Applause, whistles, cheers, and shouts—the voices of the multitude echoed across the entire square.
No one conducted them.
No one egged them on.
Those surging waves of sound rose straight from the depths of every single heart!
They had conquered the wasteland!
They had triumphed over their former selves!
Every one of them was the dawn that dispelled the long night, the sun rising steadily above the horizon!
"Long live the Alliance!"
"Long live the New Era!"
"To unity!"
"To the survivors!"
"To every one of us!"
That soul-stirring chorus ignited the blood in every chest. Even General MacLaren, standing in the viewing stands, felt an irresistible urge to join in, though political prudence ultimately reduced his impulse to polite, light applause.
Unlike the stiff, self-conscious officers of the Eastern Empire, the Enterprise representatives carried little baggage about appearances.
Yi Chuan, who was standing to one side, couldn't help shouting along at the top of his lungs.
"Fucking awesome—!"
He had learned the term from the players.
Though he hadn't known what it meant at first, repeated use had taught him its exact flavor.
Myriarch Symes, clapping with measured courtesy, glanced at the man, subtly exchanging a glance with MacLaren before murmuring in an undertone, "Isn't that fellow from the Enterprise?"
"Those folks are all like that. No need to be surprised," MacLaren replied softly. After a brief pause, he added his own thoughts. "Besides, there's nothing wrong with cheering for a new era. It's a good thing for everyone, including the Wilante... in my personal opinion."
Ignoring the startled look in Symes's eyes, MacLaren let the conversation drop.
In truth, His Majesty Salen would not necessarily care how they conducted themselves at this grand gathering.
After all, without that sovereign's tacit consent, the reformist faction he represented—advocating learning from the Alliance—would never have existed in the first place.
His Majesty was a truly wise and capable emperor. He hadn't strangled the progressive elements in the Eastern Empire to preserve absolute authority; instead, he had struck a delicate balance between progress and tradition.
Yet that was precisely where the problem lay.
Deep down, the vast majority of Wilante could not accept radical change—or at least, the Wilante who chose the Eastern Empire couldn't.
Even within the reformist faction, admiration leaned far more toward the Alliance's orbital weapons and land-based naval guns than toward its social ideals.
They still needed time.
General MacLaren was confident, however, that it wouldn't take too long. Three generations at most would suffice.
So long as he governed New West Sail Port well enough...
Just as MacLaren was lost in thought, two pairs of eyes not far away were watching the Eastern Empire's delegation without blinking.
Those eyes belonged to the envoys of the State of Brahma and the State of Mammoth.
They stood on opposite sides of the stands.
One gazed at them with prostrate worship as a model to emulate, while the other regarded them with visceral contempt, as though staring at demons.
Worship had its reasons, and contempt had its justifications.
In a sense, the Wilante were like a mirror reflecting the fractured soul of Brahma Province's survivors.
And vice versa: the people of Brahma were equally a mirror for the Wilante.
They were two sides of the same coin.
Even if most people on either side rarely realized it.
Unlike the Legion and the Enterprise, the Academy's representatives were far more composed. Standing in the stands, Li Ke and Yang Kai appeared thoroughly relaxed, as though everything remained completely under control.
And indeed, it was.
As a neutral power on the wasteland, their behind-the-scenes schemes had largely succeeded without sacrificing the interests of any survivor faction.
That was the hallmark of the finest conspiracies.
Far from making enemies of the people they had used, they had turned them into aligned partners with shared interests.
In this way, they could depart the planet with peace of mind. If they crossed paths again millennia from now, they might well become rekindled allies.
Of course, there had been internal debate within the Academy lately—specifically over whether to continue pursuing the plan formulated two centuries ago.
Dr. Conclusion's directive had been simple: those who wished to stay could stay; those who wished to follow him could come along.
It was the best possible outcome.
The ark bound for the future could never have accommodated everyone anyway, and this gave closure to those choosing to remain...
The jubilant waves of cheers continued to surge across the plaza.
Unlike the varied expressions in the viewing stands, the joy shared by the crowd in the square was remarkably uniform.
His face flushed red with excitement, Wrench shouted "Long live the Administrator!" at the top of his voice, without the slightest trace of airs befitting the commander of the Alliance's First Army.
