Along the shores of Ling Lake Wetland Park sat Dawn City's Seventh Research Institute, an institution operating under the Scientific Expedition.
Established specifically to investigate topics concerning Alpha Centauri and the Precursor civilization, the facility had only been officially commissioned at the beginning of the month, staffed by a roster of two hundred and twenty-seven personnel.
By wasteland standards, that was an impressive number, particularly for a newly founded research institute with only a modest list of active projects.
Beyond its ample staffing and generous budget, the institute's senior researchers were also top-tier talents within the Alliance's scientific ecosystem.
Take the director, Dai Huai'an: thirty-five years old, hailing from Vault 276. Specializing in high-energy physics, he had previously taught as a professor at Camp 101 for a time.
Later recommended by Dr. Method, he joined the Alliance's Scientific Expedition and held key positions across related research bodies. Both his capabilities and his résumé were nothing short of stellar.
Then there was Yarek, a physicist from Vault 337, and Lin Dong, a former F-rank prospector from the Wandering Marsh Science Committee, among others.
Though their résumés might have seemed slightly modest compared to Director Dai's, their erudition and competence were by no means inferior; in certain specialized areas, they even surpassed him. They were true domain experts.
At present, the Alliance and the Academy were the only entities on the entire wasteland showing a keen interest in "future disciplines" like high-energy physics, which offered little in the way of short-term economic returns.
And if one factored in both the willingness and the financial means to spend money on such endeavors, the Alliance practically stood alone.
Coupled with the Alliance's sterling reputation abroad, there had been hardly any need to actively recruit. These specialists, who had found no use for their talents elsewhere, volunteered themselves at the doorstep, each fully prepared to throw their all into the work.
After all, the Wasteland Era was coming to an end. If they didn't step up now, when would they?
Drawing on his background in high-energy physics, Director Dai quickly outlined the overarching direction for the institute: probing the membrane that separated one universe from another.
In truth, he hardly needed to set that direction himself. The clues left behind by the Precursor civilization had practically illuminated the path forward, explicitly revealing that a Creator existed in this world and that universes were nested within one another, layer upon layer.
Like matryoshka dolls.
Although this was the worldview of a "mystical" civilization, that civilization was vastly ahead of human civilization—just as humanity far surpassed the Doma.
So long as they continued unraveling the clues the Precursors had left behind, they would surely comprehend their own truth, just as the Doma had comprehended the Tree of Ein Sof!
A materialist truth, at that!
Director Dai had absolute confidence in this.
And right around that time, Ye Shi, returning from his voyage to Alpha Centauri, delivered a monumental gift to the expedition's Seventh Institute: the cosmic membrane perforator!
This relic was a work completed by Dr. Qiu Shiye under the inspiration of the Precursor civilization!
One could even say the latter had guided the former by the hand to construct it!
Its function was straightforward: upon receiving a certain amount of energy input, it could transport matter from this universe into the Creator Universe.
Although its underlying principles were far too profound for current human civilization to grasp—both its visible mechanisms and its invisible workings remained as inscrutable as cosmic secrets—that did not stop those who possessed it from using it directly.
Like a black box!
Later, through his mastery of psionics, a Burning Corps soldier named Ye Shi gained further insight from Dr. Qiu Shiye and realized how to operate the perforator in reverse, "borrowing" energy from the Creator Universe.
Though the word "borrow" was used, that energy never actually had to be repaid.
According to the clues left by the Precursors, a single beam of light from the Creator Universe possessed energy rivaling that of a star once brought into a "created universe."
In other words, what they borrowed from the Creator Universe was as insignificant as a speck of dust, virtually negligible.
Surely the "Creator" wouldn't mind.
It was precisely for this reason that after a few cautious trials revealed no safety hazards, the Seventh Research Institute dialed the experimental frequency to the maximum, working around the clock.
It wasn't that Director Dai and his researchers were being rash; the prospects of this technology were simply too alluring!
