The campfire crackled, and sparks hit Lin Yi's blood-stained sleeve, burning his hand.
As Long Wu used his military knife to pry open the tattered cloth on his knee and pressed the alcohol swabs against it, he stared at the screen inside the metal box, as if he were nailed to the spot.
"Boss, bite on a piece of cloth if it hurts." Long Wu's voice was muffled behind his mask, but the force of his fingertips was unusually light—the dragon scales under his shoulder armor were still bleeding, as he had just used his body to shield Lin Yi from a falling rock in the ruins.
Chu Yao's projection suddenly flickered violently, and the blue-white data stream swirled into a vortex in her eyes. "A deep encryption layer has been detected." Her voice was a half-octave higher than usual, a rare fluctuation in its otherwise mechanical tone. "This isn't an ordinary file... it's the core database of the 'Faith Project.'"
The metal box suddenly emitted a buzzing sound, and the blood-red words on the screen twisted as if alive, splitting into countless points of light that drilled into Chu Yao's fingertips.
Her projection instantly materialized, electronic snowflakes appearing on the hem of her white lab coat: "Lin Yi, your biometrics are being matched..."
\"bite--\"
A holographic projection unfolded above everyone's heads, and countless semi-transparent experimental logs surged forth like a tide.
Lin Yi saw his own face: a profile of himself playing games in an internet cafe at seventeen, a back view of himself carrying a tray in the cafeteria at twenty, and even a close-up of his broken knee at the high school sports meet—each photo had the number "Observation Record-001" in the lower right corner.
"This is impossible." Long Wu's battle sword clattered to the ground. He jumped up, knocking over the medical kit. "Our boss only got involved with 'Infinite' three years ago, these..."
"Three years ago?" Xuanmingzi suddenly grabbed his wrist.
The old Taoist priest's fingertips trembled, his palm beneath his robe pressed against the bronze compass on his chest. "Do you know that the game's mainframe was created twenty years ago?" He looked up, his pupils reflecting the holographic projection of "Initial Observation Record of March 17, 2015." "I was once part of the mainframe..." His voice suddenly went hoarse, as if choked by something. "Twenty years ago, there was a project called 'Faith Incubation,' the goal of which was to cultivate living containers capable of carrying the faith of a civilization."
Lin Yi's temples throbbed.
The power of time and space domination surged in his veins. He suddenly remembered that every time he used the time rift, he always felt a faint thread pulling him—not a rule, but more like... guidance.
"You didn't acquire your mythical profession by chance." Xuan Mingzi staggered, steadying himself on the metal box. The compass burned in his palm. "Back then, the mainframe detected that Earth's civilization's faith threshold was too low. The advanced civilization wanted to terminate the trial... They needed a 'perfect vessel,' to prove, with your growth data, that humanity deserved to be preserved."
The campfire burst into flames with a "boom," illuminating Lin Yi's taut jawline.
He slowly raised his hand, and a pale golden time-space emblem appeared in his palm—the symbol of a mythical profession.
A thin crack suddenly appeared in the center of the emblem, and the overflowing light particles formed a line of code in the air, which perfectly matched the "Faithful One No. 0" data that was constantly scrolling in the holographic projection.
"This is..." Chu Yao's finger hovered over the code. "The trajectory of your faith power and the fluctuation frequency of the system's underlying code... are synchronized at 99.7%." For the first time, her projection showed a panicked expression, and the blue light at the tips of her hair dimmed slightly. "It's not that you've adapted to the system, it's that the system... is adapting to you."
Long Wu suddenly squatted down and pressed Lin Yi's shoulder with his calloused hands.
He didn't speak, but the warmth of his palm seeped through the blood-stained fabric, like a piece of red-hot iron.
Lin Yi closed his eyes.
Fragments of memories suddenly flooded back: the faint "guiding voice" in my ear when I first triggered the hidden class; the silver scales I always saw in my dreams before each breakthrough; even three days ago, when I was fighting the interdimensional legion, despite having exhausted all my strength, a warm current surged from my heart...
"So those players who called me the 'Chosen One'..." He opened his eyes, the light in them brighter than the campfire, "...actually, it was a higher civilization choosing a guinea pig, raising it to see if it could grow what they wanted?"
"No." Xuanmingzi suddenly grabbed his wrist, the bronze emblem on the compass glowing with an eerie light. "Back then, the mainframe secretly altered some of the data."
