240: Reciprocity and the "Luxury Bait" Plan

"You mean, we're going to build a fake 'us,' let it go to its death, and then we sneak in for real?" Su Mu repeated Excellence's plan in the most straightforward terms, her eyebrows arching until they nearly flew into her hairline.

Excellence was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the main control room—this was his thinking posture—surrounded by a dozen light screens displaying various data. He was using energy to outline some sort of three-dimensional path map in the air, and didn't even look up at the remark: "It's not going to its death, it's executing a 'high-profile bait mission.' And it's not a fake 'us,' it's a 'super us' that looks even more real than the real thing."

Evelyn's projection squatted (if a projection could squat) opposite him, her fingers (also made of light and shadow) moving rapidly in the void, performing synchronized calculations. "The logic chain is basically sound. Entropy's Perception system is based on information recognition and threat priority determination. If we can create a projection that fully simulates a 'high-value target' on an informational level, and set its behavioral pattern to match Entropy's expectations—that is, reckless, direct, and eager to repair The Weave—then the probability of it being judged as the primary threat is as high as 87.3%."

Su Mu also squatted down, the metal soles of her military boots clicking lightly against the floor. "But that's 'Entropy.' The space-time mirages captured by the scout planes before show that it can refract and even pre-simulate possibilities. Can a fake projection really fool something like that?"

Excellence finally stopped his energy sketching and looked up. High-intensity mental work for several consecutive days had left dark circles under his eyes, but his eyes were startlingly bright, like two clusters of fire sealed within polished obsidian. "Illusions alone won't work, of course. But we're going to add some 'ingredients' to it."

He waved his hand, and the light screen in front of him reorganized, displaying several key data modules. "First, identity verification." He clicked on the first module, inside which flowed golden code so complex it was dizzying. "This is the 'The Weave' identification code with the highest authority obtained from beacon zeta. Theoretically, this is the only key to entering and operating the core control Node. We are going to fully encode this into the projection's energy signature, making it radiate the aura of 'I am a VIP pass' from the inside out."

"Next, personal scent." The second module opened, displaying a set of constantly fluctuating energy frequency spectra. These were the records of Excellence's own energy characteristics, detailed down to the micro-energy ripples caused by every breath and every heartbeat. "Entropy craves me, or rather, it craves the power of the beacon gathered within me. So this projection must 'smell' like me—not a static likeness, but a dynamic, vivid one. Evelyn has recorded my energy characteristics in all states over the past three months, and we can synthesize an energy emission pattern for an 'Excellence simulated personality'."

He paused and opened the third, and smallest, module. Inside was sealed a thread of extremely faint, dark red substance, solidified in a transparent energy field, like the limbs of a poisonous insect trapped in amber.

"Finally, the 'bait' for the bait." Excellence's voice lowered slightly. "Remember the Entropy Tentacle sample we captured? Evelyn attempted a 'reverse contamination' on it using Order energy in an absolutely isolated environment, forcibly injecting a bit of ordered structure. The result was very strange—this thing became... a bit like a 'Traitor.' It still radiates the aura of Entropy, but internally it has an extremely weak tendency toward Order."

Su Mu stared at that thread of dark red: "You want to put this into the projection too?"

"Not put it in, but make it the projection's 'wound'." Excellence's mouth curved into a sharp arc. "Imagine this: an Excellence carrying all the beacon keys, charging recklessly, and getting hit by an Entropy Tentacle during the voyage, suffering an injury where the power of Entropy even remains in the wound—but that power is being slowly transformed by Order. To Entropy, what is this?"

Evelyn took over: "It is a hybrid of a top-priority 'elimination target' and a 'research subject.' The former stems from threat, and the latter stems from... confusion. Entropy cannot understand 'Entropy that has been ordered,' which touches upon the underlying contradiction of its cognition. According to calculations, the attractiveness of this mixed bait is 19% higher than that of a simple high-value target."

