Chapter 1054: Gestalt Lifeform

Chapter 1054: The Complete Lifeform

The empty room was silent, save for the faint white noise of electronic components humming.

The chair with its back to the door remained motionless, like a silent spectator of a play.

Chu Guang wondered if the professor’s old friend, the “Observer,” was also watching from somewhere nearby.

But even if it were, he supposed it probably couldn’t jump out and say anything.

After all, it had said their next meeting would be tens of millennia away.

If he could live that long.

The professor standing in the screen seemed lost in distant memories. He stood quietly, thinking for a long time, before speaking in a measured, narrative tone.

“That was a very, very long time ago—over three hundred years from today.”

“I can’t recall whether it was the first or second time I met it, but it was indeed the first time it spoke to me with such candor.”

“By then, I had already grasped the secrets of the four fundamental forces and had begun using gravity as a medium to touch the boundaries of dimensions… Just as the Observer had hoped, after we mastered power rivaling that of stars, we also obtained the key to the starry sky.”

Chu Guang’s face showed surprise.

“Hyperspace engines? You invented them?”

The professor shook his head.

“No, I wasn’t very interested in practical applications; those were mostly done by my students. But my research on neutrinos, quark-gluon plasma, and gravitons did, I suppose, lay the theoretical foundation for hyperspace engines. Including deflector shields and the anti-gravity you’re familiar with—they’re all extended applications of hyperspace theory…”

Not interested, huh…

Feeling a wave of unintentional arrogance wash over him, Chu Guang couldn’t help but touch his nose.

Though he knew the other party wasn’t deliberately showing off, he found himself still impressed.

Maybe that was just the nature of expertise.

Compared to showing off, he was better at being a bit sly.

When he got to this point, the professor suddenly seemed to think of something and paused.

“I won’t bore you with those complicated things. If you’re interested, you can look them up yourself. There’s a popular science book on the shelves in the B4 library called *Past, Present, Future* that explains the principles of hyperspace and FTL drives in simple language—it’s more friendly for amateurs.”

Chu Guang nodded.

“I read it quite a while ago… Did you write it?”

He didn’t remember the author, only that the book’s mention of “gravitational bonds” had opened his eyes to how FTL travel worked in the Union era.

The professor chuckled.

“No, that was written by my student.”

Good grief.

Another flex!

Chu Guang cleared his throat.

“…Are we getting off track?”

“Sorry, I digressed a bit.”

The professor smiled apologetically, then resumed his earlier tone.

“Anyway… In the Nth year after the Union was established, we obtained the key to the sea of stars and completed humanity’s first ascension. From that day on, our borders were no longer just Earth; they expanded to other planets beyond the Earth-Moon system.”

“And just when the Union needed me most, the Observer found me and prophesied the future crisis and all about the ‘Calamity.’ In the end, it asked me to go to Mars to dig a grave—a much smaller grave than the ruins at Alpha Centauri… But due to some matters, I never went.”

Chu Guang: “What matters?”

The professor was silent for a moment, as if reluctant to discuss it, but then seemed to think it was in the past and finally spoke.

“A personal matter… My wife fell gravely ill—incurable at the time, even though we had already mastered power rivaling stars. And those in positions similar to yours didn’t want me to take the risk; they urged me for quite a while… In the end, I chose to stay in the era I belonged to.”

“That’s understandable—it’s only human.” Chu Guang nodded, a hint of admiration in his eyes.

He wasn’t a heartless person.

On the contrary, he valued emotions and was willing to befriend those who did too.

People with such weaknesses weren’t necessarily all good, but they usually had boundaries, cared about appearances, had scruples, and wouldn’t do things that would damn their own offspring.

Incidentally, that was also one reason he was still single.

Even though he had never done anything to damn his offspring.

“Right? You think it’s only human too… But it wasn’t that simple.”

The voice drifting through the screen was filled with complex emotions—hard to tell if it was about letting something go or taking on a responsibility that wasn’t his.

“…From what I later learned, that thing had concealed crucial details. That grave did contain some ‘good stuff,’ but we were nowhere near capable of fully excavating those ruins at the time. Once inside, there was no coming out—no matter who went! No wonder it specifically asked me to go; it was a trap. That thing wanted to kill me!”

