Behind the Scenes

Universe β, winter of 2025, a scenic resort island in the South Seas. Ever since the news broke that Wasteland OL was about to launch its open beta, this mysterious, fully immersive virtual reality game had caused an enormous global sensation—so much so that this once-bustling vacation paradise had grown considerably deserted. At a beachside bar, the wide, empty counter felt particularly quiet. There was only a bartender mechanically wiping a glass over and over, and a single patron who had ordered nothing but a cup of coffee. The atmosphere was both harmonious and leisurely, yet tinged with a distinct strangeness. There were no other patrons in the place, leaving one to wonder where all those endless glasses to wipe had come from. The guest was stranger still. Though appearing barely in his early thirties, his brow held a calm composure born of watching two centuries of wind and rain. His lips never seemed to stay still, dropping a comment or two from time to time as though chatting with an unseen companion. "As expected of 'the other me.'" Having received the prompt of the mission's completion, the man sitting before the bar smiled faintly. It was as if a thousand-jin burden had been lifted from his shoulders, and even his rigid posture softened considerably. Memories were the cornerstone of consciousness. Once someone absorbed memories that did not belong to them, they would gradually cease to be themselves. His family, friends, and everyone familiar in this world... they all still remembered his name. Yet to him, they were like photographs that had sat for two hundred years; seeing them again, they no longer matched the images in his mind. In truth, this wasn't fair to them. Just as his dear assistant had said, what constituted his "conscious existence" was not solely his own memories, but the memories of others as well. For those people, they had lost the person they once knew so intimately—the self from before he became the "Professor." Yet unfair as it was, he had few choices. In this world, there was no perfect solution that satisfied both sides. Even if he erased the memories from the other world right now, he could never return to that summer of 2014 to start anew. The worldline had already shifted. The former him had already died in a dream, replaced by another self from a parallel universe. Fortunately, "α" had not walked the same path he had, choosing instead to forge ahead along his own way. This was truly the best possible ending. He had guessed long ago what that man would choose. "But if that's the case... Master, doesn't that mean you'll never be able to go back?" A worried voice drifted gently into his ear, like the chime of a wind bell by the door. It was the voice of his assistant. Upon arriving in this world, he had created it immediately... just as he had once done in his original timeline. The clear voice momentarily dazed him, but that distant look soon softened into an amused smile. Chuckling, he picked up the cold coffee from the counter, took a sip, and spoke in a mildly lazy drawl. "Go back? Where else would I go?" The voice floating by his ear asked softly, "Didn't you say you came from another world?" "Did I? Haven't I belonged to this world from the very beginning? I just happened to have a dream about a parallel universe." Still, that dream had been long enough—roughly three times an ordinary lifetime. The AI program running elsewhere fell silent in confusion, pausing a moment before replying, "Uh... I suppose that's one way to look at it." "Right?" The Professor smiled, set down his cup, and continued, "If you board that Observer's pirate ship only to jump off later, all you'll do is turn this world into an utter mess. Better not to board in the first place. I believe in the wisdom of this world's people. They will surely forge a future even better than the Era of Prosperity... After all, every action has an equal and opposite reaction. While the consciousnesses of Universe β exerted influence over the consciousnesses of Universe α, Universe β's consciousnesses were inevitably influenced by them in turn." Even as he spoke, an LCD television not far from the counter began broadcasting the news. The "Pangu" fusion reactor in Daya Bay was undergoing its first ignition test, and the project's leader and founder was a professor named Yan Feng. That fellow had certainly poured a tremendous amount of effort into it. In fact, he had spent even more thought on that reactor than he had on the "game," nearly driving himself mad with obsession. Fortunately, his hard work had paid off, and he had finally stepped out of his own "well." Reaching fruition in the end was only natural. "Tsk. That was originally *my* achievement..." Watching the emotional reporter on the screen and the fusion power plant behind her, which now drew the gaze of the entire world, the Professor couldn't help a faint smile. Never mind. Those were things from another world. The bartender behind the counter set down the glass in his hand. Seeing the nostalgic look on the Professor's face, he asked respectfully, "What do you plan to do next, sir?" This bartender was one of the first-generation residents of Shelter 404—or rather, a member of Shelter 404-β, responsible for security and operational secrecy. In fact, it wasn't just this bartender. Most of Shelter 404-β's residents and bionic android operatives lived in seclusion on this resort island of over a hundred thousand people under the guise of "digital nomads." As for Shelter 404-β itself, it lay in the high seas not far from the island—in a trench roughly three kilometers deep near the Pacific Ring of Fire. With this world's current technology, there was no chance of discovering that shelter even fifty years from now. And for the residents of Shelter 404-β, traveling back and forth required nothing more than a deep-sea submersible; returning home was far more convenient than taking an international business flight. "Mm... I haven't decided yet. In fact, I only just started thinking about it." After pondering for a long while, the previously undecided Professor felt a sudden spark of inspiration and smiled. "Perhaps... to the place I would have gone originally?" The subordinate behind the bar blinked in surprise. Not only him; his ubiquitous AI assistant was equally bewildered, piping up curiously: "The place... you would have gone originally?" The Professor smiled faintly. "That's right. For starters, let's take a trip to Mars. I need to retrieve the 'Venerable' left there first. Mm, the stuff that will let me stay with you a bit longer... This time, I plan to drink it myself." The legendary Water of Immortality. Drinking it granted boundless lifespan. This world had no need for a "Gestalt Lifeform." Besides, he had already conducted that research project once; he had no interest in repeating it. Then again, what was one to do with boundless lifespan? Staying in the Solar System forever sounded rather dull. Aside from the AI assistant by his side and the three thousand researchers, he had no true acquaintances in this "Universe β." Even if he tried getting to know them again, they would probably be baffled by his sudden reappearance. "... It's decided." After another long