Chapter 972: Undercurrent in Deep Space

Chapter 972: Undercurrents in Deep Space

The air in the meeting room remained silent for many minutes.

Digesting the vast amount of information, Chu Guang sat at the conference table, long without speaking.

After a while, he pressed his index finger to his brow, rubbed it, and sorted out his thoughts before speaking.

"So... the Celestials extended a helping hand to the Southern Legion through the Enlightenment Society, providing them with a series of trump cards including the 'Death Agent' and the 'Seed of Gaia'?"

"Yes," Qi Liu nodded, speaking seriously. "Whether they are trump cards or not is debatable, but we have solid evidence proving that this is not technology owned by the Southern Legion."

Chu Guang looked at him, unable to comprehend.

"I don't understand. What is their motive... or rather, what exactly do they want to do?"

Why give this card to Tyr?

Unless—

They do not wish for the Wasteland Era to end.

Or rather, they want the Wasteland Era to fully descend into the Doomsday Era, accelerating it to the very end.

Only these two explanations exist.

He could think of no third.

Qi Liu was silent for a moment before speaking.

"The reason the Celestials are called Celestials is that they do not recognize us as their kin, or rather... having ascended to another dimension, they have drawn a clear line between us and them."

"Of course, the dimension I speak of here is not spatial, but existential."

Chu Guang rubbed his brow.

"Is there a more straightforward way to put it?"

Qi Liu cut to the chase.

"Have you heard of mind uploading?"

Chu Guang immediately caught on.

"You mean that thing from Vault 101?"

In fact, it wasn't just Vault 101. The Torch Church also used a method akin to distributed computing, dispersing minds across bionic chips, thus building an earthly 'Kingdom of Heaven' within a fictional 'Heaven.'

So...

The Celestials are the same?

No wonder the Torch Church went straight there!

A sense of sudden clarity dawned on Chu Guang.

Qi Liu, sitting across from him, nodded and said in a grave tone.

"To complete the expedition to the colony five light-years away, many in the expeditionary force abandoned their physical bodies long ago."

"It is difficult for us to analyze their thoughts using human logic, but through years of accumulated observation, we have still gleaned some useful information... They are not our kin, and this is not their home."

"Their kin and their home exist in their memories. They wish to return to the era of the People's Union, or rather, to that age of infinite prosperity."

"Even if, in our view, this is impossible—time can only move forward, never backward."

Chu Guang took a deep breath.

"So... they intend to destroy this planet?"

Qi Liu shook his head, then nodded.

"Have you never wondered why, since we possess gravity well technology, we didn't use it in the early Wasteland Era to bring down the debris in outer space?"

Chu Guang's pupils contracted.

"Could it be..."

Qi Liu nodded.

"We tried everything we could, naturally including deploying gravity wells. Even today, the Great Rift Valley still preserves a prototype gravity well. Yet, regrettably, when we drove gravitons to collapse the planet's gravitational field, a force no less formidable than our own interfered with our manipulation of gravity—and that force was located not far from us, at the Lagrange point."

He paused, then continued.

"Unfortunately, there are no 'ifs' in this world. But if we had succeeded in bringing that debris down back then, the radioactive dust alone would not have been enough to keep the winter going for half a century."

Chu Guang's throat moved.

"They want to kill everyone on this planet?"

"At least eliminate the majority, or regress the survivors to feudal dynasties, even the Stone Age, or simply turn them into animals," Qi Liu said in a calm tone. "Of course, they do not see this as genocide, but as a 'reset.'"

Chu Guang: "...Isn't that the same as the Enlightenment Society?"

Qi Liu nodded.

"That's why they get along with the Enlightenment Society, and they can make do with Tyr. Are you still surprised now that the Celestials gave the 'Seed of Gaia' card to Tyr?"

"I am not surprised, just lamenting," Chu Guang sighed. "They could have used these technologies to do something decent..."

But it must be admitted that their standpoint is indeed far higher than that of the Enlightenment Society.