His ardent gaze was identical to the day he had first puffed out his chest, shouldered a wooden stick, and stood before Chu Guang—
*"Wrench, Number 006, my Lord!"*
To this day, he remembered that moment clearly. It had been the first time he had spoken face-to-face with the Administrator who had rescued him from the marauders.
That man had never looked down on him for his humble origins in the dirt. He had even appointed him captain of the guard.
From that very second, Wrench had resolved in his heart to spend the rest of his life following him—
Even though, under that man's guidance, they had long ceased using "loyalty" as the sole measure of virtue, and had long stopped addressing him as "my Lord."
Nor was Wrench the only one.
Lyu Bei was the same.
So were the senior officers of the Second Army, the Third Army, and the General Staff, as well as every member of the Guards Corps.
Most of them had begun following Chu Guang long ago, even before the birth of the Alliance.
Beyond the wastelanders rescued by Shelter 404, many among them had once been its captives.
Vannus, for instance.
He had once been a traditional Wilante officer with RDX flowing through his veins, prepared for war from the moment of his birth, never doubting the law of the jungle that the Legion had drilled into him since childhood.
It wasn't until he baked his own bricks and built a modest, unimpressive house with his own two hands that he suddenly realized the world extended far beyond what he had seen. Outside his narrow view lived countless ordinary souls.
They were the true bedrock of the world's existence.
If the vast majority of civilization could not attain the most basic equality, the privileges of the few were nothing more than castles in the air resting atop a heap of garbage.
From that very moment, his life had found a new ideal.
Rather than the mansions, gold, and fine wines he had already indulged in to excess, he wanted to see what a more equal new world would look like.
And that man had never disappointed his expectations, genuinely showing him an era unlike anything he had known before.
Every coming day was something to look forward to...
Vannus was not the only one harboring such thoughts. In the crowd not far away stood another striking figure.
Her fiery red hair cascaded over her shoulders like an autumn waterfall of maple leaves.
Gazing at Chu Guang beneath the monument, Xia Yan had three parts joy and admiration in her eyes, while the remaining seven parts were emotions she couldn't quite articulate.
Unlike everyone else, including Xiao Yu and Pai, she had never held grand visions for a new world. The motivation driving her forward was never some lofty ideal; she simply wanted to be of help to him.
After eating so much of his food, basic decency demanded that she do something in return.
Not to mention the debt she owed for her leg...
She had been alone since childhood, living a mercenary's life from one day to the next. Without an unexpected turn, she would have died silently in some forgotten corner like most mercenaries in Boulder City.
In fact, she had come terrifyingly close to that fate. After losing her leg, she had abandoned every illusion about the future.
Yet just when she had given up on herself, that man hadn't cast her aside. Instead, he had only half-jokingly warned that if she didn't study hard, he would throw her out.
Of course, he had never once done so, nor had he ever followed through on any of the harsh threats he tossed around. Once the hardest days had passed, he had sent her and Xiao Yu—both still of school age—to Camp 101 to study.
Looking back now, that had probably been the first beam of light piercing the darkness of her life...
So much so that at times she couldn't help wondering whether, if her father were still alive, he would have been just like him: strict, yet kind.
Though things had turned out a little different from what she had envisioned, her education at Camp 101 had ultimately made her a better person.
She had never imagined that an illiterate girl like her would one day become an engineer, collaborating with others to design the Alliance's first domestically developed power armor.
Every day ahead was worth anticipating, even if she had no grandiose dreams.
*"Thank you..."*
*"I hope I've been of help to you."*
Not far from her, Alisa's face was flushed with excitement. Shedding her usual gentle, well-mannered demeanor, she clapped her hands until her palms turned red, cheering enthusiastically.
She had finally lived to see this day.
Following the collapse of the Inner City's high towers, she was once again witnessing the dawn of a new era—
This moment mirrored the future she had envisioned.
Having liberated Boulder City, the survivors outside its walls had at last attained their own glorious liberation.
From this day forward, they would no longer distinguish between "us" and "them."
And not just in Qingquan City—this held true for all people who stood united.
Before anyone realized it, that once-unimaginable future had arrived unbidden.
She was genuinely happy for him from the bottom of her heart.