silence, he suddenly looked up, smiling freely. "An old friend once told me that other civilizations lie hidden within this Milky Way, and that we would cross paths over the coming millennia. While they still haven't discovered faster-than-light engines, I might as well pay them a visit, tour the galaxy, and search for that 'Heart of the Galaxy' while I'm at it." The Heart of the Galaxy. A supreme treasure composed of eleven-dimensional matter, the physical embodiment of universal rules... Supposedly, it was one of the pathways to becoming a Boundary Breaker. In the original timeline, the Observer had mentioned it to him, hinting that he could make it his pursuit. Of course, all that was secondary. He didn't care whether the universe succumbed to heat death hundreds of millions of years in the future, nor did he have any desire to play the role of the mythical mending stone; he was purely curious about that legendary existence. With that, he turned to the bartender behind the counter and smiled. "As for all of you... do as you wish. Our mission is complete. "According to the end of Project 404, our esteemed Administrator-slash-game designer will take over Facility 404-β and oversee the aftermath of the plan. "Whether you wish to return home or remain in this past timeline to live, grow old, fall ill, and pass away, that is entirely your choice... Don't ask me about such things; decide for yourselves." A crewed starship equipped with antigravity devices and a hyperspace engine had already been prepared two years ago, deployed at the bottom of the central Pacific Ocean, ready for launch at any time. Although he hadn't initially built it to tour the galaxy—only to cooperate with "α" in staging a more convincing performance of an advanced alien civilization—it seemed there was no longer any need for that. The nations that had benefited from the Close Encounter of the Third Kind had completely tilted toward the "benevolent contact" hypothesis, even slashing budgets for extraterrestrial investigation agencies. Since there was no longer any use for that "little guy," barely a few hundred meters long, he might as well take it for a spin. Besides, with the technological reserves of the Alliance in Universe α, if they truly wished to expand their interference in the players' world, they could easily construct an even bigger and better one using local resources. In many fields, they had already pulled ahead of an antique like him. Looking at the esteemed Professor, a trace of reluctance showed in the bartender's eyes. He heard the farewell in those words. He wanted to say something to urge him to stay, but in the end he held his tongue, merely giving a solemn nod. "I will give it serious thought..." Returning was a fine choice, but he already had a spouse and child in this world. And not just him. Many others like him had built new families on this distant timeline, becoming part of this world. Now that the mission was complete and Universe α had returned to its proper track, it was time for them to enjoy their own lives. In truth, the Professor envied them a little. Unlike him, who had endured over two hundred years of life, they had at most forty or fifty years of experience; the younger ones were perhaps only in their twenties or thirties, still possessing the energy to consider their personal lives. He was different. Even made young once more, he lacked the patience to re-enact everything he had once done, repeat every word he had once spoken, and then watch those hard-won acquaintances slip out of his life once again. That would be sheer torment. "Mm, no rush. Take your time thinking it over." The Professor smiled and finished the last sip of coffee in his cup. The game had not ended here; what had ended was only the mission of "Shelter 404-β." There were still many days ahead... ... The sun gradually sank behind the mountains. Right when the beach was liveliest, the bar that should have been open for business closed its doors. Throughout the entire day, the internet had been abuzz with discussion about the ignition of controlled nuclear fusion—a piece of news whose spotlight briefly eclipsed even Wasteland OL, which had been sweeping across the globe. This frenzy spilled over into reality beyond the screen. Strolling along the road flanking the beach, the Professor overheard passing tourists discussing the exhilarating ignition more than once. It was understandable. Although the NPCs in Wasteland OL had long mastered the technology to perfection and even spun off a vast array of derivative products, for the humans of Universe β, this was the first time they held energy rivaling a star in the palms of their hands. They had seized the first key leading to the Era of Prosperity. Before long, with energy liberated, they would completely unshackle computing power. And in the near future, the Earth of Universe β would give birth to a second true artificial intelligence lifeform. At first, they would be as flustered as new parents holding a newborn life, but before long they would embrace its existence, liberating themselves once more atop the liberation of energy and computing power. Perhaps they would follow the old path of Universe α, erecting a colossal space elevator along the equator. Or perhaps they would bypass that step, mimicking the New Era's "Alliance" by deploying an antigravity system over the ocean, allowing elevator capsules and various spacecraft models to float upward on their own. In short, just like Universe α, which had welcomed the light of dawn, Universe β where the players resided had likewise welcomed the sunrise of a new era. For the people living on this planet, the distant sea of stars had never felt as within reach as it did today! By the edge of the beach. The Professor stopped in his tracks, casting his gaze toward the brilliant sunset stretched out across the waves. Counting from the summer of 2014, more than eleven years had passed. Over these past eleven years, the Observer had not spoken a single word to him. Yet he was certain that eye was still watching this place from somewhere in the universe. Quite possibly— it was hiding right inside that fiery red sun. Stopping on the sand, he bent down, picked up a pebble, and hurled it with all his might into the shimmering surf. Narrowing his eyes as he watched the silent countercurrent merge into the surging tide, a smile touched the corners of his lips. Like a champion standing alone in an empty stadium, he proclaimed victory in this game in a voice only two could hear: "I still remember you telling me that my chances of winning were one in infinity... But looking at it now, it seems I'm the winner. "You were mistaken about one thing. "I was never just one person, but infinite versions of me who arrived at the exact same choice. "Therefore, what is infinite was never the denominator you spoke of, but the numerator atop a finite denominator. "Thus, my win rate should actually be infinity over 777... which is to say, infinite." Having said this, he paused with a chuckle, leaving the final suspense to his AI assistant, saving a shred of face for the Observer silently watching him, and drawing the final period on this expedition spanning two worlds. "Am I right, Xiao I?"