And their understanding of cleansing is even more profound, to the point where they have no use even for the vault dwellers who preserved some sparks of the old era.

Qi Liu shook his head.

"They are no longer human. Dwelling on this is meaningless."

He paused, steering the conversation back to the issue of the 'Seed of Gaia.'

"Your research on Xiao Yu is actually very meaningful and is gradually getting on track. We did not want you to go astray, so we concealed the matter of the 'Seed of Gaia.'"

"After all, that technology brought profound disaster to us in the old era... At least in our view, you who are starting anew could have marched toward a better future."

"But as it turns out, we were shallow this time. Some things are indeed not suitable for children to play with, but some things are useless to hide. You will always find your own way to uncover the secrets hidden behind history, just as we once tirelessly explored the future."

"Your Xiao Yu, and Tyr of the Southern Legion... are in fact quasi-Gaia lifeforms, and the latter is highly likely to have been born through the 'Seed of Gaia.' What was bound to happen has finally happened."

"Conclusion: the Doctor says the time has come, and our Chief Technology Officer agrees."

"Perhaps from now on, we should face that shared past of ours more honestly."

Chu Guang stared at him intently.

"What we need is substantive help, not verbal comfort."

He had expected the Academy to be evasive and make excuses, but the next words from this Director of Investigation made him hold his breath.

"That is precisely why I am here."

"From now on, we will open to you all our research on gravitons, including anti-gravity technology—"

"Those technologies that you, as well as the Corporation and the Legion, once possessed but never truly owned."

"As for that research vessel, once you find it, don't bother dismantling it. It's meaningless."

...

The deep, dark void of space.

A battered starship hung silently in orbit, surrounded by fragments of varying sizes and fully sealed spacesuits, merging with the shattered wreckage to form an artificial asteroid belt.

This was the synchronous orbit, 36,000 kilometers above the equator.

It was also the most remote and nearly forgotten frontier on this azure wasteland, where scavengers rarely ventured.

Far from oxidizing environments, time had left few marks on these ruins of a bygone era; the arm patches and insignias of the Human Union Aerospace Force remained clearly visible.

Yet those former glories were long shrouded in dust, as insignificant as the sprawling debris around them.

But today was different. A silver-white spacecraft slowly approached from afar, prying open a corner of that coffin...

Inside the research vessel's cockpit.

A stoic man stared ahead, pale blue dots reflected in his pupils.

As the coordinates drew nearer, he activated the communication module and spoke in a calm voice.

"...This is Luo Yi. I have reached the designated coordinates and am about to enter the communication obstruction zone."

After a long pause, a reply laced with static crackled from the distant deep space.

"Received. Proceed."

"Understood."

Without further exchange, the man switched off the communication module, entering complete radio silence, then opened the throttle of the plasma engine, propelling the research vessel forward.

A plume of pale blue plasma shot out, driving the ship toward the dense "artificial asteroid belt" just ahead.

The raging metal storm grew denser—fragments of debris, large and small, hurtled at terrifying speeds along regular or irregular orbits.

They collided, splitting into smaller pieces in the vacuum, or releasing scattered sparks of electricity.

To enter this zone without protection would turn even a Titan into a sieve!

Yet as the research vessel sailed into the area, something unexpected happened!

The fragments that had been charging recklessly seemed to grow eyes, veering off their original paths, actively dodging aside!

It was as if an invisible hand shielded the ship, pushing away the deadly orbital junk and wreckage!

This was no supernatural force but the work of a deflector shield.

Of course, using this power came at a cost.

As the speeding fragments were repelled, the shield capacitor's energy drained rapidly!

[Warning! Shield capacitor remaining: 50%!]

[Warning! Shield capacitor remaining: 45%!]

[...]

The energy bar plummeted!

Though the reactor fed power ceaselessly to the shield capacitor, it couldn't keep up with the drain!

The man glanced at the holographic interface, his expression unchanged.

