Chapter 42
The snow fell with increasing violence, whipping past the reinforced glass.
They were located in the southern hemisphere, near a coastal city, though not sitting directly on the shoreline. Normally, deep winter here hovered around a mild five or six degrees Celsius, with absolute record lows barely grazing minus one or two.
Yet today, the daytime high had plummeted to minus eleven degrees.
And as Yu Yuanzhou stared out the window, a chilling realization hit him: minus eleven was merely the opening act.
This was only the first day.
“Little Yuan, how many days does each of the Seven Heavens last?” Yu Yuanzhou asked, his voice tight. He couldn’t fathom how humanity was supposed to endure not just one apocalyptic catastrophe, but seven distinct horrors compounding upon each other.
“Is it seven days per Heaven?” Tianwei asked, looking at her brother with thinly veiled terror.
“Huh?” Yu Xiaoyuan blinked in surprise. “Who told you it was seven days?”
“But they’re called the Seven Heavens!” Tianwei’s heart leaped into her throat. “Are they not?!”
Clearly, there had been a massive miscommunication. Yu Xiaoyuan had used the term ‘Seven Heavens’ to describe the cataclysms, and his uncle and sister had naturally assumed that meant seven consecutive days of disaster.
Yu Xiaoyuan slowly shook his head. Instead of answering directly, he asked, “How long do you think it will take for ordinary people to realize the apocalypse has actually begun?”
In this nation, the citizenry possessed a deep-rooted trust in their central government. State media carried absolute credibility.
Right now, official broadcasting networks were still cycling through basic emergency advisories.
Yu Xiaoyuan pointed toward the television, where a news anchor was repeating the same message in a rigid, calm loop:
“Citizens are instructed to remain indoors. Do not leave your homes under any circumstances!”
“If an individual in your vicinity suddenly loses consciousness, please isolate them immediately!”
“They must be isolated in a secure, locked room!”
“If you suspect you have been bitten by an infected individual, for the safety of your family, please lock yourself in a separate room immediately!”
“Do not venture outside. Await further official updates.”
“Please do not attempt vigilantism! Protecting yourself and your loved ones is your primary directive!”
The identical broadcast was playing simultaneously across nearly every channel. All entertainment networks had been suspended; variety shows, dramas, and standard news programming had vanished, replaced by the relentless, looping sirens of emergency protocols.
“Stay home! Do not go outside!”
“Protect yourselves and await rescue!”
Rescue? Tianwei thought numbly. Will there even be a rescue?
Millions of people would lock their doors, clinging to that single thread of hope. They would wait, and wait, and wait, until the municipal power grid failed, the water taps ran dry, and the natural gas lines went cold. They would continue to wait until their pantries were completely bare, forcing them out into the freezing streets to scavenge for scraps—only to discover that the world outside was already overrun by evolved, predatory horrors.
The suffocating tension radiating from the television broadcast made the living room feel impossibly heavy.
Yu Yuanzhou stood by the window, his brow furrowed into a deep ridge. He had received Yu Xiaoyuan’s early warning. He had prepared obsessively. Yet even sitting inside a fortified, fully-stocked fortress, his nerves were strung tight as piano wire. What hope did ordinary families have?
He didn’t want to admit it, but recalling the dead eyes of the infected they had crushed under their tires that afternoon, the thought of facing those monsters for years to come was profoundly suffocating.
Tianwei stared down at her phone screen, endlessly refreshing her social media feeds. Platforms like Weibo and local video-sharing apps were exploding with frantic questions.
Is it the end of the world?!
Countless users were begging for emergency medical assistance, posting terrified videos of family members and young children spontaneously collapsing in their living rooms. Heartbreaking clips surfaced of weeping mothers cradling zombified children, unable to comprehend the horror until the creature suddenly tore into their throats.
In peacetime, algorithms would have censored such graphic violence instantly. Now, the videos flooded the public square unchecked.
The server moderation teams must have fallen too, Tianwei realized with a chill.
Suddenly, Yu Yuanzhou’s phone buzzed on the coffee table.
He snatched it up. It was a lifelong business associate.
The man’s voice was grim and breathless. “Old Yu, I reached some contacts in the upper echelons.”
He paused, a heavy sigh crackling through the speaker. “This time… it looks completely hopeless. You need to brace yourself, and do not rely on outside rescue.”
