Apocalypse: I Build A Doomsday Train Chapter 1216 - 470: Completing Suicide

A sudden chill enveloped Lin Xian as he gazed upon Hua Xiaoling, who stood completely bare before him. This was no internal sensation, but a palpable, external coldness, as if the very air had begun to snow.

A quick survey of his surroundings revealed a drastic environmental shift. He now found himself within a concrete enclosure, near an old, sputtering kerosene stove. The walls bore traces of rust, and a weapon rack prominently displayed AK-74 rifles alongside RPG-7 rocket launchers. Frost had already claimed the windowpanes, a testament to the severe drop in temperature.

As Hua Xiaoling began to approach him, Lin Xian's brow furrowed, an instinct to retreat surfacing, only to realize his immobility.

He was utterly unable to move.

His gaze remained fixed as the naked Hua Xiaoling advanced. Abruptly, her features contorted, her hair transforming into curly auburn strands. Lin Xian felt himself propelled backward, the figure he now perceived as 'Hua Xiaoling' straddling him. Miraculously, a disheveled, white military-style shirt appeared on her, while an abandoned coat lay discarded on the floor.

Lin Xian's attention was drawn to a name tag stitched inside the military coat on the ground, bearing the Russian inscription: Yelena Panova.

What was transpiring?

Lin Xian remained utterly bewildered. Had he been inexplicably thrust into a clandestine meeting with a Soviet female officer?

Within the confined space of the communications station, the only sounds accompanying the howling wind and snow were the rhythmic creaking of table legs and the muffled cries accompanying their fleeting intimacy.

Ugh!

Ugh!

Without warning, piercing red alarm lights began to flash erratically! The blare of an air-raid siren erupted outside, and before the two could cease their actions, the blast door was forcefully struck! Shouts filtered through the blizzard from the guards, "Captain! Highest 'Halo' alert! Emergency summons!"

With a crash, a teacup tumbled and shattered. The pair hastily disentangled themselves and fumbled to dress. 'Lin Xian' snatched the coat and bolted through the door. The wind and snow surged inward, the siren's roar overwhelming the silence, deafeningly close. The external view morphed from a snowy forest to a military jeep, its tires skidding on ice, headlights piercing the blizzard like the eyes of a dying beast.

This was no mere holographic projection—Lin Xian felt an overwhelming sense of being truly present, inhabiting another's existence.

He swiftly composed himself, absorbing the surrounding details. The dashboard's reflection revealed his own pallid face. The ancient jeep appeared at least sixty years outmoded, and the entire scene seemed plucked from a historical period of the old Soviet Union.

The jeep navigated through camouflage netting and the entrance of formidable reinforced concrete structures. Lin Xian disembarked, quickly joining a group of guards in a passage. Inside, a long, dim corridor echoed with the heavy tread of boots. Peeling paint exposed the gray substrata of the walls. Old fluorescent bulbs flickered, casting a harsh white light, while the air hung heavy with the scent of oil, cheap tobacco, and potent disinfectant.

Lin Xian's gaze swept across the corridor walls, his eyes instantly locking onto a specific point.

This was the 'Cassandra' strategic missile warning center!

The elevator descended deep into the earth, its hydraulic doors hissing open. A colossal radar screen, emitting a monotonous green glow, dominated an entire wall, presenting a complex celestial grid. At this moment, five points of light traversed the polar ice cap, accompanied by pulsing countdown numbers that beat like a heart. Soldiers in khaki uniforms sat with grave expressions before the screen, all enveloped by a low, droning mechanical hum.

"Yakov, repeat the report!"

A towering colonel stood at the forefront, his voice laden with gravity.

"Satellite data confirmed, Colonel! Trajectories locked onto Moscow, Kyiv... A total of five, projected to reach the mainland in twenty-eight minutes."

Utter silence descended, punctuated only by the blaring alarms. The tension was so thick one could almost hear the slide of sweat down foreheads. All eyes were riveted to the pulsing red numbers marking the countdown to devastation. The very air seemed to thin, and a primal fear of annihilation gripped every soul. Some instinctively clenched their fists, their knuckles turning white.

Lin Xian's gaze swept over the assembled figures, a sudden realization dawning. He lifted his eyes toward the clock within the warning center.

September 26, 1983, 11:32 AM.

This was...

The very eve of the nuclear crisis during the Cold War!

Lin Xian's heart plummeted as he watched the figure before him turn in his direction.

"Lieutenant Sergei, were there any anomalies detected in the North American command chain?"

"None, sir!" responded 'Lin Xian' himself, stepping forward to deliver his report. "The Cassandra System erroneously reported solar flares three weeks ago, but they would not result in trajectories such as these."

Lin Xian regarded the middle-aged officer directly in front of him, attempting to ascertain his identity.

Stationed tonight, duty officer Lieutenant Colonel Stanislav Petrov, a man around fifty with streaks of gray in his hair, stood without his uniform jacket. His faded military green shirt, sleeves rolled up and collar open, hinted at the immense pressure he seemed to be under.

Observing this man, Lin Xian found himself filled with a cascade of questions. What was Hua Xiaoling's true intention behind her actions? What exactly did she want him to witness?

Naturally, Lin Xian had delved into Cold War history within the Federation's modern historical records, learning of those pivotal secrets that had once brought humanity to the brink of crisis. Yet, standing here now, he experienced that chilling pressure for the very first time.

Lieutenant Colonel Petrov stood ramrod straight, his bloodshot eyes locked onto the lone red dot on the radar screen. The highest alert status demanded an immediate report. Upon receiving this critical dispatch, the Ministry of Defense would undoubtedly trigger the strike protocols, unleashing destruction orders upon missile silos scattered throughout the Soviet Union.