Orbital Drift Bottle

"Sacrifices are inevitable on the road to eternity. You are not the only one who has laid down their life for this." "You were a clever girl, but curiosity killed you. Faced with survival or the truth, you just had to choose the most inconsequential one." "Farewell. Do not blame me." "It is all natural selection." "Before the new world arrives, sleep peacefully..." It would be a sweet dream. Even if the process was a bit painful... Crows perched all across the cracked, ruined walls. The setting sun stretched out the shadow of razor-sharp claws alongside that coarse, raspy voice. It stood in the middle of the street, gazing at the dusky glow sinking in the distance, muttering comforting words that were meant for who-knew-whom. Its amber pupils constricted slightly. Its focused gaze seemed to pierce through the burning clouds, coming to rest somewhere beyond the horizon. After a long while, content and satisfied, it pulled its gaze back from the distance. Yet the moment it turned around to leave, its eyes met those of a group standing at the end of the street. They were a pack of ragged beggars, dressed in tattered rags, clutching iron chains in their hands, rifles with fixed bayonets slung across their backs. The amber pupils glared at them, and snorting breath hissed from its muzzle-like nostrils. The deathclaw's face was plastered with disdain. A swarm of suicidal ants... Meanwhile, standing on the opposite side, Battlefield Atmosphere Group's face was flushed with excitement. He barked in a low voice to his subordinates beside him. "Do as I said! Hurl the chains onto it! Hit or miss, run straight for the nearby buildings immediately..." "Don't hesitate! Hesitation means a free feed!" Watching the massive, tank-like body charge forward, Battlefield Atmosphere Group gripped the iron chains tightly and roared with soaring morale. "Oligei, brothers—" "Just go for it!" Although Li Ba had no idea what 'Oligei' meant, he still screamed to vent his terror, cheering on his own body where every single cell was trembling. "Awoo!" ... While Battlefield Guy, having just been promoted to decurion, led his men in a battle of wits and courage against the deathclaw, the official forum in another world was also bustling with activity. [Shelter 79 Intel Decrypted: The Administrator Is Actually the Ultimate Villain?! (Exchanged with my life, please leave an upvote before you go QAQ)] After logging off, Sisi organized all the clues she had gathered from the *Experiment Log* and compiled them into this post. "December 30, 2169. The fortieth year of the Wasteland Era is coming to an end. Although many things happened this year, fortunately our experiment continues." "However, on this special day, I do not want to write too much about the experiment. I plan to write a little about 'our' story, just in case one day I develop Alzheimer's and completely forget our past." "...Shelter 79 was completed in 2120, five years before the outbreak of the Doomsday War. In the People's Federation's permanent fortification sequence, this shelter was designated 'T'—a research-type shelter. Its purpose was not to harbor any residents, but rather to serve as a specialized research facility preserved to deal with extreme post-war scenarios." "Based on the premise that human nature is unreliable, the Post-War Reconstruction Committee's vision might fail. Our legacy might not be used to forge a new paradise, but rather become a tool for the few to exploit the many, or even an obstacle to the revival of civilization." "Assuming our civilization regressed back to the feudal age, or even earlier tribal times, what we would need would not be steam engines or heavy machine guns, but a monarch who could lead us through the darkness, guiding us from savagery to a new world." "He must be powerful enough, concentrating all supreme might into one person, ideally possessing near-infinite lifespan to accompany his people across the long river of time, ensuring the ideal never fades. He would sacrifice himself after rebuilding utopia, returning everything to the people who trusted him." "Although this was merely a concept based on assumptions, even if there was only a one-in-ten-thousand chance, under allowable conditions, we had to try." "Thus, Plan 79 was born." "As one of tens of thousands of contingency options, the goal here was to produce an 'Administrator' of flawless capability and morality after 120 years of isolation, who would lead his people to rebuild our civilization on the surface." "A total of one hundred thousand researchers participated in this project. We entered the shelter during the first year of the war and awakened from it on the tenth winter after the war ended, working methodically under the Administrator's guidance." "At first, the project proceeded smoothly. Without the censorship and obstruction of the Science and Technology Ethics Committee, we quickly achieved phased progress. Unfortunately, in the fortieth year of the Wasteland