Inside the shrine at the roots of Doma City's sacred tree, fireflies danced in the air like a pair of gathering and parting eyes.
Sitting cross-legged on the vine-wood bed, Ye Shi stared blankly at the sky. His gaze seemed to pass right through the flickering glow of the fireflies, and straight through the vine-woven walls that should have blocked out all light.
It was a sensation he had never experienced before.
It was like flipping through an illustrated comic, only to suddenly lock eyes with the little figure drawn on the page.
Except, unlike in the past, he wasn't the one turning the page this time.
And the eyes meeting his own belonged to the one beyond a page as thin as a cicada's wing.
"...So that's how it is."
In that single instant, he finally understood why It had said Gaia and the Tree of Ein Sof were both It, yet neither was It.
In fact, it went even further than that—
He also understood why It had said the answer was utterly meaningless to them.
"You broke the fourth wall..." Ye Shi blurted out.
Those were words the Forest People could never comprehend, just like theories of higher dimensions.
After all, their civilization was only in its primitive tribal era; such brilliant concepts had not yet been born among them.
A soft chuckle echoed from the unseen, seeming to emanate from the gathering and parting fireflies.
It had been here the whole time.
And always had been.
"That's right, clever little spark... Congratulations on finding the answer. Though, sadly, there is no trophy."
Ye Shi's eyes went wide.
A bone-chilling shiver crawled up the back of his neck. It felt as though a character on a television screen had suddenly crawled through the glass and stepped right into his living room.
He wanted nothing more than to tear off his gaming helmet right then and make sure there wasn't a second person standing in his bedroom.
Yet he quickly realized how absurd that was...
This was just a game.
Even if it was extraordinarily realistic in every way.
"...What lies behind the wall?" Ye Shi asked aloud, keeping his eyes glued to the murals.
The flickering fireflies answered with a voice that made no sound.
"Nothing at all."
Ye Shi froze.
"...Nothing?"
The voice answered leisurely—or perhaps every answer had been written on the wall from the very beginning.
He had simply read it too slowly.
"Indeed. There is nothing here, yet it possesses everything. Transcending matter, we became eternal. Our destiny is no longer at the mercy of probability; we have left this barbaric universe behind for good... And once we understood everything about this universe, this was the lifelong pursuit for which we willingly gave everything."
Reading this information from the fluctuating light, Ye Shi felt a shock that words could not describe.
So that was it.
Describing Its existence as either Gaia or the Tree of Ein Sof lacked true rigor.
Humanity had merely ventured to the extrasolar realm of Alpha Centauri, and thus unconsciously assumed Its footsteps had only ever graced the third planet orbiting the main-sequence stars Alpha Centauri A and B.
Gaia was merely a trace It had left behind on this world. That included the later "Tree of Ein Sof"—perhaps both were simply some kind of "self-aware ecological life-support system."
The Three-Year War had never been a war between humanity and Gaia. It had merely been an escalated version of the war between the Forest People and the Valley People, with Gaia acting as nothing more than a trump card held by one of the belligerents.
And the weapons of the warring sides had simply advanced from spears and bows to neutron torpedoes and Seeds of Gaia.
The so-called broodmothers of the mutant slime mold had been artificially cultivated from the very beginning.
On that matter, the Academy researcher named White Dove had already provided a wealth of experimental evidence to corroborate the truth.
Even Thea, the broodmother in downtown Qingquan City—incapable of interstellar travel as it was—could never have flown to Earth under its own power.
From the start, it had been a biological weapon developed by the colonists using technology reverse-engineered from Gaia. Even its memories had very likely been artificially implanted.
This wasn't difficult to prove either; Xiao Yu was the prime example.
Its memories had likewise been taught to it by the people of the Alliance, only with vastly different lessons.
That great catastrophe had ultimately ended in mutual destruction. Because of their own inherent limitations, both the colonies and the Human Alliance had been buried in the dust of history, left only to the judgment of posterity.
Now, a new civilization had taken root on planet Gaia, and the sparks of civilization had reignited on Earth in the Solar System.
As for It—
Calling It Gaia was indeed too narrow, as was the Tree of Ein Sof discovered by the crew of the Gemini.
