Chapter 1037: Piercing the Membrane of the Universe

Chapter 1037: Piercing the Membrane of the Universe

Along the shores of Linghu Wetland Park stood the Seventh Research Institute of Dawn City, affiliated with the Expedition Corps.

This was a specialized research unit established by the Expedition Corps for the study of "Proxima Centauri and the Pioneer Civilization," officially put into operation only at the beginning of the month, with a staff of 227 people.

By the standards of the wasteland, this number was more than sufficient, especially for a newly established research institute with few projects.

Not only was the staff ample and the budget generous, but the senior researchers at the institute were also top-tier talents within the Alliance's scientific research system.

For instance, the director, Dai Huai'an, aged 35, hailed from Vault 276. His research focus was high-energy physics, and he had served as a professor at Camp 101 for a time.

Later, recommended by Dr. Fangfa, he joined the Alliance's Expedition Corps and held key positions in related research institutions. Both his abilities and his résumé could be described as outstanding.

Another example was the physicist Arick from Vault 337, and Lin Dong, a former F-level prospector from the Wandering Swamp Science Committee.

Though their résumés were slightly less impressive than Director Dai's, their knowledge and skills were no less formidable, and in certain specialized research directions, they even surpassed him, making them true experts in their fields.

Across the entire wasteland, only the Alliance and the Academy showed genuine interest in high-energy physics—a "future discipline" with little short-term economic benefit.

If one added the willingness to spend money and the conditions to do so, it seemed only the Alliance remained.

Coupled with the Alliance's reputation abroad, it hardly needed to actively recruit; these talents, who found no use elsewhere, came knocking on their own, ready to dive into their work.

After all, the wasteland era was about to end—when else would they rise to the occasion if not now?

Drawing on his background in high-energy physics, Director Dai quickly set the institute's overarching research direction: studying the membrane separating one universe from another.

In truth, he didn't even need to set this direction. The clues left behind by the Pioneer Civilization had already paved the way, clearly telling them that a Creator existed and that the universe was a series of nested layers.

Like a set of nesting dolls.

Though this was the "mystical" civilization's understanding of the universe, that mystical civilization was far ahead of human civilization, just as human civilization far surpassed the Domans.

As long as they continued to follow the clues left by the Pioneer Civilization, they would surely, like the Domans comprehending the Insov Tree, grasp a truth of their own—a truth for humanity!

And a truth for materialists!

Director Dai was fully confident in this.

Just then, Ye Shi, returning from Proxima Centauri, brought a great gift to the Expedition Corps' "Seventh Institute"—the "Cosmic Membrane Perforator"!

This relic was a creation of Dr. Qiu Yoshi, inspired by the Pioneer Civilization!

One could even say the latter had guided the former step by step!

Its effect, upon inputting a certain amount of energy, was to transport matter from this universe to the Creator's universe.

Though its principles were far too profound for current human civilization—both the visible and invisible parts as inscrutable as celestial mysteries—this didn't stop those who obtained it from using it directly.

Like a black box!

Later, Ye Shi, a soldier of the Burning Legion, through his mastery of spiritual energy, drew inspiration from Dr. Qiu Yoshi and learned to reverse the use of the perforator, borrowing energy from the Creator's universe.

Though the word "borrow" was used, the borrowed energy didn't need to be returned.

According to clues left by the Pioneer Civilization, a single beam of light from the Creator's universe, when placed in the "created universe," was enough to rival the energy of a star.

In other words, what they borrowed from the Creator's universe was as insignificant as a speck of dust, almost negligible.

Surely the "Creator" wouldn't mind.

Thus, after a few cautious attempts, the Seventh Research Institute, finding no safety hazards, immediately ramped up the frequency of experiments, working overtime.

It wasn't that Director Dai and the researchers were too impatient; it was that the prospects of this technology were simply too enticing!

Even researchers from Vault backgrounds, who weren't particularly interested in money, could immediately see the economic value.