Chu Guang was stunned for a few seconds, his face full of shock.

“The Observer… wanted to kill you? Why?”

The man in the screen was silent for a long time before speaking.

“I don’t know. Maybe it didn’t necessarily want to kill me—it might have just wanted me to disappear for a while. According to it, my progress had exceeded its expectations. A global cross-regional organization—the Union—had been born ahead of schedule, two centuries earlier than it had anticipated.”

“Not only that, but the timing of the first fusion reactor’s completion, the construction of the space elevator, and so on—all were built on the foundation of shared prosperity for all humanity.”

“Though I thought it was no big deal—trivial in the face of time, and not solely my achievement—it believed we in this universe had moved too fast, that beneath the prosperous vision lurked undercurrents.”

“In its view, the explosive progress of science and technology had made us skip the problems we should have faced, and also skip the practical tools we should have gained from solving them. Once our pace slowed in the future, those skipped problems would erupt all at once. Then, even a small risk could undo all our efforts—and that risk was almost inevitable in the future.”

Chu Guang rubbed his brow and thought for a moment, trying to clarify the conflict between the two sides.

Simply put, the Observer wanted to provide appropriate intervention, but the result of that intervention exceeded its own expectations.

So it planned to remove the interfering factor.

No—

That wasn’t quite accurate either.

More precisely, it gave the professor two choices.

Either go to Mars, accept its “macro-regulation,” and develop toward becoming a boundary-breaker.

Or abandon the system and stay on his original timeline, with the price being that it would remove the excessive intervention, or rather, withdraw the “help from the void.”

According to the professor, by then he no longer really needed the system the Observer had given him.

If there were no higher pursuits, there was indeed no need to follow the Observer’s orders just to keep the system.

“…And then?” Chu Guang continued.

The professor in the screen spoke slowly.

“After that, nothing much really. It said it would go find someone else in the future, and then it disappeared with the system it had given me, as if it had never been there. But it didn’t really matter—as I said before, by then I didn’t need its help much anymore… But it seemed quite disappointed. Many years later, it came back to me. It didn’t say why it returned, but I could guess—maybe because it found that the future no longer existed.”

Chu Guang: “By ‘no longer existed,’ do you mean… no more boundary-breakers?”

The professor shook his head.

“It means everything… According to it, if I continued on my timeline, our civilization would overdraw and lose all future. Or to put it another way, countless universes where I existed would be annihilated, and until the final heat death of the universe, no other ‘boundary-breaker’ would be born.”

Chu Guang’s Adam’s apple moved. He was silent for a long moment, then let out a soft sigh.

“That sounds way too exaggerated.”

The professor gave a faint smile.

“It is quite exaggerated, but it has its logic. According to its soap bubble theory, the two temporal states of past and future exist simultaneously in the void, and so do the multiverse and parallel worlds. Any decision I make on my own timeline will alter the future outcomes, and those alterations were already possibilities at the very beginning of the universe’s explosion.”

As he spoke, a hint of loneliness crept into the professor’s voice.

Chu Guang wasn’t sure if regret was mixed in there, but helplessness and frustration certainly were.

“It showed me another future—a different possibility in a parallel world, the future after I went to Mars… There I saw my descendants, and the descendants of many people I knew. They were all living well. Though it couldn’t compare to the Age of Prosperity, it wasn’t far behind either.”

“At the end of that future, I ultimately left my home planet, but our civilization’s prospects were bright. There were some twists and turns along the way, but nothing like the desolation of the Wasteland Era… And in the end, we stepped into the sea of stars with a brand-new posture.”

Staring at the blurry face, Chu Guang pondered for a long while before asking.

“Do you regret it?”

“No, just a little regretful,” the professor shook his head and said slowly. “By then, I was already starting to doubt its fickleness. It said it wouldn’t come looking for me again, but then it suddenly came back with this so-called other future.”

“Of course I refused it. It left disappointed… But thinking back, that might have been the last chance to steer history back onto the right track.”

“Perhaps dying at the right time would have been the best ending—”

“I can’t agree with that.”

Chu Guang shook his head without hesitation.

“History can’t always march forward exactly as we envision. You can’t represent what’s right, and neither can I. And those eyes floating in the void certainly can’t either.”

