Meta 02: Open the Stone Door

Rhine’s expression was cold, as if he had lost the ability to feel anything but “cold,” or perhaps as if, in his entire life, he had never experienced any other emotion. The coldness was so absolute that no other feeling could invade or disturb it.

His gaze swept over her, landing on the badge pinned to her chest: “Gua City Funeral Home · Lin Zhu.” The badge bore her ID photo, taken on the day she started—her smile… looked rather foolish.

The barrage exploded with comments.

【Streamer, that ID photo looks exactly like my uncle next door after his stroke】

【After seeing that photo, you think he’ll still let you on his mech?】

【Put that photo at the door and it’ll ward off evil spirits. Put it in the mech and you’ll both be doomed. I bet fifty cents he’s going to throw you out】

【Throwing you out would be merciful. If he doesn’t blast you on the spot, he’s got good manners】

Lin Zhu started to worry. What if he really didn’t take her? She stared at Rhine’s inhumanly cold face, calculating frantically.

Beg him? No, a man like this wouldn’t respond to that.

Play the pity card? Her knees were still bleeding—maybe that counted, maybe not—but judging by his expression, he probably only saw two categories: “needs medical attention” and “doesn’t need medical attention.” Pity wasn’t in his system.

So what now?

The insects in the distance were still fighting, probably held back by some force Rhine had brought, so for now, they weren’t coming this way.

A reckless thought flashed through Lin Zhu’s mind—should she just rush over and grab his leg? Hold on for dear life, maybe even annoy him enough that, in a fit of anger, he’d give her a quick end.

A laser gun, an energy cannon, one shot and it’s over. Better than living in constant fear in this godforsaken place, not knowing if the next second she’d be eaten by bugs or starve to death. At least it would be quick.

She started eyeing his legs, judging the distance—if she made a sudden move, what were her chances?

The comments seemed to see right through her.

【Streamer, that look in your eyes isn’t right. What are you thinking?】

【She’s not actually going to pounce, is she?】

【I bet a buck, if she dares hug him, he’ll throw her straight out of the atmosphere】

Lin Zhu heard nothing, her eyes fixed, locked on his legs. If he moved, she’d pounce. But Rhine didn’t move. Instead, he tossed out a line through the translator: “Follow me.”

He turned and walked toward the mech.

Lin Zhu froze for a moment, then hurriedly scrambled up, elated. The wound on her knee made her grimace in pain, but she didn’t dare delay, limping after him. She even found time to flash a “face-slapping” gesture at the barrage.

After a few jeers, the comments shifted their attention to the mech, desperate to know what the inside of an alien machine looked like, urging her to hurry up.

Rhine took a few strides and was up on his mech, but for Lin Zhu, the thing was simply too big and too tall. She craned her neck, ignoring the pain, nearly bending it to ninety degrees just to see the cockpit five meters above, where the man already stood.

Lin Zhu grew anxious. “Hey! How am I supposed to get up there?”

Her reckless behavior naturally drew another round of ridicule from the viewers, but she couldn’t care less—she was dead either way… Besides, the man, though cold, seemed genuinely… kind. Yes, that was it. But as she stared at Rhine’s face, her confidence faltered, and she gave a sheepish grin, even more foolish than her badge photo. “It’s really smooth—I’m not a gecko, I can’t climb up.”

Rhine didn’t look back. He simply tapped something on the control panel. A floating platform slid silently out from the mech’s abdomen, lowering itself to her feet. She hopped on faster than she’d ever bent to pick up a gold chain on the street. The platform lifted her smoothly, delivering her right to the cockpit.

The interior of the mech was far more impressive than she’d imagined.

Holographic screens floated in the air, data streams pouring down like waterfalls, all sorts of incomprehensible energy graphs slowly rotating in three-dimensional projections. Blue light flowed along the metallic walls, as if the whole space were alive.

The man pointed her to a corner, then took his seat and began operating. The holographic screens shifted with his movements, the mechanical hum deep and powerful, the entire mech like a giant beast awakening.

Lin Zhu crouched in the corner, hugging her knees. From this height, she should have been able to see clearly which bugs were fighting whom, but she didn’t dare move, only stealing glances at the man’s fluid, practiced motions.

The barrage went wild:

【Damn, this cockpit is bigger than my house. Is that hologram for real?】

【That red button—streamer, press it when he’s not looking】

【Yeah, press it, let’s see if it fires a missile or ejects the seat】

【Streamer, touch his control stick, see how he reacts. This guy’s temper is too good to be normal】

【Hahaha, are you trying to get the streamer killed faster?】

Lin Zhu couldn’t help muttering quietly, “Can’t you all quiet down for a bit? He’s a good person. And,” she decided to admit her cowardice, “I’m a little scared right now.” In the past, she’d seen countless mangled corpses without batting an eye, but compared to this, that was child’s play.

The comments had just started teasing her—“Scared of what? Dead is dead, at least you’ve got a handsome guy to keep you company”—when the mech suddenly jolted. Lin Zhu, crouched like a mushroom, toppled right to Rhine’s feet. Her whole body already ached, and now she nearly passed out from the pain. Inside, red alarms flashed wildly, a piercing sound threatening to shatter her eardrums, but Rhine’s face didn’t change. His hands moved swiftly over the controls.