Xiao Yu was equally moved.
The frail, emaciated little girl of the past had grown into a graceful young woman.
She hadn't expected Big Brother Chu to remember things from so long ago. She covered her mouth in disbelief.
Even as she tried to rein in her overwhelming emotions, tears welled up and glistened in her eyes.
"Hopeless, completely hopeless... this one's been brainwashed," Pai muttered beside her, shaking her head in exasperation as she watched Xiao Yu, whose eyes were entirely filled with "Big Brother Chu."
Still—
It was hardly surprising that the wastelanders here viewed him as a living god.
Come to think of it, what he had said was right.
Most vaults had either bungled their missions and blamed their subordinates, or adapted to the wasteland and cowered in a quiet corner.
Very few people had burned themselves down for the cause again and again like they did.
Then again, anyone else probably couldn't pull it off even if they tried, could they?
Regardless, there was no denying they had accomplished something monumental.
This legendary saga might well become the first chapter of some magnificent epic...
In a corner of the square, Yin Fang stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Qi Liu, the director of the Academy's Investigation Department.
The latter had once been his supervisor's supervisor's... supervisor—someone of such exalted standing that Yin Fang could never have hoped to lay eyes on him.
Yet today, the two stood as equals.
Strictly speaking, Yin Fang was even slightly higher in status than his former superior.
After all, he was now the Alliance's Chief Scientist, equivalent to the Academy's Chief Technology Officer.
However, he cared little for rigid formalities and had no fondness for putting on airs.
At this moment, he stood here simply as a former Academy prospector, welcoming the new era he had long anticipated.
"I've been thinking about something."
Hearing the voice beside him, Qi Liu gave a warm smile and asked courteously, "What might that be?"
Gazing toward the monument, Yin Fang narrowed his eyes and chuckled freely. "Sometimes I can't help wondering: back when you sent people chasing me all the way here, did you drive me here on purpose?"
Qi Liu blinked in mild surprise, then laughed softly. "Hardly. What happened with you was pure coincidence—an accident, really."
"Is that so?" Yin Fang smiled. "I thought everything was part of your calculations. Guess that wasn't the case after all."
"You're only just realizing that?" Qi Liu took no offense, playfully quipping, "To be honest, most of our strategies drifted far from their original intent, while unintentional actions ended up producing unforeseen results. Sometimes I can't help wondering if an even grander plan encompassed us all from long ago, making every mistake turn into the best possible arrangement."
In a conversational tone, Yin Fang replied, "My view is the exact opposite. It wasn't mistakes turning into the best arrangements; it was people making choices in unison that overturned the worst possible outcomes."
Qi Liu gave him a surprised look, a trace of admiration gradually surfacing on his usually impassive face.
"If only every prospector in the Academy had your breadth of vision."
"How do you know they don't?" Yin Fang chuckled softly, speaking noncommittally. "Though I suppose that's the difference between us. We never demand that every Alliance researcher possess the vision of a Chief Technology Officer; we simply believe that every researcher has the potential to become one. The day I'm gone, a thousand more will take my place."
Qi Liu tried to picture that future scene, his thoughts ultimately condensing into a quiet sigh.
"...That really is quite terrifying."
...
With the speech drawing to a close, the decoration ceremony officially commenced. The players who had participated in the final battle stepped onto the dais beneath the monument one after another, where Chu Guang personally pinned medals symbolizing the highest honor onto their chests.
Aside from the Burning Corps still floating aboard the Lagrange Point space station, virtually every Alliance corps took part in the ceremony. Wearing that gleaming golden glory on their chests, they strode proudly toward the crowd with heads held high, soaking in the flowers, applause, cheers, and admiration.
In a way, this served as a military parade unique to the Alliance.
For the players, this realization of self-worth and sublimation of purpose was an absolute blast!
After all, this was an experience that no amount of money could buy.
Veterans who had experienced similar ceremonies before remained relatively calm, but some greener recruits were so overwhelmed with excitement that they nearly disconnected on the spot.
The grand ceremony continued. Aerial drones captured the scene from multiple angles, transmitting live data feeds back to the Endpoint Cloud in Ideal City.
By now, users of the Endpoint Cloud were no longer confined to Ideal City residents; they encompassed every major survivor settlement across central and eastern Zhongzhou.
