Chapter 81
At the end of the crack, there is no solid ground.
It was a floating sea of light, with roots and fragments of memory interwoven into a flowing net, as if the entire space was breathing.
Once you step inside, time and direction lose their meaning.
Sprout 12 was the first to feel a tightness in her chest, and the fragments of the mother tree inside her body began to resonate.
"...Something's not right, this isn't a physical space."
She tried to back away, but found that the stream of light beneath her feet had already wrapped around her ankles, soft yet impossible to break free from.
237. Look up.
In the far distance of his vision, there floated an upside-down tree shadow—its branches like a galaxy, its roots pointing straight to the sky.
Every leaf and branch shimmers with the lingering light of memories, and one can vaguely hear hundreds of voices whispering and overlapping.
Those voices seemed to be welcoming them, yet also scrutinizing them.
"...Fragments...return..."
"...the continuation of errors...should not continue..."
"...but it chose...to observe..."
The 237-point heart spot on the forehead began to throb violently.
He heard a voice, separate from all the whispers, ringing out alone in his mind.
That was not a cold, divine voice, but a being full of reason and compassion.
"You carry the tampered spark."
It doesn't belong to your era, but it reignites within you.
"...Tell me, 237—are you willing to return it?"
Sprout 12 also heard the call, and she clutched her chest in anguish: "Ignore it... that's not the Mother Tree's consciousness!"
237 did not respond.
The voice continued: "Destruction is part of order."
Your resistance has shattered the order.
We are here only to make corrections.
The light in the space of consciousness suddenly changed.
The giant, upside-down tree began to slowly descend, its roots transforming into countless strands of light that coiled around them.
Every touch is accompanied by the shattering of memories—they see the past, the battlefield, the burning, the rebirth... everything intertwined in an instant.
Sprout 12 roared, and the light blades within its body exploded with platinum-gold flames, forcefully severing the entangled roots.
Her voice resonated like light in the realm of consciousness: "We are not mistakes—we are continuation!"
The sea of light then began to tremble violently.
237 seized the opportunity to grab her hand, and the light spot on his forehead suddenly compressed into a talisman, enveloping the two of them.
At that moment, the voice lowered slightly:
"...Interesting...So you still remember the shape of fire."
Then, a massive shadow opened its eyes deep within the sea of light.
It was an indescribable entity, neither tree, nor god, nor living being.
Rather, it is the will of a higher-dimensional order, whose gaze causes the entire realm of consciousness to collapse.
The sea of light surged, and the roots collapsed.
237 and Sprout 12 were thrown out of the realm of consciousness and crashed back into the crack in reality.
They were both panting heavily, their skin still glistening in the afterglow.
Sprout 12 gritted her teeth: "Then... what exactly is that?"
237 had a gloomy expression, and the talisman on his forehead was faintly glowing.
He answered in a low voice:
"—An existence older than the mother tree."
They don't create... they 'maintain'.
The earth was eerily quiet after the storm.
The main trunk of the mother tree collapsed completely, leaving only countless charred roots curled up in the wind.
The remaining light dust floated in the air, like dead stars.
Communications at all frontline units have been restored.
Few survived.
Inside the medical pod, Sprout 12's body was still recovering. Her consciousness was half-submerged on the edge of a dream, when she heard people arguing in hushed tones.
She opened her eyes and saw several high-ranking officials sitting around a round table behind the transparent observation window outside the cabin.
That was the first formal meeting after the war.
On the holographic screen, a blurry energy map floats—that is the energy waveform of the "Third Force" recorded by 237.
It does not belong to the parent tree system, nor to any known energy level framework.
Some call it the echo of the Old Gods, others call it the original source.
However, some scientific officials have simply defined it as: "a high-dimensional interferometer".
The atmosphere at the meeting was tense and fraught with tension.
“We must admit,”
Commander Karen slammed his fist on the table, his voice hoarse.
"That thing suppressed the entire main consciousness belt in just three seconds."
If it so desires, we can't even retain our thoughts.
