Collapse Iron: What does it mean to broaden the fate of four people in one sentence?

Xing lay on the table, clutching a baseball bat that she had pulled out of nowhere.

"Alright, let's vote."

Himeko's voice was very calm.

"Those who agree to dock on this planet and help the local residents resist the antimatter legion, please raise your hands."

On March 7th, he was the first to raise his hand, raising it high like an elementary school student answering a question.

Dan Heng also raised his hand, his movement very light, as if he were making a very ordinary decision.

Uncle Yang nodded and raised his hand.

Himeko smiled and raised her hand.

Everyone looked at the star.

Xing was still lying on the table, spinning the baseball bat in her hand. She looked up at everyone, then slowly raised her hand.

"Passed unanimously."

Himeko stood up.

"Then it's decided. The train will stop at Arillo-VI. Everyone, get ready."

"Great!"

March 7th jumped up, ran to Xing's side, and asked with a grin:

"Ah Xing! How do you feel about going to war on your first time pioneering a new frontier?"

Xing thought for a moment, pinched her chin, looked up at the ceiling, and pondered for a long time.

Then she picked up the baseball bat and swung it in the air.

"I am Galactic Baseball Man! The mere Antimatter Legion will be wiped out in one blow!"

March 7th covered her face and sighed.

"Danheng, Uncle Yang, Sister Ji, look at her, she's not nervous at all. We were so worried."

Himeko and Uncle Yang smiled.

"Little March, although the entire train is on board this time, it's still the Anti-Material Legion. Stay close to us, understand?"

"Know it!"

Xing also shouted.

"Know it!"

March 7th glared at her.

"You're such a broken record..."

Xing smiled and slung the baseball bat over his shoulder.

Another part of the void.

The woman with blue-purple hair strolled alone in the void, her long hair flowing behind her like weightless threads. Her steps were neither hurried nor slow, each step treading on the void, yet feeling as if she were stepping on solid ground.

She held a long sword, the blade gleaming coldly in the starlight.

She suddenly stopped and looked in one direction.

"I am for..."

Her voice was very soft, so soft it was as if she were talking to herself.

"We mourn the deceased."

Then, she changed direction and headed towards the planet covered in ice and snow.

Her figure grew farther and farther away, smaller and smaller in the void, but her steps never stopped.

That planet hasn't been visited in a long time, so long that it seems to have been forgotten.

But today, many people are on their way.

Chapter 75 Hole Machine, Help Hook!

The sky over Belleberg is no longer the sky.

The black fleet blotted out the sky, as if someone had torn down an entire night and laid it over the city.

The flanks poured down from the fleet like a tide, landing on the dome of Fort Kripper, on the square of the administrative district, and on the walls that were only half-built.

Oleg punched away an approaching pawn, his breathing was heavy, and his white hair was scattered on his forehead in the smoke, but he did not retreat.

Behind him was a corner where the children were hiding; he could not retreat.

"Where did these guys come from?"

He was panting heavily when he kicked away another pawn, then glanced at Schwarzkopf beside him.

"Swarovski, are you alright?"

Schwarzlo's mechanical body was smoking.

His left arm was severed, revealing charred lines and sparks flying from the broken end.

With his remaining right arm, he shielded Clara and the children against the wall, his body blocking their way. His electronic eyes flashed, the red light flickering as if they were about to go out at any moment.

"I...I'm fine."

Schwarzkopf's voice remained steady, but upon closer listening, one could detect the electrical noise beneath that calm surface.

"Protect Clara."

Clara stood at his feet, her small face upturned, her eyes full of tears, but she bit her lip and didn't cry.

She reached out and gently touched Swallow's smoking mechanical leg. Her small hand was burned, so she withdrew it, then reached out again, and withdrew it again.

“Mr. Schwarz…”

Her voice was very soft, as if she were afraid of disturbing something.

Schwarzkopf's electronic eyes blinked.

He didn't look down at Clara; his gaze was fixed on a spot not far away, where Cocolia was holding Bronya in her arms. Her gray three-strand braids lay scattered on the ground, her silver-white dress was torn in several places, her face was covered in gray, and there was blood at the corner of her mouth.

She kept her eyes closed and remained motionless.

Cocolia held her, her eyes empty. She didn't cry, she didn't shout, she just held her, like a sculpture whose soul had been hollowed out.

Schwarzkopf's electronic eyes blinked again. The blinking was very slow, as slow as a sigh.

