Doomsday Wonderland

Chapter 1626: Short Film

Chapter 1626: Short Film

Is this a trap? Or is she being sincere?

After all, the other party was an imperial citizen. Being captured as a suspected threat versus being captured as a posthuman could lead to entirely different fates... She should escape now, before Dong Luorong came out of the bedroom, right?

The thought was clear, but Xie Feng still remained seated on the couch, motionless. Curiosity was part of it, but the other reason was simple: she was too exhausted—this day had stretched far too long.

"Oh, you didn't run?"

Dong Luorong emerged from the bedroom, carrying an armful of items. She seemed slightly surprised to see Xie Feng still there.

Xie Feng gave an awkward smile.

"Change into this," Dong Luorong said, tossing her a set of pajamas. "Wearing damp clothes must feel miserable. Take a shower while you're at it."

It was miserable.

"And since we're going to watch a movie, it's better to be comfortable."

A movie? Weren't they just talking about investing in posthumans? Xie Feng grumbled to herself as she went into the bathroom, rinsed off, and put on the pajamas. Strangely, because this was a hotel rather than a home, she didn't feel like she was invading someone's personal space. The sleeves and pant legs were a bit too long, and the fabric felt slick and cold against her skin, making her sneeze.

It was freezing—Dong Luorong seemed to prefer keeping the room at a temperature few humans would find comfortable.

Shivering, Xie Feng returned to the living room. Outside the floor-to-ceiling window, the gray sheets of rain draped over the city like a giant curtain. In the soft sound of rainfall, it felt as if only she and Dong Luorong existed in the world.

It was already five or six in the evening, but the dimness outside made it seem like a dream hovering between sleep and wakefulness. Dong Luorong sat on the sofa, her face etched with the subtle play of dim twilight, which picked out the contours of her bones in a way that made her features look like the pale surface of plaster—like the tombstone of a dying sun.

It was hard to believe that she and the fat man on the train were both human.

In front of Dong Luorong was an open laptop. It looked barely used, with a spotless interface that still displayed the original welcome message from the day it was purchased. Aside from that, it contained nothing.

Xie Feng sat down beside her, feeling herself drawn into that strange, almost-fermented scent that seemed to cling to Dong Luorong—as if she were a flower on the verge of withering, needing the cold air to slow her decay and hold onto her time in this world just a little longer.

"What are we watching?" Xie Feng asked, unable to hold back her curiosity. "And I still don't understand what you meant earlier about investing in posthumans..."

Dong Luorong didn't answer. She clicked open a video, one that Xie Feng recognized immediately. Everyone in the world, she was afraid, knew it by heart.

It was the warning broadcast from their neighboring star—a short film just under ten minutes long, an unusually lengthy transmission by interstellar standards.

"Eight minutes and forty seconds in total," Dong Luorong said as she pressed play. "The first six minutes and fifteen seconds are spent introducing the situation and stressing its authenticity."

Xie Feng hugged a throw pillow, leaning in to watch the screen, still dazed. 'What is even happening right now? Just a few hours ago, wasn't I looking for a smuggler to arrange an illegal crossing?' The world was so unpredictable.

"I am Lan Lingte, head of external affairs," a middle-aged woman, her attire distinctly characteristic of the neighboring star system, spoke hurriedly into the camera, struggling to maintain composure despite her evident urgency. She switched to another language mid-sentence. "The current date is Fire Period, Day 3, Year 3723 of the Dawnstar Calendar... Five periods ago, our planet experienced an apocalypse. This is a warning message! Please listen—this is not a joke. This is a real warning, a plea for help!"

Xie Feng barely needed the subtitles anymore. She had seen this warning film broadcast countless times on TV and the internet. But Dong Luorong remained fixed on the screen, her eyes unblinking, as if she were watching it for the first time.

"A large number of people on our planet have developed extraordinary abilities. These individuals are referred to as 'posthuman.' Their powers are incredibly destructive and defy scientific explanation. For example—"

Lan Lingte grabbed a newspaper from off-screen, holding it up to the camera. Her voice trembled as it came from behind the paper. "Do you see this? On Oxygen Period, Day 49, a man infiltrated the Star Council during a meeting—yes, just one man. He made his way through multiple layers of security and defense. This seemingly ordinary person... everywhere he walked..."

Her voice faltered, hands gripping the paper so tightly it crinkled under her fingers. Even so, the newspaper's large front-page photo remained visible—a man hunched slightly forward, one hand raised mid-air, his actions unclear. Behind him, two columns stretched impossibly outward from their centers, like a malicious prank from a poorly doctored image.