“Almost everyone in my immediate circle has turned into those things. The entire command structure is paralyzed.”
“Do you have enough food and water? Secure as much as you possibly can. I’m mobilizing my security team to raid wholesale markets right now.”
Before Yu Yuanzhou could reply, the man rushed his farewell: “Stay alive, Old Yu!”
“Wait!” Yu Yuanzhou choked out, a surge of frustration hitting him. “Didn’t I explicitly warn you weeks ago?! I told you a Daoist master predicted a catastrophic famine and told you to hoard supplies! Why didn’t you listen?!”
“Who could have known it would be this absolute?!” the man cried out, his voice thick with regret. “It’s my fault… I should have listened to you. I should have bought more grain.” He let out a long, shuddering breath. “Where are you sheltering right now?”
“We’re at the riverside estate. It’s low-density; there are fewer people here,” Yu Yuanzhou said. A thought struck him. “If you can make the drive, you should move your family here. The mansion next door is empty. Little Yuan and I cleared it on our way back; there are no infected inside.”
“Bring your family to my compound. We stockpiled a mountain of provisions. We can watch each other’s backs!”
“Let me think about it. I have to secure food first. I’ll call you back if we survive the run.” The line went dead.
Yu Yuanzhou lowered his phone, letting out a heavy, exhausted sigh. Turning around, he met the anxious gazes of his nephew and daughter.
“That was your Uncle Wang,” he explained quietly. “His son and daughter are both competitive archers and skilled equestrians, and they have solid moral character. If they manage to make it here, their skills will be a massive asset to our survival.”
Yu Xiaoyuan didn’t object, offering a compliant nod.
Tianwei, however, frowned. “Wait… isn’t his daughter still studying abroad?”
Yu Yuanzhou froze, the realization hitting him like a physical blow. He nodded slowly. “Yes… she is. I don’t know…”
Would a father and daughter separated by oceans ever see each other again?
A suffocating grief settled over the room.
Outside the reinforced glass, the blizzard raged on, laying a thick, unbroken blanket of white across the garden.
Yu Xiaoyuan watched the swirling flakes for a moment, pressing his palm against the cold pane. Suddenly remembering a crucial detail, he reached into the Kuntian Jade and pulled out a massive stack of transparent plastic sheeting.
“Uncle, the window seams are still drafting cold air. We need to seal the frames.”
The stack consisted of commercial-grade thermal insulation film he had purchased online weeks earlier. The installation was simple: a layer of white adhesive framing tape was pressed along the window casement, and the heavy plastic film, lined with matching Velcro, was simply pressed into place to create an airtight seal.
It was a cheap, rudimentary solution, but it created an insulating dead-air gap that brilliantly trapped interior heat and blocked freezing drafts.
When Yu Xiaoyuan had ordered the materials, he had pulled the villa’s original architectural blueprints and forwarded the exact window dimensions to the manufacturer to ensure perfect custom cuts. Suspecting the Velcro adhesive might degrade over time, he had ordered massive surplus rolls of uncut film and extra mounting tape.
He had even ordered heavy-duty agricultural greenhouse plastics. Having watched survival tutorials online, he knew that erecting temporary plastic tents indoors was incredibly effective at trapping body heat and conserving fuel. He had bought three large greenhouse kits, two medium ones, and dozens of rolls of thermal wrap.
In the freezing northern provinces, people often hung heavy thermal curtains directly over their entryways to block the biting wind and snow. He had stockpiled those as well, though their fortified villa didn’t require them just yet.
He had been careful not to pull these specialized items out too early. Given the Yu family’s immense wealth, purchasing cheap plastic wrap to seal their windows would have looked utterly bizarre. Deploying them before the disaster would have signaled they had advance knowledge of the freeze, inviting dangerous suspicion and jealousy.
Yu Yuanzhou inspected the mounting instructions and let out a dry, appreciative laugh. “Human ingenuity is truly boundless. It’s simple, cheap, and highly effective.”
“I bought enough to seal the whole house,” Yu Xiaoyuan said, climbing onto a dining chair to begin taping the first-floor windows.
Tianwei followed behind him with a high-powered hairdryer, blasting hot air against the adhesive backing of the Velcro strips. The heat softened the industrial glue, ensuring a permanent, airtight bond against the window frames.
The villa was vast, meaning there were dozens of massive floor-to-ceiling panes to seal.