Oleg glanced in that direction and sighed.

His fists were trembling with anger, anger at his own powerlessness.

“Bronya..…”

He withdrew his gaze and turned to Schwarz.

"Swarovski, this can't go on. You take the children and get out of here!"

Swallow did not reply.

His electronic eyes scanned the battlefield, surveying the surrounding terrain, calculating the number and density of dummy troops, and assessing the safety of retreat routes. But every single one told him the same conclusion: there was no safe retreat route.

He summoned several self-destructing automated machine soldiers from afar.

The mechs' shells were covered in cracks, but their steps remained firm as they limped toward Swallow, lining up in front of him as if awaiting final orders.

“Oleg, you take the children and go,” Schwarz said calmly. “I’ll control these automated machine guns. That will buy us some time.”

Oleg was stunned.

He looked at Schwarz, then at Clara beside him.

The little girl stood at Schwarzro's feet, her small hands resting on his smoking mechanical leg. Her eyes were red, but her lips were tightly pursed. She neither cried nor spoke.

Oleg opened his mouth, as if to say something, but something seemed to be stuck in his throat. He took a deep breath, about to nod,

"Hook won't leave!"

Hook stepped out from the corner, her face covered in ash. She stood with her hands on her hips, head tilted back, her voice crisp and clear, like a thunderclap in the smoke-filled ruins.

"Hook, together with Uncle Oleg and Uncle Schwarz, will drive these bad guys away!"

Schwarzkopf's electronic eyes flashed as he looked at the little girl who wasn't even as tall as his leg.

Oleg sighed, just about to say something,

"Swarovski!"

Scott's voice came from not far away.

The old man, leaning on a cane, limped through the ruins, with someone supporting him from behind.

Hook's father, Fiesman.

His arm was wrapped in bandages, which were soaked with blood, but he was still walking steadily.

"Tell me how to control these mechs!"

Scott was panting heavily, his cane thumping against the gravel.

“I’ll hold these bastards off! You’re stronger than me, you can’t fall here!”

Hook quickly ran over to support his father, his little hands tightly gripping the hem of his clothes.

"Dad, are you alright?"

Feissman smiled and patted Hook's head with his uninjured hand.

"Hook, Dad's alright."

Hook looked up at his father, at the blood-soaked bandages on his arm, and at the still-wet wound on his face.

Her eyes reddened, but she didn't cry.

She turned around and looked at the approaching pawns, the black tide slowly engulfing Belleburg's square.

Her breathing grew heavier, her fists clenched tighter, and her small body trembled—not from fear, but from anger.

She pulled out the hole-punch machine and threw it at the pawns with all her might.

"Hole machine! Help Hook! Drive all these bad guys away!"

The hole-punch machine tumbled through the air like a shooting star. It traced an arc in the sky before landing amidst a group of pawns.

Then, it came to life....

It's not just "like" life, it's truly, undeniably, alive.

The hole machine landed on the ground, bounced up, spun in the air, and then crashed into the group of virtual pawns like a small cannonball, knocking one away, then another, and in no time at all, the group of virtual pawns were scattered before they could even react.

Then it went back to Hook and drew a line on the ground.

Golden rays of light emanated from it, drawing an arc on the ground and erecting a semi-transparent barrier in front of everyone.

The pawn crashed into the barrier as if it had hit an invisible wall, bounced back, crashed again, and bounced back again.

Oleg and Scott stared in disbelief at the scene, their mouths agape.

Schwarzko's electronic eyes flashed wildly, the red light at an astonishing frequency. His logic module was operating at high speed.

"Analysis in progress... Analysis in progress... Conclusion..."

His voice was steady, but if you listened carefully, you could hear a slight discord.

"Storage protection".

Clara looked at the golden barrier, at Hook's back as he stood in front of it, hands on his hips, head tilted back, and her eyes lit up.

She lowered her head, took a wrench out of her pocket, and, imitating Hook, threw it with all her might.

"Clara's wrench! Help Clara!"

The wrench tumbled through the air, landing on a pawn and creating a dent. It bounced up and struck another pawn, bouncing back up and striking more than a dozen pawns before finally landing at Clara's feet.

Julian also stepped forward.

He pulled a mask from his pocket, a mask he had saved up with his allowance for a long time and had been reluctant to wear. He hesitated for a second, then threw it away forcefully.