108: Chapter 107 Old Letters, The Price of Rift and Acceleration

The 8th day after the verdict, beneath Mount Tai, green soil core area.

Letter.

Elena never imagined that she would touch a tangible letter deep inside a facility from five hundred thousand years ago. It was not paper or crystal, but encapsulated within a translucent plant stem—a 'memory fern' unique to the green soil ecosystem. Its vascular tissue could store information biochemically and release it under specific light frequencies.

The stem lay on a stone pedestal in the core area of the ecosystem, surrounded by withered giant flower fossils that had ceased to glow. A line of sower script was carved into the surface of the pedestal. Elena softly read the translation: [To the future recipient: If you find this, it means green soil is gone, and my premonition has come true. The attached information must be triggered by the 'ecological resonance frequency,' which is encoded in the basic environmental parameters of this ecosystem. Please use it wisely.]

The signature was a simple symbol: a leaf pierced by a sharp blade.

'It's similar to the symbol of the Blade civilization, but older,' Elena recorded the details of the symbol with a scanner. 'The leaf shape is a native plant from the sower home planet, symbolizing

cultivation

. The blade piercing it... could it mean

defending the concept of cultivation with force

? Or, a darker interpretation—

wielding a blade for the sake of cultivation

?'

She carefully placed the memory fern stem into an isolation box. The environmental parameters inside the box began to adjust automatically, simulating the basic lighting, humidity, and air composition of the green soil ecosystem. Three minutes later, a subtle vein of light appeared on the surface of the stem.

The information began to release.

It was not a data stream, but an immersive memory scene projected directly onto her retina.

Elena 'stood' under an unfamiliar starry sky. A binary star system rotated slowly at the zenith, casting light interwoven with blue-purple and orange-red. Beneath her feet was soft, glowing grass, and in the distance were elegant silver buildings that blended perfectly with the natural environment. This was a corner of the Sower Civilization's home planet, at a time... before the civil war broke out.

Two figures sat on the grass. One had a slender build with skin resembling plant stems—a typical sower appearance. The other made Elena hold her breath—the humanoid creature wore a simple gray uniform, standing as straight as a sword, with a face blurred by soft light and shadow, but hanging at its waist was a clear accessory: a badge of a leaf pierced by a sharp blade.

'So you are really going to leave, Alpha?' the sower's voice was gentle and sad.

The figure in gray, known as Alpha, nodded, its voice as cold as clashing metal: 'The Council has voted, Talos. Most members believe the

observe and sow

path is too slow, too... passive. The speed at which darkness grows in the universe far exceeds our speed of cultivating light. The new consensus is: actively pruning threats is the only way to make room for good seeds.'

'Pruning...' Talos—evidently a sower—gave a bitter smile. 'Such a pleasant word. But who defines

threat

? Who decides which civilizations should be

pruned

? Alpha, once you pick up the shears, you can never truly put them down. You will start to see all uneven branches as threats.'

'That is why we need clear guidelines and strict supervision,' Alpha said. 'The

Blade

will establish an executive branch independent of the Council. We are only responsible to the supreme guidelines, and we only prune

plague civilizations

that have been proven to infect and devour other civilizations. This does not conflict with your sowing, Talos. We clear the soil, and you sow the seeds.'

'The conflict is in the philosophy!' Talos's voice raised. 'We believe that every civilization has potential and needs time and space to learn from mistakes and grow! And you believe that some mistakes are irreversible once they begin and must be excised before they spread! Alpha, we were classmates, studying the miracle of life being born in nebulae together. And now you are going to lead a group of

Gardeners

to burn down gardens that have yet to bloom?'

Alpha remained silent for a long time. The light of the binary stars moved across its gray uniform.

'I have seen the data, Talos,' it finally spoke, its voice lower. 'In the past three hundred thousand years, at least fourteen civilizations that we assessed as having

benign potential

after crossing the Level 1 threshold, turned to paths of extreme expansion and slavery. They devoured their neighbors, twisted their own souls, and eventually became monsters more terrifying than natural threats. And our

observe and wait

in six of those cases, proved to be indulgence.'

'What about the other eight?' Talos pressed. 'What about those that self-destructed or successfully ascended before you intervened? We will never know if they might have had a better ending if they hadn't been marked by us, or secretly influenced by the

Blade

. Alpha, you are using statistical probability to decide the fate of billions of lives!'

'Someone has to make the decision.' Alpha stood up, the blade emblem gleaming coldly under the starlight. 'Someone has to hold the sword in the shadows when the light of idealism cannot illuminate every corner. Talos, I still believe in the ideal of sowing. That is why I must ensure that the soil you sow in... is not poisoned first.'

It turned and stopped, without looking back.

'green soil is your life's work, and it is one of my favorite projects. It proves that life can find a way in the harshest conditions. I leave this letter here because if my path eventually leads to an extreme... if the

Blade

one day forgets its original intention and becomes the monster we intended to stop...'

It turned its face to the side, and in the light and shadow, Elena seemed to see a faint, bitter smile at the corner of its mouth.