Even researchers born in the vaults who cared little for money could recognize its immense economic value at a glance.
Once they unraveled its mysteries, they would truly command limitless energy, fundamentally revolutionizing the way energy was harvested!
No longer would they rely solely on the light and heat of their own universe; they could draw a steady, unending torrent of energy from a higher one!
The heat death of the universe would be reversed!
For humanity, whose entire existence had been spent pursuing more matter and energy, could anything be more enticing?
It was no exaggeration to say they would inaugurate an entirely new era atop the New Era!
An era that would eclipse even the Era of Prosperity!
It would be the ascension of human civilization as a whole!
Any material reward or worldly honor paled in comparison to such a monumental undertaking.
Besides, regular transit routes to Alpha Centauri had not yet opened, and plans to construct an observation station in synchronous orbit above the planet Gaia remained in the draft stages. The perforator was the only project the institute could actively work on.
After several successful and controlled trials, the researchers at the Seventh Institute had progressed from merely "chiseling through the wall to borrow light" to sending various objects into the Creator Universe.
At first, they sent a rat. Later, they tried sending a myriapod beast, a mutated bear, a slime mold fruiting body, and even a Deathclaw cub.
They had originally considered sending a mammoth, but the Dawn City Zoo refused to sign off on it, and the researchers hadn't figured out how to maneuver such a creature into their subterranean laboratory anyway, so the idea was dropped.
From this series of tests, the Seventh Institute drew several preliminary conclusions.
The transport beam's maximum capture radius ranged from five to ten meters. This area of effect appeared to scale positively with energy input and was tied to the perforator's active operating duration.
Put differently, the greater the energy input, the longer the aperture punctured into the cosmic membrane remained open, and the wider its field of interference grew.
Reasonably extrapolated, with enough energy, the transport beam could swallow an entire planet whole!
Yet achieving that would demand an astronomical sum of energy, potentially on a stellar scale!
And that was setting aside the secondary challenge of compressing such terrifying energy into a standard fuel canister.
Without modifying the sacred relic itself, sustaining an open duration of three seconds and a capture radius of ten meters was already the upper limit.
Furthermore, matter transported into the Creator Universe vanished permanently.
According to the Precursors' descriptions, it would turn into a beam of light or a cloud of dust in that other universe, unable to return—or if it did, unable to retain its original form.
However, this point had yet to be experimentally verified, so the researchers reserved their judgment.
Additionally, only living organisms could be transported, or corpses within seventy-two hours of death.
"Inanimate objects," including electronic devices, could not be transported on their own; they could only be carried over as accessories belonging to the subject being transported.
The definition of an "accessory" appeared to depend on the subject's self-perception.
The researchers had tried strapping a wristwatch onto a slime mold fruiting body. When the perforator activated, the fruiting body vanished, but the watch clattered to the floor.
Immediately following that, they ran a control experiment by placing the same watch on a monkey. After ensuring the monkey understood the concept of a clock, they conducted the test again. To their astonishment, both the monkey and the watch crossed over into the Creator Universe together!
Armed with this discovery, Director Dai promptly devised a new test plan: wrap an exploratory probe in a corrosion-resistant membrane, embed it inside a chunk of meat, and feed it to a toothless monitor lizard captured from Baiyue Province.
This toothless monitor lizard was a mutated variant of the Komodo dragon. In adulthood, it averaged four meters in length and nearly three hundred kilograms in weight. It swallowed its prey whole, relying entirely on digestive acids to break down food.
Once the beast digested the meat surrounding the probe, it would naturally vomit or defecate out the indigestible device.
The probe would then continuously transmit electromagnetic signals containing observational telemetry until its battery was exhausted.
If they could detect signals from the other universe through the "aperture" made by the perforator during the next test, it would prove that the lizard had not turned into light, but continued to exist intact in that other universe.
Not only that, but by analyzing the returned electromagnetic telemetry, they might glean even more intelligence regarding the Creator Universe!