This included Dawn City in River Valley Province, Weifu City in Jinchuan Province, the settlements along the Death Coast, Port French Fries by the Baiyue Strait, and many more.
It even reached the islands of the South Sea Alliance, Golden Gallon Port, Silver Moon Bay, and beyond.
For survivors unable to attend in person, they too had the chance to witness the grandeur unfolding in Dawn City's square and share in the joy of the New Era alongside the locals...
Meanwhile, similar celebrations were taking place not only in Dawn City, but throughout the wasteland.
Perched atop the citadel of Norton City, Emperor Salen of the Eastern Empire delivered his own New Era address and tardily awarded a controversial commemorative medal to General Griffin.
He had been a dutiful and conscientious general, but unfortunately, he had backed the wrong faction and followed the wrong leader.
Now that the eastward expansionists had scattered like monkeys from a falling tree, Salen could finally nail shut that long-festering coffin.
Henceforth, the Eastern Empire would enter an entirely new historical chapter. What they needed to ponder was no longer which direction to expand, but how to find an appropriate balance between the old and the new.
On the other side of the Great Desert.
Mahatma Zayed, having executed the traitor Grove and his faction, jubilantly announced a decisive victory in the war over red soil. He boldly proclaimed that he had never claimed red soil was inedible, adding that if one felt truly overstuffed, a bite of dirt was a fine way to tickle the palate.
The new Education and Propaganda Commissioner, succeeding Sir Kabaha, promptly patched up his earlier statements. Commissioner Sava, standing directly behind him, immediately raised a hand to declare that those words had been his own. In an unspoken consensus, everyone began the next round of bloody political maneuvering.
Happily, red soil—once forbidden to eat—was now back on the menu. Overnight, it seemed, red soil no longer encroached on arable land; instead, it had become a delightful condiment of life.
In the face of Brahma Province's catastrophic famine, General Rowell's red soil had once again played an indelible, decisive role, allowing the stuffed masses to hold their heads high and breathe easily at last.
This time, no one would deny his achievements.
Regrettably, however, the man who had penned his biography was already buried beneath the very soil he had cultivated.
Even though this, once again, had not been his intention...
...
The Great Fissure.
Inside a conference room carved from obsidian, the Chief—who had lived for countless years—smiled with faint approval at the pale blue holographic projection hovering before the table.
"I knew I wasn't mistaken. That man truly is the 'Professor'... No wonder he achieved what I could not."
Sitting before the table with arms crossed, Dr. Conclusion laughed dryly, a mocking glint in his eyes. "You know, back when my mentor was alive, what he feared most was people thinking like you."
The Chief raised an eyebrow. "When he was alive?"
Dr. Conclusion countered, "Do you honestly think he's still alive?"
"..."
The Chief fell silent for a long time. A faint wisp of loneliness and sorrow rose in his clouded pupils.
Such emotion rarely surfaced on his face, yet now it lingered exceptionally long.
"I suppose you're right..."
As if letting go of a burden, he exhaled a long sigh, his voice tinged with self-deprecation. "Two hundred years... I still remember meeting him for the first time when I was just a boy. Heh, so it's a white-haired man burying the black-haired after all... Not a bad ending, really."
The only pity was that, apart from the frozen popsicles sleeping in cryogenic freezers, hardly anyone from that era remained.
A new era...
He wasn't particularly eager to see it.
Perhaps that was one of the reasons he had never been able to muster much enthusiasm.
Of course.
There was very little they could do nowadays anyway.
The Post-War Reconstruction Committee had once been powerful and mighty... but that had been over a century ago. Today, they could do little more than cling to the Aegis shield and huddle in their solitary corner.
Glancing at the Chief, who was still reminiscing about the past, Dr. Conclusion suddenly recalled something and remarked casually, "...Speaking of which, the war in the Free State seems to have ended. In the end, Mayor Audo, who led the citizens' uprising, appears to have won."
The Academy had not intervened directly in that conflict, merely observing from afar.
The Alliance and the Enterprise had established safe zones outside the Free State to shelter civilians, doing nothing beyond that.
Of course, volunteers rushing in to fight were another matter entirely.