Era, an unforeseen event struck our project after all." "The glacial period is coming to an end and is expected to conclude entirely ten years from now, half a century earlier than computer simulations predicted. Coinciding with the death of the first-generation Administrator during this transition between old and new, not only did the new generation of residents question the validity of the 'plan,' but even we, the researchers who entered the shelter earliest, fell into debate over whether to continue." "According to the protocol, we selected the second Administrator from the new generation of residents, handing him the power to choose the future. Yet surprisingly, this bold young leader, originally an opponent of Plan 79, completely reversed his stance within a few short months of receiving the shelter's authority, becoming a staunch advocate of Plan 79." "Not only that, he adopted far more aggressive experimental strategies, demanding that we no longer be constrained by forms of life or experimental methods. Large numbers of clones were thrown into the experiments. For the sake of efficiency, we even modified the clones' genomes, giving rise to vastly different sub-species." "I vaguely sensed that this was wrong, but it seems too late to speak of that now..." "June 11, 2178. It seems to have cleared up outside. The damn snow has finally stopped!" "June 29, 2178. He must be insane..." "July 8, 2178. Many have died for that mad plan. I will likely die soon as well, but there is no sorrow in my heart. Even without those events, my life would have nearly reached its end. Before the final moment arrives, we have done everything we could, even if we did not manage to carry out every single thing flawlessly." "Perhaps, as he said, everything is natural selection." "I hope that upon waking next time, our world will have been made anew, and reborn, I may have the honor of beholding a new paradise..." "The above is merely from the perspective of an ordinary researcher." "The logs displayed on the VM were in machine translation, so I cleaned them up roughly. The key information should be in those logs from June to July 2178. Later on, I'll gradually post the original text to the forum. If there are any missed clues, please help me look for them." Less than three minutes after the post went live, the reply section instantly surpassed a hundred floors. Players and cloud gamers alike chimed in with noisy discussions. However, only a handful of replies contained actual substance. Meat Mountain Steamed Bun: "We thought you got lost; we wandered around that building for ages." OwO Sesame Paste: "...That's way too creepy." Tail: "Waaah, my Sisi died such a tragic death! Damn it... that bastard! I'm going to set fire to his shelter! (;｀O′)o" Canyon Mole: "Probably useless. The Administrator's authority in the shelter is absolute. Even if you manage to sneak fire-starting tools inside... well, I doubt they lack fire extinguishers. (side-eye)" Tail: "!!!" Sisi: "Mmh, that's what I thought too. Exposing ourselves now makes no sense. Better to act like nothing happened and give it a surprise at the end." The most unrealistic aspect of this game was probably the ability to communicate outside the match. Although the NPCs dedicated themselves to playing their roles, unfortunately, they could never imagine that something like a 'game forum' existed in another world. That Yong Shi would never dream that the secret he hadn't hesitated to silence someone for had already been leaked clean... Brother Edge: "So the known clues so far are: Shelter 79's ultimate goal was to cultivate a monarch of flawless morality and eternal lifespan? Only for various reasons, the experiment went off the rails?" Yaya: "Lifespan is easy enough... but what even counts as flawless morality? _(:з」∠)" Elaina: "Like the 'Philosopher King' from Plato's works? (funny)" Brother Edge: "So the experiment failed, then." Fang Chang: "Not necessarily failed. Think carefully about what year it is now. (side-eye)" Brother Edge: "It's 2341." Brother Edge: "Hiss, wait! If that Yong Shi is the second-generation Administrator mentioned in the experiment log, doesn't that mean the experiment succeeded?!" Fang Chang: "The probability is extremely high. Rather than that serum with unknown functions, I suggest you find Shelter 79's Administrator." OwO Sesame Paste: "But the Administrator has absolute authority in the shelter. Even if we find him... we can't do anything to him, right?" Fang Chang: "That 'Yong Shi' might not even be inside the shelter. Otherwise, why didn't he retrieve the serum himself instead of pinning his hopes on a group of unpredictable outsiders?" OwO Sesame Paste: "Oh, right... An Administrator's control over the shelter is absolute. He definitely has a reason he can't return to the shelter, which is why he needs outsiders' help." Tail: "Ooh, ooh, ooh! I see!" Sisi: "Umm... While I think so too, I still suggest playing along with him and getting the serum first." Fang