If Ye Shi had to give It a new name, perhaps calling It a "Precursor" would be far more fitting.
That had been a civilization far older than humanity, separated from humankind's emergence in this universe by a gulf of tens or hundreds of millions of years.
Faced with a choice between matter and spirit, they had chosen the latter for reasons of their own. Once their material and spiritual prosperity reached their peak, they underwent a civilization-wide dimensional ascension, rising into another realm entirely.
No—
Perhaps it wasn't as simple as another dimension.
Describing their existence through dimensions was still too narrow. After all, both lower and higher dimensions were still parts of this universe, whereas they had shattered the fourth wall.
To define their existence might require an entirely new term.
Such as the "Void."
It was a realm beyond the event horizon of all living beings in this universe—a realm beyond the fourth wall.
If this universe were likened to a computer game, then what they had breached was the monitor's display screen.
They had drilled a tiny pinhole through that screen, or blasted open a gaping hole, and departed for another universe with an entirely different Planck constant.
Then again, was there any meaning in doing that?
Having traveled to that other universe, they had likely lost their former physical forms. They might not even possess mass anymore, reduced to nothing more than a beam of light or an electromagnetic wave.
And perhaps the universe outside their "window of the event horizon" had its own "window of the world," stacked like matryoshka dolls within its own void.
Relative to the universe they had once inhabited, they had undoubtedly achieved the ultimate ascension and met their "Creator."
Yet relative to the boundless prosperity of their former existence, it could also be seen as a collapse.
From giants, they had become dust.
Ye Shi couldn't comprehend why they would do such a thing, but from Its response, he could sense that It had known the final outcome from the very beginning—far more clearly than an ant like himself ever could.
Yet It didn't care.
If one asked why—
Because that had been their lifelong quest.
They had burned away all sense of self in their native universe, transforming into a light that shone beyond the cosmos...
"We passed through the window of the event horizon, found our Creator, and said hello to him."
"Though he cannot see us, we have all seen him... and for us, that was enough."
"From then on, our story no longer belonged to this universe. Even what you see now is merely an echo left behind after our Big Bang."
"As for Gaia, and the shoots of the Tree of Ein Sof... they are merely lingering traces that we once existed."
"Your compatriot was very clever. He found the answer, and I believe you must have noticed it as well. Just as I said, 'It's not as if you haven't succeeded before.'"
"The answer was on the mural before you from the start. What that child named Dora read to you was the part she could understand. What you see now is precisely what she could not."
Having pieced it all together, Ye Shi heard this voice resonate in his mind.
The realization and the voice seemed to arrive at the exact same instant.
As he contemplated the mural, he gradually "saw" everything experienced by the crew member who had once unraveled this mystery, along with everything recorded in full upon the growth rings.
The sheer incredibility of it stirred an ever-deepening awe in his heart, even leading him to question the true nature of this game.
Staring at the brightening fireflies, he couldn't resist asking aloud:
"How did you do it? That ascension... and reaching the Void."
The voice from the unseen offered no reply.
Or perhaps It had already answered, only Ye Shi couldn't hear or comprehend it.
After all—
An unfathomable gulf of countless tens of thousands of years lay between the two parties holding this conversation.
His experience on the Orion had already proven that trans-temporal information transmission was far from all-powerful.
They could only prompt one another using the cue cards in their hands, hinting at concepts both sides understood.
It spoke slowly, leaving behind a final message.
"We have communicated enough. Knowing too much will do you no good."
"If pressed, I have only one piece of advice—"
"Unless you make the exploration of the spiritual realm your lifelong pursuit, do not attempt to break the fourth wall."
"Not everyone can pass through it smoothly. Many tangled, chaotic things are trapped inside the wall. Even a distant glance would bring you catastrophic trouble... You should count yourself lucky that you met me."
"By the way, a fool among you once begged me to take him to the 'heavens,' but he failed to realize that the 'heavens' have their own labyrinths. Just as you have already realized, beyond the universe lies a new universe, and beyond the event horizon lies a new horizon... Truth is infinite."
"In any case, good luck to you, foolish materialists."
"Perhaps we will meet again."
