The Underground Great Wall—a thousand-year-old miracle fortress, now a… graveyard.
Crisscrossing tunnels buried deep beneath rock and permafrost, once filled with the breath, sweat, blood, and faith of tens of thousands of soldiers.
The concrete walls bore weathered slogans, simple maps, and the marks of time.
The dim emergency lights had long since died, leaving only the soldiers’ helmet-mounted tactical lights to cut through the oppressive darkness with crisscrossing beams.
The remnants of the 103rd Division’s forward command—squads and teams—followed the final route replanned and etched into each soldier’s mental map, arriving at their assigned locations in silence and haste.
These locations were not chosen at random.
They were precisely positioned at the load-bearing nodes of the Underground Great Wall’s most critical structures, where the boundaries with the Death Realm resonated and the space was weakest.
At each location, one or more of the big packages rested—silent, standing or lying in the dark, their metal surfaces gleaming coldly in the flashlight beams like sleeping beasts waiting for their final awakening.
The air was thick with dust, a faint smell of oil, and an indescribable mix of resolve and calm.
No one spoke.
Only the rustle of boots on the ground, the faint clink of gear colliding, and breaths held to the utmost.
The communication channel was dead silent.
But the invisible radio waves had branded Division Commander Su Xiche’s final, resolute order into the soul of every soldier.
Arrive.
Take position.
Check.
Confirm.
Every step was completed in suffocating efficiency and silence.
Hands pressed against the cold surface of the warheads, or hovered over the scarlet manual detonation buttons under their transparent covers.
The hands were steady.
Even if some arms trembled slightly, the fingers did not hesitate.
Time seemed stretched, yet compressed to the extreme.
Somewhere along the northwestern line, at one of the mission points.
The squad responsible was an elite team from the division’s engineer battalion, led by a major who looked about thirty, with an old scar on his cheek.
He wore a worn officer’s uniform, his collar and shoulder insignia barely visible in the dim light.
He stood in the center of the circular warhead array, facing the most prominent red button on the main control panel.
The major did not act immediately.
He slowly straightened up and leaned back against the cold metal shell of one of the warheads.
The chill seeped through his thin uniform, cooling his blood—hot with tension and resolve—for a brief moment.
He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a nearly flattened tin cigarette case.
Opening it, he found a single crumpled cigarette, its filter slightly deformed.
He pinched the cigarette and brought it to his nose, deeply inhaling the dry, bitter scent of tobacco.
Then, biting the cigarette gently with his teeth, he pulled out a lighter with his other hand.
Click.
A flame flared, illuminating his tired, weathered face, and the immensely complex light in his eyes—a love for life, determination for the mission, acceptance of the unknown end, and the unwavering awareness of a soldier.
He lit the cigarette and took a deep, greedy drag.
The smoke filled his lungs, bringing familiar warmth and a fleeting comfort.
He tilted his head back, exhaled slowly, watching the gray-blue smoke rise and twist in the beam of the tactical light, dissipating into the dark dome.
He stood there against the warhead, smoking one puff after another.
Slowly, deliberately, as if savoring the last taste of the world.
The tactical light occasionally swept across him, revealing his closed eyes, trembling lashes, and the near-solid calm at the corner of his mouth.
Time ticked by.
The cigarette burned down.
Finally, the ember reached the filter, burning his fingertips.
The major opened his eyes.
The last trace of daze was gone, replaced by steel-hard determination.
He casually tossed the spent butt onto the dusty floor littered with metal shavings.
Then, lifting his heavy military boot, he ground it down firmly, slowly, almost ritualistically, until the last red glow died out, reduced to a tiny heap of ash.
Having done that, he straightened his spine.
His gaze locked onto the manual detonation button on the main control panel—the scarlet, glaring button under the transparent cover.
His right hand slowly rose, index finger extended, the knuckle growing white from the pressure.
No hesitation.
No trembling.
Only an unyielding resolve, cutting off all retreat!
“For Beihai.”
He whispered the four words, audible only to himself.
Then— His index finger pressed down hard!
Pressing the ultimate button, connected to multiple warheads, enough to trigger a chain reaction and completely destroy this underground structure!
Click.
A faint, yet soul-piercing sound of the mechanism engaging.
The button sank.
The red light inside the transparent cover flashed on, flickering wildly!
Then— The world seemed to be muted.
A dead silence.
Absolute, heart-stopping, as if time itself had frozen.
Then— BOOOOOOM!!!
It wasn’t the sound that came first!
First, the ground beneath his feet lurched upward!
Like an ancient slumbering beast suddenly turning over!
Only then did the terrifying, eardrum-shattering roar sweep in like a tsunami!
But the roar seemed twisted and stretched by some even more violent force, becoming a destructive howl that bypassed hearing, striking directly at the soul!
