When night falls, the world becomes extraordinarily quiet.
The hustle and bustle of the day—screams, cries, gunshots, explosions—faded away, as if engulfed by something. In its place is a deeper, more primitive silence, the kind that only occurs when humanity collectively loses its voice. There were no car horns, no TV noise, no pedestrian conversations, not even insect chirping. The city is like a huge corpse, slowly cooling in the dark.
Dia leaned against the wall on the top of the building, looking at the quarantine area below.
The lights inside the barbed wire were very bright, and the searchlights illuminated the surroundings as if it were daytime. Soldiers were on patrol, and a group of people passed by every few minutes. They looked tired, but the guns in their hands were tightly clenched. Outside the barbed wire, those who failed to get in had already dispersed - some died, some became zombies, and some did not know where to hide. Only garbage, blood and several abandoned bodies remained on the ground.
"Diego." Xiaoyu walked up to him, her voice low and low, "The children are asleep." "
"Hmm."
"When are we leaving?"
"Wait a little longer." Dia looked at her watch – eleven o'clock in the evening. The patrol in the quarantine area changes posts every half hour, and there will be a few minutes between the guards and the changing of the guard. "Around twelve o'clock, when the guard is changed."
Xiaoyu sat down beside him, hugging his knees and looking at the sky in the distance.
"Diego, you say... Will the world get better? "
Dia was silent for a moment.
"I don't know." He said honestly, "But as long as we live, it's possible." "
Xiaoyu didn't speak again. She leaned on Dia's shoulder and closed her eyes.
Time passed minute by minute. Dia kept staring in the direction of the quarantine area, calculating the route and time of the patrol. At twelve hundred and fifteen, it was time for the change of guard—he saw that small gap, about three or four minutes, enough for them to climb over from the ruins.
"Wake up everyone." Dia stood up, "It's time to go." "
They descended the fire ladder and bypassed several alleys to the ruins. It was originally an office building, but now only a pile of broken bricks and tiles remains, and the steel bars twisted into the sky, like the roots of a dead tree. There was only a low wall between the ruins and the quarantine area, and on the other side of the low wall was a makeshift warehouse full of supplies.
"Turn over one by one, and the movements should be light." Dia whispered.
One by one, the children climbed over the low wall. Dia finally passed, and when she landed, she stepped on a piece of broken glass and made a soft noise. He froze, held his breath, and waited for a few seconds – no movement. The soldiers were still patrolling at the other end.
They passed through warehouses, bypassed several tents, and came to the edge of the quarantine area. There is a clearing with a few small tents and some people who escaped earlier. They were curled up in their sleeping bags, some sleeping, some talking in low voices.
Dia found a small empty corner and asked everyone to sit down.
"We're in." He said softly, "We're safe for now. Everyone, take a rest, and we'll figure things out tomorrow."
The children were exhausted and fell asleep lying on the ground. Afu leaned against Dia's leg, his small hand still clutching his clothes. Xiaoyu also closed her eyes, her breathing gradually steadying.
Dia didn't sleep.
He sat against the wall, watching the scene in the quarantine zone. In the distance, the medical tents still had lights on, and doctors were performing operations on the wounded. Over by the canteen, people were lined up to get water, their faces expressionless, as if their souls had been drained away. A young mother was crying while holding her baby, whose cries were faint, as if they could stop at any moment.
This is the place of 'safety.'
This is the place they had risked everything to get into.
Dia closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Early the next morning, Dia was awakened by a commotion.
He opened his eyes and saw that everyone in the quarantine zone was running in one direction. Someone was shouting something, but the noise was drowned out by the crowd. He stood up and tapped Xiaoyu on the shoulder.
"I'll go check it out. You stay here and watch the kids."
He followed the crowd to the east side of the quarantine zone. Many people had gathered there, all looking outside the barbed wire.
Outside the barbed wire stood a person.
Not a zombie, but a living person. A man, probably in his forties, wearing an olive-green jacket, carrying a large backpack. He stood outside the barbed wire, looking at the crowd inside, his expression calm.
"Let him in! Quickly, let him in!" someone shouted.
"No! There's an order; we can't let anyone else in!"
"He's human! Just one person! How much space could he take up?"
"An order is an order!"
The arguments grew louder. But the man standing outside did not move; he just stood there calmly, as if waiting for something.
Then, Dia saw it.
At the other end of the street, something was moving.
Not a zombie—but a dog.
A mutated dog.
There were more than a dozen, each the size of an adult wolf, and their fur fell out, revealing the dark red muscles underneath. Their eyes are blood-red, saliva is dripping from their mouths, and a low growl comes from their throats. Their steps were very neat, as if they were being commanded by something, and they walked this way step by step.
"Oh my God..." Someone gasped.
The crowd inside the barbed wire began to retreat, some screamed, some cried, and some turned and ran. The soldiers nervously raised their guns and aimed them at the mutant dogs.