Once they unraveled its mysteries, they would truly master infinite energy, even transforming how energy was obtained!

They would no longer rely on the light and heat of this universe but could draw a ceaseless stream of energy from a higher universe!

The heat death of the universe would be reversed at this moment!

For humanity, which had spent eons pursuing more matter and energy, could anything be more tempting?

Without exaggeration, they would usher in a brand-new era atop the New Era!

An era more prosperous than the Age of Prosperity!

It would be the ascension of all human civilization!

Any material reward or worldly honor paled in comparison to this great undertaking.

Moreover, the route to Proxima Centauri had yet to open, and plans for an observation station in synchronous orbit around Gaia were still in draft form. The entire institute had only the "Perforator" project to study.

After several controlled attempts, the researchers at the Seventh Institute had evolved from the initial "borrowing light by chiseling a hole" to sending various things to the Creator's universe.

First, they sent a rat; then they tried a multi-legged beast, a mutated bear, a slime mold fruiting body, and even a deathclaw cub.

They had planned to send a mammoth, but the Dawn City Zoo refused, and they hadn't figured out how to get it into the underground lab, so they gave up.

Based on a series of tests, the researchers at the Seventh Institute drew preliminary conclusions.

The capture range of the transmission beam varied from 5 to 10 meters, seemingly positively correlated with the input energy and the activation time of the perforator.

In other words, the more energy input, the longer the hole in the cosmic membrane lasted, and the wider the range of interference.

A reasonable analysis suggested that with sufficient energy, the transmission beam could even swallow an entire planet!

But achieving that would require an astronomical amount of energy—possibly on a stellar scale!

And that was secondary; compressing that terrifying energy into the size of a standard fuel canister was another problem.

Without modifying the relic, maintaining an activation time of three seconds and a capture radius of ten meters was the limit.

Additionally, matter sent to the Creator's universe would vanish permanently.

According to the Pioneer Civilization's description, it would become a beam of light or a speck of dust in another universe, unable to return from that world, or if it did, it couldn't retain its original form.

However, this point had yet to be proven experimentally, so the researchers reserved judgment.

Furthermore, only living things—or corpses dead within 72 hours—could be transmitted.

Inanimate objects, including electronic devices, couldn't be transmitted alone but could accompany a transmitted being as accessories.

The definition of "accessory" seemed related to the transmitted being's self-awareness.

Researchers tried putting a watch on a slime mold fruiting body; after activating the perforator, the slime mold vanished, but the watch fell to the ground.

They immediately conducted a control experiment, putting the same watch on a monkey and ensuring the monkey understood the concept of a watch. The result was astonishing: the monkey and the watch crossed together into the Creator's universe!

With this discovery, Director Dai quickly devised a new experiment: wrapping a detector in anti-corrosion film, stuffing it into a piece of meat, and feeding it to a toothless monitor lizard captured from the Baiyue Province.

This toothless monitor lizard, a variant of the Komodo dragon, averaged four meters in length and weighed nearly 300 kilograms as an adult. It swallowed its food whole, relying on digestive juices to break it down.

Once the lizard digested the meat around the detector, it would naturally spit out or excrete the indigestible detector.

The latter would continuously emit electromagnetic signals containing observational data until its battery died.

If, in the next experiment, they could receive signals from the other universe through the "hole" created by the perforator, it would mean the toothless monitor lizard they sent hadn't turned into light in another universe but still existed there.

Not only that, they might even analyze the returned electromagnetic signals to gather more intelligence about the Creator's universe!

Without hesitation, Director Dai reported the experiment plan to the Expedition Corps per protocol and immediately set to work.

In the isolation room on the third underground floor of the institute, where the Cosmic Membrane Perforator was stored, staff in protective suits led a cage containing the monitor lizard to the perforator, then quickly withdrew from the room.

