Chapter 42 Struggling to Hold On

The sky over Florence had completely degraded into a twisted picture of hell. The spacetime rift, resembling an awakened ancient python, was greedily and frantically devouring the surrounding space. Every expansion was accompanied by the screech of tearing air, a sound so shrill it felt as though it could pierce eardrums, making the very skeleton of the world groan and groan under the immense pressure.

Fine fragments of space continually peeled away from the sky like a bizarre black meteor shower, plunging onto the city's ruins and smashing deep, smoking craters.

Old Zhou gripped the edges of the violently vibrating console so tightly that his knuckles turned white as frost. The protruding veins beneath his pale skin resembled twisted tree roots, as if they might crush the cold metal surface into pieces at any moment.

"Energy shield remaining intensity at 17%! The anchor's load has reached its absolute limit!" His hoarse roar, mixed with the piercing shriek of alarms, traveled to every corner through the crackling communicator. His voice was filled with a gravelly mixture of despair and resolute determination. Sweat streamed down his forehead, dripping onto the control panel, where it was instantly evaporated by the high heat.

Ah Jie's arm muscles were taut as he operated the heavy particle cannon, veins bulging like coiled dragons. Every time he pulled the trigger, the recoil made his shoulders ache fiercely.

The scorching beams spewed from the muzzle were like burning blades, continuously cutting down the bizarre creatures pouring forth from the rift.

These monsters possessed shapes twisted in defiance of all reason, their entire bodies covered in a viscous, black-purple mucus that dripped periodically, corroding deep, bubbling pits into the ground.

Every time they were struck, they emitted blood-curdling screeches resembling the cries of human infants. The soundwaves made everyone's eardrums ache, and some even began to bleed from their nasal passages.

"At this rate, the defense line won't hold for five minutes!" His furious roar cracked with strain. His prosthetic mechanical eye flared with a dazzling blue light, data streams flickering wildly across the lens. "We must repair Generator Number Three immediately, or the next wave will tear us down to atomic particles!" As he spoke, he rapidly switched weapon modes, large beads of sweat falling from his forehead to blur his vision.

Before his voice had even faded, a massive spacetime turbulence wrapped in purple lightning slammed into the energy shield like an awakened primeval Leviathan, roaring as it struck.

Amidst a deafening roar, cracks spread across the shield's surface like a spiderweb in an instant, its pale golden light flickering uncertainly, resembling a dying candle in the wind.

Li, the team member responsible for operating the generator, had his pupils contract violently out of fear. Watching the rapidly plummeting energy readings, cold sweat poured down his pale cheeks like a broken dam, soaking the collar of his tactical uniform.

His teeth chattered incessantly as his hands tapped frantically across the control console: "Generator Number Three core overload! The cooling system has completely collapsed!" His voice was laden with a near-total collapse of despair, his body trembling slightly from excessive tension.

Old Zhou abruptly ripped off his protective mask, revealing a face deeply carved with lines of tension and exhaustion, his eyes bloodshot.

"I'm going to manually restart it!" His voice struck everyone's hearts like a heavy hammer. Ignoring the cries and attempts of his teammates to stop him, he resolutely dashed toward the generator.

Shuttling through the corridor filled with electric sparks, his hair stood on end from the chaotic currents. Every step was accompanied by violent tremors of the ground beneath him, as if the earth could split open into an abyss at any second to swallow him whole.

Metal peeled continuously from the walls on either side of the passage, scratching his arms and staining his sleeves with blood.

When he finally reached Generator Number Three, the sight before him caused his breath to hitch. The generator's casing was glowing entirely crimson, resembling a piece of glowing red iron. Molten metallic liquid continuously dripped from it, eating smoking holes into the floor.

Old Zhou clenched his teeth, braving the scorching heatwave, and forcibly dismantled the housing with his bare hands. The exposed internal wiring resembled frantically writhing electric serpents, spitting sparks. A pungent, burnt odor pierced his nostrils, threatening to trigger an explosion at any second.

Holding his breath, his hands operated at lightning speed amidst the flying sparks, disconnecting the overloaded energy module and swapping in a spare part. Beads of sweat as large as peas fell continuously onto the scalding equipment, instantly turning into wisps of vapor.

During the process, an electrical current once almost pierced his heart; he threw his head back and crashed heavily onto the floor, but quickly scrambled back up to continue working.

Meanwhile, the mysterious fog pouring from the rift acted like a greedy corrosive force, frantically gnawing away at the energy shield.

Team members raised specialized neutralizers, spraying them forward. The moment the white neutralizer collided with the black fog, billows of thick smoke erupted. The pungent odor pierced their nasal passages and throats like countless fine needles, causing them to tear up and cough violently.

Yet not a single person stepped back an inch. Amidst the deadly barrage of energy beams and monstrous screeches, they covered each other and pushed forward with difficulty, buying every single second of repair time for Old Zhou.

One member had their arm grazed by a bullet, blood soaking their sleeve, only to dive right back into the fight after a hasty bandage. Another was knocked flat by a shockwave, their head striking a metal pillar; after a brief dizziness, they quickly scrambled back to their feet and resumed firing.

Team member Zhang, in order to cover a teammate, used his body to block a fatal energy beam. His back was instantly charred, emitting a sickening burnt stench, yet he stubbornly refused to fall.

When Old Zhou finally completed the repairs and the roar of Generator Number Three restarting echoed through the area, the light of the energy shield flared brilliantly.

However, before the brief joy could fully rise, a deafening roar erupted from deep within the rift. A spacetime turbulence far greater than the previous one swept forward like a world-ending tsunami, carrying an annihilating pressure.

Old Zhou clenched his fists so tightly his fingernails dug deep into his palms, blood dripping along his fingers, and issued a final roar into the communicator: "Hold your positions, everyone! Even if our energy is exhausted and our bodies shattered into dust, we must hold this line!"

The members of the defense squad gripped their weapons tightly. Though fear washed over them like a tide, the steady light of determination burning in their eyes never extinguished.

They knew that every breath and every movement of theirs at this moment concerned the survival of all spacetime. In this life-or-death gamble with a temporal catastrophe, there was absolutely no path of retreat.

They exchanged resolute glances, passing strength to one another as they braced themselves to face this ultimate test of life and death.