But their target is not quarantine.
They target the person standing outside the barbed wire.
The man finally moved. He took the backpack off his shoulder, placed it on the ground, and moved his neck and wrists. His movements were very calm, so calm that he didn't look like a person surrounded by a dozen mutant dogs.
"What is he going to do?" Someone muttered.
The man turned around and faced the mutant dogs. He raised his right hand, palm facing outward, and spread his fingers.
Then, Dia saw the fire.
Not the kind of fire that lighters have, nor the kind of fire that matches have. Instead, it was a hot, bright flame that gushed out of the man's palm, like a fire dragon rushing out of his hand, instantly illuminating the entire street.
The flames swept through the three mutant dogs at the front. They didn't even have time to scream and turned to ashes in the heat. The air was filled with the smell of burning, and the heat wave was coming, and even the people inside the barbed wire could feel the scorching heat.
"What is that?!" Someone exclaimed.
"How did he do it?"
"Fire... Fire spewed out of his hands! "
The man did not stop. He also raised his left hand, and both hands released flames at the same time, forming a wall of fire in front of him. The remaining mutant dogs were blocked by the wall of fire, roaring angrily but not daring to rush over.
A particularly large mutant dog circled around his side and pounced on him. The man didn't look back, and with a wave of his left hand, a fire whip whipped the mutant dog's body and knocked it away. It rolled twice in the air, crashed into the roadside wall, and was motionless when it fell.
The remaining mutant dogs were finally scared. They whimpered, tucked their tails, and ran away.
The street fell silent.
The person withdrew the flames, shook his hand, as if he had just done something very ordinary. Then he turned around to face the stunned crowd behind the barbed wire.
"Now," his voice was not loud but very clear, every person could hear it distinctly, "can I come in?"
Silence.
Then, a deafening cheer erupted from within the quarantine area.
"Let him in! Hurry, let him in!"
"Is he Superman? He shot fire from his hands!"
"Help! He can save us!"
The soldiers exchanged glances, unsure whether to open the gate. The officer ran over, looking at the person outside with a complicated expression—there was awe, fear, and an indescribable feeling.
"Open the gate," the officer finally said.
The gate of the barbed wire opened, and the person walked in. He picked up the backpack from the ground, dusted it off, and glanced at the cheering crowd. His expression remained calm, with no pride or joy, just quietly observing everything.
Dia stood in the middle of the crowd, watching him.
His heart raced—not from fear, but from excitement. The scene of the person spraying flames from his hands replayed in his mind repeatedly, each time making him more certain of one thing.
That person's power and the heat flowing through his body were the same kind of thing.
The person seemed to sense his gaze, turned his head, and looked at him once. Just once, but Dia felt that the person had seen through all his secrets—the heat in his body, the awakening of the Eye of Law, and the voices echoing in his mind.
Then the person smiled and turned to leave.
Dia pushed through the crowd and chased after him.
"Wait!"
The man stopped, turned around, and looked at Dia.
Up close, he looked older than Dia had imagined. Deep wrinkles lined his face, and his temples had already turned gray. But his eyes were bright, like two suppressed flames, ready to reignite at any moment.
"Something wrong?" His voice was low, carrying a military-like succinctness.
"Just now... how did you do that?" Dia asked.
"Do what?" The man raised an eyebrow. "Spit fire from your hand?"
"Yes."
The man was silent for a moment, then extended his hand. His palm faced upward, fingers spread. A cluster of flames rose from his palm. Small, like a burning flower, it leaped and spun in his hand.
"You felt it too, right?" he suddenly asked.
Dia was stunned for a moment. "Felt what?"
"That surge of heat in your body." The man's gaze sharpened, as if trying to see through Dia's soul. "After the aura revived, you felt something in your body waking up."
Dia remained silent.
He did not want to admit it, but he knew he could not hide it from this man.
"...I felt it," he said softly.
The man nodded, retracted the flames, and put his hands in his pockets.
"My name is Zhao Tieshan," he said. "Retired. I used to be in the special forces."
"Dia."
"Dia?" Zhao Tieshan sized him up. "Are you the one from the welfare home?"
Dia was a little surprised. "You know me?"
"Who around here doesn't know Chunhui Welfare Home?" Zhao Tieshan smiled, a few traces of bitterness in his grin. "My daughter used to volunteer there. She always said that there was a child named Dia in the home, very mature and sensible."
Dia didn't know what to say.
"You brought them in?" Zhao Tieshan looked at the children huddled in the corners behind him.
"Yes."
Zhao Tieshan was silent for a few seconds, then patted him on the shoulder. "Well done. But in this world, courage alone is not enough."
"I know." Dia looked into his eyes. "So I want to ask you—how can one make that kind of power stronger?"