Chang: "Yeah, that's certainly an option. But you must be careful not to let him snatch the serum away... That's the only bargaining chip in your hands." Brother Edge: "Haha, don't worry about that! We have over a hundred Awakened stationed here. It's impossible for it to get stolen! (grin)" Sisi: "Putting up a death flag like that makes me kinda scared. (side-eye)" Indebted Big Eye: "Speaking of which, who could that Yong Shi be?" Makabazi: "Listening to your discussion, I feel like everyone in Xiangling Town is suspicious... That radio was found in the library, right?" While the players chattered away, Scavenger, who hadn't spoken the entire time, suddenly flashed into the comment section. "Actually, I was just wondering, is there a possibility..." "That guy isn't even human at all?" ... Deep night. In the wasteland seventy kilometers away from Qingquan City, twenty-five fully armed soldiers advanced along an abandoned highway. This had once been a small town, but it was now completely derelict. Flanking the concrete road that was snapped into multiple sections were heaps of collapsed houses and construction rubble. The nearest survivor settlement was Junk City, with a population of a few hundred thousand, but that had nothing to do with their objective today. The abandoned research institute hidden in the town was their true goal. Stopping in his tracks, Lao Bai cast a distant glance at the institute ahead, comparing it to the photograph on his VM screen, and joked. "It looks completely different from two centuries ago." A wooden palisade smeared with blood and minced meat encircled the institute's outer perimeter. Fist-sized mutant flies buzzed around the sharpened tips of the stakes, while rats hiding in the corners gnawed at discarded scraps of food, occasionally glancing up toward the walls. Even marauders would never make their lair so filthy, letting themselves be enveloped by pestilence and rot. The creatures living here were clearly not humans, but something else... "Mutants." With his eyes closed tight, Kuang Feng suddenly popped out the word. The quadcopter drone he operated via neural interface had already flown above the institute, synchronizing aerial footage to the VMs of every squad member nearby. On the roof of the institute, two calf-sized, dark-green mutants stood by the parapet. Beside them sat a flaming metal drum. Clutching meat from the leg of an unknown animal in their hands, they gorged themselves while conversing in heavy, guttural voices. That savage feast looked just like greenskin orcs from Warhammer. Everything here was identical to the mutant tribes the players had encountered in earlier versions of the game. The difference was that while mutants were still mutants, the players standing here were no longer the rookies of back then. "Mutants. Nothing more to say, then," Ye Shi said with a grin, chambering an anti-materiel armor-piercing incendiary round into his sniper rifle. "Let's just wipe them out." If it were a survivor settlement, they would have had to identify who they were and decide whether to negotiate or expel them. For mutants, no such considerations existed. Sending these beasts to hell was their only job. Lao Bai looked at Kuang Feng with a serious expression. "Numbers, positions." "Two on the roof, one at the western wall corner, two in the northern garage, one standing beside the fuel drum, three by the second-floor windows... That's all I can see." His consciousness merged with the drone, Kuang Feng called out the coordinates calmly, marking targets on the VM map with red dots. Having confirmed enemy intel, Lao Bai gave a clean, decisive hand signal. Receiving the order, the players following behind him split into three fireteams immediately. One team, led by Ye Shi, moved to the elevated slope west of the institute; another shifted to the left of the institute's front gate; while the remainder, led personally by Lao Bai, pushed toward the main entrance. Mutants possessed sharp vision, and their beastly instincts soon detected abnormalities in the dark. However, by the time they realized disaster was upon them, it was already too late. "Fire!" With Lao Bai's command, a series of booming blasts erupted from the western side of the institute. Six "Heavy Lances" spat tongues of flame simultaneously. Six thick tracers shot toward the institute's top floor like lightning, utterly tearing apart the night's silence. Against 37mm armor-piercing incendiary rounds, the mutants' sturdy bodies crumpled like paper. They were either pierced clean through on the spot or had projectiles lodged in their flesh. Blazing magnesium-aluminum alloy spewed sparks, charring flesh and bone to cinders. Mutants rolling across the ground shrieked wildly, dark-green faces contorted in agony. Without a shred of mercy or hesitation, Lao Bai led his fireteam charging into the institute. Assault rifles rattled and spat tongues of flame, riddling any mutants attempting to charge them into sieves. After