When Chu Guang discovered that Shelter 100’s communications module had overloaded, his first instinct was almost reflexive. The shelter definitely experienced the same problem as Shelter 79. There were restless phantoms lingering in a tomb that should have been silent.

But the outcome was not what he expected.

According to player reports on the forum, the overload was not caused by tampering. Instead, reigniting the fusion reactor had rebooted the life-monitoring system, which in turn woke the long-slumbering AI and resumed the self-destruct program suspended a century and a half earlier.

Fortunately, his players cleverly made use of the Gravekeeper’s clues. By broadening the life-monitoring criteria, they convinced the AI to classify the shelter’s insect population as the descendants of Shelter 100 residents, thereby halting the self-destruct sequence.

What remained was simple. Repair the communications module, reclaim administrator authority, and purge the mountain of bugs left behind by 60 years of Treemen versus Worker Ants. Then, Shelter 100 could operate normally again.

After two centuries, the shelter was no longer suitable to serve its original purpose. At least until the insect problem was resolved, it had to continue serving as a shelter.

In time, the New Alliance would decide its future use.

But Chu Guang still had questions. Aside from Craig, the final person who died in the shelter as a human, what became of the other residents who uploaded their minds to the circuits?

He found no trace of them in the database. Surely they hadn’t simply vanished after uploading themselves.

Then he suddenly recalled. When his players first entered the shelter, Little Seven mentioned that the entrance terminal had been accessed in the year 2190.

That was the 61st year of the The Wasteland Era. It was also the very year Shelter 100’s last survivor, Craig, disappeared from the life monitors...

...

Shelter 101.

Days later, Chu Guang again visited Dr. Methods, meeting at the same cafe as before.

Unlike the previous time, the place was nearly full. Chu Guang had to weave all the way to the back corner by the cabinet before spotting Methods waving to him. “Over here.”

Sitting down across from him, Chu Guang got straight to the point. “Thank you for the code. The legacy of Shelter 100 is a godsend for us, especially the plasma engine.”

Methods smiled faintly, lifting his cup for a sip. “Is that so? I’m glad I could help. I think the residents of Shelter 100 would be comforted, knowing someone will carry on their unfinished mission.”

Chu Guang sighed softly, “We tried assembling a prototype with the black box and disassembled it for study. Sadly, our engineers can’t fully digest the technology, nor replicate it without the box. All we can do is design craft around that prototype and its battery.”

Methods looked unsurprised. Instead, he reassured Chu Guang. “That’s normal. With your current resources, producing such technology independently is impossible. You lack not only the knowledge but also the hardware base to apply it. Don’t worry about what can’t be done. The black boxes exist to carry you from nothing to knowing how and why. Your task is to walk step by step along the road before you.” Then, he joked, “Of course, it’s possible the black boxes will remain black boxes forever, tools turned into addictions you can’t quit.”

“I’ll guard against that,” Chu Guang replied seriously.

He tapped his left arm, and a holographic interface floated up.

Methods raised a brow. “And this is?”

Chu Guang spoke plainly. “Our residents found more than black boxes and logs. They uncovered records left by Tree, the Treemen, and the Worker Ants. They pieced together Shelter 100’s 63 year history.”

In truth, it was just a compilation of forum discussions, subjective comments stripped, leaving only the objective notes.

Methods, intrigued, slid the screen toward himself and scrolled a few pages. “... Interesting.”

He looked up with a sly expression before speaking again. “So in the end, those worker ants, who would rather turn themselves into bugs than stay, didn’t actually become insects or escape the shelter. Even the last pitiful man below, who wanted to tear the house apart to flee, ended by sacrificing himself to save the shelter he despised. How ironic.”

“If Craig were alive, he would probably laugh. Maybe even mock that poor fool, if not for their reckless sabotage, Shelter 100 wouldn’t have ended this way. A swarm of lowly bugs, no matter their final gesture, can never atone for their sins!” His voice rose slightly, as if speaking not just to Chu Guang but to others in the noisy cafe, or echoing someone else’s thoughts aloud.