The voice faded away.
Ye Shi stared blankly at the fireflies overhead, feeling a profound sense of loss that lingered in his chest for a long time.
Having spent nearly a month in this shrine, he had thought he had successfully breached the fourth wall, only to find he was still a step short.
What he had seen—or rather, heard—was merely the echo of an explosion left in this world when some Precursor civilization shattered the void and departed, countless tens of thousands of years ago.
This was all the information left on this planet.
The Gemini's crew had already inscribed their research findings onto the shrine's murals.
If one wished to find more clues regarding the Precursors, one would likely have to venture to other star systems in the cosmos.
"...Blaming the destruction of the Human Alliance on the Precursors behind Gaia might be a stretch, but damn, the price of excavating this ruin was heavy as hell."
Thinking back on everything he had experienced, Ye Shi offered a wry smile, finding it hard to pass judgment.
Of course.
Human civilization hadn't walked away empty-handed from this process either.
Aside from gains in biotechnology and aerospace engineering, their harvest in the field of sociology was equally immense.
Reborn, they would be more resilient and far stronger than they had ever been.
As for himself, he had also gained a great deal from this expedition.
Though he couldn't check his sequence rank without a VM, he could clearly feel that his Perception stat had grown significantly—jumping at least three or four levels, if not more.
And that wasn't all.
Ye Shi suddenly realized he could now read the growth rings on the shrine walls with complete fluency.
On top of that, the fireflies seemed to understand his voice, as did the cricket-like insects.
His "psionics" seemed to have awakened.
...
Just as Ye Shi was marveling at the changes within himself, the war between the Forest People and the Valley People reached its final climax.
Under Tunnan's leadership, the coalition of forest tribes won victory after victory, employing brilliant stratagems that sent the State of Qiu's defensive forces along the ridge into headlong retreat, fleeing at the mere sight of their approach.
In the most recent battle in particular, Tunnan—clad in power armor—had seemed like a Progenitor descending to earth. With an invulnerable body of bronze skin and iron bones, he had charged violently astride a giant bear, rampaging through the Qiu battle lines as if no one stood against him, even slaying the State of Qiu's fiercest warrior on the field.
Countless soldiers dared not meet his gaze, let alone stand in his way, discarding their armor and weapons as they fled.
The appearance of power armor on a primitive battlefield was, without question, a dimensional reduction attack.
As for how Tunnan had mastered the operation of the power armor, it hadn't been difficult at all.
He needed only to use psionics to forge a connection with the past—a feat that posed little challenge to him.
That battle became Tunnan's ascent to godhood; by his strength alone, he shattered several thousand Qiu soldiers!
The battlefield situation turned precarious for the State of Qiu. The elders had no counter against the invulnerable Tunnan and could only pray for the Progenitor's protection.
Just when it seemed the Qiu People were on the brink of annihilation at this desperate hour, a warrior named Qiu Ling suddenly stepped forward.
Previously, he had appeared before the Council of Elders bearing a prophecy from the Progenitor, and had ventured into the depths of the Forbidden Forest on behalf of the Qiu People to seek the lost sacred relic.
Though he had not found the relic, he had passed the Progenitor's trial and returned with an ancient prophecy left by their forebear.
That ancestor named Qiu Shiye had told them that their mission was to travel to the ends of the world, journeying on and on until there was no road left ahead.
The Progenitor's decree was like sweet rain after a long drought, bringing a sigh of relief to the beleaguered Qiu People.
For generations, they had shouldered the duty of guarding the Forbidden Forest Valley; now, they could finally leave this troubled ground, where survival had grown increasingly difficult.
Qiu Ling brought back not only the Progenitor's prophecy, but also the hope of escaping with their lives.
He not only reorganized the State of Qiu's army, but also led the newly rallied soldiers to thwart several encirclement attempts by the forest tribes. Shielding the elderly, women, and children, along with their livestock and tools of production, he guided them over mountains and ridges in a breakout, vanishing into the desolate eastern mountain ranges.
That was the downstream reach of the Nameless River, connecting to a tranquil sea.
