The New York of this moment was similarly shrouded in a deluge of rain, as if driven to madness by the downpour.

A person staying outdoors for even ten seconds was guaranteed to be soaked through entirely, from scalp to the very fabric of their undergarments.

The rain striking the face at this time was truly stinging, causing the very flesh to twitch from the dull, throbbing pain. The rainwater was icy cold, feeling like the fingers of the dead, intent on stealing every last bit of warmth from the body.

Yet, at this very moment, within the confines of the temporary base, everyone—from the eighty-year-old elders down to the children just beginning to understand—poured out of their shelters, flooding the small open area until it was impassable. All eyes fixed on the massive platform ahead with expressions of profound complexity.

The platform was girded by hundreds of thick conduits, winding like colossal serpents or twisted blood vessels delivering vital nutrients. These tubes connected to a rather unsightly, massive, wrinkled mass at the platform's center. As the deep, muffled roar of subterranean machinery intertwined, the very earth seemed to shudder violently. The conduits began to writhe as if suddenly alive, and vast quantities of gas started to be pumped in.

What filled the airship was not the usual helium, but a novel inert gas developed by Doctor Octopus, named Samarium (). This inert gas offered three times the buoyancy of helium and prevented combustion, all at one-fifth the cost of helium production.

Of course, the gas’s biggest drawback was the stubborn pollution residue generated during its creation, which normally required decades to fully clear under standard conditions; otherwise, the local residents’ cancer risk would spike by seven thousand percent. But in times like these, such considerations were utterly secondary.

As the Samarium gas rapidly filled the colossal envelope of the airship, a behemoth quickly took shape before the assembled crowd. Its length astonishingly reached three hundred and eighteen meters, with a diameter of sixty meters, a dry weight of three hundred tons, and a volume of 300,000 cubic meters. Compared to the modern wide-body Boeing 747, this vessel was more than three times its length and over six times its diameter. The interior of the envelope was meticulously divided into one hundred and twenty-eight separate sub-balloons.

Soon, the immense lift generated by the airship pulled the mooring cables supporting the gondola taut. The Samarium gas production was complete. According to all telemetry, the airship’s actual lifting capacity reached nine hundred and twenty-one tons—exceeding the design standard by over 10%. Furthermore, the steel cables connecting the airship to the transport capsule showed no anomalies; all parameters were perfectly normal.

People were then permitted to board the airship for inspection. Inside, they discovered two distinct types of accommodations. The first resembled a dormitory—a simple, large, open room.

To save weight, the bunk beds were specially fabricated. They were fully assembled, essentially consisting of two rubberized mats fixed directly to the bulkheads, supported by rubber pillars. One could sleep by simply spreading their belongings upon them.

One dormitory section could house thirty people and included an integrated lavatory, where waste was unceremoniously dumped directly onto the floor. Drinking water and food were supplied strictly rationed by the vessel’s crew. Electricity usage was controlled, limited to two hours daily. As for domestic water, the lavatory tank would be filled exactly once a day at noon, providing that single tank for all needs.

The second type of accommodation was more akin to a rudimentary hotel setup: four-person rooms, offering unlimited domestic water and unrestricted electricity. Occupants in these rooms could order from the airship’s dining hall and use the shopping facilities, provided they paid—or contributed value—to the airship operation.

Naturally, the payment method was no longer in USD or Euros, but in a specialized token issued by the Alliance. In the rush, no proper minting machinery could be found, so the machines used for pressing soda bottle caps were hastily modified. Consequently, these tokens became known as "Caps."

There were two ways to acquire these tokens: dedicated exchange points aboard the airship accepted hard currency like gold and diamonds for conversion, or individuals who contributed to the airship’s operation received "Caps" as wages and bonuses. For virtually everyone present, staying in the general dormitory was certainly not an option.

Next came the series of trials. Initially, the vessel's transport capsule was filled with large amounts of earth and soil to simulate a fully loaded or even slightly overloaded scenario. The resulting data was entirely satisfactory, showing no unexpected deviations.

The final test was a destructive one, designed to push the airship to its breaking point. Under the relentless assault of the Vampire Clan and the X-Men, even after 20% of the ascending airship’s envelope was destroyed, it still maintained 90% of its carrying capacity. However, once the destruction reached the critical threshold of 50%, the vessel's transport capability rapidly diminished. Even so, the airship held together for another ten minutes before beginning its uncontrolled descent. Its material quality was truly exceptional.

Furthermore, the sturdy, lightweight bottom hull of the airship was designed to float easily on water—a crucial contingency plan for emergency landings.

