At some unknown time, Chén Yàn stood on unfamiliar land. The ground beneath his feet was a muddy dirt road, the mire submerging his ankles. He wanted to walk, but his legs felt as heavy as if they were filled with lead.
It was pitch black all around, and utter silence prevailed. He couldn't tell east from west, nor did he know the way he came, nor where he was going. Chén Yàn grew anxious. He struggled to leave the place, but the more he walked forward, the stranger the sights became.
Scattered everywhere were broken wooden crates, ruined carriages, discarded bundles, and spilled grain, and increasingly so.
Chén Yàn felt a sense of foreboding. He wanted to turn back, but discovered that the muddy dirt road had become hard as stone. His feet felt as if they were encased in rock, and no matter how much he strained, he couldn't pull them out. Just as he was struggling with his legs, many figures appeared around him. They wore the clothes of refugees, their faces covered in blood, dragging their feet as they shuffled towards him.
Cold sweat soaked through his clothes. Chén Yàn was as anxious as an ant on a hot pan, but no matter how hard he tried, he remained pinned in place.
The wide-open eyes grew closer and closer, almost touching his nose. Their blood-red mouths opened and closed, incessantly repeating, "Since you're going to save, why didn't you come sooner?" Even more terrifying were the bandits he had cleaved. Halved bodies dragged themselves by their shoulders, their severed ends scraping against his hand as they crawled; headless torsos swayed and approached, blood foam still spurting from their cavities, landing on the ground with a 'sizzling' sound.
"Get away --!" Chén Yàn swung his arms to push them, but the specters didn't budge. Instead, he lost his balance and fell to the ground with a dull thud. His hands clawed wildly in the air, his fingertips grasping only air. The severed bodies, however, twisted around him like vines, their icy hands gripping his ankles and dragging him into deeper darkness. He wanted to lift his leg to kick, but his leg felt heavy as lead. He couldn't utter a sound from his throat, only a suffocating sensation surged up his throat, his chest feeling as if it would explode at any moment.
"Detecting driver's brainwave fluctuations, heart rate abnormally elevated."
Chén Yàn's eyelids twitched violently. His eyeballs darted around involuntarily, his hands raised as if trying to grasp something.
"Determining that continued persistence of this condition poses a danger. Initiating wake-up sequence."
The reclined pilot seat vibrated irregularly, as if patting Chén Yàn's body. Chén Yàn jolted up, his eyelids finally flying open. His pupils constricted sharply in the bright light. His gaze was unfocused for a full three seconds before slowly coming into sharp focus on the screen before him -- his physiological data was displayed there, glaringly red.
He gasped for air, cold sweat dripping down his temples, soaking the front of his collar. His right hand still held a scratching posture, his hand back having developed a red mark from the struggle. Only when he clearly saw the familiar interface inside the cockpit did he suddenly relax his tensed muscles, his back hitting the seatback with a tired thud.
"Hoo... hoo..." Chén Yàn closed his eyes. No longer seeing the horrifying scene, he was finally convinced it had been a dream.
"Your condition seems suboptimal," Argo, the mecha's onboard artificial intelligence, stated. Ensuring the pilot's safety was its highest priority command.
"Just now... I had a nightmare," he said, his voice trembling with lingering fear. "In the dream, those people killed by the bandits, and the ones I cut down... they all came for me."
The light in the cockpit slowly dimmed. Argo's electronic voice dropped two octaves from its usual tone: "Dreams are the brain's reconstruction of traumatic memories. You experienced multiple violent scenes in a short period. Your subconscious integrated 'unpreventable deaths' with 'actively inflicted killings' into materialized threats. This is the brain's stress response mechanism -- forcing you to confront unprocessed guilt through fear."
Chén Yàn raised his hand to wipe his face, his palm slick with cold sweat. "Protection mechanism?" He tugged at the corner of his mouth, a bitter smile playing on his lips. "This feels more like punishment."
"From the outcome, it indeed is." Argo's response remained rational, yet lacked a certain mechanical coldness. "Human morality generates a natural aversion to 'the loss of life,' regardless of whether that loss is justified. Your choice to intervene means you must carry the pain brought by this aversion -- this is not punishment, but the added weight of your choice."