Su Mu hugged her knees, silently digesting this information. In the main control room, there was only the faint hum of instruments running and the slight crackling of energy flowing through Excellence's fingertips. Outside the window, the Singularity Corridor rotated slowly, like the maw of a giant beast waiting for its prey to step inside.

"So," she finally spoke, her voice very soft, "we are going to build a perfect fake, let it go and act as the most arrogant, most delicious, and most confusing 'mantis' for the enemy. And then we, the real 'orioles,' will fly past quietly."

"Fly past, straight to the core." Excellence nodded, and the energy path map in his hands was finally completed. It was a line so thin it was almost invisible, twisting and winding along the edge of the corridor. "Cutting in from the Delta-7 area. The space-time turbulence there is the most violent, and the activity frequency of Entropy Tentacles is actually the lowest—perhaps because the environment there is too unstable, even they feel 'uncomfortable.' Our 'Order stealth' mode, which combines the energy coordination technology of the zeta beacon and the cloaking algorithm of the Delta Beacon, can theoretically allow the Ark to temporarily 'synchronize' with the background space-time fluctuations, just like a drop of water hiding in the ocean."

Evelyn added: "But the duration is limited. The stealth field requires huge energy consumption and cannot completely shield life signs and thought activities. We must complete the infiltration, positioning, and arrival at the core area within the limited window while the bait is attracting attention. Any delay, or if the bait is seen through too early..."

"We will be exposed in the center of the corridor, surrounded by all the Entropy Tentacles and spatial traps." Su Mu stated the worst-case scenario, "That's no different from driving the ship straight in and self-destructing."

"The difference is," Excellence stood up and patted the non-existent dust off his pants, "self-destruction is 100% finished. This plan, Evelyn, what is the latest simulated success rate?"

"Integrating all variables, and calculating your 'intuition correction factor' as well," data streams flashed in Evelyn's eyes, "the probability of successfully infiltrating the core area: 31.7%. Significantly higher than the 0.3% of a frontal assault, and also higher than the probability of being discovered if we continue to stay here—according to the Entropy force field diffusion model, there is a 68% probability that our location will be detected after seventy-two hours."

"Thirty percent chance," Su Mu also stood up, her military boots stepping firmly on the ground, "enough to take a gamble."

Excellence smiled, that smile containing the sharpness of a young man and a decisiveness beyond his years: "Then it's settled. Code name for the plan..."

"How about 'Luxury Bait'?" A voice came from the doorway. Captain Li Wei stood there, holding a tray with three steaming drinks on it, "Sounds ironic enough, and descriptive enough."

Excellence took one, it was the "Serene Tea" specially made by Chen Yu—blended with improved mint and chamomile, which had a calming effect. "Good name. Arrogant enough, fits the temperament of the bait."

After the plan was confirmed, the Ark entered the most tense and peculiar preparation stage before the battle.

The ship-wide announcement only mentioned "executing a special operation infiltration plan," and the details were kept to a minimum, but the tension permeated every corridor like an invisible fog. The crew walked faster, spoke more concisely, and nodded to each other when their eyes met, carrying a tacit solemnity. The plants in the Ecological Garden seemed to sense the atmosphere as well; the fluorescence of the starlight lettuce shone more steadily in the artificial night, as if silently providing a negligible light source.

The real core work was concentrated in the main control room. This became the "studio" for "Luxury Bait," and Excellence was the director, chief special effects artist, and the protagonist—or rather, the manufacturer of the replica.

"Adjust the energy output again, the shield radiance of the bait Ark must be strong, but not the kind of unbreakable strong." Excellence floated in front of the main control console, his hands cupped, and a mass of highly condensed energy was taking shape between his palms, gradually revealing the general outline of the spaceship. He did not use any external equipment, purely using himself as a medium, calling on the power of the beacon to "hand-craft" it. "It needs to feel a bit... strong on the outside but weak on the inside. Like a person holding their breath, but sweating on their forehead. Entropy should be able to 'smell' this subtle lack of strength."

