Incineration (1)
Clang! Clang! Zzzzzing!
Deep within the underground sections of the Ark, the napalm production line never stopped. Conveyor belts turned endlessly as thousands of workers tended to them—two thousand in total. Their numbers were temporary, of course. Once this run ended, they would be reassigned to light industry, producing the everyday goods the Ark's citizens needed.
Beep… Beep…
"Non-destructive inspection complete. No anomalies detected."
Among the two thousand laborers, the busiest were the inspectors ensuring napalm quality. Only forty of them existed, yet their work was grueling. The machines were complex, difficult to train operators for quickly, and though the tasks reduced to pressing buttons, the physical toll was severe.
"Anomaly on the X-ray inspection conveyor. Requesting engineer dispatch."
"We need another forklift in the yard. Anyone certified to drive one?"
Minor issues kept arising, each handled according to protocol. With skilled personnel embedded in the factory, the entire operation ran with crisp efficiency. Had the Ark not analyzed their personnel records, problems would have plagued the line from day one.
Far below, at a depth of 4.5 kilometers, the vast production facility still felt cavernous even with two thousand workers inside. It was like scattered islands in an endless sea. The Ark remained full of empty space.
The structure of Ark No. 17 stretched 6.2 kilometers in total length. The upper 1.6 kilometers housed residential zones and served as an airfield for launching gunships. The middle layer—only 0.1 kilometers—contained commercial and administrative districts, including my office. The remaining 4.5 kilometers underground were dedicated to production. In a sense, the Ark was the ultimate apartment building, integrating living, commerce, and industry into one structure. A colossal apartment housing 1.6 million people.
> Today's quota achievement: 76.42%
At exactly 3 p.m., the speakers announced the quota completion rate. The figure—76.42 percent—was high enough to spark hope. Workers quickened their pace, imagining they might return home for dinner.
"All right, everyone, push through. We're eating at home tonight."
The process of synthesizing napalm, loading it into containers, attaching fuses, and turning the result into rockets and bombs was complex yet efficient. The fully automated lines rarely stalled, though the synthesis stage itself moved at a pace humans could comfortably follow. The standardized containers were versatile—equally suited for bombs or rockets. Attaching a fuse to one end completed a rocket's production.
Witnessing the pinnacle of 22nd-century human technology applied here, I could only shake my head. I had toured factories before, but never one this thoroughly vertical. The only vertical facilities I had seen were urban farms using stacked LED layers to grow crops. Here, the production zone revealed what a truly vertical automated factory looked like: massive metal pulleys lifting products like buckets from a well, millions of hooks spinning on coiled springs. The sight left me dizzy.
How much had these production systems cost? Housing 1.6 million people already required enormous resources; this must have exceeded even that. The Ark was the ultimate expression of spending without restraint. Over three hundred such Arks had been built. Perhaps humanity's strength was greater than anyone had realized.
"One breakdown would be catastrophic."
> Per design parameters, the production sector can continue operating while ignoring damage up to 70 percent.
"Incredible."
I studied the production zones through more than ten holographic displays. Seventy percent damage tolerance. In human terms, that meant limbs could be severed yet the body would keep functioning. The engineers who designed and built this deserved nothing but awe. I hoped they had reached safety.
At this rate, the napalm production target would be met soon. Watching humans enhance machine productivity was a rare sight indeed.
*
"Open the city database."
> Accessing data…
Back in my office, I examined the city's layout. Even in ruins, hazardous materials remained. I intended to use them to amplify the napalm's destructive power—fuel depots beneath gas stations, chemical storage in industrial complexes. I designated these sites as primary strike points, and hundreds of red markers bloomed across the city map. Places once filled with daily life and human ambition had become foundations for annihilation. The thought left me uneasy.
"How is the gunship rearmament proceeding?"
> Proceeding smoothly.
In the upcoming bombing operation, the gunships' role was not to engage monsters directly but to saturate the city with napalm. Their wing-mounted autocannons were being removed and replaced with rocket pods. The nose guns could theoretically be swapped as well, but the mounting structure did not support rocket pods, so they would remain. There would be moments when autocannons were still needed during the drops.
Everything was moving according to plan. It made me wonder how the government and military had collapsed so quickly at the start. I knew the truth from surviving soldiers: monsters had appeared without warning, decapitating command structures and isolating units that were then overwhelmed by sheer numbers. Even divisions that retained leadership had been reduced to roughly six thousand survivors before total annihilation. The creatures had tunneled through the earth, flattened cities, and summoned colossal beasts from the sea. Billions of them had erased civilization in an instant. Now only a handful of us clawed for a chance at counterattack.
What were they? How did they twist human flesh into monsters? How had they remained hidden despite humanity's exploration of every underground crevice and ocean floor for tens of thousands of years?
> Sir, incoming transmission from Commander Alfonso Hayek.
This was no time for speculation. The Ark was safe, but we remained at war. That state would only end when the surrounding city was reduced to ash.
"Put him through."
> Connecting transmission…
The familiar face appeared. He had eaten and rested well since arriving; his cheeks had filled out and he had begun growing a beard. The change made him look slightly unfamiliar.
"Sir, it is an honor to deliver good news. As of this hour, all Ark forces have received the new equipment. Retraining and personnel replenishment are also complete."
"Excellent. Training cannot stop, however. Keep pushing. The fate of humanity may rest on us."
"Understood. Any further orders?"
"For the incineration operation, deploy the walkers at the front. The roads are already ruined; collapsing buildings will only make them worse."
"That makes sense. I'll revise the formation accordingly."
Alfonso Hayek, commander of the ground forces, brought welcome news. Now only time remained. I felt sorry for the refugees to the north and east, but I hoped they would hold onto hope until the end. Salvation would reach them soon.