Alex's answer was somewhat unexpected for the officer, because after taking a deep breath and controlling his urge to smash something, Alex said to the colonel, "I will provide a reasonable explanation for this matter later. As for now… just say it's a rare celestial phenomenon! 'Approaching Science' has filmed so many episodes, I believe you can gloss over this issue."
As he spoke, Alex was clearly trying to restrain something; the colonel could see his left hand had unconsciously clenched into a fist.
"If that doesn't work, then ask those grumbling fellows if they can withstand a single-person orbital drop strike of this magnitude!" His voice suddenly turned cold when he said this, and the surrounding temperature seemed to drop by several degrees, causing several officers to swallow their saliva in unison.
After speaking, Alex said nothing more to the colonel, merely saying 'excuse me' before entering Sam's ward.
He pushed the door open very gently, a stark contrast to his earlier sharp demeanor.
The colonel watched his retreating figure, shook his head slightly, and then led his men away.
In the corridor, the youngest major finally couldn't help but ask in a low voice, "Leader, are we just going back to report like this?"
"Otherwise? He's already given an explanation, which is quite considerate." The colonel shook his head, his expression quickly returning to sternness.
Although this incident put them in a somewhat passive position, just as Alex said, with all that fuss, which capital could withstand an orbital drop strike?
Only those who could withstand it were qualified to question at the table; those who couldn't didn't even have the right to sit at the table.
—
The ward was filled with the smell of disinfectant, and the electrocardiogram monitor emitted a regular "beep-beep" sound.
Alex stood before the bed, gazing at Sam's pale face, his eyes devoid of cruelty and killing intent, only a faint heartache.
Her lips had lost their usual color, slightly chapped, and her breathing was so shallow it was almost imperceptible.
Alex remembered that at this time yesterday, she was still smiling and waving at him by the waterfall, water still dripping from her hair, sunlight dancing on her.
And now, she lay quietly, like a flower wilted by a storm.
He stood by the bedside, his chest churning with an indescribable emotion.
This complex feeling was like a tangled mess stuck in his throat, making even his breathing difficult.
This feeling was very unfamiliar, as if something was slowly fermenting in his heart, yet he couldn't find the right words to describe it.
It wasn't simple sadness, nor pure anger, but a complex blend of bitterness and powerlessness.
Was it heartache? Yes, but not purely heartache.
The feeling was more like watching a blooming flower suddenly wither, leaving one both regretful and helpless.
A life that was vibrant and bright just yesterday, instantly becoming so fragile; this contrast left him at a loss.
A sense of guilt also lingered in his heart, but it wasn't that strong.
His rationality told him it was just an accident, but emotionally he couldn't help but wonder: if he had been more alert, reacted faster, could all of this have been avoided?
Now he only felt a dull ache in his chest, as if his windpipe was blocked by a soaked sponge.
Every breath became laborious, and his temples throbbed faintly.
He slowly sat down on the chair by the bed, carefully taking hold of her familiar hand.
He knew this hand all too well.
Just yesterday, it was still full of vitality, pulling him through the mountains, deftly pushing aside obstructing branches, and steadily supporting him across slippery stream rocks.
The touch then was warm and dry, her palm bearing the thin calluses from years of climbing and swimming, her knuckles strong yet soft, giving a strange sense of reliability.
But now, it lay quietly on the white sheet, cold like the deep sea.
Her once healthy skin tone had faded to a sickly pallor, and bluish veins were faintly visible beneath her almost transparent skin.
Her slender fingers were weakly curved, even the knuckles appearing exceptionally fragile, like a magnolia branch broken by a downpour.
Alex carefully touched her hand with his fingertips, not daring to use force, fearing that a slight squeeze would crush this suddenly fragile life.
He remembered how these hands were skillfully tying climbing knots yesterday, but now they showed not even the slightest tremor.
He didn't know what to say.
She couldn't hear, nor would she respond.
He could only watch her in silence, watching her slightly furrowed brow, as if she was still enduring some hidden pain; watching her bloodless cheeks, where healthy rosy color once bloomed, now a ghastly pale; watching her disheveled hair scattered on the pillow, with a few strands still damp with seawater.
He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, his fingertips touching her skin, the cold temperature making his heart tremble.
He suddenly remembered what she said yesterday: "Life is so beautiful, why always dwell on troubles?"
But now, she lay here, because of a sea snake, because of an accident, because… his oversight.
Alex's fingers unconsciously tightened, then quickly loosened, afraid of hurting her.
He stared at the needle in her hand, the transparent medicine dripping one by one, slowly as if time had stretched out.
The wind outside the window gently stirred the curtains, and the sound of distant waves could be heard; everything was so peaceful, only the emotions in his chest churned incessantly.
He didn't know if he liked her, but he knew that when he was with her, he didn't need to pretend, didn't need to explain, and didn't even need to deliberately think about his heavy past.
She simply smiled, taking him to see the sea, to hear the rain, to feel those simplest things he had long forgotten.
And now, she lay here, so quiet, unlike her.
Alex took a deep breath, his fingers gently caressing her fingertips, like a silent plea: "Wake up quickly."
"Oh, Emperor, please bless her, let her awaken!" Alex suddenly began to pray devoutly, although he did not believe in the Undying Monarch on the Golden Throne, at this moment, besides praying to him, Alex did not know what else he could do.
The power of psychic energy might have some effect, but unable to calm his mind, he suspected that if he were to do so, the violent power would instantly tear apart the delicate and fragile person before him.
The hospital's treatment had made the utmost effort, and the anti-venom serum had been injected; the doctors had also done their best to save her life.
Theoretically, she had passed the critical stage and would soon wake up.
But she remained with her eyes tightly closed.
Occasionally, her fingertips would tremble slightly, and her brow would unconsciously furrow, making Alex's heart clench—but the next second, everything would return to silence, as if the movement just now was merely his illusion.
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