For humanity, burn the stars.

After opening the underground door, Qin Heling stopped at the entrance.

The soft light was like the last rays of sunset reluctant to leave at dusk.

The underground facility contained complex and sophisticated instruments, all connected in various ways to the elderly men who were as lifeless as withered trees.

His skin was loose and covered with deep wrinkles, his hair was sparse and snow-white, and his bones were clearly visible under his thin skin.

In the most severe cases, the entire body must be immersed in a culture chamber, with the unused organs being replaced by instruments.

But their eyes—those cloudy, bloodshot eyes.

But the moment Qin Heling pushed open the door, everything lit up at once.

He remained silent for a long time, gazing at the scene before him.

As he walked through that long passage, he thought:

How long and agonizing must those former human warriors have endured in order to pass on that tiny glimmer of hope?

What kind of willpower enabled them to persevere for a hundred years in the underground where all hope had been lost?

But no matter what, he still couldn't imagine it.

Now, he no longer needed to imagine it, but witnessed this indomitable will firsthand.

The aura of death is so strong here, yet it is stubbornly kept at bay by an almost unbearable willpower.

The old man near the door, his lips trembling, finally managed to squeeze out hoarse words:

"General Qin..."

His arm had withered into skin and bones, but he struggled to raise his hand and gave Qin Heling a military salute with great difficulty.

"Earth Combined Fleet, Seventh Fleet..."

"Third Division Lieutenant Colonel... Chen Zhenguo..."

"I salute you!"

Upon hearing the address "General Qin" from the other party, Qin Heling felt as if his heart was being gripped tightly by an invisible hand.

He was not the real Major General Qin Heling they remembered.

He was merely a soul from another world, bearing this body and name.

Facing these predecessors who burned their last drop of blood for the survival of civilization, he felt an almost suffocating sense of guilt and heaviness.

However, Qin Heling took a deep breath and straightened his already straight spine.

He raised his hand and, with all his might, returned a military salute as perfectly and solemnly as possible.

Qin Heling's gaze slowly swept over each aged face, as if trying to etch their appearance into the depths of his soul.

Looking at Qin Heling, who was exactly the same as he remembered and whose charm remained unchanged, a tear rolled down Chen Zhenguo's cheek.

Perhaps it had been building up in my heart for too long, because that tear looked so murky.

The other three elderly veterans were not unwilling to salute.

However, their bodies are no longer able to perform such large movements.

So they all did their best to shout out the declaration of the Earth Alliance Fleet:

"Humanity...hope endures!"

Their voices were faint, yet they exploded like thunder in the silent room.

Qin Heling waited quietly for them to finish.

This was the greatest respect he could show.

Then, he slowly walked into the basement and explained in a calm voice:

"My seniors, I cannot deceive you."

"Although it may be a great disappointment to you... I am not Major General Qin Heling."

Qin Heling looked at the old people in front of her, already prepared to receive their disdainful looks.

After all, he was a thief who stole a body and identity that did not belong to him.

However, the gazes cast upon them were still friendly, even respectful.

An elderly man whose lower body had been completely replaced by machinery looked at Qin Heling and tried his best to say:

"But the one we've been waiting for... is you..."

"We...we've heard Mr. Oshido say...that there will be a 'successor' today."

His words were slow, each one seemingly squeezed out with difficulty from the depths of his heart, with heavy, panting pauses.

After struggling to finish those two sentences, he was too weak to continue, but his companion timely took over the conversation:

"We already know the origin of all this..."

"This also includes brain transplant surgery."

"So at the beginning... we were actually... a little disappointed."

The old man's eyes dimmed for a moment, but he spoke the truth very frankly.

After all, the other party has been so frank, so how could they possibly hide what they once thought?

The last old man's entire torso was submerged in a translucent, pale blue nutrient solution, with only his head protruding.

He seemed to have completely lost his physiological ability to speak, and was now emitting a synthesized voice with the help of a mask:

"A soul that grew from behind ruins... without the nourishment of civilized soil..."

"Can they truly live up to the word 'hope'?"

"Can you really... understand what we're carrying?"

Chen Zhenguo's lips trembled, as if he was about to say something.

This time, however, he forced a smile.

"But the moment I saw you, all my doubts vanished..."

Chen Zhenguo stared at Qin Heling, or rather, stared into his eyes.

"Because there's no need to say more..."

"Your eyes are burning with the flames of revenge..."

"You... are angry for us, for humanity."

The flames in his eyes were intense, violent, and unyielding, as if they wanted to burn away all the shackles and humiliations before him.

That's the look only a soul that has truly experienced despair but has never truly surrendered can possess.

All the elderly people present understood the situation the moment they saw Qin Heling.

Because their eyes had also once gleamed with such firelight.

Chen Zhenguo took a breath and, ignoring the warning signs in his body, continued speaking:

"Finally... our 'hope' has arrived..."

Qin Heling stood still, facing the four gazes directed at him, and lowered his head slightly.

His hands hung at his sides, quietly clenched into fists, his fingertips sinking deep into his palms.

He felt an unprecedented weight pressing down on his shoulders.

That is the future that these four predecessors have guarded with a century of solitude, a future as faint as a star.

The burden of countless lost compatriots and the fragmented civilization now rests on his shoulders.

Taking a deep breath, Qin Heling raised his eyes and slowly took a few steps forward.

Gazing at the four senior figures before him, he said in a low voice, with a sense of helplessness:

"No one can wait and find a savior."

"The responsibility of reviving humanity has been entrusted to me, a stranger."

"You guys are really...reckless."

Despite Qin Heling's somewhat disheartened words, the old men's eyes remained unmoved.

One of them even seemed to have a slightly deeper curve at the corner of his mouth.

Because they clearly understand...

A person with those eyes will never give up even the slightest hope.

Qin Heling's voice suddenly softened, as if afraid of disturbing something, and she said softly:

"But you are already very tired."

"Then leave it to me, and go get some rest."

Qin Heling looked around at the seniors and said earnestly, word by word:

I can't guarantee anything.

"Because you should know the harshness of reality countless times better than I have over the years."

He couldn't make any promises, nor was he some legendary savior.

Faced with the reality of human civilization being uprooted and Vera's absolute technological and power advantage, these promises are nothing but empty bubbles.

The elderly people remained silent, looking at him calmly.

They didn't urge or question; they simply waited, just like every day of the past century.

Qin Heling straightened his body, as if he were about to shoulder that invisible burden.

He slowly uttered the only promise he could give, and the most solemn one:

"The only thing I can guarantee is..."

"No matter what, I will give it my all until the very last moment!"

Even though Qin Heling himself did not have this sense of being a savior, he never claimed to be one.

But at this moment, in the eyes of the four remaining human survivors, humanity's savior has arrived.