The family of three worked relentlessly into the night. While Yu Yuanzhou and Tianwei spent hours glued to their phones, desperately trying to contact friends and associates, Yu Xiaoyuan was left to painstakingly apply the insulation films by himself.
But the estate was simply too large. Even with his nimble hands, tackling the entire house solo was impossible.
By eleven o’clock that night, he had only managed to seal the ground floor and the subterranean basement.
Exhausted, Yu Xiaoyuan wiped his brow, glaring at his uncle pacing the study with a phone to his ear, and his sister sitting on the staircase, openly weeping as she pleaded with her best friend over a video call.
The little hamster wanted to throw a tantrum, but he couldn’t find the heart to be angry.
Sigh. Everyone has their own burdens to carry tonight, don’t they?
When Tianwei finally hung up, she was trembling with helpless fury. “I begged her to come here! I told her it wasn’t safe, but she refused! She said she’s driving out to find her boyfriend!”
“Xiaolin?” Yu Yuanzhou asked, emerging from the study. Recognizing his daughter’s closest friend, he was about to ask if Xiaolin’s parents were accompanying her.
But seeing his daughter’s shattered expression, the words died in his throat.
“She’s completely alone now,” Tianwei sobbed, the tears spilling over. “Her parents turned. I begged her to come to us, to face this together, but she wouldn’t listen! She said she trusts her boyfriend to protect her! That scumbag only started dating her for her family’s money and political connections! Does she honestly believe he gives a damn about her now that her parents are gone?!”
“Absolute foolishness!” Yu Yuanzhou snapped, equally exasperated and heartbroken. “Placing blind trust in a silver-tongued opportunist during a global collapse? The outcome is already written!”
“I screamed the exact same thing at her, but she’s so hopelessly stubborn! She hung up on me, and she’s already on the road!” Tianwei buried her face in her hands, weeping uncontrollably.
Having just shifted back into his furry hamster form to head upstairs for bed, the little hamster paused on the landing. Sighing softly, he pattered back down the stairs, climbed into his sister’s open palm, and lay flat on his stomach. Offering premium hamster comfort.
“Waaah, QAQ! I’m so angry!” Tianwei cried, her breath hitching as she stroked his soft fur. “It’s one thing for her to be naive in peacetime, but how can she be this stupid when the world is ending?! I told her there are monsters eating people in the streets! Why won’t she understand? What is that worthless playboy going to do to protect her? Talk the zombies to death?!”
Yu Yuanzhou let out a heavy sigh, rubbing his daughter’s shaking shoulders. “At your age, some girls prioritize romance above all logic. There is nothing more you could have done.”
He gave her a gentle pat. “Take the little hamster upstairs and get some sleep. Tomorrow, we still have to face whatever is left of this world.”
“Okay,” Tianwei sniffled, her emotional reserves completely drained. She had been vibrating with anxiety all day, and having the little hamster voluntarily offer himself as a comfort plushie was the only thing keeping her grounded.
Cradling the furball in her palm, she trudged up the stairs to her bedroom. Laying him gently on the pillow beside her head, she wiped her eyes. “Goodnight, little hamster.”
The hamster curled into a tight, plush ball, shooting her a mild look of disdain, yet his heart ached for her sorrow.
He shuffled closer, pressing his warm body against her cheek. Don’t be sad. She’s a grown adult who made her own choice.
“I know the logic, Little Yuan. I know I can’t save her… but it just hurts so much,” Tianwei whispered into the dark. She was a brilliant, pragmatic woman; she knew exactly what fate awaited a sheltered girl driving alone into the apocalypse to seek out a manipulative narcissist.
Even if Xiaolin miraculously survived the drive and found the man, how would he treat her now that her wealth and status had evaporated?
Worse still, that man’s extended family was notoriously greedy and parasitic. If they truly holed up together, the blood relatives would form an insular clan, and Xiaolin would be treated as an expendable burden.
“She’s completely alone out there… they’re going to use her and throw her to the wolves,” Tianwei choked out, pulling the heavy duvet over her head to muffle her sobs.
Rolling over, she turned her back to the hamster and wept into the mattress.
The little hamster stood up on the pillow. Looking at his sister’s disheveled hair, he let out a tiny, melancholic sigh, and waddled over to press himself against the crown of her head.
He didn’t know how to comfort human grief. Mortals were profoundly strange creatures. Some were remarkably vicious, while others were breathtakingly kind.
