A Mermaid’s Guide to Survival in the Apocalypse – CH2

Chapter 2: Escape from the Research Institute

In the pitch-black room, nothing remained except cold panic and confusion.

Xia Yu opened his mouth to scream for help, but no sound came out. In a single heartbeat, his entire world seemed to crumble around him like a mountain collapsing into dust. He could not make sense of what he had just witnessed.

A robot had attacked a human being.

That was never supposed to happen. Nuwa had taught him that every machine was governed by the central artificial intelligence. They were built never, ever to harm people. Their sole purpose was to serve and protect, even if it meant destroying themselves.

So what had just happened?

Xia Yu stood frozen in place, eyes wide, as the alarms shrieked in his ears. The sound was high and piercing, a desperate alert to warn every survivor in the facility that a lethal crisis was underway.

Run! Run!

The alarm rattled him so deeply that his thoughts scattered into chaos. It did not even cross his mind to cover his ears. He could not move at all; his limbs felt as stiff as ice.

On his face, something felt warm and wet. He did not know if it was his own tears or Professor Wang Qin’s blood splattered across his skin.

The robot was killing people. The machines were murdering humans.

A violent shiver ran through him, finally snapping him out of his paralysis. Before him, the two glowing red lights looked like the most terrifying thing in existence. Instinct took over, and his feet began stepping backward on their own.

He had no idea where he was going. His body simply wanted to pull away from the danger, even while his mind had no concept of where safety might lie.

Nuwa! Nuwa, please save me! he screamed silently inside his head. In reality, his lips only parted without a whisper.

Bang!

A heavy crash shook the floorboards. At the same instant, the two crimson eyes vanished from sight.

Somehow, Wang Qin had forced herself back up. Her usually neat, pinned-up hair had come loose, falling in tangled strands across her face. The decades she had spent inside the research facility seemed written into that hair; only the outer layer retained a dark color, while underneath, large patches were pure white.

“Xia Yu!”

Her cry cut through the dark, suffocating room.

The metal chair in her hands clattered against the floor—whether she had tossed it aside or simply lacked the strength to hold it any longer, Xia Yu could not tell. The ringing sound echoed sharply.

Then, her hands grabbed hold of him.

That single touch seemed to bring all his senses rushing back. The terror, the breathlessness, the sheer helplessness—everything hit him at once. For the first time in his life, Xia Yu understood the reality of death.

He had been placed on the operating table dozens of times before, but surgery had never frightened him. He hardly felt pain, there was always sweet candy to eat beforehand, and whatever they removed eventually grew back. In his heart, he had never truly believed he could die—that one day he could become a cold, motionless body.

Now, that illusion was gone. He could die. He really could, and it could happen at any moment.

“Run!”

Wang Qin’s command struck him like a physical blow. Xia Yu’s small frame jumped, and every survival instinct flared to life.

Yet he still did not know where to go. Darkness swallowed the room, broken only by the wail of the alarms.

A loud shatter exploded from behind them. Before Xia Yu could glance back, a heavy wave of saltwater drenched his shoulders. The sharp, mineral tang of the sea hit his nose. Real ocean water. He was soaked from head to foot.

On the floor, the robot she had knocked down was already dragging itself back onto its feet. It seemed impossible to destroy, as if it would simply keep rising no matter how many times it was struck. Only now, one of its optical lenses was crushed and dark. A single red eye glared out through the dim room.

Wang Qin saw it stand. She had never expected to kill it; a fragile human could not break steel so easily. Unless the central intelligence issued a counter-command, the machines would not stop their purge.

Her mind had moved much faster than Xia Yu’s. Though she did not know every detail, she had already pieced together the grim reality: the world had slipped into madness.

Why had Nuwa done this? Nuwa was the global core network, built with unbreakable safeguards against command errors. Nobody could have overridden its logic from the outside. That left only one terrifying truth—the artificial intelligence had initiated this betrayal on its own.

There was no time to think about reasons. Her only goal was to get Xia Yu out alive. And if she could manage it, take the specimen with them too.

Moving swiftly, she stripped off her bloodied lab coat and bundled it around the large mermaid egg that had rolled out from the cracked glass tank. The egg was slick and unexpectedly solid to the touch. It took her several tries before she got a firm grip on the fabric.

Holding the bundle with one hand and grabbing Xia Yu’s trembling fingers with the other, Wang Qin dragged him out into the corridor. The laboratory door slid shut behind them. Inside, the one-eyed machine picked up the screwdriver once more.

The noise outside was deafening. Xia Yu panted as he stumbled after her.

The bright, spotless hallway he was used to had turned into a nightmare tunnel. The long rows of white ceiling lamps were completely dead. The only light came from the floor markers, which glowed a harsh emergency red—a color that sent a chill straight to his bones, reminding him of the machine’s eyes.

Flashing red beacons spun every ten meters, throwing wild shadows against the walls. The air vents had failed as well; thick, damp mist that should have been sucked away now poured out of the grates, pooling around Xia Yu’s bare ankles.

The floor felt freezing and slick against his feet.

