Top-Tier Omega: Chasing Alpha to the Crematorium – Chapter 92
by Little PandaWu-Zhan Side Story 1 [Extra]
To See You One Last Time
Darkness—eternal darkness.
This was the first sensation Wu Lan felt as her consciousness returned.
She remembered activating the self-destruct sequence of Nightingale VII, the devouring flames that swallowed everything, and the face of Zhan Nansheng flashing before her eyes in her final moments.
“Am I dead?” she murmured to herself, her voice echoing in the void.
[Eligible soul detected]
[Binding Rebirth System… Binding successful]
A mechanical voice suddenly rang out in the darkness, and a blinding white light forced Wu Lan to close her eyes.
When she opened her eyes again, she found herself floating in a pure white space, with a glowing cube hovering before her.
“What is this place?” Wu Lan instinctively reached toward her waist, only to realize she had no physical body.
[This is the Rebirth Transit Station, Ms. Wu Lan.]
[According to the system’s evaluation, you meet the requirements for rebirth.]
Wu Lan narrowed her eyes. “Rebirth?”
[Yes. You may choose to return to a specific temporal anchor point in the past to alter the trajectory of history.]
[The system will provide you with all necessary assistance.]
Alter history?
Wu Lan’s heart gave a sudden leap.
“Can I see Nansheng again?” she blurted out, her voice trembling in a way she herself hadn’t even noticed.
[If you choose an anchor point that is sufficiently early, theoretically, yes.]
[It is recommended to return to the period before Zhan Li took power. At that time—]
“No,” Wu Lan interrupted the system. “I want to go back to the moment Zhan Nansheng… sought her own death.”
The cube’s light flickered, as if analyzing this irrational choice.
[Warning: The danger coefficient of this node is extremely high.]
[You will directly face Zhan Nansheng’s death, and you will be unable to alter the outcome.]
[It is recommended to choose an earlier timeline.]
Wu Lan’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “I know.”
The final silhouette of Zhan Nansheng rose before her eyes—that battle-scarred Jackdaw mech, and that ball of fire that swallowed everything.
Ten years, yet every detail was carved into her very marrow.
Whenever she thought of her Eldest Miss dying in such despair, her heart would spasm with pain.
“I don’t want to change anything,” Wu Lan said softly, yet her voice was exceptionally firm. “I only want… to see her one last time.”
[Are you certain? According to calculations, if you travel to an earlier point in time, there is a very high probability of altering the outcome of Zhan Nansheng’s death.]
“That’s not what she wants,” she whispered. “Zhan Nansheng… would rather die with absolute resolve than live ignobly.”
Just as she would rather depart with hatred than accept a love filled with lies.
[Choice confirmed: Winter of Federation Year 218, thirty minutes before Zhan Nansheng’s self-destruction.]
[Initiating transmission preparation…]
White light enveloped Wu Lan once more.
In a daze, she felt as if she were passing through a tunnel of starlight, countless memory fragments flashing past her—Zhan Nansheng’s unyielding gaze on the training field; the warm breath when their foreheads pressed together on the starship; the stubborn glint of tears in her eyes when she discovered the betrayal…
“Wu Lan… did you ever love me?”
“If I die, will you cry for me?”
These were the last words Zhan Nansheng had left her, carrying all her unwillingness and despair.
And at the time, she hadn’t even been able to give a proper answer.
[Warning: The target node’s danger coefficient is extremely high.]
[The outcome of this timeline is locked. It is impossible to alter the course of history.]
[Do you confirm the transmission?]
Wu Lan’s fingertips trembled slightly as they hovered over the holographic confirmation key.
The system’s cold warning echoed in the pure white space, and the projected data streams displayed a brutal probability: the success rate of altering the course of history was 0.01%.
“Confirm.”
Her voice was calmer than expected.
[Transmission initiated.]
[Target spatiotemporal anchor point: Retribution Fleet encirclement battle.]
[Transmission complete.]
A piercing alarm pulled Wu Lan back to reality.
She snapped her eyes open to find herself sitting in the cockpit of the Nightingale. Outside the viewport was the familiar star region—the very asteroid belt where Zhan Nansheng had chosen to end her life.
On the holographic radar, a single red dot was moving rapidly.
The Jackdaw.
Wu Lan’s fingers began to tremble uncontrollably.