Dozens of Evelyn's sub-projections surrounded him, each processing different data streams: engine simulation, signal characteristics, mass projection, thermal radiation camouflage... "Shield energy fluctuation pattern adjusted, adding 0.7% periodic decay disturbance to simulate the decrease in energy reserves after long-term navigation."

Su Mu leaned against the wall nearby, arms crossed, chewing on an unlit energy bar (smoking was banned on the ship, this was her substitute habit). Her role in the "director team" was "authenticity inspector," responsible for nitpicking with a combatant's intuition. "What about the engine exhaust? It's too regular. When the real Ark accelerates in an emergency, the ion flow will have a 0.03-second discontinuity in the spray due to engine aging. Although our engineers maintain it regularly, micro-wear cannot be completely avoided."

Excellence nodded, his fingers flicking slightly, and in that energy model, the light of the tail thrusters immediately developed a faint, almost imperceptible, periodic "tremor." "Good detail. Any more?"

"Yes." Su Mu walked a few steps closer, pointing to the middle of the ship's hull, "Here, the location of the third sensor array. It suffered an energy impact there during the last Carter rebellion. Although it was repaired, the molecular structure of the hull coating has extremely weak residual stress, which will reflect an almost invisible spot of light at specific angles of starlight. If our scout planes can capture it, Entropy's eyes might be able to see it too."

Evelyn immediately pulled up the maintenance records and material scan data from that time. "Confirmed. Encoding the defect characteristics into the projection material reflection model."

Just like that, every detail of the bait was repeatedly polished, nitpicked, and perfected. It was not a simple holographic image, but a "physical phantom" woven from pure energy, carrying a massive amount of real information, and even possessing a "pseudo-history" and "pseudo-wear." Excellence's "hand-crafted" process left the onlookers and technicians amazed—he seemed not to be making a tool, but performing a precise artistic creation, using energy as a chisel and the void as a canvas.

The most complex part was the creation of the "Excellence projection."

"The behavioral logic must highly simulate you," Evelyn pulled up the bridge command footage of Excellence from the past few months, analyzing his expressions, gestures, speaking speed, and even tiny habitual actions under pressure (such as unconsciously turning a ring that didn't exist on his left ring finger when thinking—that was a habit left by his mother), "but it cannot be completely identical. The 'you' of the bait should be more... impatient, more desperate. After all, according to the script, he is a 'desperate hero' carrying all the keys and eager to save the world."

Excellence looked at himself in the recording, feeling a bit strange. "Then add some emotions that I usually suppress but might show when under extreme pressure. Frown more tightly, increase the speaking speed by 5% when giving Orders, and when no one is watching (although the bait might be monitored by Entropy the whole time), subconsciously bite the inside of my cheek—this was a habit I had when I was nervous as a child. I broke it later, but it might recur under extreme stress."

Su Mu recorded from the side: "There also needs to be a 'trace of performance.' He is going as bait, and subconsciously knows he might be seen through, so occasionally there will be a 'slight overacting' flaw, like activating the shields a fraction of a second earlier than necessary, appearing a bit neurotic. This kind of flaw must be carefully designed so it looks like a mistake caused by tension and pressure, rather than evidence that 'this is a fake.'"

After dozens of hours of sleepless polishing, the script for the "luxury bait" and the "actor" were finally ready. Its plot was simple: A battered but determined Ark, led by a young captain, carrying the last hope (the beacon key), with a near-suicidal ferocity, thrusts directly into the weakest area (as they hypothesized) of the Singularity Corridor, attempting to force its way into the core.

Meanwhile, the real Ark would become the quietest shadow in the universe.

Six hours before deployment.

The real Ark began to "remove its makeup." All non-essential energy emissions were reduced to a minimum, weapon systems were taken offline, external lights were extinguished, and even the life support system in the Ecological Garden was switched to a low-power dormant mode. The crew entered a state of silence, secured themselves in designated positions, and communications switched to the lowest frequency bone-conduction micro-vibrations. On the ship's hull, Evelyn activated the latest "Order Camouflage"—not invisibility, but allowing the hull to temporarily "harmonize" with the surrounding chaotic spacetime background at an energy level, like a drop of ink blending into a larger ink pool.

