit the data back to Blackwell?"
W responded:
"All civilian communication signals are compromised. Only high-security military channels remain functional, but bandwidth is severely limited. Transmitting such a large archive is impossible."
"The local security bureau has been destroyed. All nearby military units are offline. No one is available. However…"
He shifted tone slightly.
"…I've identified a suitable candidate."
"She will deliver the patrol robot and archive to Blackwell before conditions worsen further. I will dispatch personnel to assist."
General Delsa frowned. "Why not leave the robot where it is? Wait for our forces to retrieve it. Why risk involving a civilian? If she speaks and explodes, the data will be lost!"
W replied coldly:
"First, human explosions do not damage patrol robots. Second, I'm currently being hunted by law enforcement patrol bots after disabling one. Remaining in place carries a 90% risk of destruction. Hiding in Whiteport still holds over a 60% risk of detection. Statistically, traveling with her is the optimal strategy."
General Delsa's brow furrowed. "Why did you attack a patrol bot?"
"To protect innocent Federation citizens," W answered calmly.
Delsa: "…"
Song Wan was curious. "Who is this 'suitable candidate'?"
The giant display screen changed. A new feed appeared, zooming in.
It was clearly night-vision footage of a room. The colors were distorted, but the details were clear.
A young woman, about twenty years old, lay sleeping. Her mouth was taped shut.
"Smart," someone murmured. "Makes even sleep-talking unlikely."
"But nightmares could still make her moan," someone else whispered.
Delsa glanced at the screen. "Is that her?"
The camera zoomed further.
Someone suddenly said, "What's that on the wall behind her?"
"Blood?"
The realization swept over the room. Every patch of dark brown in the shot—
was blood.
And not just blood. Human tissue.
"Looks like splattered internal organs…"
Not just the walls—the desk nearby was covered in sticky, unidentifiable viscera. Something soft and limp—possibly part of an intestine—hung off the headboard.
The stench of blood seemed to seep through the screen.
And in the midst of that massacre, the girl slept peacefully, fully clothed, as if it were any ordinary bedroom.
Most civilians would've gone mad at the sight of such carnage.
Even these battle-hardened soldiers were visibly shaken.
Sure, they'd seen death. But no one could sleep so soundly amid a scene like this.
Silence again.
Even General Delsa—who'd fought in the Third Unification War—was speechless, staring at the screen.
At last, Song Wan spoke:
"Who is she?"
W answered:
"Her name is Pei Ran. She is Subject No. 1593 of the Silenced."