Her best friend was an adult. Tianwei had spoken the brutal truth, yet the girl had chosen to chase an illusion. There was nothing left to be done.
The hamster flattened his soft, pink belly directly against his sister’s hair, letting out a long, contented breath as he rested his chin on his paws.
Reaching out, his tiny claws gently tugged at a strand of her hair. Go to sleep. The little hamster will stand guard and lull you to sleep tonight!
Closing his dark eyes, the spirit beast emanated a faint, soothing warmth in the darkness, glowing like a tiny, living ember.
A sudden, overwhelming wave of tranquil exhaustion washed over Tianwei. Before she could utter another word, the tension drained from her muscles, and she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
The little hamster peered down at her peaceful, tear-stained face. Satisfied, he went pat-pat-pat across the silk pillowcase, curled himself into a perfect sphere on the opposite side, and drifted off to sleep.
Tomorrow would undoubtedly bring fresh horrors to face; today was merely the opening act.
Wait!
The little hamster suddenly snapped his head up, bounded off the pillow, and pushed the bedroom door open with his tiny paws.
The milk-tea-colored hamster waddled downstairs, pausing by the empty alcove near the main entrance. Rubbing his cheeks, he promptly materialized a heavy-duty winter snowmobile from his dimensional pocket.
Task completed, he went pat-pat-pat back up the stairs, snuggled against his sister’s neck, and drifted back to sleep.
Must stay close to Sister…
The following morning, the little hamster rubbed his sleepy eyes and padded downstairs.
Tianwei seemed to have recovered her composure; at the very least, she looked steady and focused.
As the hamster slid down the polished wooden banister—whoosh!—he noticed that the windows and doors on the second and third floors had already been entirely sealed with thermal plastic. His sister and uncle were currently finishing up the fourth floor, where their primary water reserves were stored and the central heating had been disconnected to conserve power.
Trotting over to the coffee table, the little hamster found his breakfast waiting: a small plate holding bite-sized chunks of a peanut butter sandwich, a cup of warm peanut milk tea, and a scattering of fresh sweet corn kernels, his absolute favorite.
Sitting on his haunches, the little hamster rubbed his paws together eagerly, picked up a tiny square of sandwich, and took a bite.
Om-nom-nom.
Puffing his cheeks out, he chewed industriously while casting a glance at the digital clock on the console.
9:30 AM.
It was officially Day Two of the apocalypse. The outdoor thermometer read a staggering minus 21 degrees Celsius.
The little hamster lowered his eyes. The temperature hadn’t even bottomed out yet, though it would hold steady at this brutal freeze for the next two days.
Outside the reinforced glass, a thick, unbroken layer of snow blanketed the estate. Hopping up onto the wide windowsill, he sat munching his sandwich, staring blankly out at the blinding white expanse.
“The general public won’t react immediately during the opening days of a collapse,” a voice crackled. The Little Lightning spark suddenly materialized on the sill beside him. “It will take several days for them to accept that this is truly the end of the world, and not just a temporary emergency.”
The hamster froze mid-chew, turning his head slowly to blink at the celestial orb in confusion.
Spirits who were assigned to parallel worlds were tasked with grand missions—some saved empires, others altered the fates of entire planes. And while the little hamster was perfectly suited for hoarding logistics, the truth was, he didn’t like this assignment.
His power was far too limited in this mortal realm, leaving him with an oppressive, constant sense of helplessness.
Lowering his gaze, he took another slow bite of his tiny sandwich.
His sister always went out of her way to prepare his meals perfectly. Knowing he preferred to eat breakfast in his natural beast form, she would carefully slice a thick peanut butter sandwich into neat, bite-sized squares, leaving them on the table for the “little hamster of the house” to find when he woke up.
Puffing his cheeks, the hamster chewed each bite with quiet, deliberate care. His dark eyes were vacant, staring into the distance with that delightfully blank, dim-witted expression he so often wore.
He never minded when humans called him silly; truth be told, he often felt he wasn’t very bright himself.
Take this mission, for instance. It was framed as a glorious cosmic opportunity, one that his former employer had pulled strings to secure on his behalf. Countless spirits dreamed of earning heavenly merit to achieve immortality and ascension.
The little hamster had assumed it would be a grand adventure too. But ever since he had set foot in this apocalyptic wasteland, he had felt nothing but crushing pressure.