I remember…” His gaze suddenly drifted into the distance, as if he were seeing himself twenty years ago through a campfire. “A researcher rushed into the lab carrying an infant in swaddling clothes, saying, ‘This child can see the future.’”
The mastermind at the time said, 'He would be the perfect vessel for faith'... but the researcher ultimately said, 'I want him to choose for himself.'"
The metal box suddenly emitted a piercing alarm, and the holographic projection began to collapse.
Chu Yao's projection was torn to pieces by the data stream, and then instantly reassembled: "Core data is about to self-destruct!"
The last record —
Everyone held their breath.
"On May 12, 2035, Believer No. 0 awakened the Mythical Class."
Conclusion: The container is perfect, and the civilization's survival rate increases to 92%.
Recommendation: Activate the 'Ragnarok' protocol...
The alarm stopped abruptly. Smoke billowed from the metal box, and the screen went completely black.
The camp fell into a deathly silence.
Only Long Wu's battle sword lay on the ground, its blade reflecting Lin Yi's face—his expression was unreadable, his fingertips digging deeply into his palms, pressing crescent-shaped red marks into his skin.
"Boss..." Long Wu had just opened his mouth when he was interrupted by Ivan's voice.
The original host of the nest stood at the edge of the campfire, the runes on the scabbard of the short blade glowing with a ghostly blue light.
His Russian accent was heavier than usual, as if each word had to roll around in his throat several times before he could utter it: "What I sensed in the basement of the research institute..." He stared at the undying spacetime emblem on Lin Yi's palm, "That ancient, angry thing... it might not be a robot..."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the scattered metal fragments, over the scorching compass in Xuan Mingzi's arms, and finally landing on the surging light particles in Lin Yi's eyes.
"Perhaps... another 'believer'."
The firelight cast flickering shadows on Ivan's face, and the runes on his short-bladed scabbard suddenly glowed a blinding blue, as if activated by some force. "If the Mother Nest developed based on your consciousness model..." His Adam's apple bobbed, his Russian accent almost cracking, "Then has it been trying to return to you?"
These words were like a fine needle piercing Lin Yi's temple.
He recalled the battle with the core of the brood chamber three days ago, when the spreading tentacles would hesitate the moment they touched his skin, as if recognizing something; and the hoarse "father" syllable before the core of the brood chamber collapsed—at the time he thought it was a hallucination, but now it sounded like a thunderclap.
"Boss?" Long Wu's battle knife clattered against the metal box, making the lid jump.
He ripped off his mask and threw it on the ground, revealing a hideous dragon scale scar on his left cheek. "Whatever plan, whatever number 0!"
You are you, and no one can define your life!
These words were like a bucket of ice water poured over my head.
Lin Yi stared at the throbbing veins on Long Wu's neck—a sign that he always fought desperately before; then he looked at Xuan Mingzi's hand, which was gripping the compass tightly under his Taoist robe, his knuckles white but he never let go; Chu Yao's projection was still flickering, but it had quietly shifted ten centimeters to his side, as if silently protecting him.
"Old Dragon is right." Xuan Mingzi suddenly chuckled, the bronze emblem on the compass finally calming down. "I should have known when that researcher stormed into the lab—" He released the compass, tiny cracks appearing on the bronze surface. "Some things were never part of the calculations of advanced civilizations from the very beginning."
\"drop--\"
Chu Yao's projection suddenly froze into a static image, the blue-white data stream condensing into a swirling ball of light in her eyes. "Hidden protocol detected!" Her voice crackled with static, and her fingertip jabbed into the void. The static on the holographic screen was suddenly torn open, revealing a line of scarlet code: "Access to the Divine Realm -a requires authentication."
"God's Realm-A?" Long Wu leaned closer, his dragon scales gleaming dark gold in the firelight. "Sounds like the final dungeon in a game?"
"No." Chu Yao's projection resumed flowing, the blue light at the tips of her hair brighter than ever before. "This is an existence independent of the 'Infinite' main server, its physical location..." Her finger traced three-dimensional coordinates in the void, "...right three thousand meters below us."
The ground in the camp suddenly began to shake.
Xuanmingzi's compass emitted a clear "hum," and a ghostly green glow seeped from the cracks in the bronze; Ivan's short blade runes resonated with the ground, branding the soil with tiny lightning patterns; Long Wu's dragon scales stood up one by one, as if responding to some ancient call.