Ten years. She was finally going to see that person again—the one she hadn’t dared to admit she loved in her entire life.
“Communications channel…” She tuned into the familiar frequency. “One-way transmission open.”
Static hissed through the communicator, followed by the voice that haunted her dreams and tied her soul1:
“Wu Lan.” Zhan Nansheng’s voice was cold and resolute. “I won’t surrender.”
Wu Lan’s throat tightened.
She remembered this moment. She remembered what would happen next.
Zhan Nansheng would refuse all negotiations, overload her propulsion system, and dissolve into stardust right before her eyes.
“Nansheng,” she called, her voice so soft, as if she were afraid of disturbing something. “Listen to me…”
“There’s nothing to say,” Zhan Nansheng interrupted. “You’ve lied to me so many times. At least this once, don’t be so hypocritical.”
Wu Lan looked at the screen. Zhan Nansheng wore her Federation military uniform, her face streaked with blood, but a mocking smile hung on her lips.
Ten years, and she hadn’t changed at all—still just as proud, still just as beautiful.
“I know you hate me,” Wu Lan said softly. “But at least… let me see you one last time.”
A soft laugh came through the communicator, filled with bitterness and mockery. “It’s too late, Wu Lan.”
The radar suddenly blared with a piercing alarm.
The engine readings of the Jackdaw spiked crazily; Zhan Nansheng had initiated the overload sequence.
“No!” Wu Lan lunged forward. “Nansheng, wait!”
“Do you remember the first time we met?” Zhan Nansheng’s voice suddenly grew distant. “You said a soldier’s best resting place is the battlefield…”
Wu Lan’s pupils contracted.
Of course she remembered. It was on the military academy’s simulated battlefield. She had deliberately thrown the match to let Zhan Nansheng win a round, but she hadn’t expected the proud Eldest Miss to expose her trick on the spot.
“You cheated!” The young Zhan Nansheng’s cheeks had flushed crimson with anger. “I don’t need your pity!”
Back then, Wu Lan did not know that this stubborn girl would become her lifelong tribulation2.
“Nansheng…” Wu Lan’s voice choked, showing a vulnerability she’d never displayed before. “Please… let me see you.”
In response, Zhan Nansheng resolutely cut off the communication.
“Full power to the backup engines!” Her fingers flew across the control panel. The mech groaned under the strain, its metal crying out. “Force a reconnection to the Jackdaw’s communication channel!”
[Warning: Insufficient energy to support a warp jump.]
[Communication request denied.]
“Then we force our way through!” Wu Lan slammed down the overload valve. The mech shot forward like an arrow from a bow, charging straight into the thickest barrage of artillery fire.
When the Nightingale broke through the final net of firepower, the silhouette of the Jackdaw finally appeared clearly on the holographic screen. The mech’s right arm was already broken, its armor covered in scorched scars from ion cannons, yet it still stubbornly maintained its combat stance.
Just like its master.
“Nansheng…” Wu Lan’s throat tightened, her fingertips hovering over the communication key as they trembled. “Please… pick up…”
As if hearing her prayers, the communication screen suddenly lit up.
Zhan Nansheng’s face appeared on the screen. Blood wound down from her temple, staining half of her sharp brow crimson.
Wu Lan’s breath hitched for a second, her eyes filled with nothing but heartache.
“Nansheng,” she heard herself rasp, “I’ve come to see you.”
Zhan Nansheng suddenly laughed. “Is Director Wu here to watch me die? Or…” Her fingers hovered over the self-destruct initiation key. “…do you want to end me yourself?”
The mech shook violently as a stray shell grazed the Nightingale’s left wing.
Wu Lan steadied herself, only to find that the self-destruct countdown had already lit up inside the Jackdaw’s cockpit—
“Abort the self-destruct sequence!” Wu Lan slammed down the emergency docking request. “Let me over!”
Zhan Nansheng narrowed her eyes. “On what grounds?”
“On the grounds…” Wu Lan knew that Zhan Nansheng had nothing left but hatred at this moment, so she could only deliberately provoke her. “…on the grounds that you hate me. Don’t you want to take revenge with your own hands before you die?”
The countdown paused at 02:59.
Amid the hum of the docking channel opening, Wu Lan heard her own deafening heartbeat.
The moment the hatch slid open, she saw Zhan Nansheng standing before the console, the ion gun in her hand pointed steadily right between Wu Lan’s brows.