“I don’t like it here. I want to go back,” the little hamster mumbled softly, clutching his sandwich as he looked at the spark of lightning. “Even if I forfeit the final mission reward, can I just go home once the first regional Safe Zone is established?”
By then, he could donate his mountainous hoard of provisions to the stronghold, secure lifelong protection for his sister and uncle, and quietly return to the spirit realm.
This mission wasn’t glorious at all; the little hamster simply didn’t want to do it anymore.
Little Lightning floated closer, offering a wry, crackling smile. “You want to quit halfway? I’m afraid that’s impossible. This world is undergoing its final karmic cycle. If you fail to complete your mandate, this plane will be annihilated entirely.”
The heavenly envoy’s voice grew solemn, delivering a cruel truth to the naive spirit beast. “Do you honestly believe any stronghold would honor their promise to protect your family in exchange for your resources? Without you standing guard, they won’t even be able to protect themselves, Little Hamster.”
“You never asked me if I wanted this burden when you dragged me here,” the little hamster mumbled, looking down as he nibbled on his crust. “I just… I find this task incredibly painful. The pressure is too heavy.”
The true pressure lay in witnessing countless good people suffering—people he desperately wanted to save, yet couldn’t.
He was forced to stand by and watch mortals die. Even when he possessed the means to intervene, the strict laws of self-preservation and cosmic non-interference bound his hands. The optimal strategy to complete his mission was to hoard selfishly and look out only for his immediate circle—and that inherently selfish mandate was agonizing for a spirit of his nature.
Little Lightning sighed, settling onto the windowsill beside him to watch the snow.
“I will admit, I did not foresee this reaction.”
Whenever a spirit was assigned to a mortal plane, Little Lightning—acting as the proxy of the Heavenly Dao—was tasked with monitoring their progress and providing guidance when necessary. In truth, the envoy had initially believed this little hamster was the most easygoing and naturally suited candidate he had ever supervised.
The creature had adapted to the modern world instantly. Aside from a brief tantrum over his confiscated celestial hoard, he had thrown himself into survival preparations with remarkable focus.
Yet yesterday, Little Lightning’s heart had skipped a beat when he saw what the hamster had done at the convenience store.
While he hadn’t mentored human transmigrators before, he had heard stories from other cosmic guides. When humans were dropped into apocalyptic scenarios, their first instinct was absolute, ruthless acquisition. They stripped shelves bare, leaving not a single grain of rice behind. If they did leave anything, it was usually a token scrap, purely to disguise the extent of their supernatural looting.
But the little hamster had done the exact opposite. He had consciously taken only half the inventory, deliberately leaving the crucial survival rations behind for the mortals who would inevitably come searching.
At first, Little Lightning hadn’t realized the deeper issue. But watching the hamster hesitate over the shelves, the envoy finally understood the flaw.
The hamster wasn’t bad at his job; he was too good.
He had abandoned the non-perishable goods solely in the hope that desperate humans might find them and survive the freezing winter.
In a world falling to hell, the kinder the heart, the more excruciating the pain, and the heavier the cross one had to bear.
That was why Little Lightning had materialized this morning: to gently urge the creature to harden his heart. It was perfectly acceptable—necessary, even—to live selfishly in this dying world, provided the overarching mission was completed.
“Your primary directive is to assist humanity in rebuilding structural order,” Little Lightning emphasized, his voice crackling with authority. “Focus on order.”
“The Safe Zones?” the little hamster squeaked in understanding.
“Precisely. You only need to ensure that specific individual possesses sufficient provisions to establish a stronghold. When you look at it that way, this mission is incredibly simple. Use your racial talent for hoarding, and leverage the Kuntian Jade’s spatial capacity,” Little Lightning said, gesturing toward the pendant around the hamster’s neck. “If that man refuses to cooperate with your efforts, just say the word, and I will personally strike him with a thunderbolt until he learns his place.”
He drifted closer, patting the creature’s head. “You do not need to shoulder the burden of the entire human race. Just follow your inner voice, and let the rest go.”
“Hmph.” The little hamster grumbled that following his inner voice was exactly what made the mission so exhausting.
Little Lightning fell silent, understanding dawning on him as he looked out at the freezing wasteland.
The paramount requirement for Heaven’s recruitment was that the candidate must be virtuous, kind, and pure of heart. Though his former employers had pulled strings, the little hamster had genuinely met every celestial metric for the job.