Lin Yi squatted down and placed his palm on the still warm metal box.
The Spacetime Emblem appeared automatically, and pale golden light particles burrowed into the ground from his fingertips, weaving a semi-transparent net in the soil—at the end of the net was a cocoon of light wrapped in dark purple energy, contracting and expanding in rhythm with his heartbeat.
"That is..." His voice was hoarse.
"Server core." Chu Yao's projection suddenly materialized, the hem of her white lab coat even smudged with dirt. "According to residual data, 'Divine Realm-a' stores all observation records about you from 2015 to the present, including..." She paused, "...your mother's research log."
The air froze instantly.
Lin Yi's pupils contracted sharply—he had never mentioned to anyone that he grew up in an orphanage, and his only possession was a jade pendant engraved with the character "Lin".
At this moment, a trace of warm gold, the same as that of the jade pendant, seeped out from the narrow crevice at the center of the spacetime emblem.
"I want to go in." He stood up, his military boots rolling over Long Wu's mask. "Now."
"Boss!" Long Wu grabbed his wrist, dragon scales brushing against the back of his hand. "We don't know what's down there yet, at least until Chu Yao simulates the safe passage—"
"There's no time." Lin Yi grasped Long Wu's hand in return, the heat of his palm burning through the dragon scales. "The frequency of the ground tremors just now was exactly the same as when the core of the mother nest awakened three days ago." He turned to Chu Yao, "How long will it take to connect?"
Chu Yao's fingertips danced in the air, data streams spiraling around her: "The mainframe's remaining computing power is sufficient to support basic simulations, but..." Her projection suddenly froze, "Reverse scan detected. The other side is reading our biometrics!"
"Then let it see." Lin Yi loosened his collar, revealing the faintly visible spacetime emblem on his chest. "Let it see that the person who's been raised like a guinea pig for twenty years is now going to lift the cage."
Chu Yao's eyes suddenly turned into a pure stream of data, but her voice was as clear as if it were right next to his ear: "Access port locked, your biometric key required."
Lin Yi did not hesitate.
He bit his fingertip and pressed the blood bead onto the authentication area of the holographic screen.
The moment the pale golden blood touched the screen, the tremors on the ground intensified, and a ghostly blue light seeped from the scorch marks on the metal box—that was the energy of the Mother Nest's core, flowing along his blood and intertwining with the light particles of the Spacetime Emblem to form a glowing chain.
"Lin Yi!" Xuan Mingzi suddenly lunged forward, green smoke billowing from the cracks in the compass. "This is..."
"It's an invitation." Lin Yi gazed in the direction the chains extended, his eyes brighter than ever. "Twenty years ago, someone said I should choose for myself, but now..." He pulled away Long Wu's hand, which was gripping his, "I choose to step into the starting point voluntarily."
Chu Yao's projection suddenly split into nine, each displaying a code wall in a different location: "The simulation channel will take ten minutes. I will synchronize your vital signs..."
"No need." Lin Yi bent down, picked up Long Wu's mask, and put it on his own face. The cool metal felt against his skin. "Tell Old Long, if I'm not back in half an hour..." He winked at Long Wu, "then bring the Time Air Force to storm in and rescue him."
Before the words were finished, the cocoon of light on the ground suddenly burst forth with blinding white light.
The moment Lin Yi's figure was swept into the stream of light, he vaguely heard Chu Yao exclaim: "The port parameters are self-correcting!"
It's... adapting to your frequency!
When the white light dissipated, only Long Wu remained in the camp, clutching half a torn piece of clothing, his knuckles white; Xuan Mingzi's compass had completely cracked, revealing a jade pendant fragment engraved with the character "Lin" inside; Ivan's short blade was stuck where the cocoon of light had disappeared, the runes still hissing.
"Boss..." Long Wu's voice was hoarse like sandpaper, "Don't make me the one to bail him out."
Chu Yao's projection re-condensed. She stared at the remaining light marks on the ground and quickly typed out a line of code with her fingertips.
On the interface visible only to her, the "God Realm-a Access Success Rate" was climbing at a rate of 10% per second, eventually stopping at 99.9%.
"Match detected: Believer No. 0, Lin Yi."
"Channel opening countdown: 5, 4, 3..."
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