As if sensing the threat, the toothless monitor lizard hissed, its tongue flicking, and writhed its massive body restlessly in the narrow cage, banging it against the bars with a clang.

After confirming that the staff had withdrawn from the site, the researchers standing behind the glass wall immediately remotely activated the teleoperated robot inside the isolation chamber, which stepped forward and pressed the switch to activate the perforator.

As the perforator started, a dazzling light instantly burst from its center, completely enveloping the giant lizard caged within.

Not a single sound was made.

When the unbearable radiance faded, the lizard that had been writhing in its cage was gone, leaving only the chains that had bound its limbs, forlornly resting in place.

Watching the strange phenomenon behind the glass wall, Arak, standing beside Dai Huai’an, spoke with an moved expression.

“No matter how many times I see this, I can’t help but say it again… it’s utterly incredible.”

As a physicist who had been in cryogenic sleep in Shelter 337, he had been engaged in physics research since the end of the Prosperity Era, focusing on the most cutting-edge directions in the field, and had witnessed no small number of astonishing things.

Yet even so, the scene before him truly stunned his eyes—

A three-hundred-kilogram lizard had vanished right before them all.

And left not a trace behind.

“…After all, it’s the technology of the ‘Pioneers.’ If they didn’t have some tricks up their sleeves, how could they rule over hundreds or thousands of galaxies?”

Staring at the cage behind the glass wall, Lin Dong’s face was filled with obsession as he murmured to himself.

Yes—

This was the scientific exploration he yearned for!

What they faced now was true mystery, truths never before discovered by human civilization!

Compared to this, the ruins he had explored and the black boxes he had unearthed in the past were utterly pathetic!

Seeing Lin Dong so entranced, Arak made a helpless expression and turned his gaze to the other side of the glass wall.

“Whether that Pioneer civilization actually ruled hundreds or thousands of galaxies is debatable… but this technology, far beyond what our current civilization can comprehend, truly feels no different from magic to us.”

He felt like a “Domar” at that moment.

Though he had never actually seen a Domar, only read about them in internal expedition reports.

The researchers in the control room exchanged whispers, while Director Dai watched the clock, waiting for the toothless giant lizard to finish digesting the meat in its stomach.

Though the time flow rates of the two universes might not be the same, that was not what this experiment aimed to explore.

What they needed to verify was whether the matter transmitted to the Creator Universe still retained its structural integrity.

If no signal was received, they would then hypothesize whether the experiment failed due to differences in time flow between the two universes, causing the detector’s signal to be lost, and then proceed with control experiments to test that conjecture.

As he waited quietly, the sliding door at the back of the control room suddenly opened to both sides, and a young man in a white lab coat walked in from outside.

“How is the experiment going?”

Seeing Yin Fang’s unexpected visit, Director Dai’s face immediately showed surprise, clearly not expecting that this major figure would take such an interest in the experiment, even coming to the site in person.

But the surprise lingered on his face only a moment before turning into delight and pride.

Dai Huai’an smiled and promptly reported.

“We’ve just completed the first set of experiments! Everything went very smoothly—the detector was successfully carried to the other universe by the toothless giant lizard… Next, we’ll proceed with the second set to confirm whether the detector is functioning properly.”

“It seems I’ve arrived just in time,” Yin Fang said with a nod and a smile, speaking in an approving tone. “I have a strong feeling that everyone here today will witness history.”

This affirmation from the Alliance’s chief scientist inspired everyone present.

Not only Director Dai, but nearly every researcher’s face lit up with excitement and joy.

Without interfering in the Seventh Institute’s experiments, Yin Fang simply sat at the edge of the control room as an observer, quietly watching from the sidelines.

In a sense, his work style had been somewhat influenced by Chu Guang—he avoided meddling in his subordinates’ work whenever possible, leaving professional matters to the professionals, unless they were slacking off.

Anyone deeply focused on a task detests others interfering and giving orders.

That’s human nature.