Zhao Tieshan looked at him, and something in his eyes changed. No longer an inspection, but evaluation—as if examining a piece of ore, to see if it hid a gem inside.
"What did you feel?" he asked. "Besides the heat, what else?"
Dia hesitated for a moment.
Should he tell the truth? Should he tell this person that he could see the flow of spiritual energy, see through the weaknesses of things, and predict the opponent's moves in battle?
"I can see something," he finally said. "Spiritual energy... I think I can see its flow."
Zhao Tieshan's eyes suddenly lit up.
"You can see spiritual energy?" His voice was low, but Dia could hear the vibration in it. "You can see its trajectory?"
"Yes."
Zhao Tieshan took a deep breath and was silent for a long time.
"Do you know what that means?" he asked.
Dia shook his head.
"After the revival of spiritual energy, everyone can feel changes in their bodies. But those who can 'see' it..." Zhao Tieshan paused, "I haven't seen a second one until now. Do you know what kind of talent this is?"
Dia's heart raced.
"What?"
Zhao Tieshan looked at him, his gaze complex.
"I don't know what it's called. But I know one thing—those who possess this talent, if they survive, will become extremely, extremely powerful."
He extended his hand, and the flames in his palm rekindled.
"So, kid, do you want to learn?"
Dia looked at that flame, watching it jump, burn, and bloom in Zhao Tieshan's palm. He thought of the children in the orphanage, thought of Xiaoyu and Afu, thought of those who died while fleeing.
He reached out and grasped Zhao Tieshan's hand.
"Teach me."
Zhao Tieshan smiled. It was a genuine smile, carrying the straightforwardness of a soldier and the satisfaction of a senior.
"Alright."
He withdrew his hand, took a notebook out of his backpack, flipped to one page, and handed it to Dia.
"This is what I've figured out over the past few days. Not much, but enough for you to get started. Spiritual energy—it's complicated and simple at the same time. Once you feel it, it's yours. If you can't control it, it will destroy you."
Dia took the notebook, staring at the dense handwriting and hand-drawn charts.
"The first step," Zhao Tieshan said, "is to learn to control the heat flowing in your body. Make it obey you, make it flow according to your will. Once you can do this, we can talk about the next step."
"How long will it take?"
Zhao Tieshan looked at him, a trace of assessment in his eyes.
"For ordinary people, about one or two months. Talented ones, one or two weeks. You…"
He didn't continue, but Dia understood his meaning.
"I'll do it as quickly as possible," Dia said.
"Not just quickly," Zhao Tieshan's expression turned serious. "As fast as possible. You know those things out there—mutant animals, zombies, evil cultivators—they won't wait for us to slowly become stronger. Every day, every hour, people are dying. If we want to survive, we need to grow faster and stronger than others."
Dia clenched the notebook tightly.
"I understand."
Zhao Tieshan nodded and turned to leave. After taking two steps, he stopped, looked back at Dia.
"By the way, I forgot to tell you something."
"What?"
Zhao Tieshan pointed toward the distant sky.
"Those lights—the rainbow lights—they're not natural phenomena. They're spiritual energy. Spiritual energy flowing from very far away. And this is just the beginning."
He paused, his voice dropping low.
"Bigger things are still ahead."
With that, he turned and left, disappearing between the tents.
Dia stood in place, watching his back, clutching the notebook tightly.
He lifted his head toward the sky. The rainbow-colored streaks at the horizon were still faintly visible in the morning light, like some ancient, distant call.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and began to feel the heat flowing within his body.
This time, he did not resist it.
This time, he allowed it to flow.
Along his blood vessels, along his meridians, along those channels he had never realized existed, it flowed slowly and steadily.
Wherever the stream of heat passed, something was awakening.
Not just power.
But something deeper, something older—like memory, like instinct, like a mark imprinted deep in the soul.
He opened his eyes.
The world had changed.
Not that it had really changed, but the way he saw the world had changed. He could see the flowing spiritual energy in the air—those tiny, glowing particles, drifting, spinning, converging in the air. They rose from the ground, fell from the sky, emanated from every living being, intertwining into a huge, invisible web.
This was spiritual energy.
This was what Zhao Tieshan had said was the thing that could change the world.
Dia reached out his hand, trying to grasp the points of light. They slipped through his fingers as if alive.
But he was not anxious.
He had time. He had talent. He had a teacher willing to teach him.
He also had people he must protect.
Dia turned around and walked back to the children. Afu was still asleep, Xiaoyu was awake, tending to the wounds of an injured child.
"How is it?" Xiaoyu asked when she saw him.
Dia sat down beside her and opened Zhao Tieshan's notebook.
"It will be okay," he said. "Everything will be okay."
Xiaoyu looked at him, saw the light in his eyes he had never had before, and nodded.
"I believe in you."
Outside the window, colorful streams of light slowly flowed across the sky, as if composing a new prelude for this world.
And Dia had just turned the first page of his life.