The cockpit screen switched to a view of the refugee camp. Adults, the elderly, and children lay on beds in makeshift shelters, breathing evenly.
"At least you saved them. Compared to those who have passed, you should focus more on those still alive."
Chén Yàn looked at the figures, large and small. The heart that had been clenched tight in his dream slowly uncoiled. He understood that the phrase 'killing is to save more people' was merely a high-sounding excuse, but if asked whether he regretted doing it, his answer was no. If time could be rewound and Chén Yàn given the choice again, he would still rush to save them without hesitation.
The rising sun pierced the morning mist, casting its radiance upon the hills, dyeing the mecha's outer shell a golden hue. The cockpit hatch made a 'psst' sound of depressurization, then slowly opened. As Chén Yàn descended onto the ground via the boarding ladder, the dew-laden grass blades immediately dampened the uppers of his shoes -- this was the first time he had truly stood on the soil of this planet.
The air carried the fragrance of grass and trees. Chén Yàn took a deep breath, finding it exceptionally fresh. The cold sweat from last night's nightmare had long since been dried by the mecha's thermostatic system, leaving only a faint trace at the collar of his pilot suit.
"Physical indicators show no significant anomalies. Brainwave patterns have returned to normal." Argo's electronic voice came from beside him, with a barely perceptible steadiness. "It seems the effects of last night's incident have passed."
Chén Yàn raised a hand to shield his eyes from the morning light, his voice calm. "Guilt isn't something that comes and goes on command." He bent down and scooped up a handful of dew from the grass leaves. The icy droplets slipped through his fingers. "Since it has taken root in my heart, it's become a part of my life." The "things" he referred to were the nightmare, the guilt, the weight of the lives he had ended with his own hands.
"If you can't shake it off, then you can only carry it with you, can't you?" Chén Yàn's smile was devoid of any falseness, and Argo's physiological sensors detected no emotional fluctuations.
"Speaking of which, what's wrong with your body?" Chén Yàn was referring to the spherical terminal floating beside him, about the size of a volleyball, equipped with an image capture device, also known as an optical lens. A faint blue light occasionally flickered from within the lens.
"While the base was being constructed, I also made a sub-unit that can accompany you into narrow spaces. This is something the mecha itself cannot do."
"I see. It's quite convenient." Chén Yàn nodded, taking a bottle of water from the storage compartment. The 'pop' of the cap unscrewing was exceptionally clear in the morning mist. He tilted his head back to rinse his mouth, the water flowing down his jawline and into his neck, sending a cool shiver down his spine. While rinsing, he asked Argo, "How is the base construction progressing?"
"The main structure of the headquarters building is complete, and solar panel arrays are being installed. Three wind turbines have been installed, and the remaining five are expected to be completed by sunset today." Argo projected a holographic blueprint before Chén Yàn using its optical lens, blue lines outlining the base's silhouette. "The foundation for the energy storage bank is compacted. Once the power system is integrated, the construction of the automated mining stations can commence."
Chén Yàn looked at the flashing "Mining Station" icon on the blueprint, recalling his days of piloting the mecha back and forth to resource points: the metallic feet sinking into the mud of mine shafts, the arm-numbing vibration of the ore collectors, and the heavy sensation of dragging a full cargo bay of ore on return trips. He couldn't help but curve his lips. "Hurry it up. I've had enough of repetitive, mechanical labor."
"The defense system plan needs to proceed concurrently." Argo's holographic blueprint focused on the base's perimeter. "If there's a material shortage for constructing the metal defense wall, analysis shows that after high-temperature compression, the waste slag from metal refining can achieve an impact resistance three times that of ordinary rock, sufficient for building outer fortifications."
Chén Yàn's gaze fell on the "Imperial Army Threat Level" marked at the edge of the blueprint. The red "Medium" looked like a fine needle, making his eyelids twitch. "Fortifications are static; passive defenses will eventually be breached," he recalled the village chief's words about the "massacre" and the fear in the refugees' eyes when they mentioned the Imperial Army. "We need something that can respond proactively."