Though he was the chief scientist, he was not necessarily more expert than those present in the study of Pioneer civilization; giving reckless commands might lead the entire project astray. It was better to quietly act as a mascot, watching from the side, and offer valuable opinions when appropriate.

In truth, if not for his curiosity about the Pioneer relics and the “universe beyond the universe,” he might not have come to observe in person—he could have just read the report on his tablet.

The time for the second set of experiments soon arrived.

Perhaps intending to impress the esteemed chief scientist, the researchers on site were fully alert, from the director down to the operators, all completely absorbed in the experiment.

First, they placed a signal receiver inside the isolation chamber, then adjusted the perforator’s parameters from “input mode” to “output mode,” and inserted a brand-new empty fuel canister into the reactor.

As for the previous fuel canister, it could no longer be used because of the hole that had been punched through it.

This was one of the small details of using the perforator.

Each forward penetration through the membrane of the universe left a cylindrical hole in the reactor’s fuel canister, like a movie ticket clipped at the corner, rendering it unusable again.

But if the penetration was in reverse—that is, “borrowing light” from the Creator Universe—there would be no such effect.

After all preparations were complete, the staff in the isolation chamber withdrew methodically, and then the researchers in the control room activated the teleoperated robot pre-deployed inside the chamber, which methodically started the perforator.

Immediately, the sun-like radiance once again filled the entire isolation chamber, spilling out from the reactor with terrifying energy.

However—

This experiment seemed different from the previous ones. What overflowed from the reactor appeared to be not just energy, but something else mixed in.

Yin Fang frowned slightly.

At the same moment, the researcher standing at the terminal let out an exclamation of surprise.

“Detected gamma rays!”

Everyone’s faces lit up with surprise, while Yin Fang was momentarily stunned.

Gamma rays?

Could it be—

This time, it wasn’t just energy being produced?

As Yin Fang was pondering, the dazzling light had already faded.

Director Dai, standing nearby, clearly had the same thought. After confirming that all indicators were normal, he immediately ordered staff in protective suits to enter the isolation chamber and inspect the signal receiver installed next to the perforator.

The result of the experiment surprised everyone.

They did not receive the video transmitted by the detector, but instead received a peculiar signal.

Seeing the group gathered around the terminal with grave expressions, Yin Fang also stood up and approached.

“What’s on the signal receiver?”

Hearing Yin Fang’s question, Director Dai hesitated for a moment before speaking.

“We’re analyzing the signal. The interpretation seems… to be a string of binary numbers.”

As he spoke, a parsed binary string appeared on the terminal screen, filling it entirely.

The operators quickly performed further analysis on the numbers, and with the assistance of a research-purpose AI, converted them into decimal numbers, soon identifying a repeatedly recurring segment.

“7444154…”

A researcher named Lin Dong read the numbers on the screen softly, then suddenly realized something and gasped.

“Ah… come to think of it, our perforator has exactly seven knobs!”

Aware of this as well, Arak frowned and spoke with a grave expression.

"This string of numbers looks like a key, and one tailor-made for us."

"What would happen if we entered this string into the dial of the perforator?" the researcher standing nearby suddenly wondered.

Another researcher shook his head and said.

"Don't know. No one knows."

The information contained in that string of numbers was too sparse; they couldn't even discern the other party's intentions.

"Should we try inputting this set of numbers into the dial?" The researcher by the terminal turned and cast his gaze toward Director Dai.

Director Dai instinctively looked at Yin Fang, and seeing that the latter offered no opinion, he turned to Arak and asked.

"Is the risk controllable?"

Arak shook his head.

"Too little information... but theoretically, it should be controllable."

Director Dai frowned.

"Theoretically?"

"After all, we're using less than a kilogram of helium-3 fuel," Arak shrugged. "It's not like a few hundred grams of helium-3 could summon a spaceship."

The maximum projection radius of 10 meters clearly wasn't enough for something of that scale to pop out.

