Port Alexandra City Hall, Underground Engine Room.
Although the alarm had been manually silenced by Mary, the air still crackled with anxious static. Countless red indicator lights glowed like bloodshot eyes, staring relentlessly at everyone present.
"Chairwoman Mary?"
Tin Man's voice broke the dead silence. His electronic eyes flickered inquisitively as he looked at the woman standing before the main console, seemingly lost in some distant memory.
"…"
Mary did not respond. Her gaze pierced through the flickering holographic screens and thick concrete walls, as if returning to that dock eighteen years ago—the bright sunlight that had felt colder than winter. That man's back. That sentence: "Behind every madness lies a philosophy." It was like a rusted thorn embedded deep in her mind.
Victor… is this what you meant by philosophy? To prove existence through destruction?
"Mary!"
Victoria could no longer stand it. She shouted and stepped forward, gripping Mary's shoulder.
Mary's body jolted as if surfacing from deep water. Her eyes refocused. She inhaled deeply, and the hardened mask of authority returned to her face, though her complexion remained pale.
"Sorry." She rubbed her temples. "I recalled… some old matters. How is it, Tin Man? Have you regained control of the robots?"
Tin Man's fingers flew across the keyboard as torrents of data cascaded down the screen.
"The situation is relatively optimistic," he replied, a hint of anthropomorphic ease entering his electronic tone. "The attack on the robot system is indeed fierce—a low-level, nearly suicidal overload command. However… I detected a peculiar stream of data."
He displayed a green waveform on the screen. Amid the red torrent of hostile data, it stood resilient.
"It's weak, but highly targeted. Like a wedge jammed into the enemy program's gears. It appears someone inside that base helped us—slowing the attack temporarily."
"Inside?" Victoria raised a brow. "Arran?"
"Uncertain. But it has bought us valuable time." Tin Man turned toward Mary. "Chairwoman Mary, although I am constructing a firewall, physical damage has already occurred. Deploy more reservists immediately to replace the disabled or rogue robots in maintaining order. Panic is more lethal than machines."
"Of course." Mary swiftly input commands and connected to the garrison headquarters. "The entire city is under martial law. All reservists are now active duty."
She ended the transmission and looked sharply at Tin Man.
"You're still concerned about something else. You've been attempting to reverse-track the signal source."
"Yes." His metallic cervical joints emitted a faint mechanical hum. "Pure defense cannot win this. To secure complete victory in this information war, we must destroy the interference source itself—the massive radio base station."
Victoria interjected, "So we locate the enemy's headquarters and have ground forces seize it—Frank's team."
"That would solve it physically," Tin Man nodded. "However, before Frank breaches the base, we can counterattack through the Rational Crystal itself… with certain measures, directly burning out their transmission antenna."
Mary frowned. "To use such measures, you'll need greater authorization. The permissions here are insufficient."
"Correct," Tin Man admitted. "This central engine room grants secondary access. To infiltrate their heavily modified system, I must operate the Crystal itself. This facility connects to only part of its interface."
He gestured toward the massive server array.
"The 'brain' here is merely a projection. The true 'body' is elsewhere."
Mary fell silent. She glanced at Tin Man, then at Giovanni, who watched curiously.
Finally, she withdrew a peculiar key from her pocket—a transparent crystal shard containing intricate gearwork.
"…Very well. Extraordinary times call for extraordinary measures. We must leave. We are going to the true research center of this city."
Giovanni whistled, adjusting his flamboyant captain's hat. "Ha! So the Crystal isn't housed in this magnificent municipal palace after all? Politicians always love their rabbit holes."
"Of course." Mary sneered lightly, pushing open the engine room door. "We understand the principle of not placing all eggs in one basket. Especially when facing someone like Victor."
She turned to the group.
"Let's go. We'll take my official vehicle. Hurry—this city won't hold much longer."
Ten minutes later.
A sleek black steam-armored vehicle raced along an elevated highway toward the outskirts. Through the windows, Port Alexandra's devastation unfolded: flames devouring commercial districts, rogue robots rampaging, sirens wailing across the night.
Yet the car did not head toward safety. It sped toward a colossal seaside cliff.
With a deep mechanical rumble, a camouflaged section of rock shifted aside, revealing a tunnel. The vehicle entered and eventually halted within a vast underground dome.
Even Giovanni, well-traveled as he was, could not suppress his astonishment.
"Wow…"
Before him rose an immense steel launch tower. Cradled within it stood a sixty-meter-tall silver rocket, gleaming beneath floodlights like a spear piercing the heavens.
Beneath it, connected by thick pipelines, hovered a transparent control chamber. At its core glowed a deep blue light—the true Rational Crystal.