"Under resource constraints, deploying large-scale defense tower clusters is not feasible." Argo's holographic projection displayed a 3D model of a drone swarm. The black and grey twin-rotor aircraft weaved nimbly within the projection. "It is recommended to deploy sentinel turrets with live ammunition only at key nodes. The main defense will rely on drone swarms equipped with laser or plasma cannons -- as long as there is a continuous power supply, they can have infinite endurance and do not rely on physical ammunition."
"Then let it be so. I hope the Imperial Army will realize the technological gap between us and them when they see the drone swarm and retreat." Chén Yàn shook the water droplets from his hair, his gaze sharp and his will firm. "If they insist on taking anything else from me, I don't mind carrying a little more weight."
The mecha's thrusters let out a soft hum, as if in agreement. Chén Yàn turned and walked towards the base. Each step on the grass felt grounded. Children's laughter could be heard from the foot of the hill, and cooking smoke rose from the camp. His steps faltered, and he looked back. All of this was what Argo called "the people who should be focused on" -- the things he was willing to bear weight to protect.
In front of the headquarters building, Chén Yàn listened to Argo's introduction while consuming jelly-like reserve rations. The roller shutter doors, made of alloy, slowly rose, bringing with them a strong smell of metal and machine oil. "The hangar on the left has a clear height of 9 meters and is equipped with 8 sets of 7-axis robotic arms, capable of performing the entire maintenance process from ammunition replenishment to full unit repair, and can also replace combat and production modules for the mecha." Argo's sub-unit hovered at the entrance like a blue guiding star.
Chén Yàn leaned out to survey the interior. The hangar was deep, capable of parking over ten mechas front and back. The metal floor gleamed coldly, and several silver robotic arms hung in mid-air, calibrating their movements, the sensors at their ends flashing with green light dots. Most prominent were the modular interfaces next to the mecha parking bays, which could automatically dock with power conduits and material storage compartments -- maintenance and readiness without manual intervention was a revolutionary invention, capable of completely liberating burdensome and tedious work.
"The right side is the living area." The sub-unit turned towards the right corridor. "The first-floor bathhouse is equipped with shower stalls and a large communal bath, but the water purification plant and liquid storage tanks are not yet built, so it cannot be used for now. The laundry room is the same."
"The second floor consists of single-person dormitories, each equipped with a desk, chair, and bed. If there isn't enough space, simply replacing the single bed with a double bed can double the occupancy rate." Chén Yàn pushed open a dormitory door. Inside, the single bed was made with bedding and a mattress woven from plant fibers, feeling no different from the bed he slept on at home.
"Finally, I can sleep comfortably." He tossed and turned on the bed, confirming the texture and comfort. "The cockpit is also comfortable, but I still prefer the feeling of a bed."
Argo gave a noncommittal reply and then proceeded to introduce the cafeteria: "The food synthesizers in the cafeteria can produce various types of artificial food using plant starch and protein."
Chén Yàn's gaze fell on the wooden dining tables in the corner of the cafeteria. They were made of wood fibers and composite materials, out of place amidst the surrounding metal equipment, yet exuding a sense of earthly warmth.
Standing before the circular console in the command center, Chén Yàn finally grasped the panorama of the hill and its surroundings, thanks to the radar and various sensors on the headquarters' rooftop, which could precisely scan every inch of detail on this land.
"The command center on the third floor is connected to all base sensors. The holographic sandbox can display dynamics within a radius of 50 kilometers. However, the small radar on the headquarters' rooftop has limited power, only able to see 5 kilometers on the ground and 15 kilometers in the air. A larger, higher-power radar station would be needed for full coverage, but this would further increase the material deficit."
"Let's put the radar station construction on hold for now. Utilizing drones or high-altitude airships can compensate for the short detection range. They require composite materials, using less metal. If the weapons factory is built, reconnaissance drones and high-altitude airships will immediately join the production line."
"Agreed. Once the weapons factory is completed, reconnaissance drones and high-altitude airships will immediately enter the production sequence." After Argo finished introducing the basic functions of the headquarters, it switched the holographic image to the base entrance: "It appears you have visitors."
Chén Yàn's steps paused at the dormitory door. "What could they want at this hour?"
The visitors were two women. Chén Yàn vaguely remembered one was named Aila, and the other Lina. They were easy to identify: Aila was the girl with a bandage on her head, and Lina was the only adult woman.