Without hesitation, Director Dai reported the experimental plan to the Scientific Expedition per standard protocol and immediately commenced preparations.
On the institute's third basement level, inside the isolation chamber housing the cosmic membrane perforator, personnel in protective suits led the caged monitor lizard beside the device and swiftly exited the chamber.
As if sensing danger, the toothless lizard flicked its tongue with sharp hisses, restlessly thrashing its bulky frame inside the narrow iron cage and rattling the bars with loud clangs.
Once staff confirmed everyone had cleared the area, researchers stationed behind the glass observation partition remotely activated the robotic unit inside the chamber, sending it forward to toggle the switch on the perforator.
With the device activated, brilliant light erupted from its core, completely engulfing the caged giant reptile.
Not a sound was made.
When the blinding radiance subsided, the thrashing lizard that had occupied the cage was gone, leaving behind only the lonely chains that had shackled its limbs.
Watching the uncanny sight unfold beyond the glass wall, Yarek, standing beside Dai Huai'an, murmured with deep emotion.
"No matter how many times I see this, I can't help saying... this is simply incredible."
As a physicist revived from cryosleep in Vault 337, he had been conducting physics research toward the tail end of the Era of Prosperity, working at the very frontiers of the field. He had witnessed his fair share of marvels.
Yet even so, the scene before him was profoundly shocking—
A three-hundred-kilogram lizard had vanished right before their eyes.
Without leaving a trace.
"...It's Precursor technology, after all. If they didn't have a few tricks up their sleeve, how could they have ruled hundreds or thousands of star systems?"
Staring at the empty cage through the glass, Lin Dong's face was painted with pure obsession as he muttered under his breath.
Truly—
This was the scientific exploration he had always yearned for!
They were standing before the genuine unknown, uncovering truths human civilization had never before discovered!
Compared to this, the ruins he had once explored and the black boxes he had unearthed were downright primitive!
Seeing Lin Dong's enraptured expression, Yarek gave a helpless shrug and turned his gaze back through the partition.
"Setting aside whether the Precursors really ruled hundreds or thousands of star systems... technology so far beyond our current civilizational grasp is practically indistinguishable from magic to us."
He felt like a "Doma" right now.
Though he had never met an actual Doma, he had read about them in internal expedition reports.
The researchers in the control room spoke in hushed whispers while Director Dai watched the clock, waiting for the lizard to digest the meat in its belly.
Although time might flow at different rates between the two universes, that wasn't the variable under scrutiny today.
What they needed to verify was whether matter transported into the Creator Universe retained its structural integrity.
Only if they failed to detect a signal would they consider whether a temporal disparity had caused the loss of transmission, which they would then investigate with follow-up control experiments.
While he waited in silence, the sliding doors at the back of the control room parted, and a young man in a white lab coat stepped inside.
"How is the experiment going?"
Seeing Yin Fang's unexpected arrival, Director Dai showed immediate surprise, clearly not anticipating that such a prominent figure would attach enough importance to the trial to come in person.
That surprise lingered only a moment, however, quickly giving way to delight and pride.
A broad smile spread across Dai Huai'an's face as he gave his report.
"We just concluded the first phase of testing! Everything went smoothly, and the probe was successfully carried into the other universe by the toothless monitor lizard... Next, we'll proceed immediately with the second phase to verify whether the probe is functioning properly."
"Sounds like I arrived right on time," Yin Fang replied with an approving nod and an encouraging smile. "I have a strong premonition that everyone present today is about to witness history."
Validation from the Alliance's Chief Scientist invigorated the entire room.
Not just Director Dai—nearly every researcher present wore an expression of bright excitement and joy.
Not wishing to disrupt their work, Yin Fang simply took a seat near the edge of the control room as an observer, watching quietly from the sidelines.
In a sense, his working style had been influenced somewhat by Chu Guang: avoid meddling in subordinates' affairs whenever possible, leaving professional tasks to professionals unless someone was slacking off.
When people were entirely immersed in their craft, nothing annoyed them more than having someone hovering over them telling them what to do.
