Wasteland Echoer

The dark red sphere, the gradually rising temperature, the abnormal pure black spots, and the almost forbidden silence time.

After the red "giant grape" expanded to the extreme, Wright seemed to feel that the entire world's time was frozen at this moment.

Immediately afterwards, he looked around nervously. The space around him seemed to have been pressed on a slow-down button, and all humans and machines were moving extremely slowly.

But after only four or five seconds in human cognition, as a bright red light flashed in Wright's eyes, everything returned to normal.

"Did there be an explosion?" Brett patted his ears that were buzzing, turned around and asked the two of them.

"Maybe." Wright was a little confused, but he didn't dare to tell Brett about the strange time stop just now.

After all, for armies and convoys, the Socratic Council generally forbids them from talking about extraordinary things and the existence of magic sources.

"It looks like he might be an unintentional person. No, it's very possible that there is a lost person ahead. Wait a minute, Brett, let me look at the map." Moros said, rummaging through a few items from the military green backpack he carried. Down.

Then, he took out a yellow military map of the Uko Province of the Zine Empire issued by the Sokra Drawing Department, with "Sokra Military Supplies Production Factory" written underneath.

As well as a magnifying glass with some broken corners, and a military compass.

"You've brought enough things, Moros." Wright teased, although it was a bit inappropriate.

"Of course. As a battlefield observer, in addition to recording the battle situation and supervising the execution of tasks, my responsibilities are also to serve as a guide and reporter part of the time. You know, what the city of Sugra is most lacking now is talents, all-rounders like me. Those who specialize are especially lacking." Moros explained with pride.

"Then did your boss give you a promotion? Did you get the salary of three people? Is there any performance? How is the bonus calculated?" Wright asked four fatal questions that hit his heart.

"Shut up, I am here to serve the city, the Zine Empire, and the rejuvenation of all mankind. What do you know???" Moros yelled, a bit broken.

"He has been doing this job for fifteen years. He is still a non-staff member and is often owed wages." Brett added quietly.

Non-staff personnel are still owed wages, which is indeed worse than the workers in that world. Moros is not just 007, is he also a 007 who risked his life?

But I didn't ask General George about his career. Wouldn't it be worse if he was also a non-staff member?

Wright joked inwardly, but due to Moros's mood, he simply shut up and allowed Moros to express himself freely.

After instantly calming down from Wright and Brett's teasing, Moros followed the map and compass directions to search for their location.

"Route 65, Outpost Area A is almost here, 35 kilometers north of the city of Sokra. After bypassing this area, you will reach the Kovo Station. To the north... yes, to the north is the town of Chekavsk and the city of Donusk , further north is the old capital of the empire, Zhnetsk, near the Ruyin River. Our location is almost the same..."

Moros made repeated gestures based on the information from the compass, and finally took out a pencil, drew a circle at the center of the road to Kofu Station, and said:

"It is less than 20 kilometers away from Kefu Station. If there is an explosion ahead, we should wait for instructions from the mission command. Under normal circumstances, if they ask to continue execution, we have to hold weapons in hand to prepare for extreme situations. It would be great if they asked to return.”

"Is there anyone who has returned from the mission?" Brett asked, the corners of his slightly stubbled mouth slightly raised.

"What should I say?" Wright added.

"What I mean is that the convoys rarely return from their missions. After all, to the people of the Socra Committee, both the army and the convoys can be understood as resources. If they are determined to open up this road and railway line If we do that, our mission cannot stop," Brett explained.

Immediately afterwards, he sighed, looked out the window at the position where the "giant red grape" disappeared, and murmured:

"Everything in the wasteland can be called a resource. We are just pawns in the top-level design of the Socra Committee. There is no way. The pre-New Era humans missed the opportunity to eliminate the unintentional people. Instead, we have to pay for them. , enduring the torment of endless danger and betrayal. It would be great if a god appeared and put an end to it all."

While Brett was looking melancholy at the scenery outside the window, a single continuous whistle interrupted his thoughts.

"drop----"

"drop----"

"drop----"

Three consecutive long blasts of the whistle are precursor signals in the steam language of the escort team, reminding everyone to pay attention to the important information that follows.

After a pause of less than two seconds, a single whistle sounded again from the front of the motorcade.

"drop----"

"drop----"

"drop."

Two long blasts followed by a short blast, followed by another whistle.

"drop----"

"drop----"

"drop----"

Three consecutive long tones indicate another character.

"The first sound is 'g', and the second sound is 'o'. The code for the convoy is basically universal in the city. They are mainly based on the common language of the West Continent. The two letters combined are 'go', which means to move forward." Moros explained.

Immediately afterwards, the convoy at the front began to slowly start after receiving the message. In less than two seconds, the entire convoy roared like a wild beast again.

Including the spider-like battle tank piloted by Brett.

"Well, Moros, I want to ask a question."

