Inside the Joint Command Center, a massive circular screen displayed the map of the Blue Planet, dotted with light-points of varying colors representing abnormal events. The atmosphere was so oppressive it felt as if the air itself had solidified.
Suddenly, a coordinate within the LongNation erupted in a searing red light—the Fukang Sanatorium.
"Chief!" a young researcher shouted, his voice cracking. "The spatial collapse rate at the sanatorium has reached the critical point!"
The Chief locked his gaze onto the red dot, a flicker of decisive resolve crossing his eyes. Amidst the silence of the room, his command was calm but absolute: "Do not intervene."
He paused, each word carrying the weight of the state. "Dispatch a helicopter fleet with the best medical team immediately. Objective: Safely evacuate every survivor already rescued."
Within ten seconds of the order, the solid red dot representing the sanatorium began to fade and blur. It didn't explode or crumble; it was simply erased.
High-resolution satellite imagery showed the city corner where the building once stood was now eerily clean—nothing but barren earth remained, as if the sanatorium had never existed.
The command center fell into a deathly stillness. The Chief stood with his hands clenched behind his back, his veins bulging with the tension of his silent question: Can he handle this?
National Academy of Sciences, High-Precision Analysis Lab.
In stark contrast to the command center's dread, a single ancient Gold Ingot lay on a precision instrument platform. Under the soft white lights, its age-worn patina shimmered with a divine glow.
Li Ming, the most brilliant disciple of DeanHao Xue, stared at the data curves flashing across his screen with near-manic focus.
A 3D model of the ingot's micro-structure rotated before him, highlighting an unknown element with energy characteristics that defied every known physical law.
Li Ming gasped, his chest heaving. "This is impossible... its strength, conductivity, and resilience... every parameter completely surpasses any metal known to man! It is... the perfect substitute!"
Clutching the preliminary reports, Li Ming sprinted through the corridors, nearly knocking over colleagues as he shouted, "Apologies! Urgent business for Dean Hao!"
Inside his office, Dean Hao Xue sat contemplating reports on the recent anomalies. Though his hair had thinned further over the past few days, his eyes remained sharp as his star pupil burst through the door with the news of the miracle gold.
Inside the study, where the periodic table shimmered on the wall, the silence was shattered as Li Ming burst in, breathless.
"Dean! A major discovery regarding the Gold Ingots!"
Dean Hao Xue scanned the reports, his sharp eyes narrowing as they locked onto the data. For thirty minutes, the only sound was the rustling of paper.
Finally, he looked up, his voice trembling with a mix of shock and relief. "This is not just metal. This is a dimensional strike against the laws of physics. Its parameters blow everything we know out of the water; every special alloy on Blue Planet is now scrap metal by comparison."
By the time they reached the Chief's office, the heavy atmosphere had shifted toward a flicker of anticipation.
The Chief listened as the data for the unknown element projected across the screen. When he heard the words "can replace any metal," the exhaustion in his eyes vanished, replaced by a razor-sharp focus.
"This is the shot in the arm we needed," the Chief declared, immediately reaching for the secure hotline. "Get me the President of the Three Blue Lion Country."
"It's me," the Chief spoke into the receiver, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of excitement. He concisely shared the discovery of the universal metallic substitute.
The response from the Three Blue LionCountry was one of pure disbelief followed by frantic hope. "Chief! This is truly a godsend! I just spoke with the President of the Black Eagle Nation. He informed me that the massive 'Gold' placed in their national plaza is causing plants to grow at an impossible rate! Preliminary biological reports show the gold possesses an extreme promotion of cell activity and... regenerative effects!"
The Chief gripped the phone, a vision of a grander mystery forming in his mind. Gold ingots, unknown metals, biological vitality—these were no longer just resources; they were the "Keys" left behind after nature's "Right of Interpretation" had been seized by the Beast God.
"I see," the Chief replied. "It seems these 'Gifts' are the answers provided to us. We must accelerate our shared research immediately."
The sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting mottled shadows across her face, a silent omen of a new turning point.
Fengxi looked down at her hands—fair as jade, yet harboring a power that defied mortal logic.
The last of the strawberry cookies was gone, and while Sato's foul memories still flickered like dying embers in her mind, the searing pain diminished with every "filth" she purged from the world.
"Is this the duty of the Wind?" she whispered to the air. "Is this what the Great Beast God feels every single second?" There was a trace of bewilderment in her voice, a growing realization of the heavy, eternal burden carried by the Goddess.
A tug at her sleeve broke her reverie.
Looking down, she saw the elderly cat she had rescued from the peak of the sanatorium's laboratory. It was scrawny, its fur matted and grey, with only half an ear remaining—a living testament to the cruelty of the "bipeds". The cat rubbed its head against her ankle with a frail, trusting dependence.
As their eyes met, Fengxi saw her own heterochromatic pupils reflected in the cat's clouded gaze. A gold eye like the sun, a green eye like the abyss—shining with a strange, soft light.
A silent communication flowed between them. The cat didn't need words to express the irony: How strange, that I was once so terrified of you.
"Let's go," Fengxi murmured, crouching to stroke the cat's scarred back. "To a place where there are no people."
She stood up, the wind catching the hem of her dark coat. She felt a brief, sharp pang of longing for more cookies—for the safety of her mother's kitchen—but she suppressed it. To return now would bring danger to the only harbor she had left. She had to remain the Wind.
Behind her, the Karmic rippled. Every rescued life was a grain of light against the darkness she was tasked to sweep away.