CAT Chapter 18: Fly Towards The Infernal Lava
by Abo Dammen“I could never…” Lin Si lowered his gaze slightly. “If I truly intended to harm the Voyager, banning me from all research on viruses and genetics wouldn’t stop me.”
“That’s exactly why,” Madam Chen sighed softly, a faint smile on her face. “Extraordinary talent, much like extraordinary beauty, often invites disaster. What’s more, because of that incident, you have every reason to hate the Voyager. The Marshal deeply distrusts you, and while I believe in your character, I can’t stake the future of this ship on it. Lin, I hope you can forgive our caution.”
“I only feel regretful for Limitless,” Lin Si said indifferently. “And I’m not some kind of genius. Someone like Tang Ning is. I’m just a doctor.”
Madam Chen’s expression grew complicated.
Lin Si continued, “Even so, I didn’t expect the Marshal’s suspicions of me to be this vile. I’d assumed he was simply worried I might band together with my experimental subjects, convince ourselves we’re superior to ordinary people, and disrupt the harmony of the ship. Maybe, if he was being dramatic, he’d think I might one day open the door to Zone 6, lead an army of my experimental subjects, and take over the entire ship. These modified humans are strong, combative, and might even replicate uncontrollably, like something out of those baseless sci-fi novels about humanity’s downfall. But I never expected him to imagine me as some kind of deranged, anti-human scientist, obsessively trying to recreate the nightmare of Berlin Virus every single day.”
“Manipulating people’s hearts has never been your strength. Both the Marshal and I know that.” Madam Chen smiled wryly. She could hear the hint of sarcasm in Lin Si’s humor, but she pretended not to notice.
Regardless of how warm and kind Madam Chen’s attitude seemed, Lin Si knew the third phase of the “Limitless” project was completely and utterly dead.
Ling Yi headed to the database in Zone 8.
Using the information he’d gotten from the colonel, he entered search keywords:b“Lin Si,” “Berlin Virus,” “Interview,” “Report.”
After two minutes of searching, the interface displayed over a dozen results.
He clicked on the first one.
It wasn’t exactly an interview, as the colonel had said. It looked more like a press conference, though the video was unusually short.
The voice of the reporter—or perhaps the host—wasn’t enthusiastic. Instead, it was cool, restrained, even solemn.
“This is the Wilkins Laboratory, established in 2540 under the leadership of Dr. Ye Selin and home to all cutting-edge research on the Berlin Virus. Yesterday, we received a message from the Wilkins Laboratory. They have something of great importance to share with the public.”
The camera shifted, revealing Lin Si’s face.
Ling Yi froze.
That face… it was both familiar and unfamiliar.
He was still wearing the same pristine white shirt, buttoned all the way to the collar.
But the Lin Si in the video looked younger than he did now. His strikingly handsome face was devoid of the cold indifference Ling Yi had grown accustomed to. Instead, there was a soft, comforting curve to his lips.
“Forgive me for not having time for pleasantries,” Lin Si began. His voice was steady and calm, carrying a natural authority.
“But I hope that no matter what you’re doing—whether you’re preparing to protest in the streets, hiding away at home, or contemplating a dignified way to end your life—you’ll stop for a moment and hear me out.”
“Our world is facing an unprecedented disaster, one filled with fear and despair. I am deeply sorry that the City Federation has failed to provide you with adequate medical services or even preventive measures.”
“The reason medical measures haven’t improved is that all the best doctors are here, behind me, working tirelessly to find any possible treatment. Theoretical data hasn’t been released because every life scientist has devoted all their energy to analyzing the structure of this virus.”
“There have already been four sudden deaths in the Wilkins Laboratory. Every ounce of our effort, every drop of our blood, is being poured into ending this apocalyptic nightmare.”
“But I’m not here to boast about how hard we’ve worked. I’m here to tell you that our blood is being shed for you. Every single one of our lives is dedicated to conquering the Berlin Virus.”
“We haven’t given up. So please, don’t give up either. Hold on until tomorrow. Believe that the sun will rise again, and that hope is on its way.”
There was no dramatic inflection in his tone, no rousing calls to action.
He was simply stating facts, making a request.
Ling Yi tried to imagine the cities of that time.
When true fear and despair engulf a population, no matter how powerful an orator might be, their words would only seem theatrical and laughable.
But Lin Si told them that there was a group of people fighting for them, asking them to hold on for the sake of that fight—to hold on until tomorrow.
These words wouldn’t have slowed the virus’s spread even by a fraction. But they must have made countless people, who were ready to end it all, put down the blade hovering over their wrists.
It was no wonder the colonel said this video had been played countless times. For those trapped in a nightmare, it was likely their final source of comfort and salvation.
As if compelled by some unseen force, Ling Yi reached out toward the screen, wanting to touch Lin Si’s face.
But just as his fingertips were about to meet it, the video ended, the screen went dark, and his fingers grasped only empty air.
That night, Ling Yi buried himself under the covers, waiting for Lin Si to come back. But he waited in vain.
He pressed his face into the pillow, recalling Lin Si’s gentle and calm expression in the video. He thought, so Lin Si wasn’t always so cold. At least not back then—not even in such desperate and difficult times.
Something must have happened later—something that changed Lin Si’s personality dramatically.
It must have been something cruel, but Ling Yi couldn’t imagine what it might have been.
The Berlin Virus ravaging human cities was already the limit of the horrors he could fathom.
But he was certain of one thing.
Right now, he desperately wanted to hug Lin Si the way Lin Si had hugged him before. It felt so good, so safe, as if all the danger in the world was kept at bay. He wanted Lin Si to feel that too.
The little one felt a flicker of anger—at the people on Earth.
Lin Si’s words gave them the strength to keep going. But who had been there to give Lin Si that same strength?
—His heart ached for Lin Si.
By the time Lin Si returned, it was nearly midnight.
Data analysis, discussions, voting, detailed planning for the landing—all of it was finalized. Tomorrow, the base’s construction would officially begin.
Everyone was thrilled and full of anticipation, but Lin Si felt a faint weariness.
The “Limitless” project, which he considered one of the meanings of his existence, had been completely shut down. The Marshal’s endless suspicion was exhausting. He would have preferred to climb back into a cryo-chamber and freeze himself for another hundred years.
But he couldn’t.
Lin Si walked to the bedside. Ling Yi had curled into a ball and was already asleep. He brushed aside the strands of hair that had fallen across the boy’s cheek to keep them from interfering with his breathing.
There was no need to check. He knew that the little one had made the entire bed warm and cozy.
He had a strong urge to study Ling Yi’s physiology in greater detail, though the thought remained just that. But if he weren’t around anymore, and someone else took over Zone 6, the little creature would very likely end up on a dissection table.
—Grow up quickly.
He tucked the blanket more securely around Ling Yi. The boy instinctively sensed the movement but didn’t wake up. Instead, he nuzzled against Lin Si’s hand in a subconscious gesture of affection and reliance.
Author’s Note:
Tomorrow, it’s time to grow up!
I’ve changed the title to Cat’s Rose. My chapter views have been growing so slowly, I’m crying… Changing the title in hopes of saving it.
I forgot to set the time for the draft box, ahhhhh! My bad!
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