“Besides, if it truly could represent what’s right, the person standing here now wouldn’t be me—it would be someone else from its prophecy.”

Chu Guang could somewhat understand the deep self-blame inside the professor.

Just as he himself had said, no one would blame the Wasteland Era on the ‘Father of the Age of Prosperity,’ just as no one would blame the An Lushan Rebellion on Li Shimin, or World War II on Watt, the inventor of the steam engine.

Each generation has its own affairs, and even the same person plays different roles at different stages of life.

Later generations might at most blame themselves for failing to live up to the professor’s expectations, for not continuing the Age of Prosperity he had founded.

But clearly, the Observer had not only revealed another future to him but also spoiled the Wasteland Era and the tens of millennia that followed, letting him know cause and effect he could never have known otherwise—

Including that the Wasteland Era was already a foregone conclusion.

Including that no matter how many shelters you built, you couldn’t save everyone, nor change the outcome of human civilization turning to dust.

And all of this was because of him…

Though no one would ever hold him accountable for it, he still couldn’t forgive himself.

In fact, his entire later life was spent preparing for the disasters foretold by the Observer.

Including the construction of shelters.

Including the black box of the Ark Project.

And even the founding of the ‘Academy,’ among other things.

All these plans, laid down as early as the middle of the Age of Prosperity, bore the shadow of that professor…

Only someone with an immense sense of responsibility could bear such utterly unrelated burdens.

It’s worth noting that because ‘the wolf really came’—and came precisely when everyone believed the infinitely prosperous utopia would last forever—many old-timers on the wasteland worshipped the professor like a god.

Among them was the Chief of the Great Rift, that old riddle-talking mystic.

And also Dr. Conclusion behind the Academy, the one said to have transformed into a digital lifeform.

They knew nothing of the void or the Observer.

From their perspective—and that of all wastelanders—this was by no means locking the stable door after the horse has bolted, but undeniably far-sighted.

Chu Guang only knew these things by pure accident.

But his view remained the same as before; knowing this didn’t change anything.

If humanity had refused to move forward out of fear of a downward spiral, they’d probably still be living in trees.

Besides, they had already proven with their actions that their fate was in their own hands, not manipulated by some ethereal void.

“You said earlier you didn’t know what choice I’d make. I can tell you now—I might not make the same choice as you, but I will make the choice I believe is right.”

The professor on the screen was silent for a moment, then suddenly let out a carefree laugh.

“I want to say ‘as expected of you,’ but that feels a bit strange. Though we are different, we actually made the same choice… What I chose back then was what I genuinely believed was right.”

He had indeed been curious about the void and eager to understand the origin of the universe. But if the price was giving up his identity as a human to become a pawn of the Observer—the so-called ‘Boundary Breaker’—that was another matter.

To stop the heat death of the universe.

That sounded grand, but what did it have to do with him as a human?

Before that endless endeavor, even the entire galaxy was but a mayfly.

Perhaps another version of him in another universe made a different choice and changed or prevented something in the distant future.

But at least in this universe, he chose to live as a human.

Together with the ones he loved.

Looking at the professor on the screen, Chu Guang nodded slightly. He felt the man’s words carried hidden meaning, as if he had known Chu Guang for a long time.

But that wasn’t really surprising.

Since he had crossed the membrane of the universe and projected his mind into another, younger universe, he must have observed and selected carefully before finally choosing Chu Guang.

“You’ve already obtained what was in that ruin?”

A reasonable guess—it should be something used to construct a morphogenetic field.

As expected, the professor on the screen nodded, a look of approval on his face.

“Yes. After that, I tried to do some remedial work, including recovering the ruins on Mars… I think you’ve probably guessed the essence of the morphogenetic field.”

Chu Guang nodded as well.

“The resonance of thoughts can penetrate the membrane of the universe, transmitting information that both sides agree on. My conclusion is that you must have found your past self—most likely the self who had just obtained the system.”

“Clever,” the blurry figure snapped his fingers, the approval in his faint gaze growing more evident. “Your insight is no less than mine… The only pity is that you’re not cut out for scientific research.”

“I’m not interested either. I’m only responsible for setting the rules of the game,” Chu Guang said with an indifferent expression, then continued, “So what did you get from the ruin?”

