When the blood moon rose for the third time, Lin Mo was nibbling moldy bread in the ventilation duct. Fingertips brushed over the holographic interface that popped up on the watch, and the mottled train was reorganizing its armor following the data flow. This is the seventh day of his rebirth, and it is also the 193rd hour that the train has evolved from the D-17 carriage into an interstellar fortress.
In his last life, he watched his sister being dragged into a scarlet wormhole by mechanical tentacles; in this life, he was bound to a doomsday system that could transform the entire train. Collecting alien alloys can load particle cannons into the carriage, purifying the radiation zone can unlock the ecological greenhouse, and every time an awakened person is rescued, the star map in the cockpit will light up with new coordinates.
On this never-ending desperate journey:
- A lame mechanic can knock out an anti-gravity engine with a wrench
- A doctor wearing a beak mask raises talking zombies
- The girl who always steals cans from the dining car, with blue arcs tearing through space dancing on her fingertips
But what really makes Lin Mo uneasy is the abnormal fluctuations in the "zero" system every time the train is upgraded. Those alien technology blueprints that appeared out of thin air, those carriage modules that perfectly matched the genes of superpowers, and the mysterious signals received at the observatory late at night - clearly the Morse code sent by the Voyager 2 that crashed twenty-eight years ago.
When the giant steel ship broke through the atmosphere, Lin Mo saw the most horrifying truth on the starship command platform: the numbers flashing behind the necks of all the awakened people were exactly the same as the sequence of the alien embryo culture tanks in the core compartment of the train...