He seemed utterly indifferent to his own safety, or confident in navigating this perilous "water."

And indeed, that was the case.

When the shield capacitor dropped to nearly 3%, the research vessel barely came to a halt beside the battered starship.

At almost the same moment, the fragments striking the deflector shield sharply decreased, and the flashing red warning lights suddenly turned green!

The energy flowing from the reactor to the shield capacitor gradually replenished the deficit. The man tapped the holographic screen, locked onto a relatively safe access point, switched the plasma engine to burst-mode propulsion, and let the navigation system autonomously plot the landing course.

The crisis was over.

The research vessel, slowly docking at the access point, resembled a canoe breaking through a storm into a harbor, steadily approaching its welcoming pier.

Access point locked.

The ship successfully "dropped anchor."

"I have landed."

Having already turned off the communication module, he chose not to report to the Lagrange point space station, merely muttering this to himself. Then he unbuckled his seatbelt, left the seat, and floated toward the buffer chamber.

The inner hatch slowly opened, revealing several long-dead bodies floating silently inside.

[Buffer chamber opened. External pressure below safety threshold. Please wear full protective gear...]

The man paid no attention to the corpses or the safety warning hovering before him. He simply strapped on a jetpack, reached out, flipped open the safety cover on the wall, and punched the red button.

"Whoosh—!"

The red warning light flashed, accompanied by a piercing alarm, and the thick outer hatch slowly opened.

The air in the buffer chamber was instantly evacuated, and the floating bodies, as if yanked by ropes, were blown outside.

The man inside was no exception.

But he deliberately followed the airflow out, and the moment he left the hatch, he grabbed its edge, using the momentum to flip and change direction.

The fluid motion was as smooth as a pre-programmed sequence.

Standing atop the research vessel, the man glanced back, watching the bodies swallowed by the deep darkness, then turned his indifferent gaze to the towering wreck of the starship before him.

The awe felt up close was far more profound than from a distance.

The words [Orion-class Cruiser] were still clearly visible on the armored hull, unfaded by time.

Compared to that infinitely prosperous era, the people struggling on the wasteland were as insignificant as cockroaches.

Nourished by the rotting corpse of a giant, lurking in the dark—what else could they be but cockroaches?

But—

This was all about to end.

The man paused for a moment to admire this grand monument, then pressed the button in his hand.

"Hiss—"

The jetpack expelled a stream of white mist, propelling him toward the nearby entrance.

You've waited long enough.

Comrades.

...

[Since the Boro State authorities declared war on cockroaches, the pesticide concentration in the Eternal River's waters has surged. Massive numbers of cockroaches and other insect carcasses float on the river, attracting birds to feast, severely damaging the ecosystem.

Currently, this irrational war continues. Due to the absence of an ecological niche, red soil once again plays the role of decomposer. Meteorological drone footage shows that in many regions—Ox Province, Elephant Province, Wolf Province, Snake Province—the red soil, which had previously stopped expanding, is now spreading again.

To address the freshwater crisis caused by excessive chemical levels in the Eternal River system, the authorities of Golden Port have introduced seawater desalination equipment from the South Sea Alliance as an emergency measure, and have summoned Boro State's ambassador to Golden Port, Anwo, for negotiations over ecological damage.

With red soil expansion shrinking arable land, leading to reduced grain and cash crop yields, analysts fear this may prompt Sava to also declare war on red soil, triggering an even greater ecological disaster.

Mayor Yodu urged the media not to spread panic, stating that from a scientific perspective, declaring war on red soil is fundamentally impossible and utterly absurd—family members would have no reason and would never do such a thing.

But this statement seemed ineffective, instead intensifying panic, causing Golden Port citizens to hoard water and food.

— Survivor's Daily, Dawn City Edition]

】

Dawn City.

At the North Street of Linghu Wetland Park, Chu Guang sat at a noodle stall waiting for breakfast, flipping through the newspaper in his hands. He hadn’t expected the first page to reveal a giant cockroach, and with a look of “old man, subway, phone” on his face, he closed the paper again.