“Three vials of serum—one for enhanced physical strength, one for near-infinite lifespan, and one for psychic power. Used properly, it could even change the entire genetic makeup of humanity. But used poorly, it could become a curse—like letting those who shouldn’t live too long live forever, or letting infants with immature minds hear too much noise from the void.”

Just as Chu Guang was listening intently, the professor on the screen suddenly changed the subject and smiled.

“Actually, none of that matters to you. I already used that stuff back in the early Age of Prosperity.”

Chu Guang was stunned.

“…All of it?”

The professor smiled.

“You could say that. In theory, you could only choose one of the three serums to use; mixing them might cause genetic contamination. But I thought of a clever trick—I had the experimental monkeys drink the serums, then crossbred the three different types of subjects to take the best from each… including having them mate with other female monkeys, and using controlled variables to hybridize their offspring.”

So this guy didn’t choose to drink it himself?

A flicker of surprise crossed Chu Guang's face.

He had thought himself already audacious enough, never expecting to find someone even less reverent here—someone who truly held the void in no regard.

Unfazed by the astonishment on Chu Guang's face, the professor continued.

"The experimental results were quite astonishing, and they also confirmed my hypothesis. That agent is likely a projection of higher-dimensional matter onto a three-dimensional plane, or perhaps a technology employing some higher dimension we don't yet understand. Thus, the arrangement of DNA molecules yielded extremely complex combinations, like conflicting codes. If all these genomes appeared in a single person, that person's body would undoubtedly 'throw an error'—and that is what we call genetic contamination."

"So I settled for the next best option: in repeated experiments, I intercepted non-conflicting DNA fragments, rearranged them using existing technology, and gradually transplanted them into experimental clones. The genotypes formed through rearrangement might have weaker expression, but they are stable, and indeed, genetic contamination no longer occurred."

"And that's not all. My research team made a startling discovery: as the body and genome adapted to each other, those 'annotated-out codes' gradually began to express correctly in a more stable form!"

Chu Guang swallowed hard.

"Even after death and rebirth?"

"Exactly—at least for clones holding only partial fragments. As long as you record the life evolution process they've undergone through a cultivation pod or scanning device."

The professor nodded gently and continued.

"The re-expression process of the genome can be completed inside the cultivation pod, after all, the life stage of a clone can be artificially defined... By now, you should have realized what the genetic sequences of your 'players' actually are."

"I roughly understand. That is to say... through your analysis of the three vials of agent, you obtained a vast gene library, and the players' genetic codes are the result of combining different 'fragments' from different gene libraries with conventional gene arrangements. They are responsible for exploring stable expression methods for each 'fragment.'"

Chu Guang tried to simplify the complex problem to understand it.

Looking at the approving nod of the professor, he paused for a moment and continued.

"But there's still one thing I don't understand. What is my own genetic sequence?"

As if waiting for him to ask this question, the figure on the screen showed a blurry smile.

"This touches on one of the deepest secrets of Vault 404... Have you heard of the 'Complete Lifeform Project'?"

"Of course I have..."

Chu Guang felt that the eyes staring at him held a certain significance, and a strange sensation gradually grew in his heart.

Could it be—

Just as he had almost guessed the answer, the professor standing in the screen revealed the final truth.

"Your DNA contains all the 'fragments' from that gene library, though most of them exist in an annotated-out form."

"This process was fraught with risk. You were like a nuclear bomb strapped to your body—one misstep and you'd be blown to ashes... But who asked you to be the Administrator? Don't blame me for being cold-blooded; someone had to bear that risk."

"Relatively speaking, the players bear less risk. They only get a small piece of shrapnel, and their job is to dismantle that piece. You, besides carrying the nuclear bomb, are also responsible for information aggregation and integration, using the clues provided by the players to dismantle the 'nuclear bomb' on yourself... And that's one reason why your 'sequence level' is positively correlated with the players' sequence levels and numbers."

"In the entire division of labor, we did draw inspiration from the operation mode of the variant slime mold hive, and made some improvements on that basis."

"So I told you, you don't need to worry about what I got from that ruin, because I've already used that precious legacy on you."

"And you—you are that 'Complete Lifeform'!"