And besides, it was just a tiny hole, too small to be observed with the naked eye.

Whatever finally emerged would most likely be on the same level as the energy they input.

"..."

At last, the moment came to make the final decision. A pair of eyes turned in unison toward the person in the room who had the best judgment.

Looking at Yin Fang, Director Dai of the Seventh Institute asked nervously.

"What do you think... should we add another set of experiments?"

No one knew what lay before them now. This was a true blind box.

Hidden inside that blind box might be opportunity, might be danger, or might be nothing at all.

But one thing was certain.

If they didn't take this step, they would never discover a new world.

Should they maintain reverence for the cosmos and retreat cautiously?

Or should they bravely advance?

No one could know the outcome of an experiment before it was conducted.

Looking at those eyes, both tense and expectant, Yin Fang knew he could no longer remain silent.

Fine.

These people were looking for someone to take the blame.

"Your eyes tell me you've already made up your minds..."

He paused, scanned everyone present, and continued in a serious tone.

"Since that's the case, let's give it a try."

As he had expected, when they heard his decision, everyone's faces lit up with excitement.

With someone willing to bear the risk and responsibility, and capable of doing so, the whole thing suddenly became easier.

At least in feeling.

For a moment, Yin Fang suddenly understood how Chu Guang felt.

That guy didn't seem to be doing nothing, as it appeared.

And perhaps, what he was doing was the hardest and most thankless task of all...

The third experiment quickly entered the preparation phase.

To be safe, Yin Fang requested a temporary upgrade of the Seventh Institute's security level from the Praetorian Guard, and an additional platoon of troops was stationed in the lab.

The entire platoon consisted of thirty people. Apart from three officers, the remaining twenty-seven reinforcements were all Awakened from Vault 404.

With all preparations complete, under Director Dai's authorization, the lab staff adjusted the perforator's parameters according to the password obtained from the Creator's universe, then followed the previous procedure to evacuate the isolation chamber and remotely activate the window via a robot.

It was worth noting that if random parameters were entered, the perforator could not be activated.

This had been verified in previous experiments.

Thus, the researchers at the Seventh Institute were mentally prepared for the possibility that nothing might happen.

Fortunately, the most disappointing scenario did not occur.

The moment the button to activate the perforator was pressed, a dazzling white light once again illuminated the isolation chamber.

Watching the numbers jump on the screen, the researcher at the terminal shouted with excitement.

"Gamma radiation is rising! This time... the measured value is stronger than before!"

Yin Fang stared intently at the transparent glass wall in front of him. Amid his astonishment, a faint sense of foreboding began to creep in.

Something...

Seemed to be coming out from there.

But even if he wanted to stop the experiment now, it was too late.

In an instant, the lights in the control room flickered, then went dark with a hum.

"What's going on?!"

"A power outage?! Why now of all times—"

"Wait, do you hear something?!"

As everyone panicked, unsure of what was happening, a hissing sound, like a breath, came from the pitch-black darkness—a low growl as if from the abyss.

Hearing that sound through the glass wall, Yin Fang felt every hair on his body stand on end, a chilling dread or sense of déjà vu washing over him.

It was something that happened before he joined the Alliance.

Back then, he was a squad leader in one of the Academy's exploration teams, tasked with scavenging and rummaging through ruins for the Academy.

But no matter how thoroughly he prepared for every mission, he still met with disaster on one assignment, leaving him as the sole survivor of his entire squad.

That operation could only be described as a catastrophe.

And his superior, to protect his own career, unhesitatingly pinned all the blame on him, forcing him to flee the Academy and escape from the Swamp of Wandering.

That incident had haunted him for almost his entire life...

And at this moment, the nightmare buried deepest in his heart resurfaced once more.

But this time was different.

He was no longer an insignificant nobody, but stood on a completely different footing from before.

Without a single moment's hesitation, Yin Fang made an instant decision and bellowed at the researchers present.

"Retreat!"