Lin Zhu thought asking “What’s happening?” was pointless, but she pushed herself up. From this angle, she could see out the side window—

And froze.

It was a sea.

A black, surging sea made up of countless insects.

They surged from the horizon, blotting out the orange-red sky, the sound of six-legged movement audible even through the mech. Farther away, dozens of mechs fought desperately, beam cannons blasting away, each shot clearing a swath, only for the gap to be instantly filled by more insects.

There were too many bugs, so many she couldn’t see the end.

The comments went berserk:

【Oh god, I have trypophobia】

【Streamer, weren’t you pretty good at bluffing just now? Go down and chant a rebirth mantra for them all】

【Streamer, can you do your meteor punch again?】

【Do it again? Do it a hundred times, it’s useless—they’re here for the feast】

Lin Zhu didn’t even have time to think.

Rhine’s communicator suddenly crackled, a hoarse voice coming through, “Squad Three lost contact! Repeat, Squad Three lost contact! The number of bugs far exceeds estimates, requesting retreat! Requesting—”

Lin Zhu couldn’t understand, but the abrupt cutoff and the urgency in the voice told her that Rhine’s side was in serious trouble.

She looked again and saw a mech swallowed by the swarm, green slime and metal fragments exploding together.

Rhine’s expression didn’t change, but his hand paused for a second on the console.

Just a second.

What was he thinking? She had no idea. Then he pressed a button, pulled the control lever, and the mech suddenly dove in a new direction.

Too fast.

Lin Zhu, who got dizzy even on a bullet train, now clung to Rhine’s leg for dear life, instinctively squeezing her eyes shut.

But the wicked viewers’ excited chatter kept her so curious she couldn’t close them for long. Someone even threatened to give her a bad review for hugging his leg instead of his waist. She kept her eyes open, but it didn’t help—the shaking made everything a blur. She only felt the mech burst through the swarm, darting left and right at breakneck speed…

With a thunderous crash, the mech came to a halt.

Rhine grabbed her and jumped down, the move as effortless as an eagle snatching a chick—not exactly the action of a “good guy.” Maybe it was this thought that made her see, beneath Rhine’s calm, a new layer of gloom. She began to wonder if his real reason for bringing her on board wasn’t just to save her.

She hadn’t even gotten a clear look at her surroundings when the barrage started shrieking.

【Holy crap, what is this?!】

【An alien temple??????】

【This style doesn’t match—streamer, did you buy your transmigration package from a discount group? Just now it was interstellar mechs, now it’s suddenly an ancient tomb】

【Streamer, go inside and check it out!】

【Yeah, go on, see what’s in there for us!】

These people didn’t care one bit whether she lived or died.

How did she end up bound to such a useless system? No, even chicken ribs have some flavor—this thing was nothing but mischief.

Oh well.

Lin Zhu tried to get her rattled brains back in order and looked closely, stunned by what she saw.

In the sunken center stood a structure—stone, ancient stone, its surface crawling with moss and vines, like a temple forgotten for centuries.

It was more than a little eerie.

Lin Zhu shivered for no reason, a reaction that seemed to satisfy some expectation Rhine had. He spoke into the translator, “Who exactly are you?”

Lin Zhu opened her mouth, not knowing how to answer. Hadn’t she already introduced herself? From Earth, works at a funeral home, name’s Lin Zhu, even had a dumb badge.

Why ask again?

What was he getting at?

Did he never believe her? Or had she done something to make him suspicious? But she hadn’t done anything!

Forget it.

Survival first.

So she repeated herself, very honestly, very earnestly, looking like the picture of innocence and truthfulness.

“Earth?”

Rhine repeated the word, nodding slightly, as if weighing whether those two syllables were enough to justify whatever he was about to do.

Lin Zhu watched him, nerves on edge.

Rhine spoke into the translator, and when the mechanical voice reached her ears, she blinked, starting to doubt whether the man before her was even human. He said, “You, open the stone door.”

Lin Zhu immediately thought of all those tomb-raiding movies—what if there were traps inside? Was she supposed to be the canary in the coal mine? But she didn’t have any room to bargain. “Um… are you sure you want me to open it? What if there are traps inside—poison gas, arrows, a pit to fall into or something…” Are you really using me as a guinea pig?

He said, “Open it.”

This time, he skipped the translator altogether. Lin Zhu swallowed—though her mouth was already dry as dust. She didn’t know what got into her—maybe, deep down, she felt being blasted by his laser cannon was better than being the sacrificial scout. Anyway, she heard herself say, “Why should I listen to you?”

The words hit the air, and everything froze. The viewers behind the screen were stunned, the live feed briefly empty, then suddenly flooded:

【Streamer, you’re amazing, so fearless】

【I’m rooting for you, keep pushing back, and if you have to run, run—if not, I’ll burn you some paper money】

【If you’re gone, we’ll just go to the next stream】

【I’ve already screenshotted this—this will be your memorial photo, looks good】

Lin Zhu: “……”

She wanted to die.