After the vehicle started slowly, Wright stuck his head behind the car and asked.

"Okay." Moros showed a friendly gesture and a friendly expression.

"Why does this code-like thing use the common language of the Western Continent instead of the Zine Empire language? This is our territory, why should we use other people's languages? Are we a colony of those countries in the Western Continent?" Wright asked a very pointed question question.

"Haha, how should I say it?" Moros held his chin with his hand, thought for a while, and then answered from an extremely correct perspective:

"Maybe it's because of the history."

"History?" Wright asked doubtfully.

"Yes, history. For more than two hundred years before the New Era, the Old Crusted Empire and the Aventrai Empire fought a century-long war. However, the result of the war was that both sides suffered losses. In addition, the Yanhuo Federation, the predecessor of the Yanhuo Federation at that time, The empire was fragmented, and several large empires in the west dominated the world through navigation for more than a century. Our language comes from the old Crusted Empire, and the countries with language hegemony use the common language of the Western Continent. So over time, some places use them and become Habit," Moros explained.

"Oh, that's right." Wright said perfunctorily in a low voice.

This language called the West Continent Common Language seems to be very similar to English. Alas, it gives me a headache. If I had expected that I would travel to such a world, I would have passed CET-4 or CET-6 earlier. If I had passed IELTS and TOEFL, it would be even better. good.

However, according to the history I have read in the past few days, it seems that in the wasteland world of the Western Continent, except for the Zine Empire, which still retains its strength, the several former Western Continent countries have fallen into decline and are struggling to survive.

This thing similar to Morse code seems to have become a variant in this world. The command just now was to directly use the length of the sound to form letters, and then directly form the word representation.

It's no wonder that most of the enemies we fight are careless people with no IQ, or lost people without industrial capabilities. It would be nice if they could launch a few intelligent and organized attacks.

Along with the gradually steady rumble of the mechanical chariot, and the rhythmic slight bumps he gradually became accustomed to, Wright felt that the surrounding space gradually became silent, like a starry night gradually dimming.

Immediately afterwards, Wright felt that the light in the surrounding space gradually decreased, and bits and pieces of darkness began to appear in the extremely unnoticeable parts of the corner of his eye.

In a daze, the faint sound of gears turning came to his ears. In the gradually dimming space of alternating pitch black and crimson, the sound gradually became clearer until it penetrated deep into his soul and spirit.

"Am I... falling into a dream again?" Wright said with some pain.

I often fall into dreams and fantasies. Is it possible that I have some kind of mental illness that is difficult to cure? If I really fell into a hallucination for some reason and couldn't extricate myself, wouldn't I lose all my sanity in reality and become a monster?

Is someone deliberately guiding you?

A careless person? The lost one?

Maybe it's because of the mysterious and seemingly feared "red magic source power"?

Wright felt like someone had put a steel bar into his brain, stirring the tissue that contained a lot of water.

Immediately afterwards, the sound of the rotating gears gradually turned into an extremely familiar sound of mechanical products.

Da da da.

It's regular and rhythmic. It's unmistakable. It's the sound of the second hand of the watch moving.

Why do you dream about watches? Is it a revelation? Or information?

Just when Wright was confused, the dark starry world in front of him seemed to have been deliberately torn open by "someone" with a lavender hole.

Following the place where the "dimension" broke, Wright swam away uncontrollably.

Immediately afterwards, he felt the mechanical sound of the second hand moving louder and louder.

A huge pocket watch emerged from the lavender realm.

It has a brass-colored background, the mechanical gears and hands inside are running rapidly, and the size is almost ten meters high from Wright's perspective.

The outside of the pocket watch is wrapped in a glass case, and extending from it is a golden chain, like a mythical tool used to punish criminals.

The upper part is a little steel-colored, and under the slightly dirty time adjustment part are two exposed gears, with the red hands inside pointing to a certain time.

"Eleven forty-five," Wright murmured.

"Eleven forty-five?" Wright asked in a low voice, confused.

But then, with an explosion that pierced his eardrums and soul, the hands of the pocket watch in front of Wright suddenly accelerated and began to rotate uncontrollably.

And the lavender gap also began to close at an extremely fast speed. As the space was gradually compressed, the pocket watch also retreated at an extremely fast speed until it disappeared into the endless dark stars along with the pitiful lavender point.

"Wright? Wright? Get off the train soon. Something seems to have happened at Kefu Station!" Brett's rich and anxious voice came from his ears.

"Huh?" Wright suddenly woke up from the dark world.

As if it was an instinctive reaction from the remaining memory fragments, Wright quickly unlocked the safety of the "Zooyuan" brand rifle in his hand, loaded it, opened the door, and jumped out with Brett and Moros.

Just as he looked around in confusion, a more violent explosion sounded. Not far away, about where the station was, an extremely bright fireball glowing with crimson light was expanding outward at an extremely fast speed.