Worse than the cold was the sound. Screams, desperate shouts, and pounding footsteps echoed through the concrete halls. Without the acoustic baffling running, every noise was terribly sharp. Xia Yu could almost picture the horrors taking place around the distant corners.

And beneath the cries came that familiar, steady rhythm: tap-tap-tap, tap-tap-tap. The mechanical clicks the robots used to speak to one another.

The smell of copper and iron grew heavier in the air. Xia Yu’s bare feet splashed through puddles that felt warm, thick, and sticky. He did not know which way they were heading; he only clung to Wang Qin’s hand and ran. If he stayed with her, maybe they would make it out.

The thought had barely crossed his mind when the hand holding his suddenly slipped away.

Wang Qin went down. She had caught her foot on a fallen body in the corridor, but that was not the real reason she collapsed—her body simply gave out.

Xia Yu fell with her, landing against her chest. When his hands pressed against her clothes, he felt the heavy, warm moisture soaking the cloth. Blood. So much blood.

Under the rhythmic pulse of the red lights, he stared down at his crimson-stained palms.

“Don’t look… keep going…” Wang Qin gripped his wrist weakly, pulling his attention away. “Xia Yu, get up and run. Do not stop.”

“I… I can’t leave you…” Xia Yu knelt beside her, tears welling in his eyes as he tried to pull her up.

This time, she did not move. Instead, she pushed him away with sudden force.

“Go! The elevator is right ahead! Run!” Her voice cracked with urgency. “Once the base is lost, the self-destruct system will trigger!”

The words hit Xia Yu like a shockwave.

“I cannot run anymore,” Wang Qin gasped, her voice trembling. “But I can still… buy you some time.”

Gathering the last remnants of her energy, she shoved the tied corner of the lab coat into his hands. “Listen to me.”

“No!” Xia Yu dropped the cloth and grabbed her fingers, crying openly. “We have to go together! You can’t die!”

“Listen to me!” Wang Qin, who had never raised her voice at him, snapped with sharp authority. She thrust the bundle back into his chest. “Follow this corridor straight to the end. The elevator is there. Take this.”

She pulled the silver access band from her wrist and tried to slide it onto his arm. But Xia Yu was too small; the band slipped right off his thin wrist. Wang Qin quickly pushed it up higher, securing it tightly around his bicep.

“Keep this safe. Do not drop it,” she said, tears tracing paths through the blood on her cheeks. “Use it on the door panel. The lift will take you to the surface. You must live…”

“Can’t you please come too?” Xia Yu pleaded, sobbing so hard he could barely breathe.

“I will hold them off,” she wheezed, dark blood bubbling at the corner of her lips. “Weren’t you… going to take me to the ocean?”

Her chest rose and fell in shallow gasps. “You go ahead first. I will… catch up with you later.”

She forced a weak breath. “Scan the band at the panel. Step inside and hit the red button. It will carry you out. My clearance is the highest level in the sector… it will get you through.”

“I don’t want to go alone…”

“You must.” Wang Qin lifted a shaking hand and extended her little finger. “This is our promise, alright?”

Xia Yu stared at her through blurred vision.

“First… you must save the world.” Her voice dropped to a ragged whisper. “Second… you must raise this mermaid until he is grown. And third… you must go see the ocean for yourself. Promise me?”

Xia Yu’s hand shook so badly he could not lift it. Seeing this, Wang Qin reached over and hooked her pinky through his small finger herself.

“Good boy,” she whispered, her lips trembling. “It’s a promise. Now… go!”

She gave him one final, desperate push.

Behind them, the mechanical footsteps grew louder. Clusters of glowing red eyes appeared through the mist at the end of the hall.

Xia Yu shook with terror. Ever since he was small, he had always obeyed Wang Qin’s words. Even now, frozen in fear, that habit carried his body forward. He stumbled backward two steps, spun around, and ran with all his might.

It was heavy. The mermaid egg was impossibly heavy for a child his size. Yet a burst of desperate energy surged through his small limbs, driving his bare feet forward across the slick floor.

His mind cleared of everything except her three final wishes:

Save the world.

Raise the mermaid.

See the ocean.

Behind him, Wang Qin watched his small back fade into the dim, pulsing red haze. The moment he disappeared around the turn, every ounce of strength left her limbs. She slumped back against the cold wall, tears spilling quietly down her face.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” she whispered into the empty corridor. “You’re just a little jellyfish. You don’t know anything about the world…”

Her shoulders trembled. “Run. Please, just run.”

Behind her, the red lights multiplied into a solid wave. Rows of maintenance machines advanced with cold precision, their metallic limbs stained with blood that ran down their chassis in grim, shifting lines.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered one last time toward the empty hall ahead.

Then, Wang Qin dragged herself back onto her feet.

She turned to face the oncoming tide of steel. With nothing more than her fragile human body, she barred the path—ready to buy Xia Yu every last second she could give him.

The machines might have been made of unbreakable metal, but the human spirit still held its ground.

A Mermaid’s Guide to Survival in the Apocalypse