"Crrrrk—" Lu Yuan hit the brakes, and the "Hare" vehicle lurched forward slightly, carving two tracks into the snow. The midday sun glinted off the frost on the rearview mirror, making the view painfully bright.
The "Hare" chugged with exhaust puffing, and Lu Yuan irritably turned up the wiper speed. But as soon as the wet, cold snowflakes hit the windshield, they melted and quickly refroze. Even with the defroster constantly spraying de-icer, he could barely maintain a clear field of vision.
But visibility alone wouldn't be enough. The drone he'd sent out during the midday lull in the blizzard transmitted images of the terrain ahead—another forest stretch lay in his path. Lu Yuan would need a clear 360-degree view at all times, taking care to avoid entangling the sides in fallen trees. Taking down a few trees was no big deal, but if a massive pine as wide as a person fell on the "Hare," it might be fine, but its suspension might not hold up.
Climbing out of the vehicle, Lu Yuan installed an anti-gravity module on the hood, instantly creating a barrier that kept snow from accumulating close. He couldn't afford to worry about engine wear now. If the next blizzard lasted as long as the previous two-day storm, he wouldn't reach the western pass on Route B before deep winter hit—and the snow would be even heavier by then.
Though Lu Yuan didn't know Earth's calendar, he was certain temperatures were still dropping. The reading from this morning was significantly lower than when he'd first left the "Evening Cloud." The blizzards were intensifying, and it was clear to him that winter had only just begun. The sooner he reached the pass, the better. Even if headwinds prevented him from advancing, he could find a cliff or safe area to camp until spring, and then head to the Svobodny launch site.
Even though Lu Yuan pushed on as fast as he could, by the time he reached the forest, the sky had already darkened. It was only around one in the afternoon, but the sudden blizzard had already obscured the sun.
He slapped the steering wheel, cursing himself. Last time he'd crossed a forest, poor lighting had made him reluctant to waste fuel on full lighting. He ended up veering off course, hitting multiple trees, whose resilient branches jammed the drive wheels, nearly breaking the tracks.
But stopping to wait out the storm wasn't an option. Time was secondary; even with the anti-gravity module's protection, the snow could pile up around the "Hare" and trap him like a tomb. He didn't want to wake up buried under two meters of snow. Keeping the "Hare's" anti-gravity module on overnight would burn through a third of a hydrogen rod.
When in doubt, have a smoke.
Lu Yuan pulled out his dwindling pack of Fire Clouds, took out the most crumpled one, and held it to his nose for a deep inhale. He hesitated but put it back in the pack with a sigh, saving it for a celebratory moment. He'd just have to crave it for now.
The turbine spun up for a short sprint to crush through fallen trees. He maneuvered the "Hare" carefully, minimizing scraping against trees. Lu Yuan even folded the impact bumper over the roof to avoid snagging. These trees were no match for the impact bumper, but uprooted roots could pose problems.
Only the twin beams of the headlights pierced the darkness between the trees. A chill ran through Lu Yuan's spine, making him shiver. He glanced sideways at the window; within a few paces of the armored glass, visibility was zero. All he could hear was the steady creak of the tracks and a faint rustling sound.
Life surviving in a place like this—what could it be like? Cold? Savage?
Six or seven hundred meters into the dense needle forest, the trees crowded in so thick that the "Hare" had nowhere to go. Lu Yuan reversed for a moment, set the bumper back, and revved the turbine. The "Hare" surged forward, smashing through trees like matchsticks.
Since he'd picked up speed, slowing down wasn't an option. He cranked the engine up to max power and charged through!
The bumper angled to deflect downed trees to the sides. Massive pines crashed down in front, but the anti-gravity module deflected them away, reducing the chance of branches entangling the tracks.
It was like a harvester plowing through a cornfield, the "Hare" clearing a path. Twigs and frost-covered branches littered the path behind him, but not a single bird stirred. Perhaps they'd already migrated south for the winter, or maybe this was never their home.
The trees thickened, and even the anti-gravity module couldn't prevent all the falling trunks from pressing against the windows. Turning back wasn't an option; reversing would only tangle the tracks more. Lu Yuan floored the accelerator, bracing himself for whatever lay ahead.
The "Hare" scraped past a gnarled pine, and Lu Yuan jerked the wheel left, aiming for a gap between the trees. But as he squeezed through, the "Hare" hit a trunk nearly as wide as the vehicle, jarring it with a sudden drop in speed.
And that wasn't all. More pines came crashing down in front of him, and with the drop in speed, the "Hare" struggled to regain its momentum. The violent jarring threw Lu Yuan forward, and before he could react, the "Hare" struck a rock, sparking against the bumper. He slammed the brakes and jerked the wheel, causing the bumper to dig into the rock and slide left, sending the "Hare" sideways.
The "Hare" continued downhill at low speed, snapping trees under its weight. Lu Yuan grimaced, desperately fighting the now-weighty steering wheel. If another thick tree showed up, it'd mean a rollover—or worse, a cliff.
Struggling, he straightened the wheel and pulled the emergency brake, locking the tracks with a loud thud.
The rear tracks touched down, and Lu Yuan let out a breath, staring at the half-illuminated pine in front of him. The bumper had pierced the bark, releasing a thick blackish-red liquid. Under the headlights, he gasped; those weren't mere bark lumps—they were egg sacs attached to the bark.
The sacs oozed as they ruptured, and long, dark shadows wriggled out, crawling along the bark toward other intact sacs. The rustling sounds he'd heard earlier intensified. The ones that didn't burrow into sacs quickly froze and turned a deep red, as if they were burning.
Lu Yuan, no stranger to war, felt a chill. War was at least fought against humans; he'd rather face a battle mech than this eerie place.
Engaging reverse, he backed the "Hare" up. But as soon as he retracted the bumper, the tracks snagged again. Initially, Lu Yuan thought it had hit something and tried forcing it forward. But the more he pushed, the worse it got; he had no choice but to stop. The monitor indicated foreign objects tangled in the tracks. Reluctant to step out, Lu Yuan considered using a drone. However, the tree branches would prevent sufficient height.
After muttering a curse, he donned his exoskeleton and grabbed his rifle, stepping out as if walking to his doom.
He pulled out a folding shovel, digging into the ground that emitted a sickly-sweet smell. Underneath the packed snow, it was all blackened, clumped soil, possibly remnants of fallen needles fused with the strange egg sacs over repeated snowfalls.
Stepping forward, he sank halfway into the snow, the radiation level spiking. Pulling his foot out took effort as he clung to the "Hare," rifle raised toward the dark forest depths.
With a sigh, Lu Yuan tossed out a hovering sensor ball to keep watch. He turned toward the right track, dreading what he might find. Numerous roots, vines, and cut branches tangled in the tracks, congealed in a thick black substance.
Pulling his fingers through the sticky strands, he felt like he was touching glue. He yanked his hand back, but long, thin threads clung to his fingers. Frustrated, he muttered about setting everything ablaze if necessary.
As he sprayed gasoline over his hands, the feed from his helmet's sensor ball suddenly went dark. Raising his rifle, he surveyed the quiet forest. After ten seconds, the feed flickered, alternating between black and red, shadows moving ominously.
A single word entered Lu Yuan's mind, tightening his grip on his rifle.
Esophagus.