The tide of battle on the screen was turning, plummeting into chaos with terrifying speed. Ye's assault, while frenzied and devoid of strategy, was precisely what made her so unpredictable. Her strength and speed were far beyond the norm, each lunge a mad, tearing force bent on utter destruction.
Xiao Lin's spear, for all its piercing precision, was visibly flagging. Xiang Lie, with his acute perception, noticed the light shimmering along the dark shaft was dimming, flickering like a dying candle in a gale. With every clash against Ye's savage claws, the spear let out a strained, almost mournful groan, and Xiao Lin herself was rocked back a half-step, her face growing ever paler. The petite girl with the massive shield now bore a shield webbed with spider-fine cracks, and a thin trickle of blood escaped her lips with every desperate block. They were… on the verge of breaking.
"I'm going to help!" Xiang Lie's deep voice shattered the room's morbid silence, devoid of hesitation. He pulled the thin blanket higher on Mo, then turned, his gaze like a burning torch, sweeping over the young girls huddled before the screen, their eyes wide with fear, on the verge of tears. "Which of you can transform into a weapon?" His voice was steady and powerful, imbued with an undeniable authority that instantly silenced their panic.
But after the quiet, a deeper helplessness settled. "Big brother… I… I can only turn into a motorcycle…" one girl whispered, her voice choked with a sob. "I… I can become a pair of boots… but, but Sister Ye is too fast, boots wouldn't keep up…" another said timidly. "I can turn into a telescope…" "I… I can turn into a pot…" Their voices grew progressively softer, until they all bowed their heads in shame, tiny fists clenched, hating themselves for being so useless in this desperate hour.
Xiang Lie's heart sank. His gaze swept past these helpless young women, finally landing on the only remaining possibility in the room: Ling. His eyes posed the question without a single word.
Ling felt his intense, unequivocal stare. She whipped her head around, and for the first time, her silver eyes betrayed a profound weariness and irritation. "Don't look at me!" she snapped, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. "Do you think I don't want to go out there?!" She gestured at Xiao Lin, fighting a losing battle on the screen, her voice growing sharper with urgency. "Look closely at the spear in Sister Xiao Lin's hand! See the light fading on the shaft? That spear is 'Jing,' our sister! She's running out of energy!"
"Out of energy?" Xiang Lie frowned.
"Weapon Girls constantly consume energy in their armed form! 'Jing' hasn't had a proper energy replenishment in a long time!" Ling explained, her words spilling out in a rapid-fire torrent. "Sister Xiao Lin is currently using her own energy to forcibly maintain 'Jing's' form! But once 'Jing's' energy is completely depleted, that spear will shatter on the spot! And then, Sister Xiao Lin will be dead!"
Her gaze finally dropped to her blanket-covered legs, a touch of self-mockery and bitter resignation creeping into her voice. "And me… my legs can't provide adequate data support. Forcing a weaponization would severely compromise my performance, or even cause me to malfunction at a critical moment!"
She finished, then looked away from Xiang Lie, redirecting her gaze back to the screen. Her voice took on an almost cold, detached calm. "That's the situation. Whether to use me or not, you decide. I'm telling you upfront: if you choose to arm with me, and I fail you at a crucial moment, getting you killed, don't blame me for not warning you."
A heavy silence blanketed the room, broken only by the fierce sounds of battle from the screen and the girls' stifled sobs. All eyes in the room converged on Xiang Lie, awaiting his verdict.
Xiang Lie listened to her words in silence, his expression unwavering. He simply reached out, his fingers tracing the magnificent 'Throne' of his right shoulder, as if engaging in a silent communion with his most loyal companions. Then, he lifted his gaze, meeting Ling's eyes, a simple, unwavering smile spreading across his face.
"Let's go." Two words. They held more weight than any flowery pronouncement, more power than any grand declaration.
Ling gazed, transfixed, at the smile on his face—a smile devoid of reluctance or hesitation, holding only the purest trust. Her heart, inexplicably, skipped a beat. Then, as if to mask her momentary lapse, she exhaled a long breath, her face once more adopting that familiar, sardonic smirk with a hint of slyness.
"Well, big guy, you're in for a treat," she quipped, beckoning with a finger. "What are you waiting for? Lift me. I'll arm you."
Xiang Lie's face flared crimson again. But he knew this was no time for bashfulness. He braced himself, stepping forward and bending low, his movements clumsy, wary of hurting her. "But I'm warning you," Ling said, her head tilted back, her eyes locked with his, her voice taking on an uncharacteristically serious tone as his arms encircled her waist. "My situation is… unique. Once I'm armed, I might not be able to shield you from damage like Mo did. You'll have to… handle me with care." She paused, then added, almost imperceptibly, her voice barely a whisper, "And… don't discard me." Before Xiang Lie could process her words, she urged, "Quick! No time left!"
Xiang Lie didn't hesitate. He lifted her smoothly from the wheelchair. Her body, impossibly light and pliant in his arms, felt even more fragile than Mo's. The next second, Ling lifted her head without ceremony, and bit down hard on the solid, bulging trapezius of his right shoulder—the very 'Throne' so recently coveted by his young admirers!
"Hmph!" A familiar jab of pain, a strange, draining sensation. Blinding crimson light erupted instantly, drenching the entire command room in a sanguine glow. When the light faded, the girl in his arms was gone. In her place, a sleek, futuristic silver and black pistol rested, impossibly light, in his palm. Its smooth, cold lines, etched with intricate, glowing red patterns that pulsed with an internal, breathing light, spoke of advanced technology. The grip molded perfectly to his hand, feeling like a natural extension of his own flesh.
'MYO-GOD SYSTEM: Trapezius damage detected… Repair protocols initiated…' The mechanical voice had barely begun to articulate in his mind when Xiang Lie clenched the pistol, spun on his heel, and charged for the door. CRASH! The heavy metal portal sprang open, and the deafening din of battle, the strident alarms, washed over him like a brutal tide. Without a flicker of hesitation, gripping the still-warm pistol—Ling's essence pulsing within it—Xiang Lie plunged into the chaotic fray like a charging bull, utterly without a thought for his own safety.