Chapter 79
The meeting room, located inside a temporary command fortress, was pieced together from metal plates and energy membranes salvaged from the ruins. The walls were still drafty, and the floor was still stained with blood, but all the surviving generals, researchers, and frontline representatives were forcibly summoned.
The projection in the center of the round table continuously played the clip of the "Third Force" lowering a light screen from the sky to counterbalance the rift incarnations.
Everyone's expression was complex—awe, fear, anticipation, and anger intertwined to create a suffocating silence.
Finally, the first controversy erupted.
Researcher Yar stood up, his gaze intense, his voice hoarse yet impassioned:
"Didn't you see? We exhausted our entire army, and we only managed to damage a small part of one of the incarnations!"
But that light from beyond the sky easily suppressed it!
"That is the true 'order'! If we want to survive, we should willingly submit to a higher-dimensional being!"
Some agreed, while others sneered.
Commander Herang slammed his fist on the table:
Do you want to turn us from 'slaves of the rift' into 'beasts of the old gods'?
Have you ever heard that light say a word to us?
It didn't even glance at us—to it, we were nothing more than ants on the ground!
He raised his hand and pointed to the huge tree shadow on the screen:
"It controls the rift, not for our benefit!"
—But they are fighting for sovereignty over this land!
If we kneel down, we will only lose our right to speak forever!
Veteran councilor Solan slowly began to speak:
"You two are both gambling."
One bets that the gods will protect us, the other bets that one day we will rebel against the gods.
But now we even have difficulty 'repairing the wounded'.
"We can't even finish fighting the war, so what's the point of talking about resistance or surrender?"
She looked at the live video feed of the medical pod at the very end of the meeting.
In the footage, 237 is lying in the repair chamber, with Sprout 12 sitting beside it, and half of its reconstructed arm still intermittently glowing.
Suolan's voice was deep:
"We can argue about the path forward."
But the most crucial question now is—do we still deserve to be left in this world?
The meeting fell silent for a moment.
Until a voice suddenly rang out softly:
"—What if we actively engage in dialogue with that 'Will of the Heavens'?"
Everyone looked up.
The speaker was a hooded observer whose identification badge read:
[The Rift Whisperer - Level Confidential]
He wasn't seated; he just stood at the door, his voice calm yet eerie:
"We have spent decades trying to understand the 'whispers of the rift'..."
"Now, perhaps we can try to understand another, higher voice."
"Since they have lowered their power, they must have something in return for it."
"The question is—are you willing to let 237 and Sprout 12 act as 'messengers' to contact that light?"
The entire audience erupted in uproar.
Some were terrified, some were excited, and some immediately objected.
Because this means:
The two heroes who have just crawled out of purgatory will once again be placed on the altar.
Inside the medical pod, liquid repair factors were flowing slowly, and 237's body was suspended in a translucent green liquid.
His breathing was weak and steady, and his face was still etched with the marks of exhaustion.
But deep in his consciousness, he was not asleep.
In the darkness, it seemed as if a staircase of light and shadow was extending.
At the end of the stairs lies a churning sea of void.
A whisper sounded in my ear.
Unlike the roar of the rift, that sound was more ancient and indifferent, like the lingering echoes from the beginning of time.
"...offspring..."
...fragments of the diversion...
...Why are you struggling here...
237 could not respond, but the beating of its heart resonated with the whisper.
The bright white mark on his chest began to flicker, overlapping with the frequency of the sound.
A tree shadow suddenly appeared on the surface of the void sea.
The tree trunk was enormous, its branches and leaves pierced through time and space, and its roots penetrated into endless darkness.
That is—
The true consciousness of the mother tree?
Or is it the more ancient "Order of the Old Gods"?
In the light and shadow, a wisp of a tree root slowly droops down, touching 237's forehead.
The medical monitoring system suddenly emitted a sharp alarm.
The repair fluid surged violently, and a strange double vein appeared on the surface of the hull—half black flames, half blazing white.
Sprout 12 suddenly stood up and stared into the cabin.
She could feel it—
Someone, or some kind of being, is communicating with "this world" through 237.
She couldn't get in at all.
The tree shadows opened low:
“You are…[Vessel 237].
...In your blood and memory flows the [mark of the broken branch].
...Answer me—
Would you rather be a mediator or a severer?
237's eyes slowly opened in the darkness.
There was no sound, but a clear will burst forth from his chest:
"I will not become anyone's puppet."
In an instant, the shadow of the giant tree, now shimmering with light, began to shake violently.
The Void Sea surged with enormous waves, as if enraged by his refusal.
But beneath the anger, another emotion subtly emerges:
interest.
"……interesting.
...Then let's see if you can still stand above this realm in the next 'harvest'."
The roots suddenly retracted, and the entire void collapsed abruptly.
237 suddenly opened his eyes and struggled to exhale a breath from the repair fluid.
A fleeting trace of a tree shadow flickered briefly in the depths of his pupils before disappearing.
Sprout 12 rushed over to support him and whispered:
"What...did you just see?"
237 was panting, his gaze complex, his voice hoarse:
"...something higher than the fissure."
They...are already watching us.
The liquid was gradually drained, and the repair chamber slowly opened.
237 emerged from the chilly fog, still breathing heavily, his body not yet fully recovered.
Sprout 12 stood to the side, her gaze sharp, yet tinged with worry.
"What...did you see?" she pressed.
237. A moment of silence.
In my memory, the tremor of that upside-down giant tree, its roots touching my forehead, is still vivid.
If this matter were told to the command headquarters, it would inevitably lead to a new division: some people would want to use this opportunity to defect, while others would certainly advocate for complete confrontation.
The shadow of that tree might even be waiting for them to lose their composure.
He took a deep breath and shook his head.
"...Just some noise. Residual battle hallucinations."
Sprout 12 stared at him, not immediately believing him.
She noticed the hesitation and repression in 237's eyes, as if he were carrying a secret he didn't want to reveal.
After a long while, she whispered:
"If you choose not to tell me... then just tell me one answer."
Is it an enemy, or not?
237's Adam's apple trembled slightly.
Finally, he responded in a low voice:
"It's not something we can rely on."
Ya Dou nodded and gently pressed the back of his hand.
"That's enough. As for the rest... we'll face it ourselves."
Meanwhile, heated debates were taking place in the high-level meeting room.
"The power demonstrated by the third force far exceeds all our understanding!"
"Perhaps it is the key to salvation!"
"Absurd! It's a threat, just like the rift—depending on it will only make us slaves!"
The name 237 was mentioned multiple times.
Some hoped he would provide an explanation "as a key survivor witness".
But the medical ward's response was only one sentence:
— "237 is still recovering and unable to attend."
At this moment, he was standing side by side with Sprout 12, quietly guarding this secret that no one else knew.
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