Chu Guang noticed a nearby patron clench his fist on the table, then slowly release it.

Combined with Methods’s expression, he was certain. The man had met Craig, through the entrance terminal.

After a pause, Chu Guang gave his own view on the matter. “My opinion differs. To me, both Treemen and Worker Ants were residents of Shelter 100. Some sought to make the shelter an eternal prison for power; others chose freedom, even if it meant destruction. Both sides twisted protective rules into weapons against their own, and that’s why they destroyed themselves.”

“In fact, every move they made still followed the rules, whether hiding life signals to trigger the self-destruct sequence or exploiting a bug to overload the reactor. What no one did was fix those hazards. They hoarded them as weapons.”

“Normally, no shelter residents would all crowd into a warehouse and freeze themselves. A fusion reactor shouldn’t overload. Yet they forced both, leading to tens of thousands of deaths and over a century of shutdown.”

Chu Guang paused, then continued casually, “The so-called Gravekeeper realized at the end. Both sides were part of the shelter. Treemen weren’t descended from some nameless Tree, they were born among them. Their fate wasn’t one man’s folly, but everyone’s shared responsibility.”

“As an outsider, I believe his last act redeemed himself. Shelter 404 will take their torch, with their memory, to continue the mission they forgot.”

Regret flickered on his face. Though the shelter was saved, the ending was far from perfect.

“... Of course, if the last Treeman who lived until the 61st year had gone down just once more, spent a little time learning what happened below, they wouldn’t have needed us to settle it a century later.”

The answer had been written there all along. Copying it wasn’t hard.

Even without the language, players managed with scraps of clues, deciphering the last Worker Ant’s will, using his final key to shut down a fatal systemic error.

At that moment, a choked voice rose from a nearby table.

“Craig... he would never have mocked him... not if he knew what that man did.”

The words were ground out between clenched teeth.

Chu Guang turned. A man in a gray jacket sat with his back to them, shoulders shaking.

He wasn’t the only one. Other sobs floated up too.

“I remember that boy... He became a Supervisor in the 53rd year. He was barely 20.”

“He loved the shelter more than anyone. I remember him saying when it was all over, he wanted to open a museum there, to tell the youths of the new world the old stories.”

“Damn it... Why didn’t he come to me! Why didn’t he use my body? I was ready to give it up! He could’ve had mine instead!”

The cafe’s cheer had drained away. Faces were blank with loss, streaked with tears, eyes shut in remorse.

Just as Chu Guang suspected, the 110 who uploaded their minds hadn’t perished in Shelter 100. In the 61st year, someone had led them out.

That someone was Methods.

He had left the Great Rift Valley in the 45th year, disappointed, choosing a different path from the Academy. He built the technical recovery system for the Post-War Reconstruction Committee, giving nearly his whole life to them.

Shelter 101 wasn’t his first. The record at Shelter 100’s gate in year 2190 had been his.

Meeting Chu Guang’s gaze, Methods gave no explanation. He only sipped his coffee as before.

Then he asked softly, “What do you think would be the best ending for them?”

Chu Guang thought for a moment before he replied. “That every part serves its true purpose.” 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

“What do you mean?”

Chu Guang answered crisply. “It means exactly what it says. ‘Tree’ was the administrator, and there were supervisors and residents. They actually started off fairly well, better than many other shelters, but in practice, they veered completely off the original plan. The residents closest to the Tree became Treemen bound to it, while those furthest from it eventually ceased to be human at all.”

“Division of labor was the ideal, but reality was often another matter.” Methods set down his coffee with a faint smile. “Just like the Reconstruction Committee after the war. Believe it or not, it really was the best solution at the time. Never before had so many people of different identities given everything for the same cause. Without it, the planet might have already destroyed itself. And yet, even so, it lasted only 45 years.”