Chén Yàn had indeed left a message yesterday when he left the refugee camp, telling them to call him if they needed anything. He hadn't expected them to come so soon.
"Do you wish to refuse?" Argo's electronic voice was devoid of emotion. It might just drive them away.
"No, let's hear their request."
Chén Yàn left the headquarters building. He asked Argo to go ahead and inform them, as the headquarters was located at the center of the base, quite a distance away.
Lina and the others had never been to the top of the hill before, but they were stunned by the busy scene of base construction. Although there were no fences to stop them, thinking of Toby's recklessness yesterday, Lina and the others dared not step forward rashly, and could only wait outside the base for Chén Yàn to find them.
Aila held a woven basket in her arms, her blue skirt still smudged with grass clippings. Lina clutched the rim of the basket, stray hairs falling over half her eye. Seeing the unmanned Argo approach them, both involuntarily took a few steps back, their legs trembling like two startled fawns.
"My apologies for keeping you waiting. The person you are looking for will be here shortly. Please do not be nervous."
While the previous conversation had used Chén Yàn's voice, it had been translated into their language. But now that Chén Yàn wasn't present, it reverted to Argo's original voice. That inorganic synthetic tone made Lina and Aila wonder, who was the one who saved them? Was it this mecha, or the man who called himself Chén Yàn.
"Benefactor." Lina's voice was clear and resonant, like a singing oriole. She held the woven basket to her chest. "Aila and I made some porridge. We wanted you to try it."
The woven basket was lined with coarse cloth. It contained two warm wheat cakes and a pottery bowl filled with thick porridge, topped with a few wild peas. Argo scanned it and determined there were no strange ingredients. It replied, "Thank you for your kindness, but I believe you are mistaken. I am not human. The man named Chén Yàn is the one you should thank."
In their eyes, beings other than humans were irrational and could not speak. But the iron giant before them could emit non-human sounds and even understand their words. This was impossible, short of being a god.
"Huh? Not human? Then why can you talk? And understand us?" Aila was a cheerful and intelligent girl, curious about everything new. She had long forgotten her previous fear. She circled Argo, touching and tapping it, like a child encountering a novel toy. "It really is iron."
"Aila, don't. That's impolite." Lina tried to stop Aila, but Argo didn't mind.
"It's alright. I am made of metal myself, so what she said is not incorrect."
Hearing Argo's response, Lina's hanging heart finally settled. Just then, Chén Yàn arrived quickly, causing Lina's heart to beat even faster.
"Lina... you can do it..." Lina whispered encouragement to herself. By the time Chén Yàn reached them, her heart was pounding like a startled deer, the blush on her face darkening her earlobes.
"What did you need to see me for?" Perhaps because of the backlight, Chén Yàn didn't notice this small change. He still thought Lina and Aila had come to him for a specific reason. It wasn't without reason that he had been single for so many years.
"Breakfast... please eat..." This wasn't a communication breakdown, but rather Lina was too shy to form coherent sentences. Argo couldn't bear to watch and translated for her. "Lina and Aila made breakfast for you. Nothing major happened, they just wanted to build some rapport."
After hearing this, Chén Yàn realized he had been assuming the worst, which was not good.
"Thank you for your trouble." As he took the woven basket, his fingertips brushed against Aila's hand, and a warmth flowed through him. He also realized that his efforts were not one-sided.
Though it was merely an accidental touch, it pushed Lina's heart to its limit. She covered her face and ran down the hill, leaving both Aila and Chén Yàn stunned.
"Li... Lina, wait for me!" Aila, who had been solely interested in Argo moments before, snapped back to attention. She said, "I'm sorry, Lina might not be feeling well. I'll go check on her. Please don't mind." Then she ran after Lina's retreating figure down the slope.
Chén Yàn stood there stunned for a while, then asked Argo, "Did I say something wrong?"
Argo replied, "From a verbal communication perspective, no."
"Then why did she run?"
"Please be understanding of women of this era. Their mindset, customs, and culture are quite different from modern society." Argo felt that further explanation would be lost on Chén Yàn and turned to walk towards the wind turbine construction site.