The water surged backward, and Chen Hao's figure instantly disappeared from the monitoring range. The sound in his earpiece was fragmented; he only caught two words from Susan's shout: "Return to base."

He didn't stop.

The thrusters were still running, and the vibrations from my back were steady and continuous. The gyroscope on my diving suit showed a depth of 240 meters. The terrain ahead began to sink, and the seabed seemed to have been torn open by something, leading diagonally into deeper places.

This is the E-7.

He slowed down and switched to manual pulse propulsion. With each push, his body slid forward a short distance, saving power and remaining quiet. The sonar image flashed briefly inside the helmet, indicating signal loss, before turning into a static-filled screen.

"Nana? Can you hear me?"

No one responded.

He tried communicating twice more, but only heard static. The navigation system also started acting up, with coordinates jumping around like someone was randomly pressing switches. He glanced down at the built-in terrain map—a rough version that Nana had pre-loaded, with sparse lines and question marks around the edges.

"Fine," he muttered, "Anyway, nobody cares about me anymore."

He moved slowly along the edge of a sea ridge. The rock formations here were black, with strange patterns on their surface, like metal that had been burned and then cooled. The magnetic interference was so strong that even the compass was spinning. He simply turned off the automatic balance and controlled the direction by feel.

Ten minutes later, a faint connection notification suddenly popped up in the corner of the helmet: Signal recovery 12%.

“Oh my, you’re still alive?” Susan’s voice was broken. “We thought you were dead.”

“It’s sturdier than you think,” he said. “I’m on the edge of a ditch now, and it’s so dark you can’t see the bottom.”

"Don't go down!" Karl interrupted. "We haven't confirmed the structural stability yet!"

"I'm already inside, why are you bringing this up now?" He chuckled. "Besides, the clothes recognize me; they won't let me die."

As soon as he finished speaking, the thruster vibrated slightly.

“Look!” he pointed to the camera, “it nodded again!”

“It’s a system reset,” Nana said calmly. “It’s not a response to you.”

"Fine, don't believe me then." He adjusted his posture. "I'm going to walk down a bit further and film some footage."

“At least keep communication open,” Susan said. “If we lose contact for more than three minutes, we’ll activate the rescue protocol.”

"Agreement my foot! Do you think you can bail me out?" he said, but still switched to recording mode. "Let's begin."

He released the push button, allowing his body to slowly slide into the deep ditch.

The temperature plummeted, and the water pressure rose. The diving suit emitted a faint hissing sound as the outer layer tightened automatically. His field of vision narrowed, and the last glimmer of light overhead quickly vanished. He switched on his headlamp, the beam piercing the darkness and illuminating a floating, wispy mass that spun slowly like ashes.

Fifty meters down, the sonar suddenly sounded an alarm.

A large area of ​​mobile heat sources appeared within three kilometers ahead.

More than three hundred of them, arranged neatly, moved forward in a wave-like pattern.

"What is this?" He stopped immediately. "A school of fish? But their formation is too perfect."

"Analyzing," Nana's voice came back in. "Turn off active detection and switch to passive mode."

He turned off the sonar transmitter, leaving only the receiver function enabled. His headlamp was also turned off, and he remained motionless in the water.

A few minutes later, light appeared in the distance.

Pale blue, flashing on and off, like breathing.

Then, a group of translucent, umbrella-shaped creatures emerged from the darkness. They were not large, about sixty centimeters wide, with a faint glow around their edges and fine, thread-like structures connecting their tentacles, which shimmered rhythmically with their movements.

What's most strange is their movement.

All the individual units open and close simultaneously, in unison, as if pulled by the same thread. They maintain a fixed distance while moving, forming a constantly changing geometric shape as a whole.

"These things... they line up?" Chen Hao held his breath. "Or are they dancing?"

“The behavioral pattern is abnormal,” Nana said. “It does not match the known deep-sea social organisms on Earth. Preliminary judgment is that it has the ability to transmit information.”

"You mean, they can notify each other?"

“More than that.” She paused. “It’s more like shared perception.”

Chen Hao didn't speak, and slowly approached to a distance of 500 meters.

Just as he adjusted the angle to prepare to take the picture, the entire group suddenly stopped moving.

All the umbrella-shaped objects simultaneously turned in his direction.

The blue light on the tentacles flashed three times in sync, then slowly dispersed, forming a ring around his location.

“Hey,” he said softly, “I’m just passing by.”

No one answered.

The group of creatures remained still and did not approach, but simply maintained their encirclement posture, with the light patterns still flashing regularly.

“They’ve spotted you,” Susan said tautly. “Step back, don’t provoke them.”

“I didn’t move,” he said. “I even turned off the thrusters.”

“I recommend freezing all actions,” Nana said. “It’s impossible to determine at this time whether it’s aggressive, but the alert response is clear.”

He removed his hand from the control panel, even slowing his breathing. The helmet camera continued recording; the creatures in the footage were frozen like statues, with only light moving about them.

Time passed second by second.

Suddenly, one of them broke away from the group and drifted forward for more than ten meters.

It didn't approach; it just stayed there, its tentacles spreading out, and the blue light flashed seven times, gradually increasing in speed.