Sitting across from him was Cheng Yan, the Union’s Foreign Minister.

Seeing the expression on Chu Guang’s face, Cheng Yan knew he must have come across some news article, and so he teased him.

“There are no fools in the Bharata Province, especially in Golden Gallon Port. I’ve been there before, and the people there gave me the impression that even the newsboys wandering the streets have ten thousand money-making schemes in their heads.”

Chu Guang shook his head, pulled two chopsticks from the bamboo tube on the table, and wiped them with a napkin.

“Fools can’t do much harm; what’s scary is when clever people do stupid things.”

Several days had passed since his meeting with the head of the Academy’s Investigation Department. During that time, nothing particularly noteworthy had happened in the Union, and the *Survivor Daily*, with nothing better to report, had once again put the trivial affairs of Tianshu on the front page.

Perhaps because Dolly had taken some people to develop the Great Wasteland and the Bartoa Province, the level of the Dawn City editorial team had dropped again and again. They hadn’t even bothered to pick a decent photo, using one of the mutated cockroaches from Clearwater City instead.

Where in the Bharata Province would you find something that big?

Still, the *Survivor Daily* wasn’t an official Union organ, so he couldn’t just keep dropping by there.

Last time he went, he almost made the editor-in-chief cry.

Just as he tossed the napkin into the wastebasket, a young man carrying bowls of noodles rushed over briskly.

“Noodles are here! Enjoy your meal, you two!”

“Thanks,” Cheng Yan nodded with a smile at the energetic young man, then looked at Chu Guang, who had already started eating, and asked tentatively, “Are you really not going to do something about it?”

Do something…

That word again.

Chu Guang couldn’t be bothered to answer the question. He tossed a garlic clove into the soup and ended the topic with one sentence.

“It would create an ecological vacuum.”

Hearing this, Cheng Yan didn’t press further and smoothly changed the subject.

“What about the prisoners of war? Both Tianshu and the Mammoth Kingdom have requested that we hand over Gulian to them. Even though they have conflicts… nominally, they are both our allies.”

“Gulian?” Chu Guang frowned. “Isn’t that guy in West Sailing Port?”

Cheng Yan gave a wry smile.

“He was there at first, but for some reason—maybe Zayid offended the Emperor of the Eastern Empire or something else—the Eastern Empire stuffed Gulian into Golden Gallon Port… leaving only Akbar for them.”

That sly fox…

Chu Guang chuckled and shook his head, seeing through Saren’s little trick at once.

This guy was trying to use a borrowed knife to kill again, and this time he wanted to use the Union’s hand to knock some sense into his puppet.

Abusak had already been dismissed by the committee. Although Tianshu was still nominally an ally of the Union, it had grown estranged from Dawn City in spirit.

Anyone could see that the Family Council was a puppet of the Eastern Empire—even the Family Council itself saw itself that way.

But Zayid was not an honest man. He wanted the benefits from the Eastern Empire while also trying to keep his hand in the Union’s pocket.

The best evidence was that the Tianshu Federation was practically a corpse, yet he still kept it stitched to the committee’s chair.

Saren knew that Chu Guang could see through this, and that he would never abandon the Mammoth Kingdom’s ally by handing Gulian over to Tianshu. So he readily handed over the knife.

If Chu Guang actually passed that knife—Gulian—to the Mammoth Kingdom, it would serve the purpose of disciplining the Bharata Kingdom. No matter how thick-skinned Zayid was, he would realize he couldn’t have it both ways.

As for Chu Guang killing Gulian, it wouldn’t be much of a loss for the Eastern Empire either.

Saren was a Vellant, but more than that, he was a political animal. At most, he would care about his own reputation out of face-saving, but he wouldn’t go so far as to never abandon a single compatriot, like those “Vell-leftists.”

Chu Guang already had an answer in his mind, but he still tossed the question to Cheng Yan.