It was human nature.
Though he was the Chief Scientist, he wasn't necessarily more knowledgeable about the Precursors than the specialists in the room. Recklessly throwing around orders risked running the entire project into the ground. It was far better to sit back quietly as a good-luck charm and offer constructive thoughts only when appropriate.
In truth, had he not been so profoundly curious about Precursor relics and the "universe beyond our universe," he might not have bothered coming in person at all, content instead to read the reports on a tablet.
The time for the second phase of the experiment quickly arrived.
Perhaps eager to showcase their competence before the esteemed Chief Scientist, the researchers gave the trial their undivided focus. From the director down to the entry-level operators, everyone was completely locked in.
First, they set a signal receiver inside the isolation chamber. Then they toggled the perforator's configuration from "input mode" to "output mode" before slotting a fresh, empty fuel canister into the reactor.
As for the previous canister, the puncture hole through its casing had rendered it unusable.
This was one of the minor operational quirks of the perforator.
Every forward puncture through the cosmic membrane left a cylindrical hole in the reactor's fuel canister—much like a punched movie ticket—making it impossible to reuse.
Conversely, a reverse puncture through the membrane—"chiseling through the wall to borrow light" from the Creator Universe—left no such mark.
With all preparations complete, the chamber staff evacuated per protocol. The operators in the control room then engaged the remote robotic unit, methodically initiating the perforator.
A moment later, brilliance rivaling the sun filled the chamber once more, spilling terrifying amounts of energy out from the reactor.
Yet—
This trial seemed distinct from the ones before. What radiated from the reactor wasn't just energy; something else appeared to be mixed within it.
Yin Fang's brow furrowed slightly.
At that exact instant, a researcher before the terminal let out an ecstatic shout.
"Gamma radiation detected!"
Beaming looks swept across the room, while Yin Fang blinked in surprise.
*Gamma rays?*
*Could it be—*
*This didn't produce just energy?*
While Yin Fang pondered, the brilliant light subsided.
Director Dai, clearly arriving at the same thought, waited until all metrics read normal before immediately ordering suited technicians into the chamber to inspect the signal receiver mounted near the perforator.
The outcome caught everyone off guard.
They had received no video feed from the probe. Instead, they had captured a peculiar sequence of signals.
Noticing the solemn expressions of the team gathered around the terminal, Yin Fang rose and stepped forward.
"What's on the receiver?"
Hearing Yin Fang's question, Director Dai hesitated a moment before answering.
"We're decoding the signal right now. The output appears to be... a string of binary digits."
Even as he spoke, decoded binary numbers populated the terminal screen, sprawling across the entire display.
The operators ran an immediate analysis. With assistance from a scientific AI, they transcribed the data into decimal values and quickly isolated a repeating sequence.
"7444154..."
Lin Dong read the numbers aloud in a hushed murmur. Then his eyes snapped wide, and he sucked in a sharp breath.
"Wait... our perforator has exactly seven dials!"
Realizing the same thing, Yarek scowled with grave intensity.
"This sequence looks like a key—and one tailored specifically for us."
"What happens if we enter this sequence into the perforator's dials?" a nearby researcher wondered aloud.
Another shook his head.
"No idea. Nobody knows."
The sequence contained too little contextual data. They couldn't even determine the other party's intentions.
"Should we try inputting the numbers into the dials?" The researcher at the terminal turned toward Director Dai.
Director Dai instinctively glanced at Yin Fang. Seeing that the Chief Scientist offered no objections, he turned to Yarek.
"Is the risk manageable?"
Yarek shook his head.
"There's too little information... but theoretically, it should be."
Director Dai frowned. "Theoretically?"
"We're using less than a kilogram of helium-3 fuel, after all," Yarek said with a shrug. "A few hundred grams of helium-3 isn't going to summon a space battleship."
The maximum projection radius of ten meters certainly couldn't accommodate anything of that scale popping out either.