According to the Progenitor in the heavens, once they crossed the mountains beneath their feet, cut eastward through the scorching rainforest, and traversed vast deserts and grasslands, they would find a land far more fertile than the Forbidden Forest Valley.
It was a resting place bestowed upon them by the Progenitor.
There, they would erect countless cities, build an infinitely prosperous kingdom, live and work in peace, and explore a world far vaster than the Forbidden Forest Valley.
Qiu Ling persuaded his clansmen to set off with peace of mind, then remained behind at the mountain pass in the eastern ranges with five hundred cavalry to hold the rear.
Though Tunnan had already secured the Forbidden Forest Valley, the triumphant chief was clearly not satisfied with his immediate victory; he wanted more.
Ignoring the prophecy brought by the shrine maiden, he led three thousand elites of the Doma Clan and two thousand of the finest young warriors from the other tribes, following the tracks of the retreating "Sinners" to the foot of the eastern mountains, launching an assault at dusk.
Qiu Ling had long been waiting for them.
He ordered his men to sever the vines binding the rolling logs, releasing a deluge of boulders and timber down the slopes.
The cascading stones and logs crashed down like a mountain torrent, instantly shattering Tunnan's force of five thousand tribal warriors.
Having never witnessed the terror of a landslide, the forest dwellers took it as divine punishment wrought by the Progenitor. Those who weren't battered bloody by rolling rocks were scared out of their wits by the earth-shattering cataclysm and fled in all directions.
Given the organizational limits of a tribal era, once morale shattered, reforming ranks was all but impossible.
Refusing to let this golden opportunity slip away, Qiu Ling led his five hundred lizard-mounted warriors in an immediate charge.
Following hard upon the heels of the tumbling rocks and logs, the wild lizards became an inescapable nightmare for the Forest People.
Watching his soldiers scatter like loose sand, Tunnan nearly bit his teeth to pieces in rage.
Though he knew defeat was sealed, he refused to give up. Relying on the invulnerable iron armor he wore, he rode his giant bear and charged up the slope all alone.
Right then, a crisp whistle tore through the air, followed by a sharp clang.
Before he could register what had happened, an arrow punched clean through his kneecap.
It was a shot loosed by Qiu Ling.
In his hands rested the divine bow bestowed by the Progenitor!
As for the arrow, there was nothing extraordinary about it, save for its arrowhead fashioned from dark green crystal.
With a wretched scream, Tunnan tumbled from the giant bear's back, rolling all the way down to the foot of the mountain.
Only then did he recall the prophecy that the shrine maiden named Dora had brought back from the forest!
Though he had misinterpreted the true meaning of the Arrow of Retribution in virtually every sense, to him at this moment, the arrow piercing his knee was unmistakably a warning.
"Retreat!"
Swallowing his humiliation, he finally gave the order to pull back, retreating into the forest with fewer than three hundred battered remnants.
Meanwhile, Qiu Ling—who had shot Tunnan from the hillside and repelled "hundreds of thousands of troops" without losing a single soldier—became a myth in the eyes of the Qiu People, a new legend walking the land.
Yet he did not linger in this land of strife out of greed for victory as Tunnan had.
They had farther places to go.
They would leave their footprints along the ocean shores and sow the seeds of civilization across every corner of this land.
"Forward!"
Holding the longbow high, he bellowed to his high-spirited soldiers, reined his wild lizard around, and led his people deep into the mountains.
Though he loathed letting those people go, Tunnan had no choice but to swallow his hatred.
This sudden, crushing defeat had utterly ruined his grand design to unite the forest.
Even though the Doma Clan had successfully reclaimed the sacred ground, they were severely crippled.
And after this, he and his people would still have to face punishment from the Progenitor.
Helped to his feet by his subordinates, he felt weaker than he ever had in his life. The throbbing agony of his wound even made him feel his days were numbered.
Only regret remained in his heart—regret over his stubborn willful pride, regret that he hadn't heeded the warnings, and regret that he hadn't granted those "Sinners" a path to survival, which would have granted him one as well.
Yet things had come to this; it was too late for regrets.
After the sun dipped below the horizon, both sides proclaimed their respective victories and departed toward the futures they each believed in.
As for what came next, that was another long and winding epic...
Chapter 1014