After all, the Free State and the Flint Group had exported their fair share of mercenaries in the past; this time, the boomerang had simply struck back.
The Chief showed little surprise. Evidently, he had already known.
In fact, the one who had pushed Mayor Audo to make a change was none other than himself.
"...Is that so? Good. Sigma was a decent lad; clawing his way from the bottom of the slums to the pinnacle of the spire was no small feat. But his era has ended after all."
If he had a fault, it was that he had failed to change while there was still time, instead magnifying and visiting upon others the very suffering he had once endured.
A man who becomes a dragon will always encounter a stronger dragon slayer—to say nothing of the fact that the entire wasteland had changed its sky.
"Heh, you certainly make being a hands-off manager look easy," Dr. Conclusion remarked with light mockery.
The Chief didn't mind, replying in an even tone, "It's not that I chose to be hands-off; I had no other choice. I once tried to control everything, just as when you were still here. But the end result was that everything spiraled out of control, just as you witnessed."
Dr. Conclusion shrugged noncommittally.
He didn't agree with that premise; the Academy possessed plenty of positive examples in cybernetics and control theory.
Granted, he acknowledged that this came at the expense of sacrificing a portion of the population.
The Chief fell silent for a moment before continuing, "The fate of the Free State was sealed from the day it was founded. Those who wanted stability without restraint were doomed to drift above the clouds like a hot air balloon, only to enter free fall once they crossed the critical threshold..."
"And not just the Free State; many places are the same. Their current predicament didn't arise because someone named Sigma deceived them, but because every single one of them was a con artist... successful con artists or failed ones."
"As for that fellow Sigma, he was merely the most successful of the lot... Of course, now that they've realized the problem, they can soon move on to the next historical stage."
At this point, the Chief turned his gaze toward Dr. Conclusion, his tone laced with curiosity. "What I'm most curious about is you... Now that the Wasteland Era has ended, do you still intend to take those researchers and wander beyond the Solar System?"
Conclusion nodded. "Yes."
The Chief looked at him in astonishment, then laughed softly. "To think there's someone in this world more stubborn than an old relic like me."
Conclusion offered a faint smile, paying no heed to the jest, and spoke nonchalantly. "It has nothing to do with stubbornness, nor does it concern the Wasteland Era. I am merely fulfilling my mentor's dying wish."
Puzzlement flickered in the Chief's eyes. "Your mentor... You mean the Professor? He told you to do this?"
His voice carried an urgent edge, as if desperate for an affirmative answer.
Yet Conclusion merely shook his head, indifferent to the old man's perspective, and continued on his own, "He never ordered me to do it. He only told me... that had the Wasteland Era never occurred, he would most likely have taken a group of like-minded individuals to do precisely this, rather than diverting the resources and funding of the 'Ark' project into building black boxes and vaults."
The Chief stared at him in disbelief for a long time before muttering under his breath, "...So that was it. I always wondered why it was called the Ark Project. That's what it meant."
Ignoring the Chief's muttering, Conclusion continued in a calm, matter-of-fact tone, "He told me much more. He said that if all went well, millennia from now, this ark sailing into the future would hatch an archaeological and academic organization called the Academy across this galaxy..."
"Unlike the Academy today, that future Academy would be an interstellar cooperative organization dedicated to unearthing the ruins of the Precursor civilization and exploring the nature of the universe. Its members wouldn't even be limited to humans, including extraterrestrials from other civilizations as well."
"Though it sounded excessively utopian, I will never forget the look on his face when he described that scene to me... It was as though he had truly seen those things with his own eyes."
"From that moment on, my mind was made up. I would inherit his legacy and do this in his stead... To that end, I didn't hesitate to upload my consciousness into circuit boards, trading my death for endless life."
"It coincided with the collapse of the Post-War Reconstruction Committee, when so many people were desperate to leave this 'dead planet.' Thus, many others and I found a shared goal. Thanks to that, the Academy ceased to be a loose academic association and acquired tangible political power."
At this point, a faint smile appeared on the face of the man floating in the holographic projection.
"It turned out quite well, really."
"Now we can weed out those who merely sought refuge and leave them on the ground, taking only the like-minded to carry out this magnificent endeavor."
Chapter 1059