'...then, perhaps some latecomer who finds this place can use this letter to remind them, or... stop them. Take care, old friend.'

The gray figure merged into the starlight and disappeared.

Talos sat alone on the grass for a long time, then pressed its hand to the ground. The grass glowed faintly, as if comforting it. The scene faded out.

The glow of the memory fern stem extinguished, completely withered into ash.

Elena stood before the stone pedestal, speechless for a long time. The amount of information was overwhelming.

The 'Blade' civilization—or rather, the executive branch 'Blade'—was not an external enemy or a latecomer to the Sower Civilization. They were an 'armed faction' born from a philosophical split within the Sower Civilization! Alpha was likely one of the founders of the 'Blade,' and it and Talos, the creator of green soil, were close friends.

This letter, was it a warning left by Alpha for future 'Blade' members? Or a weapon left for 'latecomers' like humanity?

More importantly, 'Talos' mentioned in the letter 'if the

Blade

one day becomes the monster we intended to stop'—this almost predicted the birth of the 'Order Reconstruction Faction' (Pruning Faction)! Could the 'Pruning Faction' be the product of the 'Blade' civilization's philosophy becoming extreme and out of control?

She immediately sent the discovery and preliminary analysis to Lin Shen and Chu Yunshen. Almost simultaneously, the emergency meeting summons from Bedrock Base arrived.

At the same time, on the east coast of the Dragon Kingdom, in the New Shanghai Special Economic Zone.

The pearly white figure of Liaison Coordinator appeared on the bustling street. It did not disguise itself; its peculiar appearance and emotionless demeanor drew side-glances and whispers from a small circle, but it was soon submerged in the crowd. New Shanghai was one of the global 'pilot zones for the civilian conversion of heritage technology,' where one could see how cutting-edge technology attempted to integrate into the lives of ordinary people.

It walked into a 'neural interface cafe.' Customers wore lightweight headbands, sipping coffee while browsing information, playing immersive games, or engaging in virtual social interaction through brain-computer interfaces. The screens on the wall scrolled advertisements: 'Powered by

Cradle

basic algorithms—boost your thinking efficiency by 300%!' 'Rare elements purified from lunar soil, creating the strongest personal health monitoring bracelet!'

Liaison Coordinator sat down at a window seat, its black crystal eyes scanning. Its consciousness spread silently, like a stone thrown into a pond, capturing the ripples of surface emotions from the crowd around it.

Two young people at the next table were discussing excitedly: 'Did you hear? Deep Space Technology is hiring the first batch of space elevator maintenance apprentices! You don't need a PhD; just pass the neural adaptability test and three months of training! The registration channel opens tonight, and I've set my alarm!'

'My parents want me to apply to the Traditional Materials Academy,' the other said, looking a bit dejected. 'They say those legacy technologies are too profound and unstable, and it's better to learn something practical.'

'Old-fashioned thinking! Didn't you read the announcement? The Council has given us three years! If we don't pass the review in three years, or if we can't stop the Pruning Faction, what traditional industries will be left? This is a chance to overtake on a curve!'

Excitement, anxiety, a yearning for opportunity, fear of uncertainty. Liaison Coordinator recorded it all.

On the other side, a middle-aged woman was on the phone with a friend, her voice trembling with emotion: '...Yes, my son has been selected for the preliminary screening of the Mind Acceleration project. They say he can learn ten years' worth of knowledge in advance. But I'm scared... that's pouring things directly into the brain, could something go wrong? Plus, the agreement I signed says there are unknown risks... We're an ordinary family; we can't afford to lose.'

Worry, an intuitive fear of technical risks, and the unease brought about by class differences.

The television screen in the cafe was playing the news, covering Consultant Chu's public briefing on the Civilization Leap Roadmap. The host asked: 'Consultant Chu, the roadmap emphasizes equitable benefit, but how can you ensure that cutting-edge technology will not be concentrated in the hands of a few countries, a few companies, or even a few individuals? How can ordinary people believe they won't be left behind in the new era?'

Consultant Chu's reply was rigorous and reassuring: 'We will establish a Technology Dividend Feedback Mechanism, with a global patent pool, targeted tax subsidies, and universal education programs...'

Liaison Coordinator's gaze drifted away from the screen. His 'listening' captured more unspoken emotions:

— In the corner, a man who looked like a programmer was staring at his recently obsolete old-style computer with dull eyes: 'After twenty years of learning code logic, it's not even worth one of their legacy algorithm packages... Are we Old Humans meant to be eliminated?'

— Outside the window, a parade passed by, holding signs: 'Technology leaps must be transparent!' 'Refuse the black box! We want the right to know!' 'The Dragon Kingdom cannot monopolize the future!'

— On a deeper level, a spreading, obscure sense of powerlessness: when the speed of change far exceeds the speed of comprehension, and when fate is swayed by the Council in the distant starry sky and the mysterious legacy underground, individual efforts and choices seem to lose their weight.

The social structure was like a piece of glass suddenly heated, with internal stress accumulating. Underneath the glossy exterior of technology, cracks had already begun to spread.

Liaison Coordinator left the cafe and headed to the next observation point: a community service center where workers unemployed due to automation upgrades gathered.