“You’re the Union’s Foreign Minister. What’s your opinion? There’s only one Gulian. Who should we give him to?”

Cheng Yan said in a very soft voice,

“I’ve heard that among the 800,000 troops under ‘Iron General’ Grove of the Bharata Kingdom, there are many old subordinates of the Southern Legion, and a large amount of Southern Legion weaponry—some taken over from the Eastern Empire, some captured during Operation North Wind.”

Chu Guang: “So?”

Cheng Yan’s pupils flickered.

“Right now, Grove is facing off against the Mammoth Kingdom in the north. If we hand Gulian over to Tianshu, the Mammoth Kingdom might be in danger.”

The one who could stop Gulian—Rasi—was already dead.

The current leader of the Mammoth Kingdom was Rasi’s charge commander, Sawa. Though capable and experienced in battle, he was an internal affairs man at heart, not a military strategist.

Grove had taken advantage in the southern theater, but from Operation North Wind, it was clear he had real skill—otherwise, he wouldn’t have been printed on the Southern Legion’s playing cards.

“You mean we should kill Gulian?” Chu Guang didn’t want to hear him beat around the bush, so he asked casually.

Gulian’s role was roughly equivalent to Griffin—just a theater commander. Whether he deserved to die was the Bharata people’s own business. The Union’s primary targets for liquidation were all in Avintown, and at least they had to be ten-thousand-man commanders of four stars or above.

For example, the Minister of General Affairs, etc.

As for a three-star ten-thousand-man commander, the Bharata people could decide for themselves whether to sentence him to death or life imprisonment. He didn’t really want to get involved.

“I don’t mean that. Quite the opposite,” Cheng Yan quickly shook his head. “The court in Golden Gallon Port would undoubtedly sentence him to death, but killing a commander with no troops means nothing to us.”

He paused, lowered his voice, and spoke quickly, so only the two of them could hear.

“I suggest you hold his trial in Mammoth City… After all, legally speaking, the survivors of Mammoth City also participated in the war against the Southern Legion, and they were the main force on the battlefield. They have the right to judge Gulian, and they have more authority to do so than Tianshu does today.”

Looking at Cheng Yan’s bright eyes, Chu Guang’s expressionless face suddenly broke into a smile.

“Not bad. You don’t have to beat around the bush with me so much. Just say what you think directly.”

Cheng Yan smiled sheepishly.

“I wasn’t beating around the bush… I just wanted to explain my reasoning clearly. After all, you must have seen that this Gulian is actually a knife Saren handed us. If you really can’t bear to let go of the relationship with Tianshu, you could have him executed in Golden Gallon Port—that would also work.”

He paused and added,

“Of course, I have to remind you: false friendship brings no real benefits. None of Zayid’s sweet words will ever come true. He’ll only try every way to fleece us.”

“A little swindler wants to fleece me? He’s still green,” Chu Guang chuckled, pushing the empty bowl aside. “Your idea is good. Since you already have a plan, go ahead and do it.”

Cheng Yan smiled knowingly.

“Understood.”

The affairs of the Bharata Province were just one part of the post-war order. Chu Guang wasn’t particularly eager to get personally involved in this game.

What interested him more was the “Abu Aerospace” that Abusak—whom he had met briefly at the human conference—had recently set up in Chip City.

That guy was already retired, yet he couldn’t sit still and had come out for a second start-up.

If he really succeeded, it might change the Union’s conservatives’ view of the Bharata people.

Of course, what he hoped even more was that it would have a positive influence on the Bharata people within the Union, teaching them self-respect, self-love, and self-reliance.

Since they had left the Bharata Province, they should stop running around looking for fathers and throwing tantrums.

On the other hand, what concerned Chu Guang even more were the Celestials.

If he didn’t break the sword hanging at the Lagrange point, he wouldn’t be able to sleep soundly.

Especially now that the legion has disbanded.

The burden that once belonged to Julius must now be shouldered by him alone.