And yet, dropping a pure, tender-hearted spirit into a rotting, brutal purgatory was bound to cause immense psychological trauma.
“Sister wanted to run out into the storm last night to save her best friend,” the little hamster murmured, his whiskers twitching. “But she forced herself to stay because she knew we would panic. If she had run out, I would have followed her, and Uncle would have followed me. She chose us.”
Family came first. While friendships were deeply cherished, the brutal math of survival demanded priorities.
The little hamster watched the relentless white squall. “The time is right. I’m going out with Uncle today or tomorrow to sweep for supplies.”
“You’re going out again?” Little Lightning blinked in surprise. “To the supermarkets? That actually makes tactical sense. The sub-zero plunge has frozen the infected stiff, severely crippling their mobility. This is the optimal window for a massive supply raid.”
“No, not exactly,” the hamster replied, taking a final bite of his sandwich. “We’ll hit the grocers eventually, but my primary target is the commercial logistics hubs.”
He remembered a massive regional sorting facility for SF Express located not far from their old neighborhood. “There has to be a mountain of cold-chain freight and fresh perishables sitting on the loading docks.”
With next-day and same-day delivery logistics paralyzed, thousands of parcels containing fresh meats, imported fruits, and gourmet perishables were rotting in transit. If he didn’t secure them now, they would spoil within days. It was far better to vacuum them into the timeless stasis of his spatial vaults to sustain humanity later.
“You really are…” Little Lightning shook his head, astonished that a lowly spirit beast possessed such a sweeping sense of civic responsibility.
“Yesterday, when Sister and Uncle asked me how long each disaster lasted, I realized a major flaw in my intelligence,” the little hamster said, brushing crumbs from his paws. “I initially assumed the ‘Seven Heavens’ meant seven consecutive days, but that’s wrong, isn’t it?”
Looking up at the celestial spark, the hamster extended a tiny pink paw. “Hand it over. I know Heaven provided a cheat sheet.”
“Take it. I was planning to download the core files into your consciousness once you acclimated to the physical environment anyway.”
Little Lightning produced a small, glowing sphere of data and gently tapped it against the hamster’s furry forehead. “Review the timeline while you sleep tonight. And do prepare yourself—you might need some blood pressure medication after reading the plot.”
“Tsk. The cosmic laws governing this world are absolute rubbish,” Yu Xiaoyuan grumbled. He already knew the plane’s consciousness had originally selected the vain, manipulative Jiao Yuwan as its ‘female protagonist’ to save humanity.
“I’ve heard stories from other transmigrators. Apparently, the original ‘chosen ones’ in most parallel worlds usually have something severely wrong with their heads. Why is the cosmic algorithm so terrible at picking champions?!”
The hamster puffed his cheeks out in sheer indignation. “Wouldn’t a capable, brilliant man like Mu Feiyi be a vastly superior choice?!”
“Mu Feiyi? Are you kidding? He was designated as the primary antagonist in the original timeline!” Little Lightning crossed his arms with a crackle of static. “Didn’t see that coming, did you?”
“SQUISH!”
The little hamster squeezed his sandwich so hard the peanut butter burst through the bread! Furious, he threw himself backward onto the windowsill, rolling around in sheer outrage.
“I refuse to work for this garbage-tier world for another second!” he shrieked. “I want to go home! I don’t care anymore! Let the planet implode, I quit!”
Little Lightning floated down, casually swinging his legs over the edge of the sill. “If the world’s internal consciousness had chosen a competent savior in the first place, why would Heaven need to dispatch external contractors like you to fix the mess?”
That… actually made an infuriating amount of sense.
The little hamster sat back up, his anger cooling into quiet, dazed contemplation as he stared out the frosted window.
“But why force spirit beasts to carry the burden?” he asked softly. “This is humanity’s world. This is humanity’s trial. Why doesn’t Heaven just empower a mortal to save their own kind?”
It was a question the simple-minded creature had never been able to reconcile.
The hamster’s dark eyes, though naive and a little slow, were remarkably pure and clear.
Reflected in those glossy depths, Little Lightning offered a helpless, melancholy smile.
“Ah… about that.”
Faint, erratic currents rippled across the envoy’s glowing surface, shedding tiny, mournful sparks of electric light into the freezing air.
