Chapter 61 — The Last Seed Keeper

Before dawn had time to penetrate the thin layer of mist clinging to Roof Filter, Khe Mien was already at the supply warehouse near the main gate, her hands counting every box of disinfectant, every roll of gauze carefully packed according to the list Bien Ba Uy had approved right after last night's emergency meeting - not much, just enough to not make Green Dome vulnerable, but enough to give the remaining people in the attacked settlement a chance to live through the coming days.

"Twelve boxes of medicine, eight large rolls of bandages, two sets of field surgical instruments," Diem Quynh read aloud from the inventory book, checking off each item as Kien carried them and loaded them onto the lightweight metal-coated trailer that the technical team had modified specifically for this short trip. "I think that's enough for a three-day trip, ma'am."

"It has to be enough," Khe Mien replied, her voice more serious than usual. "We can't bring in more without the Council worrying that we're weakening ourselves."

Bach Lam appeared from the light weapons depot, carrying a climbing gear bag and a long stick covered in worn leather over his shoulder—not to attack, he once explained, but to navigate through the piles of rubble that could collapse further at any moment. "Ngan The Binh went ahead to check the shortest route," he said. "He said if we followed the old trail along the eastern edge, we could get there in two and a half days instead of three."

"The faster the better," Khe Mien said. "No one knows how many people are waiting for help there, or how long it will be before Binh Diem returns."

Su Dinh Lam appeared at the warehouse door at that moment, his hands clasped behind his back as is the habit of a person who always keeps a careful distance from any hasty decisions. He stood looking at the preparations for a long time before speaking, his voice no longer had its usual sharpness but carried a quiet fatigue.

"I still think this is an unnecessary risk," he said. "But I also know that saying that now has no meaning anymore. The Council has decided, and I respect the collective decision, although in my heart there are still many things I cannot rest assured about."

"I understand, Su Dinh Lam," Khe Mien replied, stopping to look straight at him. "And I promise, we will not take any more risks than necessary. This is not an expedition. This is a relief mission, and we will withdraw as soon as we realize real danger."

He nodded, but his eyes still stopped on the small seed box Khe Mien always carried on his chest, as if he was considering something he didn't want to say. Finally, he just said, "Take it with you, wherever you go. Green Dome has learned not to put all her hopes in one place."

That was the closest thing to a blessing that Khe Mien had ever heard from him, and she felt a sudden warmth welling up in her heart at that silent change — someone who once saw her as the embodiment of dangerous recklessness, now reminded her to preserve the very thing that symbolized her faith.

Vu Dinh Khoat arrived last, walking slowly from the direction of the Respiration Station, his face bearing a new wrinkle of worry that Khe Mien recognized immediately, although he tried to hide it behind a forced smile. He didn't say much — he'd never been one to talk much in moments like these — just placed a small cloth bundle in her hand, inside were a few water purification pills she'd never seen before.

“I just perfected this recipe last week,” he said, his voice low and careful as always when talking about work. "Filters out impurities that your old filter couldn't handle. I want you to have it before anyone else."

"Thank you, father," Khe Mien said, clutching the fabric bundle in her hand, clearly feeling that behind that technical gift was a love that could never be easily put into words between father and daughter, but was always present in every little detail he prepared for her.

"I'll be back," she added, looking straight into his eyes, knowing full well that this was what he really wanted to hear more than any thank you.

"I know," he replied, but his hand held her shoulder for a moment longer than necessary before letting go, as if trying to memorize the feeling in case the wait was longer than he wanted.

The small group gathered at the main gate as the sun rose higher through the mist — Khe Mien, Bach Lam, Diem Quynh, Kien, and the supply cart, waiting for Ngan The Binh to return from an early reconnaissance trip. There was no formal Send-Off Ceremony like the first time they left the Green Dome nearly four months ago — no crowd, no ceremony, just Bien Ba Uy standing quietly at the gate, along with a few guards and Tang Dieu Lam, who had taken a day off from work at the Respiratory Station to see his friend off.

"This time is not like last time," Dieu Lam said, hugging Khe Mien tightly in a short but heavy hug. "Last time, we didn't know what was waiting out there. This time, we know, and it's much scarier."

"That's right," Khe Mien admitted, not trying to pretend to be any braver than she actually felt. "But I think, precisely because we know, we can't stand still."

Ngan The Binh appeared from the edge of Dong Tro right at that moment, his steps were still steady even though he had walked a long way since early morning, his face had a serious look that made the group wait in silence.

“The route is safe, at least as far as the edge of the low hills,” he reported, his voice steady as always. "But I saw heavy motor vehicle tracks about half a day's journey from here, heading south — maybe Binh Diem's patrolling, maybe just a merchant group. We need to be more careful than usual."

"We always walk carefully," Bach Lam said, slinging his backpack on his shoulder with a decisive movement that had become second nature after many years of traveling. "But this time, it won't be too much to be more careful."

Bien Ba Uy stepped forward as they set off, placing a hand on Khe Mien's shoulder, his eyes carrying the weight of responsibility that he had never truly put down since the day he became Head of the Dome. "I'm not sending you off like an expedition anymore," he said. "I send you off as a representative of the Green Dome, taking with you the honor of all of us. Remember that, whatever you do out there."

“I will remember,” Khe Mien said, bowing slightly to him in a gesture of respect she rarely used, but felt appropriate in this moment.

The main gate opened, and the small group stepped through the familiar threshold, entering Dong Tro under the increasingly harsh morning sunlight. Khe Mien looked back at Mai Loc one last time before turning to follow the path Ngan The Binh had scouted, seeing her father's figure still standing there, a figure that grew smaller but never took his eyes off her until the distance made it impossible.

They headed east, across the familiar cracks of earth, but this time, the air carried a difference that Khe Mien clearly felt from the first steps — not the usual dead silence of Dong Tro, but a tense stillness, as if the land itself was holding its breath waiting for something to happen.

In the middle of the afternoon, when the whole group stopped for a short rest in the shadow of a large rock, Kien, leading with Ngan The Binh to observe the terrain, suddenly stopped, his hand raised to signal silence.

"There's smoke," he said softly, pointing toward the distant horizon, where a thin column of smoke was rising, writhing in the hot air like a gray scar against the pale blue sky.

The group stopped, all eyes following that direction in silence. It was not the smoke of an ordinary campfire—too big, too rich, and without the signs of intentional care that a cooking fire usually carries.

"That's the direction of the settlement," Ngan The Binh said, his voice low. "It's not as far away as I thought."

Khe Mien felt a chill run down her spine, and in that moment, she understood that no matter how much preparation they had done, no matter how many warnings they had heard, nothing could truly make people ready to face the consequences of war head-on until they stood before it with their own eyes.

"Let's continue," she said, her voice steadier than she felt in her heart, clutching the handle of the seed box tightly to her chest as a reassuring habit had been ingrained in her since the early days of her apprenticeship. "They need us more than ever, right now."

Bach Lam looked at her for a moment, then nodded, signaling the group to continue moving towards that distant column of smoke - towards a war that, until today, had only been told through rumors and the panicked faces of refugees, but was now waiting for them in its most naked form.