breaching the first defensive line, the players waiting on the left side of the entrance surged in right behind them, executing a flanking maneuver straight to the rear of the institute, clearing every inch between the outer wall and the main building. From the west, cannon-like cracks echoed periodically, tearing mutants attempting to return fire near the windows to shreds with large-caliber armor-piercing incendiary shells. The battle held no suspense, quickly turning into a one-sided massacre. Though possessed of formidable physical resilience along with passable pipe rifles and axes, these mutants were plainly no match for battle-hardened veterans. In less than twenty minutes, the elites of the Burning Corps cleared out all the mutants in the entire institute and rescued over a dozen captives locked in the basement who had not yet been eaten. These people included men and women, the oldest in their thirties and the youngest barely ten or so. Judging by their clothes, some appeared to be itinerant merchants, while others looked like villagers from nearby settlements. When first rescued, they were huddled in room corners, not a single spark of light in their vacant eyes. Though alive, they were scarcely different from corpses. Only when their shackles were removed did a faint glimmer of life return to those lifeless eyes. "...It's all over. We've cleared out the mutants here. You're safe now." "Thank you... thank you!" A survivor who had just scrambled up from the ground began wobbling, about to kneel down, but Lao Bai caught him by the arm. "No need to thank us. We're soldiers of the Alliance. If you have nowhere else to go, head due east. Once you reach the northern outskirts of Qingquan City, the people there will take you in." His Human Alliance language was somewhat rough. However, he had memorized this line thoroughly. "Alliance..." The survivor wore a bewildered expression, but he chewed on the word repeatedly, as if trying to etch it into memory. "That's right," Lao Bai continued, offering an encouraging smile. "We're trying to build a different kind of society over there. If you're sick of life in the wasteland, you can give it a shot." After seeing the group of survivors out the door, he returned to the institute. Scrambled Eggs with Tomatoes looked at him and teased with a grin. "Not bad, Alliance's Number One Ambassador." Lao Bai chuckled. "You don't get it. It's called farming karma." The Administrator was always watching his residents. Loyal deeds could increase equipment drop rates and trigger hidden quests. Although there was no conclusive proof for this rumor, believing it a little hurt nothing. Many residents of the Alliance had received their kindness, and those people viewed them as heroes. The NPCs in this game were quite different from other open-world games. Even without saving the world, performing just a small good deed would be remembered by NPCs for a long time. Those people were genuinely grateful. Jieyan asked curiously, "By the way, how far are you from 100,000 contribution points?" Lao Bai: "Once this mission is done, it should be about enough." "Awesome!" Ye Shi gave a thumbs-up, remarking with admiration, "We all do the same missions, so how come your contribution points climb so fast?" Lao Bai smiled modestly. "Probably just a little bit adding up over time." Scrambled Eggs with Tomatoes: "Good brother, once you get the power armor, let me touch it, heh." "Sure. Do you want me to take it off for you to touch, or touch it while I'm wearing it?" Jieyan stared at Lao Bai in shock, looking as if he had discovered a new continent. "Holy crap, since when did you get as vulgar as Ye Shi!" "Damn it, I'm catching strays just lying down," Ye Shi rolled his eyes and urged, "Stop blabbering and hurry up with the mission." They hadn't parachuted all the way here just to go sightseeing. The group split up. One squad went to the institute's laser transmission unit to pry open the rusted launch hatch. The other went to the control room on the third floor. Fortunately, the backup generator here still had surplus power, sparing them from having to prepare a generator to charge the laser transmission unit's capacitors. Stepping up to the console, Lao Bai opened his VM screen and checked the current quest. [Quest: Orbital Drift Bottle] [Description: Our war with the Legion has reached a stalemate. Although we successfully tricked them into believing they are fighting the Enterprise, it is difficult to say how long this diversion will last. We need support from the east coast, and first we must let them know their old friends are in trouble. Desperate times call for desperate measures; we must dismantle a satellite.] [Requirement: Activate the institute's laser transmission unit, establish contact with the research satellite in geostationary orbit directly above, and complete the data transfer.] The method to activate the laser transmission unit was already listed at the bottom of the quest log. They only needed