Another member of parliament responded calmly:
"Therefore, we should take the initiative to communicate. It may be a higher-level extension of the mother tree's consciousness—if we can access it, we may be able to rebuild the root network."
Opposition subsequently erupted.
"Access? That's surrender!"
Are you going to hand us all over as sacrifices?
"Without it, we might still be able to rebuild our own system!"
The screen is flickering.
Amidst all the noise, only one person remained silent.
——237.
He stood by the cabin door, his expression indifferent, as if he hadn't heard their argument at all.
Karen turned to him and asked, "You came into contact with that being yourself. Tell us, what was it?"
237 slowly raised his eyes.
A barely perceptible silver glint flashed deep within his pupils.
"It...has no name."
It is neither here to destroy nor to save.
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the crowd, his tone as cold as a blade.
It's just 'calibration'.
In its eyes, we are merely variables whose length is amplified by error.
Silence filled the conference room.
Someone gritted their teeth and asked, "Then what should we do?"
"Continue fighting, or kneel down?"
237's fingers gently tapped the metal railing.
He did not answer immediately.
Until Sprout 12's voice came from inside the medical pod: "—We must survive."
Everyone was taken aback.
She struggled to sit up and looked at everyone.
"Whoever created us, we have broken free from its will."
If that is order—then we are wrong.
And mistakes can also lead to growth.
In an instant, even the electronic buzzing in the air disappeared.
237 tilted his head slightly and looked at her.
At that moment, the talisman on his forehead flashed. No one noticed that something was responding from within that faint light.
The night was so deep it was almost transparent.
The medical pod's photomask switched to low-energy mode, leaving only a few pulse lines slowly flickering on the screen.
The electrical hum from the base sounded like the tides of the distant sea, lapping against my ears in waves.
Sprout 12 was already asleep, and the mechanical repair arm was weaving fine silver threads on her body.
237 remained seated on the side of the cabin and did not leave.
He leaned against the cold metal wall, his eyes vacant, his breathing so faint it was almost inaudible.
My palm unconsciously rested on the light imprint on my chest—
That was the resonance mark left when they attacked together, and it is still faintly flickering now.
Sudden--
A very low humming sound came from the air.
It was neither the sound of equipment nor the wind.
It was a vibration that pierced through consciousness, emanating from the deepest recesses of space.
It's like someone is calling from the other side of a dream.
--【return】.
—【Correction point has appeared】.
— [Individual 237, connection confirmed.]
His pupils contracted sharply, and the talisman on his forehead lit up on its own.
The surrounding space trembled slightly, and the light on the walls began to bend.
All sounds vanished instantly.
He "saw" some indescribable scene:
The three-dimensional structure, composed of countless rays of light, resembles an upside-down World Tree.
Each ray of light is a node of consciousness, intertwined, flickering, and annihilating with one another.
And at the deepest point—
A huge, invisible eye was staring at him.
It has no color, no emotion, yet it creates an irresistible illusion of submission.
The voice came again, calm and ruthless:
"You have been selected as the modified residual sequence."
Continue to deviate, or revert to one completely.
237 gritted his teeth, his forehead dripping with cold sweat.
He tried to break free, but his mind felt as if it were entangled by countless fine threads.
Images flashed through my mind—the moment the mother tree collapsed, the gaze of Sprout 12, and that blade intertwined with light and darkness.
"...I am not your tool."
He responded in a low voice, his tone tinged with blood and pain.
The three-dimensional light structure slowly distorted, and the invisible eye slightly contracted.
"Resistance, being recorded."
"Observe, continue."
"Individual abnormalities: Retained."
The next second, the whole world suddenly shattered.
He suddenly opened his eyes—
Back to the medical pod.
Sweat soaked through his clothes, but the light imprint on his chest still shimmered.
All the readings on the monitor were a jumbled mess.
He looked around; Sprout 12 was still asleep.
He reached out and pressed the mute button, deleting all his abnormal readings.
Nobody knows what just happened.
—Except for himself.
237 sat quietly for a long time.
Finally, he whispered to the sleeping Sprout 12:
It is watching...
The two of us.
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