This was based on the intelligence provided by Fang Senyan: the Earth's surface would be submerged by seawater for at least a month. The violent surge of the ocean was attributed to continental plate movement, suggesting the peak flood would last about half a month, followed by a half-month recession. This amphibious design, therefore, held the potential to save countless lives.

Witnessing all this, even the X-Men and the Vampires erupted into cheers. The better the airship performed, the more secure their own lives felt.

Amidst the celebration, Doctor Octopus beamed, his face alight with triumphant satisfaction; his sense of accomplishment was overflowing. In the subsequent seminar, he strongly emphasized one critical point: securing rare and precious metals remained absolutely essential.

This was because, according to the design concept, every seven airships would form a dedicated squadron. The connecting steel cables required for this formation demanded exceptional specifications: they needed to withstand incredible tensile stress yet also be capable of instantaneous severance when necessary to jettison a damaged craft from the formation—an exceptionally high bar. Since forming these squadrons was unavoidable, the only recourse was to engage in brutal competition with other factions to seize the necessary space for survival... "We only have eight hours left," Zi frowned.

The group’s mission was far from complete.

The requirement was to secure five kilograms of Tritium, seven hundred grams of Uranium-Mercury, or one thousand kilograms of Rhodium within seventy-two hours. Currently, Fang Senyan and his team were still short by three hundred grams of Tritium.

Tritium had famously appeared in the Spider-Man film narrative; it was a raw material for hydrogen bombs. Doctor Octopus’s accident had occurred during his research into Tritium. It was rumored that a mishap involving a piece of Tritium the size of a fingernail could potentially obliterate New York.

Everyone settled around a table. Even Fang Senyan could not immediately reply to Zi. Fang Senyan was merely a clever man, not an omniscient deity. If he could simply deduce the location of three hundred grams of Tritium by snapping his fingers, he’d be a charlatan.

Suddenly, Professor X’s voice broke through, sounding weary:

"Count Hunter, whom the Vampires sent out to scout for information, has just returned. It seems he brought back something."

Fang Senyan immediately felt a surge of energy upon hearing this. "Good."

He then couldn't resist asking, "Professor, are you alright?"

Up to this point, no fewer than eleven waves of enemies had assaulted their position. These ranged from probing attacks to full-scale assaults, all of which had been brutally repulsed by the powerful defensive lines set up by Professor X, crashing against the defensive front like tidal waves smashing against a reef, meeting only certain annihilation.

With the potent effect of the Cerebro amplifier, Professor X could achieve the power level of a Level Five Mutant, but the cost was total immobility. Moreover, the Professor had compressed his Level Five mutation abilities into the immediate vicinity of the base, making his localized power astonishingly immense—within this perimeter, he was truly a godlike presence.

Often, even legendary heroes, through a moment of inattention, found their minds influenced by the Professor, causing them to turn on their allies. Any powerful group's greatest fear is internal strife and attrition, but it could be stated bluntly: if Professor X intentionally opposed a force, wherever he was present, internal chaos would surely follow.

However, the Professor's exhaustion was starkly evident. The image of Professor X projected into Fang Senyan's mind showed eyes bloodshot with fatigue and deeply sunken sockets, yet his gaze was concentrated and substantial, possessing a profound depth that seemed to pierce the very soul.

While Professor X’s primary and secondary personalities might rest separately, the physical weariness was undeniable. The personality currently controlling his body was the primary one. He spoke slowly:

"I'm fine. In about three more hours, Jean should wake up. She can take over my position and give me a chance to rest. If not, Dracula has also offered me a secret Vampire technique that can rapidly restore energy."

At that moment, the window outside flickered, and a giant bat flew in, sporting golden stripes on its wings. The bat spun in the air, transforming into a courteous, middle-aged European gentleman. He smiled faintly:

"I am Count Hunter. I just returned from an expedition with intelligence. A batch of Tritium elements, recently extracted from Fukushima, Japan, has just been transported, but this time, it is being escorted by personnel dispatched by the government."

Fang Senyan frowned: "This seems odd. Logically, given the prior agreements, that batch of Tritium should have been shipped directly to China. Why would the United States keep it for themselves?"

Count Hunter hesitated: "This likely involves a rumor that surfaced seven hours ago. The rumor suggests that while the Chinese government was constructing their Ark, they took advantage of the global resource centralization toward China to begin mass-producing copies based on the Ark's design, allegedly planning for around a thousand vessels!"

"Although this news has not been definitively confirmed, it has already caused high alert among many nations. It seems this shipment of Tritium was intercepted due to the fallout from that rumor." (To be continued) RQ