to plug the data interface into the console and deploy a communication balloon. The rest could be left to the shelter NPCs to operate remotely. Watching Lao Bai plug the data interface into the console, Ye Shi asked curiously from the side. "Are we using a satellite as a message in a bottle?" That was way too extravagant. Kuang Feng stared at the console screen for a moment, then spoke up suddenly. "Actually, I'm more curious about how they're contacting a satellite in geostationary orbit using a laser from down here." This black technology was a bit absurd. Then again, compared to controllable nuclear fusion, it didn't seem entirely unacceptable. Lao Bai didn't overthink it, laughing aloud. "Who cares? Who knows what happens over a century from now? You can't expect Brother Guang to make one for you in reality, can you?" Kuang Feng's expression turned subtle. A 99.99...% realistic virtual reality game versus laser communication technology spanning thirty-six thousand kilometers—it really was hard to say which was tougher to achieve. The progress bar on the console screen finished loading. The transmission unit in the center of the institute suddenly shot out an arm-thick beam of light. It was hard to describe what color that light was; its hue was as elusive as its existence, fading in and out between faint crimson and pale purple outlines. The beam pierced through the clouds and plunged into infinite deep space. Moving up to the roof of the institute, Kuang Feng looked up at the flickering glow in the sky and muttered. "...If I were with the Legion, I'd definitely fire an artillery shell right at this spot." Lao Bai laughed. "What are you dreaming about? We're over two hundred kilometers from that airship. What shell can reach that far?" Two hundred kilometers. That would require a tactical missile. He had heard Goblin Technology was researching short-range missiles, though who knew how that was going. Not a single word out of Mosquito's mouth was reliable; no matter how many times you asked, it was always 'soon, soon.' Although necessity forced their hand, truth be told, the New Alliance's tech tree was quite crooked. "...Fair point." Kuang Feng nodded thoughtfully, gazing at the beam of light while his mind drifted to other matters. Due to the Tyndall effect, that light was visible from far away. Had it been like this two hundred years ago too? Or had years of neglect caused unstable output power, resulting in such noticeable scattering and noise? Then again, only people from two hundred years ago would know what it was like back then... "Signal transmission complete... Confirmed, the satellite is deorbiting." Verifying the quest progress on his VM, Lao Bai pressed his earpiece and relayed the order to his squad members. Ye Shi asked curiously, "Will we see a shooting star in a bit?" "Maybe they'll see it on the east coast, but it's probably out of reach for us..." Lao Bai chuckled, picking up his rifle leaning against the wall and clapping his teammate on the shoulder. "Mission complete. Let's pull out." He heard the scientific expedition had retrieved quite a few interesting things from the recovered data. He'd ask around when they got back. ... At the same time, aboard the *Iron Heart*. Standing inside the bridge, General Macklen listened to his subordinates' reports. The prey he had been obsessing over was still dodging and hiding throughout Ruigu City's urban districts. Fortunately, his clumsy subordinates had finally made a sliver of progress. With the help of an experienced local hunter, they had successfully hooked two iron chains onto that deathclaw. Naturally, this was nowhere near enough to wound the beast, but it sufficed to cause it plenty of trouble. According to the hunter, the chains would act like harpoons stuck in a whale. The beast's claws were too long to remove them itself. As long as enough junk was tangled around it to restrict its movement, prevent it from catching prey, and wear it down, sooner or later it would collapse to the ground exhausted, at their mercy. Wearing down a far stronger opponent through continuous attacks, then concentrating strength for a single lethal blow. This principle seemed applicable not only to hunting, but to the battlefield as well. General Macklen suddenly felt a trace of curiosity about that native hunter. Just then, a faint crimson glow vaguely filtered through the floor-to-ceiling window straight ahead. His peripheral vision caught that hint of anomaly, and General Macklen narrowed his eyes. Yet when he peered closely, outside was pitch-black; nothing was visible. "Did you see that light?" Hearing General Macklen's voice, the adjutant standing beside him blinked, his face blank. "Light...?" Glancing at the bewildered look on his adjutant's face, General Macklen withdrew his gaze. "...Never mind." Perhaps it was an illusion. For some reason, he had a bad premonition in his gut. As if somewhere beyond the reach of his sight, a conspiracy was quietly brewing...