The sky over Hanoi was thick and gray, like the smoke of war that had yet to fade. The national energy warning system wailed long, like a ship's horn in a storm.
On the main wall of the National Security Bureau, every screen displayed only one line:
Code: LHV Viet Linh, Status: Free
General Pham Huy Tin slammed his hand on the table:
"He just destroyed three Van Sinh units in ten minutes! But the energy released has exceeded the national safety threshold. If he loses control, Hanoi could evaporate!"
Colonel Le Thanh Huyen stood firm, voice sharp:
"Sir, if that is the energy of the nation, then it is also a shield. To hunt the one protecting his people is"
"Impossible?!" Tin roared. "I see him as a ticking bomb! Activate the Vietnamese Soul Campaign. Target: capture alive or neutralize the entity Lac Hon!"
Major General Ngo Minh Loc frowned:
"If we fire wrongly, history will judge us."
"History is written by those who survive." Tin's voice was ice. "Seal off Ba Vi, Son Tay, Tam Dao. Establish an energy containment ring."
The steel doors closed. Across the 3D map, red circles rose like chains.
At an abandoned station in the north, wind howled through rusted roofs. Trung leaned against a corroded iron pillar, switched on the radio:
"Professor An! Respond."
The signal cracked, an old voice breaking through static:
"Trung… they've marked your position… Don't return to Ba Vi! I… I'm being hunted…"
"Professor!"
"Listen carefully… Viet Linh is not a weapon. It is a bridge between human souls and the land. If they seize the will of the nation, it will be bound to another's hand."
The signal cut. The floor trembled. Headlights swept through the cracks armored convoys approaching, red flags whipping in the rain. Trung gripped Viet Linh's hilt, eyes dark:
"Even the Fatherland… wants to bind its own soul?"
He turned away. Up the mountain. Night fell, Ba Vi blazed like heaven's forge. UAVs swarmed. Targeting beams wove into a net. The Lac Hon armor flared fully, Dong Son patterns spinning like an ancient drum breathing.
The radio hissed:
"Target confirmed. Permission to fire!"
Missiles screamed. Trung swung Viet Linh, lam-blue rings of the bronze drum expanding into a great seal across the sky, deflecting the barrage into fire rain. In command, Colonel Huyen shouted:
"Cease fire! He's not attacking—he's shielding civilians!"
The order was overridden. A cold metallic voice intruded:
"Entity Lac Hon, your nation has chosen evolution. Submit or be erased from history."
Huyen clenched his teeth:
"The Energy Alliance has seized control! They're turning Vietnam into a testing ground!"
Tin's jaw tightened, but he gave no retreat:
"Continue containment. Do not let him escape."
Trung gazed at the new missiles. He whispered to the rain:
"I will not strike at Vietnamese."
He only defended. Each block drew new blood beneath his armor. At Geneva, atop the Alliance tower, Tu Nhan smirked:
"Deploy Resurrection War God V468. Unlock the genome from Lac Hon."
In a growth chamber, a colossal figure rose Alpha. Half steel, half ancient Vietnamese mask. On its chest: Viet Linh Alpha S.
On Ba Vi, Alpha crashed down like a meteor. Trung tightened his grip:
"You… are me?"
Alpha's hollow voice rumbled:
"I am humanity's chosen future without heart, without motherland, only strength."
Two Viet Linh blades clashed.
CRACK!
The sky split. Floodwaters surged as if alive. Alpha struck like an iron storm one slash split mountains, one thrust ignited forests, one sweep of electromagnetic force erased swarms of UAVs.
Trung staggered, blood seeping through armor seams. Yet he never struck toward the encircled soldiers. Each time Alpha veered that way, Trung shifted, endured blows to drag it back into the empty mountain.
From the forest edge, Professor An stumbled forward, rain lashing his face, shouting hoarse:
"Trung! Look into my eyes! No one has the right to steal the soul of a nation! Not even… its own government!"
Alpha swung at him.
Trung leapt to block, armor bursting in flame.
"STOP!" An cried. "You must not kill Vietnamese. But you have the right to kill what steals Vietnam's soul!"
Trung growled low:
"I understand."
Alpha gathered red black energy, the final strike:
"End. A soul is only beautiful data."
Trung drove his blade into stone, whispering:
"Viet Linh… borrow my heart once more."
He released every safety lock, absolute overload. Hanoi's radar screens blazed white.
Huyen paled:
"National stabilizers report detonation! If he collapses the northern grid"
Tin was silent, eyes fixed on Ba Vi's halo.
Trung turned toward Hanoi, where Tung and Lan were. He smiled faintly:
"Dad will be late."
He looked at An:
"Teacher… If I go, keep the part of me that remains human."
An did not weep. He nodded:
"I will keep it."
Trung raised his sword, shouting like a commander:
"For the People unsheath!"
"For Vietnam into battle!"
BOOM!
Lam blue light burst into a colossal bronze-drum seal across the sky. From it, a Lac dragon shot upward, piercing Alpha's blade.
Alpha screamed. Its red-black shell shattered like an egg. Van Sinh's synchronization severed. Trung's Viet Linh exploded like dawn, waves of blue sweeping away all control signals, burning the copy-tech of "Vietnamese Soul."
Trung locked Alpha, dragging it into the seal's heart.
"Fall here… to stand forever elsewhere."
The mountain blazed. When the light faded, silence was so deep one could hear leaves fall. On cracked stone lay only a streak of lam-blue ash, fine as stardust. Alpha was gone.
Van Sinh's satellites went dark for eleven minutes enough to collapse their entire chain. In Geneva, Tu Nhan collapsed before the screen, eyes extinguished like a lamp unplugged.
Professor An knelt, trembling hand touching the blue ash:
"You… chose the most beautiful death."
He did not scream. He whispered as if reciting ancestors' names.
International news remained silent. The Security Bureau issued a statement:
"The Vietnamese Soul Campaign has ended. Entity Lac Hon is missing."
But among the people, the story was different. On stormy nights, Ba Vi still echoed with bronze drums like the heartbeat of the land. Some swore they saw a figure in lam armor standing on the cliffs, gazing toward Hanoi.
General Du climbed the mountain alone. He stood at attention, saluted, and said softly:
"If you live, I call you soldier. If you have gone, I call you hero."
In a yellowed notebook, Nguyen Van An wrote:
"If one day people forget their roots, remember there was one who chose to become the soul of this land. They called him Lac Hon. But I write his true name: Trung."
He closed the notebook. Wind from Ba Vi carried lam dust into the earth. Far away, Tung and Lan looked up as thunder rolled, their hearts suddenly warm. Perhaps, because their father had just passed by in the faint beat of a drum.