“You’ve finally fallen into my hands, Director Wu.” Zhan Nansheng’s voice was soft, the muzzle of her gun unwavering. “One last chance. Any final words?”
Wu Lan slowly raised her hands, walking toward the muzzle step by step.
“I really was lying to you this whole time,” Wu Lan stopped a step away from the muzzle. “Everything was a lie.”
Zhan Nansheng’s finger on the trigger turned slightly white. “Go on.”
“My approaching you indeed was for the Blue Tree Plan, but falling in love with you…” Wu Lan reached out to grasp the gun barrel, pressing it against her heart, “…was outside the plan.”
“You—” Zhan Nansheng’s pupils contracted, and her index finger on the trigger instantly tensed. “Shut up!”
“It’s true, Eldest Miss, I love you. After you died, I cried for you every single night…” Wu Lan suddenly grabbed her hand holding the gun and pressed it to her left breast. “This place… has only beaten for you since then.”
Zhan Nansheng’s breathing suddenly grew heavy.
She should’ve pulled the trigger. She should’ve shot this liar right through the head.
But when Wu Lan’s blood-scented breath brushed over her trembling eyelashes, she found she simply couldn’t bring herself to do it—and that filled her with both shame and despair.
Wu Lan suddenly stepped forward, her arms locking Zhan Nansheng tightly in her embrace.
“Nansheng,” Wu Lan’s lips were almost pressed to her earlobe, her warm breath carrying a yearning unchanged for ten years. “I know you hate me.”
Zhan Nansheng’s body tensed instantly, her fingernails digging deep into the arm Wu Lan had wrapped around her waist, leaving five savage claw marks.
“You can’t face your father, and you can’t face my deception… I understand it all.” Wu Lan’s voice was as soft as a sigh, yet her fingers firmly cupped Zhan Nansheng’s chin as she whispered a promise into her ear: “No matter what you want to do, this time, I’ll stay with you.”
Zhan Nansheng stared dead at her, her eyes as red as though steeped in blood. “What if I want you dead?”
Wu Lan let out a low chuckle.
“Then I’ll die with you.” Wu Lan’s thumb brushed over her trembling lips, wiping away a tear that was about to fall. “Anyway… days without you are no different from being dead.”
Zhan Nansheng’s pupils contracted sharply.
The next second, she bit down viciously on Wu Lan’s lips.
The kiss carried the salty tang of blood. The moment her canine teeth punctured the soft flesh, Wu Lan let out a muffled groan, but she only cradled the back of Zhan Nansheng’s head with greater force. Blood spilled from their tangled lips and tongues, staining both of their chins like some twisted covenant.
“5… 4… 3…”
The cockpit suddenly shook violently as the enemy ship’s main cannon shattered the last protective shield.
Wu Lan tightly embraced Zhan Nansheng amid the shockwave of the explosion, ultimately using her own body to shield her from the flying metal shrapnel.
“Nansheng, look at me,” Wu Lan’s bloodied fingers brushed against Zhan Nansheng’s face. “One last look…”
In the blinding fire, Zhan Nansheng saw Wu Lan’s eyes clearly. There were no lies, no calculations—only a pure, raw pain she had never seen before.
With the final seconds, the mech exploded with a roar.
In the final moment before her consciousness faded, Zhan Nansheng felt Wu Lan clinging to her in a death grip, as if she wouldn’t let go even at the end of life.
At this moment, she finally found closure with everything.
The author has something to say:
I didn’t finish writing, so let me post this chapter first. I thought about it for a long time, and I still feel that given the depth of their hatred, it would be impossible for someone of Zhan Nansheng’s personality to let it go. So, I decided to let Wu Lan die with her this time. Afterward, the two of them can be together sweetly in a parallel universe.
Darlings, I’m so sorry. I’ve never used the free extra feature before, so I didn’t set this chapter up properly. When I update the next parts, I’ll set them up as free extras.
There will probably be another two or three chapters. I’ll finish posting them this week.
Footnotes
- The Chinese idiom hun qian meng ying, literally meaning haunted by dreams and tied by souls, is used to describe someone or something one deeply yearns for and cannot forget.
- Derived from Buddhist cosmology, jieshu refers to a destined tribulation, calamity, or inescapable karmic cycle in one's life.
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