"A rocket launch site?" Tin Man looked up, data flickering across his lenses. "So you intend to use the Crystal to explore the cosmos?"
"Is there a problem?" Mary stepped to the railing, gazing at the rocket that embodied her life's work. In that moment, she looked nothing like a politician—her eyes burned with fervor.
"Only by understanding the universe we inhabit can people truly comprehend the meaning of their lives."
She turned, voice impassioned.
"Pessimists and skeptics like Victor shout that life has no meaning, that the world is void, that humanity is caged monkeys. Ridiculous."
A smirk touched her lips.
"Of course life has no meaning—if you just sit there and imagine!"
Her heel struck the metal floor sharply.
"But like the road beneath our feet—walk it enough, and it gains life! Meaning is not bestowed—it is created! Rather than obsess over whether consciousness is real, we should use our hands to touch the stars! That is the difference between me and that madman!"
"Let's move," she said, heading toward the floating control chamber. "Tin Man, the Crystal is there—the heart of this city and the key to the stars. I entrust it to you now—for the protection of this land."
Tin Man watched her back silently.
"The ultimate romance of objectivism…" he murmured. "Though I do not wholly agree, it is undeniably a uniquely human brilliance."
Meanwhile, west of Port Alexandra, by the Sulfur Lake.
Night deepened. The wasteland was not dark—the moon hung pale above, while the burning city's glow painted half the sky crimson like a scar.
The reservist troops brought by Veronica assembled at the lakeshore. Many were long-retired veterans or clerical citizens. Ill-fitting protective suits hung awkwardly on them. They clutched outdated steam rifles, anxiety etched on their faces.
"Is this really okay…" a young soldier muttered, glancing at the distant flames. "That's a fire, right? City Hall looks like it exploded."
"Would a fire produce smoke that dense?" an older soldier wiped fog from his goggles. "That color… looks like a chemical plant or energy center. What if there are chain explosions? Are we really leaving the city now to attack terrorists?"
"My family's still there…"
Fear spread like plague. Morale teetered on collapse.
Ilo adjusted his glasses and whispered to Frank, "This is bad. They're wavering. If we don't do something, the formation will break."
Frank remained silent, trench coat fluttering, an unlit cigarette in his mouth. His gaze was steady.
Suddenly he coughed and climbed onto a high rock.
"Attention!"
His voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the tension.
"Reservists!"
He scanned the crowd calmly.
"You were chosen because Commander Senis trusts you. You are this city's final shield—and its sharpest spear."
The soldiers exchanged confused glances. Trust? They had been drafted due to shortage. Yet Frank's certainty made doubt waver.
He pointed toward the burning city.
"As you see, smoke rises over our homes—your families, your friends, everything you cherish!"
Their expressions tightened.
"And the culprit—" His tone chilled. He pointed toward the toxic mist of Sulfur Lake. "Hides behind that poison!"
"He kidnapped our scholar, attacked our city, unleashed those mad robots! Now they toast champagne in their safe base, laughing at us—calling the men of Port Alexandra cowards!"
The words ignited fury.
"What? Those bastards?"
"Unforgivable!"
Miguel leaned toward Faith. "How did he deduce that? We barely know anything about the Doctor's plan. He sounds like he saw them drinking champagne."
Faith bit his apple, amused.
"No, Miguel. This isn't deduction. In times like this, logic is secondary. For frightened people, truth doesn't matter. They need a clear enemy. A target for anger."
He smiled faintly.
"Stability comes first. Is he really just a detective? He makes speculation sound like fact. That's the talent of a natural politician. Fortunately, he's on our side."
On the rock, Frank's speech climaxed. He tore the cigarette from his mouth and crushed it underfoot.
"We face a ruthless criminal syndicate seeking to destroy our city. But!"
He drew his revolver high.
"Through investigation, we have located their base! Let them celebrate now—for soon they will pay!"
"We are not marching to die—we march for vengeance! Destroy their nest, and the city is saved!"
He swept his gaze across them.
"Prepare! Move out! For our homeland—for Alexandra!"
A heartbeat of silence—then a thunderous roar.
"For Alexandra!!!"
"Kill them!"
The demoralized reservists erupted with newfound resolve. Masks on. Oxygen tanks secured. Eyes blazing. They charged into the lethal sulfur fog.
Frank exhaled quietly, wiping sweat from his palms.
"Public speaking is exhausting," he muttered, hopping down. "Let's go. Whether they're drinking champagne or not—we'll deliver them a gift."
Miguel unsheathed his greatsword with a grin. "Champagne or poison—I'm ready."
Within the swirling toxic mist, a battle that would decide the fate of the city was about to begin.