112: Chapter 111 The Deep Sea Gaze and Simulated Emotions

The 14th day after the ruling was issued, Western Pacific Ocean, 7124 meters below sea level.

The "Xuanwu" deep-sea submersible hung like a black teardrop in the eternal darkness.

The beams from the external searchlights pierced the boundless black curtain of the deep sea, but could only illuminate a range of a few dozen meters ahead.

Below lay an even deeper abyss that seemed capable of swallowing all light.

Inside the submersible, pilot Xu Haifeng stared intently at the sensor screen, his voice lowered as if afraid of disturbing something: "Arrived above the target coordinates."

"Sonar shows an abnormal bulge on the seabed below, approximately eight hundred meters in diameter, and... an estimated height of one hundred and twenty meters."

"The structural outline is irregular; it is not a natural geological formation."

"The echo characteristics of the surface material... no match in the database."

Co-pilot and Science Officer Shen Qinglan adjusted the multispectral scanner: "The surface temperature is 0.8 degrees Celsius higher than the surrounding seawater, and it is continuously emitting a weak hydrothermal flow."

"But chemical composition analysis shows that the hydrothermal flow is not typical submarine volcanic material; it is rich in... organosilicon compounds and unknown, long-chain carbon molecules."

"Life sign scan... blurry."

"There is a large gathering of basic microbial communities, but they seem more like 'diners' attracted to it rather than the main entity."

The target they were referring to was the pacific node located by Elena based on Talos's "map."

This was a desolate seabed plain south of the Mariana Trench, with no known hydrothermal vents or geological activity.

This bulge was like a giant "cocoon" that had appeared out of thin air on the seabed.

"Attempt active scanning of the internal structure?" Xu Haifeng requested instructions from ground control.

In the command center, Lin Shen, Elena, Zhou Zhe, and others watched the transmitted images and readings via a real-time data link.

"Authorized low-power scanning, frequency controlled within a non-invasive range," Lin Shen ordered, "Watch for any abnormal reactions."

Xu Haifeng activated the deep-imaging sonar.

Low-frequency acoustic pulses were fired at the black bulge.

The sound waves touched the surface, but there was no expected echo.

The surface of the "cocoon" seemed alive; the moment it made contact with the sound waves, it underwent an extremely subtle, ripple-like deformation, absorbing the sound wave energy...

Immediately after, on the scanning screen, the image of the bulge's internal structure began to slowly emerge—not a clear outline, but a chaotic, constantly shifting cloud-like image, in which countless tiny points of light seemed to be flowing, rotating, annihilating, and being reborn.

"What kind of structure is this?" Zhou Zhe frowned, "It doesn't look mechanical, doesn't look biological, and doesn't even look like the ordered forms of matter we understand... It's more like... some kind of trapped, highly active energy plasma? But it has a solid outline."

Elena stared at those flowing light patterns, attempting to perform pattern matching using the method for decoding green soil data.

"The movement trajectories of the light points... have a certain rhythm. It's not completely random. It's like... it's 'calculating' something, or... 'dreaming'?"

Just then, Shen Qinglan suddenly reported: "Detected the target releasing an active scanning pulse! Frequency... cannot be resolved! It is scanning us!"

The external sensor alarm lights of the submersible flashed.

An invisible, non-electromagnetic "sense of being watched" enveloped the Xuanwu.

It was not the sharp sense of threat that comes from being targeted by a weapon, but a grander, more indifferent feeling, as if being observed by the entire ocean itself.

"Internal energy readings of the target are rising! Those light points are flowing faster!" Xu Haifeng's voice was tense.

"Do not take any hostile actions," Lin Shen immediately instructed, "Maintain hover, shut down all active emission systems, and keep only basic life support and communications."

The Xuanwu complied.

The feeling of being watched did not disappear, but it seemed... there was no further action.

The other party seemed to be "identifying" them.

A few seconds later, the active scanning stopped.

Immediately after, the Xuanwu's communicator received a signal—not a conventional radio or sound wave, but an extremely complex low-frequency harmonic signal directly modulated into the deep-sea background noise.

"Decoding... the signal pattern is partially similar to the Gaia Network basic protocol, but older, more... primitive," Shen Qinglan operated quickly.

The decoded information was a constantly repeating "melody" composed of three basic tones.

The melody itself had no meaning, but accompanying the melody was a faint, indescribable "emotional undertone"—it was a fatigue that was older, heavier, and closer to the weight of time itself than the sadness of green soil.

"It... is 'humming'?" Xu Haifeng asked in disbelief.

"It's more like... an unconscious 'vital sign broadcast'," Elena speculated, "Like a heartbeat or breathing."

"But this node is clearly of a higher level than green soil, and its state of consciousness is also more... chaotic."

"Talos's map shows it is one of the cores, but its state seems severely damaged, or... overloaded."

Lin Shen pondered.

An ancient node constantly "humming" a weary melody in the deep sea.

What was it maintaining? And what was it being dragged down by?

"Attempt to send a short, friendly identification signal," he ordered, "Use the 'ecological resonance frequency' we learned from green soil as the carrier, and encode the content as 'We are Inheritors, we mean no harm'."

The signal was sent.

The black "cocoon" was silent for about ten seconds.

Then, it responded.

Not language, not melody.

It "sent" a piece of... perception.

Xu Haifeng and Shen Qinglan inside the Xuanwu, as well as everyone in the ground command center, were instantly pulled into a shared sensory experience:

They "felt" as if they had become the node itself.

Heavy pressure came from all directions—not the pressure of seawater, but a kind of more abstract "burden" originating from the entire planet and even a broader network.

Countless fragmented "information streams" flowed into the "body" from invisible dimensions; some were status reports from other nodes of the Gaia Network (including the faint aftermath of green soil's recent passing), some were incomprehensible noise from the distant stars, and some were... massive, chaotic bio-electric signals and nascent consciousness ripples from the surface biosphere.

These information streams were automatically classified, buffered, partially digested, and partially forwarded within the "body."

It was like an ancient and weary switchboard, processing a flood of data far exceeding its designed capacity.

And deep within the "body," a deeper, darker "burden" was perceived—it was not information, but a "wound," or rather, a foreign object forcibly "stitched" into the core of the node, radiating coldness, hunger, and malice...

The foreign object was slowly pulsating, like a black heart.

With every pulse, it attempted to draw energy and... something more essential from this node, from the entire network.

The fatigue largely stemmed from the continuous consumption required to resist this "foreign object."

The sensory experience only lasted for three seconds before it was abruptly cut off.

Xu Haifeng and Shen Qinglan gasped for breath in the submersible, cold sweat soaking their undergarments.

The ground command center was also silent.

"That 'foreign object'..." Zhou Zhe's voice was hoarse, "Could it be... 'cold fang'? Or something similar?"

"Is this pacific node being parasitized and eroded by some Hibernator?"

"The possibility is high," