Chapter 224: Shadows and Echoes
The latch of the holding cell door released with a clunk, echoing softly down the quiet corridor. Lin Qing stepped back, her right hand resting casually near the grip of her sidearm as the woman stepped out into the hallway.
The air outside the cell was crisp and cool, circulating slowly through the primary ventilation shafts. The woman paused for a fraction of a qsecond, closing her eyes and taking a slow, deep breath of the open corridor air, enjoying the brief respite from the cramped confines of the holding room. She didn’t attempt any sudden movements, keeping her hands visible and her posture relaxed as Lin Qing signaled for her to move forward.
"This way," Lin Qing murmured, her voice calm and firm.
Instead of leading her toward the upper administrative decks or near the residential sector, Lin Qing guided the woman down a secondary access stairwell that plunged deeper into the facility.
They descended into Sub-Level 4.
This level was currently completely empty and silent. Following the relentless crawler assault earlier, the lower maintenance tunnels had been washed clean of debris, and locked down by the engineering crew.
The long corridors were cast in dim, amber night-lighting, with heavy pipes running along the high ceiling. The only sound in the vast, empty expanse was the rhythmic, synchronized crunch of their boots against the steel floor grates.
Lin Qing maintained a careful three-step distance behind the woman, her eyes scanning her prisoner’s shoulder movements and posture. The woman walked with an easy, fluid grace, her gaze drifting casually along the industrial fixtures of the hallway without any sign of panic or suspicion.
They walked in silence for several minutes, the quiet weight of the subterranean level wrapping around them like a heavy blanket.
Without warning, the woman slowed her pace slightly, breaking the silence without turning her head.
"So," the woman asked softly, her voice carrying a quiet, intrigued tone into the cavernous hallway. "How is Han Ye?"
Lin Qing froze mid-step, her boots locking against the steel floor grate with a sharp scrape. Her hand instantly tightened around the grip of her sidearm, her body tensing into a combat-ready posture. Her eyes burned with sudden, fierce vigilance as she stared at the back of the woman’s head.
"How do you know that name?" Lin Qing demanded, her voice dropping into a sharp, lethal register. "Who told you about Han Ye?"
The woman stopped walking and slowly turned around to face her. She didn’t look threatened by Lin Qing’s aggressive stance; instead, her eyes held a quiet, somber clarity in the dim amber light of the corridor.
"I know the name," the woman replied gently, her expression completely calm. "And I know he’s here."
Lin Qing’s jaw set into a rigid line. She carefully monitored the woman’s breathing, searching for any underlying threat. "He’s just a child inside this facility. You shouldn’t know his name."
The woman looked at Lin Qing for a long moment, a faint, almost melancholy expression touching her eyes. "Han Ye is not just a simple kid. You shouldn’t treat him as just another child in the dark."
Lin Qing didn’t flinch. She had already observed enough about the young boy over their time together—his unnatural stillness during high-stress encounters, his uncanny perception of danger, and the strange, unyielding resilience he possessed despite his young age. She had already drawn her own conclusions regarding the boy long ago, so she didn’t dwell on the woman’s subtle warning.
Instead, Lin Qing took a deliberate step forward, narrowing the distance between them, her gaze locking directly onto the woman’s eyes.
"That doesn’t answer my question," Lin Qing said coldly, her tone demanding total honesty. "How do you know Han Ye in the first place? Where did you meet him?"
The woman looked at Lin Qing, the corners of her mouth twitching slightly into a quiet, sad smile.
She didn’t offer a direct explanation, nor did she provide a timeline or a location.
"Maybe you already know the answer to that," the woman murmured softly.
The response was cryptic, offering no factual clarity or concrete details, yet the heavy, mournful weight behind her gentle voice hung in the cold air of Sub-Level 4. Lin Qing opened her mouth to press further, to demand a real answer, but looking into the woman’s calm, unyielding eyes, she realized the woman was not going to elaborate any further on the topic.
The silence between them grew long and heavy, leaving Lin Qing quiet, her mind swirling with unspoken thoughts.
Lin Qing took a slow breath, forcing her rising frustration back beneath her exterior. She remembered their last interaction in the holding block, when the woman had said some things that had lingered in the back of Lin Qing’s mind ever since.
"The sister you mentioned before," Lin Qing asked, her voice steady as she tried a different angle. "The one you talked about the last time we spoke... was that me?"
The woman simply looked at her. Once again, no verbal answer came. The same soft, mysterious smile returned to her pale face, her eyes reflecting the amber light of the corridor fixtures while giving away absolutely nothing.