Captain Li Wei sat in the auxiliary command seat, closing his eyes to rest. His experience told him that there was no room for his interference in the upcoming operation; this was the battlefield of Excellence, Su Mu, and Evelyn's generation. All he could do was maintain absolute silence and trust.

Su Mu completed the final safety inspection. She walked through every main corridor, checked every anchor point, and exchanged silent glances and nods with the personnel in charge of each sector. When she returned to the bridge, she saw Excellence standing in front of the observation window, holding the star map pendant in his hand, gently stroking it.

"Nervous?" She walked to his side, her voice lowered.

"A little." Excellence said honestly, his gaze still fixed on the swirling darkness outside the window. "Afraid of not being able to fool it, afraid of the stealth failing, afraid that everyone..." He didn't finish.

"Being afraid is useless." Su Mu took a rice ball wrapped in starlight lettuce leaves from her pocket—inside was moonlight rice and a filling made of a little serene cucumber. "Sister Chen asked me to bring this to you. Eat it, and you'll have the strength to act and run."

Excellence took it and took a bite. The fragrance of the rice and the slight bitterness of the cucumber melted in his mouth, carrying a hint of reassuring plant scent. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me." Su Mu also looked out the window, her profile appearing sharp in the dim light of the console. "Wait until you bring us all out safely, then you can thank me."

The countdown hit zero.

"Projection ready." Excellence swallowed the last bite of the rice ball and walked to the main control station. Su Mu sat back at the safety console, and Evelyn's projection materialized in the center.

"Energy circuits are stable, Creation Engine output is at 87%, within the safety threshold." Evelyn reported.

"Behavioral logic chain loaded, stress response model ready."

"Bait special 'ingredients'—The Weave encoding, energy signature, and Order-aligned Entropy Tentacle samples—have been injected into the core."

Excellence took a deep breath and pressed his hands onto the main console. The power of the seven beacons resonated within him, using his body as an amplifier and modulator, flowing toward the projection array at the front of the ship.

"Then," he said softly, as if opening the curtain for a grand performance, "let the show begin."

At the front of the Ark, space rippled. Not like water waves, but like the fluctuations of hot air distorting a scene. From the center of the fluctuation, a point of light was born, rapidly expanding, stretching, and taking shape.

First appeared the bow, then the slender hull, the massive engine array, and the details filled in rapidly: portholes, sensors, turrets, and even the "forged" scratches and repair marks on the hull. Within seconds, another "Ark" appeared in the vacuum.

It was almost identical to the real Ark, except... it was "newer," the glow of its shields was "brighter," and its engine exhaust was "fiercer." It hovered silently for a few seconds, then, following the pre-set script, began to move.

The hull adjusted its angle, and the main thrusters suddenly spewed out a thicker ion stream than normal, appearing unusually hurried. It did not hesitate, did not scout, and with a near-reckless posture, charged straight toward an area at the edge of the Singularity Corridor that looked relatively "calm." That was exactly the "weak point" that the reconnaissance aircraft had previously hypothesized to exist.

On the bridge, through the remote surveillance screen, everyone could see "Bait Excellence" standing in front of the command seat of that ship, body leaning forward, hands supporting the console, lips moving rapidly (simulating the issuance of Orders), with eyes (finely simulated via energy) mixed with determination, anxiety, and a trace of imperceptible... performance.

The real Excellence watched that "self," feeling very strange. It was like watching a more impulsive, more desperate, but also more "dramatic" parallel universe version of himself.

"The bait has entered the gravitational influence range of the corridor." Evelyn reported, "Spacetime disturbance detected increasing. The Entropy force field is reacting... something has noticed it."

As expected, the bait's arrogant entrance immediately drew a reaction.

At the edge of the corridor, several previously "calm" dark areas suddenly began to squirm, dark red veins lit up, and several Entropy Tentacles snaked out from the void, like deep-sea monsters attracted by the smell of blood. They did not attack immediately, seemingly "observing," with their tentacle tips swaying slightly, scanning this uninvited guest.

