“Gao Qiang!” Zhang Nan barked, his voice sharp and unyielding. “Take half the men and launch a frontal assault. Keep their attention. We’ll flank them from the side.”

Gao Qiang hesitated for a split second before understanding Zhang Nan’s plan. He nodded. “Got it. I’ll draw their fire.”

“Everyone else, follow me. We’ll hit from the left,” Zhang Nan commanded, gripping his weapon tightly, his eyes sharp.

Gao Qiang smirked after a moment of silence. “A counterattack, huh? This is where things get exciting.” He clapped Zhang Nan on the shoulder, signaling readiness.

At Zhang Nan’s order, the soldiers split into two groups. Gao Qiang led the frontal attack, pushing hard to distract the enemy, while Zhang Nan guided the remaining team through the ruins on the left flank. They crept through the crumbling walls and broken cover, inching closer to the enemy command post.

Suddenly, a barrage of gunfire erupted from the enemy’s flank, bullets slicing through the air, narrowly missing Zhang Nan’s team. He hit the ground, calculating the distance left to the enemy command center.

All of the enemy’s focus was locked on the frontlines and the retreating forces. They poured fire onto the route, determined to annihilate the Awakened troops. The commander watched with a cold smile, confident his strategy was flawless.

But then, one of his aides turned pale, pointing to the holo-map’s flank. “Commander! We’ve been breached on the left!”

The commander’s head snapped up. His screen confirmed it—Zhang Nan’s strike team had silently advanced toward the command post. The Awakened hadn’t fully retreated; they had split their forces for a surprise attack.

“How did they get there?” The commander’s expression returned to calm. “So, they found our blind spot.”

But it was too late. Zhang Nan’s team swiftly closed in on the command post, breaking through the outer defenses with minimal resistance.

“Charge!” Zhang Nan shouted, and the strike team surged forward, unleashing a fierce assault. The enemy command system plunged into chaos.

The enemy commander remained collected, assessing the battlefield.

“Retreat,” he ordered, his voice steady but dark. “The Awakened have disrupted our formation, but this is only a temporary victory.”

Zhang Nan’s strike succeeded.

The news of victory sent Suna’s heart racing. Her fingers gripped the comm device tightly, but when she heard that there was still no sign of Li Chuan, something inside her shattered.

Victory brought no relief—only a deeper sense of isolation and helplessness.

Suna stood amidst the ruins of the battlefield, the world around her fading into silence. The chaos of war felt distant. She could only hear her own ragged breathing. Even though Zhang Nan’s assault had been a success and they had won the fight, Li Chuan hadn’t returned.

A chilling emptiness crept over her, devouring her like a spreading darkness.

By the lakeside, the wind howled, and rain fell in torrents. Li Chuan and Suna rushed into a small, abandoned fisherman’s hut. The wooden door creaked as they pushed inside. The floor was covered in dead grass and rotting boards. The simple furniture had long decayed, but for now, it provided shelter from the storm.

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Suna glanced around and laughed softly. “I can’t believe we found a place like this.”

Li Chuan shook the rain off his jacket, replying, “As long as it keeps the rain out.”

They leaned against the wooden walls, listening to the rhythmic patter of rain. The tension that had been pressing down on them began to ease in the confines of the small space.

The rain pounded relentlessly outside, like the whispers of another world. Li Chuan looked at Suna, the weight in his chest slowly giving way to something he couldn’t ignore. He stepped closer, uncertainty flickering in his eyes.

“Suna, I…” His words trailed off as a crack of thunder split the sky, cutting him off.

Suna turned to face him, a soft smile on her lips. “I know, Li Chuan.”

She reached out, gently taking his hand, her gaze warm and steady. “I feel the same.”

Li Chuan froze, staring at her hand, feeling the warmth of her touch. The rain outside intensified, but all the sounds around him faded into the background. At that moment, nothing else existed but the two of them.

But then, pain shot through his chest, as though something deep inside him had been torn apart. His breathing grew labored, and his vision blurred. Through the rain, he glimpsed another world—one torn by war.

Suna’s face flickered in his mind, filled with anguish and despair. Silent tears streaked her face as distant voices of their comrades echoed from across time and space, calling to him.

“Li Chuan... where are you?” Her voice was low and sorrowful, cutting straight to his heart.

Leaning against the worn wooden walls of the shack, Li Chuan stared out at the pouring rain. Inside, his emotions churned like the storm outside. His clenched fists loosened. In this quiet moment, he could almost escape his responsibilities. But then, Suna’s phone rang, shattering the fragile peace.

Suna froze, staring at her phone in disbelief. Her brow furrowed as she answered, her voice trembling slightly. “Hello… Li Chuan?”

Li Chuan’s eyes locked on the phone, a wave of confusion surging through him. The existence of another Li Chuan fractured the calm he had found. His fingers trembled as he tried to reject the reality before him. But the voice on the other end of the line hammered the final nail into the coffin of his denial.

Suna’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. The voice on the phone was familiar—too familiar. It was the voice of the Li Chuan she thought had been with her all along.

Li Chuan stood by the wall, watching the rain drip through cracks in the window. His expression twisted with pain. In that moment, he finally understood—this world wasn’t his.

“This isn’t my world...” Li Chuan whispered, the truth sinking in. He knew now. This world had never faced the disasters, the war, the green sun. Peace and tranquility ruled here, and he… he was just an intruder.

Suna’s eyes filled with confusion and pain. She stared at the man in front of her, his face so familiar, yet there was now a distance between them.

“Who are you?” Her voice was fragile, barely holding together. She gripped the phone tightly as the other Li Chuan continued to speak, but her gaze remained fixed on the one standing before her.

Li Chuan didn’t look away. He saw her pain, her confusion, and it tore at him. He could no longer hide the truth.

“I’m from... another timeline.” His voice was heavy with resignation. “My world isn’t like this. We’ve been through war… and the green sun. And you… you’re in danger.”

Tears slipped down Suna’s cheeks, her mind torn between disbelief and heartbreak.

Though she couldn’t fully grasp the horrors of another timeline, she could see it in his eyes—he wasn’t lying. The sorrow in his gaze was too real, too deep. It was impossible to deny.

Lightning flashed, illuminating Suna’s trembling hands. She looked up at him, rain and tears mingling on her face.

“I don’t understand… but if you have to leave, I won’t stop you.” Her voice was calm, though it carried the weight of unspeakable sadness.

Li Chuan nodded, his voice firm. “Yes, I have to go. They need me.”

Suna’s hand trembled, but she didn’t let go. Tears flowed freely, blending with the rain. Even though she didn’t fully understand, she chose to accept it.

Li Chuan’s heart ached. This peaceful world had almost made him forget his duty. But he knew there was another “Li Chuan” here, and his place—his responsibility—was on that battlefield still burning with chaos.

He gripped the window frame, the cold rain seeping through the cracked walls. He couldn’t run anymore. There were people waiting for him to return.