Three days after the explosion, the Hoa Lac industrial zone was nothing but black ash and twisted steel. Army, police, and bomb disposal teams remained on guard day and night. Drones scanned every pile of rubble not for enemies, but for the last traces of human warmth.
"Preliminary report: 200 injured, 37 missing, 12 soldiers fallen."
"B237 destroyed completely. But interference waves from its energy core remain source unknown."
The nation trembled. Yet the people only knew of the "Hoa Lac monster", not of the man who had hurled himself into it in blue light.
A week later. In a secret underground research chamber, Trung lay upon a cold alloy table.
Half his body charred black, the azure core in his chest flickered weakly like a star about to die. Professor Nguyễn Văn An stood beside him, eyes hollow from sleepless nights.
"He… not only survived. The energy core is synchronizing with his biology. Van Sinh never achieved this."
Engineers, doctors, scientists worked under cold white light. Artificial nerves grafted to his spine. Blue energy veins replaced burned blood vessels. Bio alloy "intelligence" was installed half steel, half will.
"Neural system synchronized: 98%."
"Energy stable."
"Initiate consciousness interface."
Blue light spread beneath his skin like hidden rivers. His eyelids trembled. He opened his eyes.
"I… am alive?"
Professor An placed a hand on his shoulder. "You live, Trung. And this time, not to run from fate."
On the optical pedestal lay a weapon the world had never seen. The white cloth was pulled away.
The Lac Hồn Armor. Its chest engraved with Đông Sơn bronze drum patterns, sun motifs radiating outward. Shoulders shaped into tiger masks, fangs carved with artisan grace. Plates flexible like dragon scales dispersing into blue light when released, hardening like forged steel when bound.
No need to wear only to think. The armor summoned in 2 seconds, enveloping the body like a god donning celestial steel.
"It will not obey orders," Professor An said. "It only obeys the heart. If man trembles, it grows heavy. If man believes, it becomes wings."
The metal door creaked open. Professor An entered… followed by two small figures. Tùng and Lan.
Clothes stained with dust and smoke from evacuation. Trung froze. Cables on his arm trembled as muscles tightened. Lan ran forward, stopping one step away, eyes fixed on his scorched steel arm:
"Dad… does it hurt?"
Trung knelt, metal knee clanging against the floor. He wrapped his remaining flesh hand around her.
"No… I only feared I wouldn't see you in time."
Tùng stood silent, eyes red:
"Dad… Mom is still missing… but they said, if she's found then"
Trung said nothing. His breath caught. Professor An turned away. At last, Trung placed a hand on his son's shoulder, whispering:
"As long as hope remains… I will search. If not… I will protect you both in her place. Do you understand?"
Lan clung to his neck, murmuring:
"You must come back. If you don't… I'll be angry forever."
Trung laughed, wet and broken:
"Yes. I promise."
Professor An spoke softly: "I'll take them to safety. You… carry the rest of this nation."
Trung gripped his hand:
"Then keep safe the part of me that is still human."
Trung rose. Drew a long breath. Blue light coursed his spine like a galaxy. He thought. The Lac Hồn Armor dissolved from its pedestal, like wind, merging into his flesh.
A Vietnamese warrior half man, half steel stood in azure glow.
"I no longer fight for vengeance. I fight… to preserve the human soul."
Hoa Lac became a forbidden zone. The rain had long ceased, yet the wind carried the scent of burned steel, scorched earth. State media called it a "technological accident", but the nation knew a metal monster had once stepped into Vietnam.
Social networks swarmed with rumors:
"There was a man… glowing blue."
"Not robot. Not human."
"A Vietnamese flag behind him."
But his identity remained locked in secrecy.
Hanoi, National Security Council chamber.
General Dự, Colonel Hạo, scientists, intelligence officers all before a giant satellite feed. Van Sinh's satellites shifted unnaturally, linking into a network spanning Southeast Asia.
"If they activate orbital weapons, we cannot withstand," an air force officer warned.
"Then we need a new instrument," General Dự turned to Professor An.
"Is he… ready?"
Professor An gave no answer. He only opened a dossier Trung in Lac Hồn Armor, blue eyes staring into the lens.
Central Highlands, special research base.
Steel doors opened slowly. Lights shone down the stairway to the military airfield. Trung emerged.
The Lac Hồn Armor did not blaze like Western suits. It was silent, yet one could hear the heartbeat within. Bronze drum motifs on his chest reflected the morning sun.
Tiger mask shoulders flexed like living muscle. Two guards instinctively stood at attention not by command, but by reverence.
"Trung, you need not fight yet. This is only the world's first glimpse of you," Professor An whispered.
Trung answered, voice deep, like steel touching water:
"Not for them to see me. But for them to know… Earth still stands."
Van Sinh secret base, deep underground.
Command room sealed. Screens displayed satellite orbits, Earth signals. A man sat in shadow, face lit red by monitors the one who ordered "Fire Guidance."
"B237 destroyed. But its auxiliary core gathered sufficient data."
A female coordinator reported:
"Signs of a blue semi human entity detected. Technology beyond our comprehension."
The silver-masked man clenched the console:
"No. That thing… is an error. And every perfect system must erase errors."
Behind him, twelve bio chambers activated. Inside were no longer B series beasts, but human forms. Thin, pale, eyes closed, hands upon chests. Like statues in glass coffins.
"Activate Saint-class entities."
"Van Sinh satellites begin opening the gate."
Night, Central Highlands. Trung stood alone beneath a sky of stars. Forest rustled below. Far away, rooftops sheltered Tùng and Lan. He touched the bronze drum on his chest.
In that moment, echoes of ancient drums resounded villagers rallying, banners rising, blood spilled to guard rivers and mountains. Professor An appeared behind him, whispering:
"Are you afraid?"
Trung smiled. "If I die for this land, I am at peace more than living to watch it fall."
Cold wind. Leaves trembled. In a Hanoi café, people passed around a blurred photo of a man standing in fire and rain, a blood soaked flag behind him.
In Hoa Lac, the ground still trembled each night like the heartbeat of something not yet dead beneath the ashes. And in the sky, Van Sinh satellites shifted orbit. A red point locked slowly onto Vietnam.