Overlaid on the footage were translated lines summarizing the news: "Journalist risks life to capture a shot of the man who can reshape objects from a distance. Star Council's right wing collapses; casualties unknown!"

The exclamation mark at the end was jarring.

"I've lost count of how many facilities and departments have been..." Lan Lingte choked, struggling to get the word out. "...destroyed. There is no doubt that this world is ending. And the culprit..."

She buried her face in her hands, and after a few seconds, she managed to regain her composure. But when she spoke again, she couldn't suppress the anger in her voice. "Those posthumans show no mercy or respect for our home. They fight to seize resources and run wild everywhere. Our stockpiles—everything from raw materials to medical supplies—have been completely looted!

"We haven't been able to track casualties for two periods now. The statistics department stopped reporting... Honestly, that department might not even exist anymore. I don't know. Everything is in chaos, messages can't get out, but rumors are everywhere. No one knows which news is real and which is fake." Lan Lingte gave a bitter smile, shaking her head. "Almost all the facilities capable of transmitting interstellar communications are gone. It's ironic that, in the end, it falls on me to send this message to you on Noonstar."

Dong Luorong suddenly hit pause, freezing the video on Lan Lingte's weary, bitter smile.

"What is it?" Xie Feng glanced at her.

"Do you want money?" Dong Luorong asked, her face expressionless.

Her thinking was completely unpredictable.

Caught off guard, Xie Feng stammered, "What? I already told you, I don't need your money. I can work odd jobs—"

"No, I'm not asking if you want my money," Dong Luorong interrupted. "I mean, do you want to use money in general?"

"Well... of course I do."

"Good. Let's continue then." Without waiting for Xie Feng to respond, Dong Luorong hit play again with a sharp click.

'What does money have to do with a warning about the end of the world?' Xie Feng wondered, glancing at Dong Luorong in confusion before turning her attention back to the screen.

Lan Lingte continued describing the dire situation on her planet for several more minutes. Though the details were barely coherent, Xie Feng had heard them so many times that they almost felt surreal by now.

"In the next section, I'll share everything I know about posthumans," Lan Lingte explained. "First, every posthuman has a different ability. From the locals who've recently begun to evolve, we've noticed that their abilities develop in stages. While these abilities may seem miraculous, those in the early stages are still relatively weak in both power and stamina, meaning our military can still subdue them—for now. However, later-stage posthumans... some of them even carry strange artifacts with them."

Dong Luorong and Xie Feng listened quietly as Lan Lingte gave several examples of the destruction caused by posthumans—examples so bizarre that Xie Feng found them harder to believe with each retelling.

In the final two minutes of the video, Lan Lingte's tone shifted to one of desperate pleading. "This message will take at least six months to reach you. Even if you respond immediately, it will take two years from today for you to arrive on our planet. By then... we don't even know if we'll still be here. But I beg you—please, send ships. Even if there's only a slim chance we survive, even if you arrive to find us gone, please come."

She wiped her eyes and continued, "Our planet has 870 million people. We can't all die. Even if only a few survivors remain, please, rescue them and take them with you. I have a family too—a daughter. If my child lives to see that day, even if I don't, I want her to survive... I believe all of us would feel the same."

Dong Luorong hit pause again. She remained silent, staring at the screen where Lan Lingte's face, etched with anxiety, fear, and exhaustion, remained frozen. After a moment, she quietly resumed the final part of the film.

"If no survivors remain," Lan Lingte went on, "at least you'll be able to witness what happened to our planet and learn from it, so that others may avoid the same fate." She shook her head with another bitter smile. "I don't even know what's happening on your planet now. Considering how closely our two worlds have developed, it's possible that your end is approaching too."

Her voice softened into something like a sigh as she said her last words. "After sending this message, I'm leaving. I probably won't ever know what happens next... Goodbye. I'm going home."

The film ended there.

Like every time after watching it, Xie Feng sat in silence for a long moment. Sometimes she really didn't know why she kept struggling. If her world was destined for the same fate, then what did it matter if Tear City resisted the Eirenarch Empire? What did it matter what the Empire had planned for them? And what difference would it make if she crossed the border illegally or stayed behind?'

"We're done," Dong Luorong said, as if wrapping up a mundane task. "What do you think of the video?"

Xie Feng snapped out of her thoughts, unsure of what kind of answer Dong Luorong was expecting. 'What is there to say? Life is unpredictable?'

"I have a thought I usually wouldn't dare say out loud," Dong Luorong said, reclining lazily against the armrest of the sofa, as if her bones had melted away. She raised one leg, using her foot to casually close the laptop and prop it on the coffee table. "I don't think the video is real."