Chapter 39 Space-Time Rift Defense

The sky of medieval Europe seemed dyed in the ink of the abyss, with lead-gray clouds piled layer upon layer like a heavy shroud, weighing so oppressively on the chest that even breathing became heavy and labored. Dull peals of thunder rolled from deep within the clouds like ancient beasts roaring in the fissures of spacetime, every rumble making the earth tremble. Ancient city walls shed fine dust under the sound waves, seeming to shudder in dread of the impending disaster. Silver-white lightning cleaved the firmament like the scythe of death, instantaneously illuminating the ruins of Florence—a city gnawed to the bone by the Black Death. The streets were choked with unburied corpses, the stench of decay mingling with damp rain to form a sickening foulness. At this moment, the location witnessed the ultimate confrontation between humanity and temporal catastrophe, the air thick with tension and oppressive dread.

The sharp shrieks of the spacetime detector pierced the curtain of rain, and crimson warning lights flickered uncertainly in the torrential downpour, pulsing like the pupils of death or ticking down the seconds for this battle of survival. "Initiate the stabilization anchors immediately!" Old Zhou's hoarse roar burst out, mingling with the sound of rain, laden with anxiety and worry. The data streams leaping wildly across his tactical eyepiece glowed with an ominous red light, resembling countless vipers hissing and darting their tongues across the screen; every shift in the data tugged at everyone's nerves. The giant mechanical arm let out a deafening roar, its steel joints grinding out dazzling sparks as it slowly drove the stabilization anchor—emitting a faint, cold blue light—into the ground. With every inch it sank deeper, the earth groaned in agony, ancient stone pathways cracking like spiderwebs, and mud-mixed dust splashing onto the team members' protective visors, blurring their eyes as they stared fixedly at the detectors. Some members had held the same posture for so long that their arms were aching, yet they gritted their teeth and persisted. The moment the first stabilization anchor was completely submerged into the strata, a purple-black bolt of lightning tore through the sky, and the numerical readout on the spacetime detector was instantly swallowed by a blinding red light. Everyone felt as though their hearts were being clenched by an invisible giant hand, and an unprecedented terror welled up within them.

"Charge the energy shield generators!" Ah Jie's mechanical prosthetic eye burst with a blinding blue light, resembling two ghost fires from an alien dimension that stood out sharply in the dark. Eight hundred-meter-tall generators rose from the ground, causing a violent tremor as if some colossal entity were about to awaken. The energy veins pulsing across the surface of the generators swelled and convulsed like the blood vessels of a living creature, emitting a high-frequency hum so piercing it made their eardrums ache faintly. The pale golden energy shield slowly unfurled like a protective net lowered by the gods, only to ripple violently the instant it formed, as though a blazing meteorite had been hurled into a calm lake. Temporal turbulence, like a greedy glutton, gnawed at the human defense line with invisible fangs, every ripple mocking this fragile resistance. Watching the instability of the energy shield, the team members felt filled with unease, knowing this would be an extraordinarily arduous battle.

"Warning! Spacetime fluctuations have crossed the critical threshold!" Old Zhou's roar cracked with strain as beads of sweat slid down his pale cheeks and into his tactical eyepiece, blurring the lenses with a fine mist of moisture. His hands gripped the console so tightly that his knuckles turned white. The air in the center of the city's plaza suddenly twisted, resembling a mirror crumpled by an invisible hand, and a tiny fissure quietly manifested. Ink-black mist seeped from it, and wherever it touched, solid stone instantly weathered into powder, emitting a sharp wail as it was sucked into the void, sounding much like the weeping of the earth. The air was filled with a pungent smell of rust and rot—the scent of spacetime flesh being torn apart, making one's hair stand on end. "Initiate emergency power supply!" Before Old Zhou's voice had even faded, team members slammed backup energy cells into the stabilization anchors. The blinding blue light collided fiercely with the black mist, erupting into a succession of explosions like a final chess match between light and darkness. Some members suffered burns from splattering sparks as they inserted the cells, but they brushed off the pain and quickly returned to their posts.

The fissure expanded at a visible rate, accompanied by teeth-setting sounds of metal twisting and inhuman shrieks, as though countless wronged souls trapped in the folds of spacetime were breaking free. Ah Jie hoisted a heavy particle cannon half his height, its weight causing his knees to bend slightly, yet he stood firm. The white smoke venting from the cannon's cooling ports was instantly beaten apart by the rain. "All hands, defensive formation!" he shouted, his voice as deep as a bronze bell, yet failing to mask the tremor at its tail. The team members scattered like agile panthers, their combat boots splashing dully against the damp ground. The knuckles with which they gripped their weapons were white from exertion, and the gazes they aimed down the barrels toward the fissure fused terror and resolve into a blazing fire. One young member, despite his trembling hands, gazed steadfastly ahead, bracing to face whatever was about to come.

As the fissure continued to widen, a terrifying suction force swept outward like a cosmic black hole. Rubble, broken timber, and even rotting corpses from the roadside were ruthlessly pulled in, torn to powder mid-air. The energy shield sounded a piercing alarm, its surface fractures spreading like spiderwebs, every crack greedily devouring the shield's remaining energy. Old Zhou hammered frantically at the console, rain and sweat obscuring his vision, though he remained entirely unaware of it. His reddened eyes locked onto the screen, his throat raw from shouting: "Hold the line! We must hold until the interference team completes its mission!" His voice echoed through the wind and rain like a warrior's final battle hymn. The team members steadfastly guarded their stations amidst the storm, their clothes long since soaked through with rain and sweat, yet not a single one retreated.

Through the harrowing clash between the spacetime fissure and the energy shield, every second felt as agonizingly long as a century. The team members' tactical gloves were long since saturated with sweat, and rain trickled down the engraved patterns of their firearms. In their eyes, fear hung like a heavy haze, but the conviction to protect spacetime burned stubbornly in the dark like an everlasting spark. Before them lay a crumbling defense line, and behind them, the fate of the entire medieval civilization—at this moment, they were the final barrier holding back the apocalyptic torrent, with no choice left but to make a desperate stand, fighting to their last man and their last breath. The looks of mutual encouragement they exchanged passed strength through the darkness, anchoring their belief that united, they could safeguard this slice of spacetime.