With the major’s pressed button at the core, an indescribable white-hot light exploded!
It was no ordinary explosion; it was a superheated shockwave of ultimate destruction, instantly vaporizing metal, rock, concrete!
Everything the light touched was annihilated in an instant!
The major’s body, the warhead he leaned on, the control panel, the other warheads arrayed around, the massive energy conversion devices, the concrete walls, dome, floor… All matter was decomposed into basic particles in a billionth of a second by unimaginable heat and pressure, leaving not even ash!
The Underground Great Wall, which had stood for a thousand years, reinforced countless times, and could withstand direct hits from heavy bunker-busting bombs, now, under the combined effect of these precisely synchronized multi-point explosions and directed shocks, cracked and groaned like an eggshell struck by a giant’s hammer!
Support columns twisted and snapped!
Thick armor was torn like paper!
The crisscrossing tunnels collapsed in chain reactions, blocked, annihilated!
The destructive shockwave, like a lava dragon surging underground, spread, multiplied, and amplified at terrifying speeds along the preset demolition path!
It tore through layers of rock and fortifications, brutally altering the underground structure, creating huge cavities and cracks, and then… Bursting to the surface!
At the Death Realm, the northwestern wasteland, above the corresponding blast point.
First, the ground heaved violently, like a wave!
Then— BOOM!!!
The solid earth burst open like fragile biscuits!
Countless massive chunks of dirt and rock were hurled into the air!
A blazing red pillar of fire, mixed with molten metal and ionized air, along with smoke and dust that blotted out the sky, erupted from the gap in the shattered ground like a volcanic hellfire!
Instantly turning an area hundreds of meters around into a furnace!
The firelight lit up the gray sky, and the dust formed a huge mushroom-shaped column!
And this was just the beginning!
Almost in the same millisecond the northwestern major pressed his button—
Along the long path Su Xiche had replanned, hugging the boundary of the Death Realm… at every preset demolition point along the Underground Great Wall!
Pairs of firm hands, hearts set on death, in the endless darkness and silence, simultaneously, or nearly so… Pressed the scarlet terminal buttons before them!
“For the 103rd!”
“For the people behind us!”
“Brothers, see you in the next life!”
Silent shouts echoed in the depths of their souls.
Then— BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!!!!!
An unbroken, echoing, converging symphony of destruction—explosions thundered from different positions along the Death Realm boundary, all at once or consecutively!
One after another, crimson or white-hot pillars of fire tore through the earth, piercing the sky!
One after another, churning clouds of dust rose, merging into a single canopy, placing a crown of death on this false world about to dissolve!
The shockwaves collided and stacked underground, triggering even more violent geological changes.
On the surface, they turned into a storm of annihilation, sweeping across the wasteland, leveling and pulverizing every remaining ruin, withered tree, and strange rock!
The entire Death Realm’s earth trembled madly, as if doomsday had arrived!
And accompanying this physical, earth-shattering destruction… The foundation of the Death Realm—the centuries-accumulated, unbroken lingering obsessions of the dead, the special rules that maintained this twisted space—also began to shake, collapse, and dissolve under the massive synchronized boundary explosions, which produced an indescribable energy impact and conceptual disturbance!
The dispersion of obsessions was not silent.
It was the exhalation of countless relieved sighs, countless unfinished instructions, the phantom of a bloodstained battle flag waving for the last time, the fading echo of a bugle call…
These formless spiritual fragments, mixed with the roar and flames of the explosions, became a tragic, desolate background sound, echoing in every corner of the collapsing Death Realm.
Visibly, the originally twisted but still clear edges of the Death Realm began to blur, flicker, and waver!
The boundary scenes, like a faulty screen, started to flicker, twist, and show snow-like noise!
The gray mist churned violently, and the spatial structure groaned under strain, like glass about to crack!
The entire Death Realm, under this combined internal and external destructive force, became extremely unstable, teetering on the brink!
At the Beihai end, the last and largest main demolition point of the Underground Great Wall.
This structure was the most robust and complex, holding the largest warhead of all.
Now, the vast underground space was empty.
Only a single figure stood quietly by the central platform, in front of a massive warhead far larger than the others.
Su Xiche.
He had changed into a relatively clean old-style uniform, his collar and shoulder badges impeccable.
The grime of gunpowder had been wiped from his face, revealing a weathered countenance that was now incredibly calm.
He had placed his tactical light on a nearby control panel, the beam upward, illuminating part of the dome and casting a halo around him.
He stood still, his gaze falling on the silent warhead before him, a symbol of final termination, yet seeming to look past it into some distant place.
He raised his right hand, palm open.
In it lay a copper medal, slightly oxidized and dark, its edges even a bit worn.