The "reaction" of the bait Ark to this was perfect: the brightness of the shields suddenly increased, it took a defensive posture, while its flight speed increased rather than decreased, and it even performed two small-scale, seemingly panicked evasive maneuvers, as if dodging attacks that didn't exist—this simulated the misjudgments that a pilot might make under high tension.

"It is 'testing'." Su Mu stared at the screen, her voice tight, "Seeing our reaction, evaluating the threat level."

Immediately after, the bait did something extremely "Excellence-style" but amplified: one of the secondary cannons on the bow (calculated so that the energy signature of this shot would carry a large amount of "The Weave encoding" information) suddenly fired, shooting at the nearest Entropy Tentacle! The energy beam was deflected and dissipated by the chaotic field surrounding the tentacle before it hit, but the pure Order energy signature that erupted in that instant was like a torch lit in the darkness.

The darkness deep in the corridor suddenly boiled.

It wasn't a visual boiling, but a perceptual one. A cold, immense, and greedy "attention," like an invisible tide, surged from the very center of the corridor, instantly locking onto the small ship that dared to fire. More Entropy Tentacles emerged from all directions, their dark red veins almost weaving into a large net. Space itself began to distort, and traps quietly opened on the bait's flight path.

"It took the bait." Evelyn's voice carried a hint of relief, "At least 73% of Entropy's core consciousness's computing power has been attracted by the bait. The activity pattern of the external Entropy Tentacles has changed, shifting from patrol to encirclement. A short window of calm has appeared in the spacetime turbulence of the Delta-7 region—this is the moment for stealth!"

"Ark, initiate 'Order Stealth'!" Excellence ordered without hesitation, "Minimum engine power, heading for Delta-7, maintain absolute silence throughout the ship!"

The real Ark, that gray ship that had almost merged with the background, began to move. It had no dazzling exhaust, no energy fluctuations, and not even the slight ripples usually caused in space during flight. It was like a massless shadow, or an optical illusion that should have been there, sliding silently into the depths of the darkness along that carefully calculated, slender path that hugged the lethal edge of the corridor.

Inside the bridge, no one spoke, and even breathing was deliberately softened. Everyone was watching the two main screens: on the left, the "luxury bait" was performing a desperate struggle for survival, being chased and attacked by more and more Entropy Tentacles, its shields flickering violently, making all kinds of thrilling evasive maneuvers, and occasionally "heroically" firing back a few shots, continuously amplifying the message of "I am an important target, I am fighting for my life"; on the right, the surveillance footage outside the real Ark—a piece of distorted, chaotic, and deadly trap-filled starry sky, where their ship was moving at a snail's relative speed, carefully traversing through it, avoiding the spacetime rifts and gravitational vortices that were invisible to the naked eye but caused the sensors to alarm frantically.

This was a silent gamble. Gambling that the bait was realistic enough to attract attention long enough; gambling that the stealth was perfect enough to seize that fleeting window; gambling that fate would favor the fools who dared to walk on the edge of the abyss.

Excellence's gaze switched between the two screens. He watched that "self" "struggling" in a desperate situation, and watched his real self leading everyone sliding into the unknown darkness. Sweat soaked his back, not because of energy consumption, but because of the immense psychological pressure.

Su Mu's hand was on the trigger button of the emergency weapon system—although she knew that opening fire meant exposure and death, this was her final duty as the security chief. Evelyn's projection flickered slightly, putting almost all of her computing power into the real-time correction of the stealth path and the fine-tuning of the bait's status.

Time passed minute by minute. The bait was already battered (simulated), its shields teetering on the verge of collapse, but it was still persisting, still "struggling" toward the depths. The real Ark, like a dancer walking on a blade, every evasion was thrilling, and every weak pulse of the engine tugged at everyone's heart.

Would they succeed? Would that "mantis" attracted by the bait suddenly turn around and discover that there was a real "oriole" behind it?

The answer lay in the increasingly dense darkness ahead.