Day 7 felt heavier than the others.
Not because it was worse in obvious ways. But because the base had survived long enough for people to start thinking. And thinking made fear sharper.
Lan Huan didn't let them rush out as a mob.
He took He Li and He Chenyu with him right away. He glanced at Luo Yan. "Stay back," he said.
Luo Yan's throat tightened. "I can help."
Lan Huan's eyes stayed steady. "You help by not being seen," he said.
Luo Yan hated that it made sense.
Qin Yi sat up from the tarp, rubbing his head. "If it's someone from the capital," he muttered, "it's either help or trouble."
Lu Ziming stood too. "I vote help," he said. "I'm tired."
He didn't sound like he believed it.
Mu Yan looked toward med lane. "I'll tell Chen Yao," he said quietly. "If it turns into a fight, med needs warning."
Lan Huan nodded once. "Go," he said.
Then Lan Huan left.
Luo Yan didn't "stay back" the way Lan Huan meant. He stayed back the way a person stays back when they still follow.
He kept distance. He used people as cover. He stayed behind He Li's light blur when it flickered on and off in small waves.
The gate lane was crowded again.
Not as bad as Day 5. But tense.
Zhao Qingshan stood near the inner gate, rifle in hand, face hard. Soldiers lined up behind barriers. Civilians stayed back, watching like they couldn't help it.
Outside the gate, someone was shouting.
A man's voice. Clear. Strong. Not screaming like a desperate civilian. Not snarling like a turned.
A trained voice.
"General Lan Huan!" it called. "Open the gate. I have orders."
Zhao shouted back, "Orders don't open metal. State your unit!"
The man answered right away. "Capital Base Forward Command."
Zhao's eyes narrowed. "Proof?"
A pause.
Then the man shouted, "You want proof? Look."
A paper was shoved up to the outer gate mesh. Too far to read. But it had a stamp. An official-looking stamp.
Zhao didn't move. "Paper can be faked," he shouted.
The man laughed once. Not friendly. "Then you're already dead," he called back. "Because the world runs on paper."
Luo Yan felt cold crawl up his spine.
Not because of paper.
Because of how sure the man sounded.
Lan Huan stepped up beside Zhao. His voice was calm. "Who are you?" he asked.
Outside, the man went quiet for a beat.
Then he said, "Zhou Qinsong," he called. "Special liaison. I'm here to bring you back to the capital base."
Zhao's jaw clenched. "And why are you forcing the gate?" he shouted.
Zhou Qinsong answered, "Because you're delaying," he said. "And delay kills the capital's plans."
Zhao's face went ugly. "Plans," he spat. "My city is dying."
Outside, Zhou Qinsong's voice stayed flat. "So is everyone," he said. "That's why we centralize."
Lan Huan didn't react to the words. He looked at the outer gate mesh, eyes sharp, scanning.
He Li did the same, light bending faintly to help him see through angles.
He Chenyu stayed quiet, watching the crowd inside for sudden movement.
Zhao spoke low to Lan Huan, not shouting now. "This smells wrong," he said.
Lan Huan nodded once. "Yes," he said.
Zhao's eyes narrowed. "If he's real capital command, you can't refuse."
Lan Huan's voice stayed even. "Watch me."
Zhao made a sound like he hated and respected that at the same time.
Outside, Zhou Qinsong shouted again. "General Lan. I know you're in there. If you don't come out, I'll list your unit as hostile."
Zhao barked a laugh. "Hostile? We're holding a gate with half ammo!"
Zhou answered, "Hostile is a category, commander," he said. "Not a feeling."
Luo Yan's stomach twisted. That phrase was too clean. Too cold.
Lan Huan stepped closer to the gate and raised his voice. "If you're capital command," he called, "state the pass phrase."
Zhou Qinsong paused.
Then he said, "Jade Thunder."
The words hit Luo Yan like a slap.
That name was supposed to be theirs. New. Local.
How did it get outside the gate?
Zhao Qingshan went still. His face tightened.
Lan Huan's eyes went hard. "Who told you that name?" he called.
Zhou Qinsong laughed again. "You registered it," he said. "Registration is communication."
Zhao swore under his breath. "Damn it."
Lan Huan didn't answer. He looked at Zhao. His voice was low. "Don't open," he said.
Zhao's jaw clenched. "If I don't open, he writes me as non-compliant."
Lan Huan's voice stayed flat. "If you do open, he walks in."
Zhao's eyes flicked to the crowd. Then back to Lan Huan. "So what do we do?" he asked.
Lan Huan's gaze stayed on the gate. "We test him," he said.
He turned slightly and looked at He Li. "Light," he said.
He Li nodded.
Light bent in a thin line, sharpening vision through the mesh. Not flashy. Just enough for Lan Huan to see outside better.
Luo Yan leaned without meaning to, trying to see too.
In the gap between bodies outside, he saw Zhou Qinsong.
A tall man in a clean coat. Dry, somehow, like he hadn't been in the rain. Hair neat. Face calm.
Too calm.
Behind him were soldiers.
Not city soldiers.
Their stance was wrong. Their gear was too clean. Their eyes too steady.
And between their boots, right at the edge of the outer barrier, lay a body.
A civilian.
Face down.
Not moving.
Zhou Qinsong noticed Lan Huan's gaze shift.
He smiled.
Then he said, loud enough for everyone to hear, "General Lan. Don't make me waste more lives for a door."
Zhao's face went pale with rage. "You killed someone to threaten us?"
Zhou Qinsong shrugged. "He was going to die anyway," he said. "I made him useful."
The crowd inside the base went silent.
Even civilians who hated soldiers didn't know what to do with that.
Lan Huan's voice went cold. "You're not here to help," he called.
Zhou Qinsong smiled wider. "I'm here to collect," he said.
And then, behind Zhou Qinsong, a fast scream rose in the rain.
Not one.
Several.
Zhou Qinsong didn't turn his head.
He didn't even flinch.
He just smiled at the gate like he knew the screams wouldn't touch him.
Because he had brought them.