Lin Qing let out a long, quiet exhale through her nose. She realized she was chasing shadows—the woman was an iron vault when it came to personal history, identity, and background. Pushing further along these lines was simply wasting precious time and energy.
"Fine," Lin Qing said, abruptly shifting her posture and dropping her hand away from her sidearm. "Let’s stick to operational facts. If you won’t talk about yourself, tell me more about The Apex."
The woman accepted the pivot smoothly, turning back to walk slowly along the empty corridor of Sub-Level 4, with Lin Qing following closely beside her now.
"What specifically do you need to know?" the woman asked, her tone shifting instantly back to a clear, objective register.
"You mentioned their ’hounds’ earlier," Lin Qing stated, her mind refocusing entirely on the defense of the Research Center. "You said they would send powered individuals to track down high-density energy signatures. How many of them are stationed in this region?"
"Inside this specific territory?" The woman paused briefly, as if calculating logistics in her head. "The regional facility in this sector maintains a specialized task force. There are ten hounds in this general area under the command umbrella."
Lin Qing’s eyebrows pulled together tightly. "Ten?"
"Yes," the woman confirmed. "Though you won’t have to face all ten at once. They are deployed in mobile strike units depending on the threat level of the target base. I don’t know which specific ones high command will choose to dispatch to this mountain pass, nor do I know their exact deployment schedule."
"What kind of capabilities are we dealing with?" Lin Qing pressed. "What powers do they have?"
"Every hound is different," the woman explained quietly as they reached the end of the long maintenance corridor. "All of them possess distinct, heavily modified abilities derived from captured individuals. Some excel at long-range reconnaissance and energy tracking, while others are built purely for heavy physical breach operations and close-quarters elimination. They operate with ruthless efficiency, bound entirely to the directives of their handlers."
She didn’t dive into granular details about specific abilities or technical modifications, keeping the breakdown high-level and focused on the broader threat scope. Lin Qing absorbed the information carefully, mentally calculating how their current defensive setup, ammo reserves, and wall placements would fair against a coordinated team of modified power-holders.
They reached the hatch that marked the boundary of the Sub-Level 4 maintenance ring. The walk had covered the entirety of the empty level, the physical movement bringing a touch of color back to the woman’s pale face.
The woman stopped near the hatch, turning her head to cover a small, quiet yawn with the back of her hand. Her shoulders dropped slightly as a wave of fatigue finally caught up with her.
"And that," the woman said, her voice dropping into a tired, raspy whisper, "is quite enough talk for one night. I am far too exhausted to speak any more."
Lin Qing looked at her, noting the dark circles returning beneath the woman’s eyes. "We’re heading back."
"A wise decision," the woman murmured. Then, a faint, mischievous light flickered in her eyes as she looked up at Lin Qing, offering a lighthearted, teasing remark. "When you come down in the morning to resume your endless interrogation, do try to bring some proper breakfast. These military rations leave much to be desired."
Lin Qing stared at her for a second, her expression deadpan, before a tiny, almost imperceptible shift touched her own jawline. "I’ll see what I can bring."
"I shall look forward to it," the woman replied with a soft chuckle.
They made their way back up the stairwell in silence, leaving the dim, empty halls of Sub-Level 4 behind. They passed through the outer security threshold of the holding block, where the two guards stood sharply at attention, authenticating Lin Qing’s clearance card as the heavy security door slid open.
Lin Qing guided the woman back into her designated cell. The woman stepped inside without complaint, sitting down on the edge of the cot and pulling her legs up. Lin Qing stepped up, securing the heavy physical restraints back onto the woman’s wrists and anchoring them to the frame of the cot with precise, practiced movements, ensuring the knots were firm yet secure.
"Sleep well," the woman offered softly as Lin Qing stepped back toward the door.
Lin Qing didn’t answer. She pulled the manual release lever, watching as the door closed into the frame with a heavy, magnetic lock, sealing the cell once more.
Stepping out into the main corridor, Lin Qing nodded to the stationed guards before walking slowly toward the exit. The air in the facility felt just as cold as before, and her mind was still overflowing with endless, unresolved questions—about the ten hounds operating in the region, about the mysterious woman’s true identity, and about how she could possibly know Han Ye’s name.
Yet, as she walked up the final flight of stairs toward her room, the suffocating, paralyzing tension that had gripped her chest ever since the scout mentioned The Apex had noticeably softened. The threat was still massive, looming, and dangerous—but it was no longer an invisible, unknown phantom in the dark.
For the first time all night, Lin Qing felt a strange sense of clarity settling over her. Her steps felt firmer against the floor, her shoulders relaxed, and though the questions remained unanswered, the heavy weight she carried felt just a little bit lighter.