And at the end of the day, it was merely an aperture so microscopic it couldn't even be observed with the naked eye.
Whatever came through would almost certainly correspond to the energy tier they had fed in.
"..."
When the moment came to make a final call, every pair of eyes turned in unison toward the most authoritative figure in the room.
Looking at Yin Fang, the Seventh Institute's director asked tentatively, "Sir... should we run another trial?"
No one knew what awaited them; this was a mystery box in the truest sense.
Inside might lie an opportunity, danger, or nothing at all.
Yet one fact remained indisputable.
If they didn't take this step, they would never uncover a new world.
Should they maintain reverent caution toward the cosmos and step back?
Or bravely press forward?
No one could know the outcome before the test was run.
Catching those nervous yet eager gazes, Yin Fang realized he could remain silent no longer.
*Right.*
*These guys were just looking for someone to shoulder the blame.*
"Your eyes tell me you've already made up your minds..."
Pausing, Yin Fang looked across the room and continued in a steady tone.
"In that case, let's try it."
Just as he expected, hearing his decision brought an immediate wave of relief and excitement across their faces.
Once someone was willing and able to shoulder the risk and responsibility, everything suddenly became much easier.
At least in spirit.
For a fleeting moment, Yin Fang caught a glimpse of what Chu Guang must feel.
That man wasn't just sitting idle as he seemed to be.
In fact, what he handled was likely the most difficult, thankless task of all...
Preparations for the third experiment moved rapidly.
To be safe, Yin Fang formally requested an elevation in the Seventh Research Institute's security rating from the Guards Corps, deploying an additional platoon to reinforce the facility.
The platoon numbered thirty men. Aside from three officers, the remaining twenty-seven troops were Awakened from Shelter 404.
With every precaution taken, the lab personnel adjusted the perforator's parameters according to the code received from the Creator Universe under Director Dai's instructions. They then evacuated the isolation chamber following standard procedure, preparing to trigger the device remotely via the robot.
It was worth noting that random inputs would fail to activate the perforator.
This had been proven in earlier tests.
Because of that, the Seventh Institute's researchers were also mentally prepared for the possibility that nothing would happen.
Fortunately, that anticlimactic outcome did not occur.
The instant the activation button was pressed, brilliant white light flooded the isolation chamber once more.
Watching the numbers jump across the monitor, the researcher at the terminal yelled in excitement.
"Gamma radiation is spiking! This time... the reading is even higher than before!"
Yin Fang stared unblinkingly at the transparent glass partition before him. Amid his astonishment, a creeping sense of foreboding took root.
Something...
Something seemed to be coming through.
Yet even if he wanted to halt the experiment now, it was too late.
In a flash, the lights in the control room flickered, then died with a heavy hum, plunging the room into darkness.
"What happened?!"
"A blackout?! Why now of all times—"
"Wait, did you hear that?!"
While the room scrambled in confusion, a sharp hissing sound drifted out from the pitch-black darkness—like a low growl rising from an abyss.
Hearing that sound carry through the glass partition, Yin Fang felt the hairs on his body stand on end. A chilling dread seized him—a sudden, violent rush of déjà vu.
It was something that had happened before he joined the Alliance.
Back then, he was still an expedition squad leader for the Academy, doing scavenging work and turning over ruins on their behalf.
Yet despite making foolproof preparations for every single mission, things had gone catastrophically wrong during one operation, leaving him as the sole survivor of the entire team.
That operation could only be described as a disaster.
And to protect their own careers, his superiors had unhesitatingly dumped all the blame on him, forcing him to break with the Academy and flee the Wandering Marsh.
That incident had cast a shadow over his entire life...
And right now, that nightmare buried in the deepest recesses of his heart surfaced once again.
Except this time was different.
He was no longer a negligible nobody; he was standing in an entirely different position.
Without a shred of hesitation, Yin Fang made a split-second call and roared at the top of his lungs to the researchers in the room.
"Evacuate! Now!"
Chapter 1037