Then return to your original position.

“Was that… a signal?” Carl asked.

“It might be a test,” Nana said, “an attempt to establish a way of communication.”

"Shall I reply too?" Chen Hao raised his hand. "Does raising your hand count?"

“Don’t do anything rash,” Susan immediately stopped her. “We don’t know what this means.”

“But we have to try,” he said. “What if they’re just curious?”

He slowly raised his right hand and waved in the water.

The other side remained still for a few seconds.

Then, the creature moved forward again, this time flashing five times.

"It responded!" Carl exclaimed excitedly. "Five times! A corresponding wave!"

“Not necessarily,” Nana said. “We need more data to confirm the pattern.”

"Then let's do it a few more times." Chen Hao waved his hand twice more.

The other party repeated the previous five flashes.

The third time, he patted the helmet.

This time, the entire group lit up at the same time, the blue light connecting into one, like a galaxy suddenly rising from the seabed.

A few seconds later, the light went out.

They began to move slowly, their circular formation gradually closing in, but then stopped when they were about 300 meters away, dispersing back into their original wave-like formation and continuing to swim forward as if nothing had happened.

"Gone?" Chen Hao was stunned. "They...left already?"

“They made the decision,” Nana said, “based on some kind of collective judgment mechanism.”

"So, in other words," he stared at the receding lights, "they weren't a group of fish swimming aimlessly, but... a sentient being?"

"Current evidence supports this hypothesis," she said. "The behavior is consistent with the characteristics of a distributed neural network, and it is highly likely to have a rudimentary social structure."

"My God," Karl muttered, "have we stumbled upon a deep-sea civilization?"

“Don’t talk nonsense,” Susan said. “It’s too early to draw conclusions.”

“But we can’t deny it.” Chen Hao watched the video playback, “They know I’m watching them, and they know what I did. They might even… understand that I want to communicate.”

"What do we do next?" Carl asked.

“Continue to observe,” Nana said. “It is recommended to maintain distance and avoid proactive intervention.”

“But I’m already here,” Chen Hao said. “Why don’t we take more photos and information back while they’re not hostile?”

“No,” Susan firmly objected. “The signal is unstable. If something happens, no one will know where you are.”

“I know where I am,” he said. “And my clothes are still on, and the thrusters are working. As long as I don’t do anything reckless, it shouldn’t be a big problem.”

“The problem is,” Nana said, “you’re already courting death.”

He laughed: "But I'm still alive, aren't I?"

After a brief silence, Susan sighed: "I'll give you fifteen more minutes at most. After fifteen minutes, regardless of whether there are any new discoveries, you must return."

"Ten minutes later," he said. "I don't want to go back so soon."

He restarted the thrusters, set the minimum power, and followed the swarm in parallel, always maintaining a distance of more than 500 meters.

The helmet camera was on the whole time, recording every change in light patterns, formation adjustments, and individual behavior.

Along the way, the group turned around twice more, each time briefly facing him, flashing its light a certain number of times, and then continuing on its way.

“They are conveying information,” Nana analyzed. “The frequency, rhythm, and intervals are all regular. This is not a random reaction.”

"Can it be deciphered?"

“It will take time,” she said, “but one thing is certain—they have become aware of our presence and have chosen a non-confrontational approach to deal with it.”

"They're quite friendly."

“That doesn’t mean we’ll always be friendly,” Susan cautioned. “Don’t forget, we know nothing about them.”

Chen Hao didn't reply. He stared at the flowing blue light ahead and suddenly felt that the seabed was no longer as lifeless as before.

These creatures didn't cry out, charge, or bite, yet they gave him a real sense of oppression for the first time.

It doesn't come from danger, but from the unknown.

He recorded one last video and checked the time.

“Alright,” he said. “I’m going to turn around in ten minutes.”

“It’s best to keep your word,” Susan said.

Just as he was about to change direction, the sonar suddenly detected new movement.

Eight hundred meters to the left front, another heat source is approaching.

It is larger in scale, moves faster, and has a reddish tint.

"What is that?" Karl's voice changed. "The second batch?"

Chen Hao turned the camera around.

In the darkness, a group of creatures with completely different appearances were rapidly approaching. They had long, narrow bodies, fins, and serrated swimming patterns, unlike the previous group which had been so orderly; instead, their movements appeared chaotic and hurried.

“Something’s not right,” he said. “They’re moving too fast.”

“I recommend an immediate evacuation,” Nana said. “The new group’s behavior patterns are completely different, and conflicts may arise.”

He didn't move.

The two teams met 600 meters away from him.

The blue light cluster stopped and reformed into a circular defensive array.

The red light clusters darted around the perimeter at high speed, their tentacles thrashing wildly and emitting high-frequency vibrations.

Then, one of them suddenly rushed towards the blue light cluster.

The blue light clusters flashed collectively, spreading out instantly like an umbrella to form a barrier around the body.

The impact occurred.

The water flow was violently agitated.

Chen Hao was pushed back several meters by the shockwave, and his helmet almost hit the rock wall.

He ignored the pain and stared intently at the screen.

The two groups of creatures faced off, neither willing to back down.