His assessment report generated automatically in his mind: 'Civilization internal integration: lower-middle. Uneven distribution of technological benefits has triggered visible tension. The conflict between traditional value systems and technological impact is beginning to emerge. Management has realized the risks and is attempting to appease, but measures are lagging behind the speed of emotional fermentation. Current risk level: Yellow (requires attention).'

Just then, his internal sensors captured a trace of abnormal consciousness fluctuation. It did not come from the surrounding crowd, but from a more distant, more... concentrated direction.

The direction of the moon.

On the far side of the moon, at the Cradle base, in the Mind Acceleration experiment module.

Zhou Zhe stood behind the observation window, his face pale.

Inside the experiment module, Li Wei and two other volunteers lay quietly in life-support pods, with complex neural interfaces connected to their heads. They were participating in the first low-intensity human test of the Consciousness Acceleration Protocol—increasing thinking speed to five times the normal state, for one hour of continuous virtual learning (subjective experience of five hours).

According to the safety protocols provided by the Blade - Seventh Execution Court civilization, this should have been a basic, risk-free test.

But at this moment, the three consciousness waveforms on the monitoring screen were undergoing an eerie synchronization.

It was not just a simple frequency alignment; the waveform details, emotional pulses, and even random thought noise all showed a similarity of up to 92%. It was like three radios suddenly starting to play the exact same program, including background static.

'Shut down the acceleration protocol! Disconnect the neural links!' Zhou Zhe ordered.

The technicians scrambled to operate the controls. The life-support pods emitted a soft release sound, and the neural interfaces retracted. But the waveform synchronization did not stop; instead, it... intensified.

Li Wei's eyelids began to flutter rapidly, and the other two did the same. Their breathing rhythms also converged.

'Vital signs?'

'Stable, but... too stable. Heart rate, blood pressure, cerebral oxygen metabolism rate—the three of them are completely synchronized, with an error of less than 1%.' The medical officer's voice carried unease.

'What did they experience in the virtual environment?' Zhou Zhe pulled up the experiment log. The records showed that everything was normal for the first two hours (ten hours subjective), with the volunteers learning advanced courses in basic physics while in the accelerated state. But in the last three minutes (fifteen minutes subjective), the virtual teaching system was suddenly interrupted, replaced by an unparseable, high-density stream of information.

99% of the information stream was intercepted by the safety protocol firewall, but 1% of the 'overflow' still made contact with the volunteers' consciousness.

It was this 1% that caused the current situation.

Inside the observation window, Li Wei suddenly opened her eyes. The other two opened their eyes simultaneously as well.

Three pairs of eyes, unfocused, yet staring directly at Zhou Zhe outside the observation window.

Then, their lips, with the exact same amplitude and rhythm, opened and closed silently, repeating the same lip movements.

Zhou Zhe understood.

They were saying:

[The network... is... watching.]

[We... saw... the cracks.]

[The shadows... are crawling out... from the cracks.]

The words (silent) faded, and the three closed their eyes simultaneously, falling into a deep coma. The consciousness waveforms remained highly synchronized, but their intensity slowly declined, trending toward a stable, dreamless sleep.

Alarms rang throughout the base.

'Unknown consciousness infection event. Quarantine the experiment module, initiate the highest level of biological containment. Analyze the source of the information overflow!' Zhou Zhe's voice was still steady, but his hands were trembling slightly.

The analysis results came out quickly. The 1% overflow of the information stream had high similarity in its signature code to the basic communication protocols of the Gaia Network. However, it did not originate from any known anchor point in the network.

It was like... an unconscious collective sleep-talking.

From that 'breathing,' half-awake giant.

Just as the moon base fell into chaos, Elena, deep underground in the Taihang Mountains, received a new, intermittent message from the watch spirit:

[Acceleration... disturbed... the shallow... consciousness.]

[The cracks... are wounds... and also channels.]

[They (the volunteers)... are temporarily safe... but the channel... has been opened.]

[Be careful... the dreams... will... overflow.]

At the end of the message, a coordinate was attached.

It was not a star chart coordinate.

It was a point on Earth. Located deep within the Siberian permafrost.

Next to it was a line of small text:

[Hibernators here, designated 'cold fang'. Awakening progress: 17%. Characteristic: Feeds on fear and suspicion.]

Elena felt a chill run up her spine.

Liaison Coordinator's social stability observation had captured the anxiety and fear spreading through the crowd.

And 'cold fang' feeds on fear and suspicion.

Could this be a coincidence?

Or was it that the 'breathing' of the Gaia Network, the 'awakening' of the Hibernators, and the 'social cracks' within human civilization caused by the technological leap were forming some kind of dangerous... resonance?

She looked up at the beautiful, permanently frozen life forms in the underground ecosystem.

Talos created green soil to nurture life.

Alpha founded the Blade - Seventh Execution Court to protect the nurtured soil.

And fifty million years later, their legacy and shadows intertwined, falling upon the shoulders of latecomers who had just learned to look up at the starry sky.

And the soil itself seemed to be becoming... hungry.