Chapter Fourteen: The Counterattack of the Mysterious Organization

The red alarm in the Central Control Room of the Temporal Management Bureau tore through the silence like a harbinger of doom, its piercing buzz echoing like the final trumpet. The 360-degree holographic star map was instantly drenched in a blood-red hue.

Lin Yu’s knuckles whitened as he gripped his tactical coffee cup tightly. Dark brown liquid spilled and pooled on the metallic floor, its twisted, swirling shape resembling a sinister omen inscribed by fate itself.

The icons of seventeen monitoring stations flickered like dying candles in the wind, extinguishing one after another at a speed visible to the naked eye. It was as if an invisible hand of darkness was mercilessly snuffing out stars. With each point of light snuffed out, the atmosphere in the control room grew heavier, more oppressive. The staff’s rapid breathing intertwined with the alarms, as if the pounding of their own hearts could be heard.

“The Beta Centauri monitoring station has suffered a quantum breach! Shield integrity at 12%!” A technician’s hoarse scream was abruptly drowned out by a sudden explosion.

In the holographic projection, a massive silver disc-shaped ship emerged ghostlike from a rift in spacetime. Its hull was ensnared by black patterns resembling serpentine masks, exuding a mysterious and ominous aura against the dark backdrop, as if a messenger from the abyss itself.

Wherever the ship’s eerie blue beam struck, space twisted and blackened like fabric scorched by a searing iron. The monitoring station’s metal shell groaned and warped under the assault before shattering, fragments scattering like meteors.

Su Yao’s tactical visor automatically switched to battlefield mode, her pupils reflecting the station’s catastrophic collapse. Soldiers wearing serpent masks injected a flickering quantum virus into the main control computer. Crystalline patterns on their necks pulsed in sync with the data stream, a living testament to the virus ravaging within them.

“It’s an evolved strain of the ‘Entropy Serpent’ virus!” Su Yao ripped off her comms headset in fury, slamming it hard against the console. Sparks flew as metal collided with the tabletop.

“They’re deliberately destroying the temporal anchor data!” Her voice brimmed with rage and urgency, the entire control room acutely aware of the dire situation. Biting her lip until it bled, Su Yao’s eyes burned with fierce determination. She silently vowed that these enemies would pay dearly.

The bureau’s headquarters trembled violently. Emergency lights sliced the corridor into alternating bands of crimson and darkness, casting an apocalyptic pall. Lin Yu steadied himself against the wall, struggling through the shaking as he raced toward the armory.

Along the way, a flood of wounded poured from the medical bay. Their horrific injuries were a chilling sight: some bore strange crystalline veins beneath their skin, as if an unknown force was eroding their bodies, the patterns writhing like living creatures beneath the surface; others were undergoing quantum decomposition, their forms growing translucent and ghostlike, limbs flickering as if about to dissolve into the void. Their agonized screams echoed through the metal corridors, each cry a desperate wail of life slipping away.

At the instant Lin Yu grasped the shock rifle, the comm channel crackled with a harsh electric buzz, laced with mechanical distortion. “This is just the appetizer, temporal parasites.” The enemy’s taunt steeled Lin Yu’s gaze. He knew a fierce battle was inevitable. Taking a deep breath, he calmed his nerves, tightened his grip on the weapon, and prepared for the fight ahead.

Director Chen Yuanshan’s hologram forcibly linked into all channels amid the chaos. His white hair whipped wildly in the data stream, the crack in the golden gear medal on his chest deepening—a stark sign of the crisis and his inner turmoil.

“Activate the global defense matrix! All special operative teams, enter Level One combat readiness!” His voice rang with unyielding authority. Yet Lin Yu keenly noticed the temporal stabilizer behind the director emitted an abnormal hum—a warning of impending catastrophe.

“The Third and Seventh Task Forces, proceed immediately to the attacked stations. Recover the core database at all costs!” Though fatigue shadowed his eyes, Chen Yuanshan’s resolve remained ironclad. He understood this was a battle for the very survival of time and space, with no room for retreat.

Lin Yu and Su Yao led their squad to the Orion Cantilever monitoring station first. The shattered station hull drifted slowly through space. Through the portholes, they glimpsed countless black mechanical spiders ravenously devouring the equipment. Purple light pulsed at their joints—eerily similar to the sentry weapons at the mining site—imbuing them with a sinister aura.

“Be careful! Their shells absorb energy attacks!” Su Yao warned just as a teammate’s shock rifle beam was swallowed whole by one spider. Instead of damage, the creature’s size doubled, becoming even more formidable. It shrieked with metallic grinding, brandishing massive pincers as it lunged at the squad.

The silent vacuum of space bore witness to a brutal, soundless clash. Lin Yu unleashed an electromagnetic pulse chain, expertly binding three mechanical spiders together. The ensuing explosion’s shockwave was like an invisible titan’s blow, hurling him against the compartment wall. His insides trembled violently; a metallic tang of blood rose in his throat.

Struggling upright, he caught sight of a serpent-masked commander at the control room terminal, inserting a crystal glowing with mysterious light. Instantly, the station’s power system betrayed them—the defensive laser turrets pivoted and locked onto their position.

The roar of laser cannons in the silence of space was jarringly harsh. Red beams sliced through the void like the scythe of death speeding toward them.

“We must destroy that terminal!” Su Yao’s combat suit was torn with countless gashes; the nano-repair gel crystallized into icy blue shards, glinting amid the battle’s flare.

Her face was streaked with dust and blood, yet her gaze remained unyielding. She threw a magnetic pulse grenade, but just as it neared the target, it vanished into a sudden temporal rift. The enemy’s mocking laughter echoed from all directions: “Do you truly believe you can halt the gears of fate?”

That scornful voice reverberated through the void, dripping with contempt and challenge. Gritting her teeth, Su Yao recalibrated her tactics, readying for another assault.

When the battle finally ceased, the monitoring station lay in smoking ruins, drifting alone in space. Among the debris, Lin Yu found a half-damaged memory chip. The lingering data chilled his spine: a mysterious organization was constructing a cross-temporal viral network, with their next target shockingly revealed as the Temporal Management Bureau’s core reactor.

Su Yao stared at the ever-multiplying red warnings on her tactical visor, clutching the battered shock blade with resolute determination. “This war is only beginning.”

She looked toward the distant horizon, already envisioning the fierce battles ahead, her heart aflame with unyielding resolve.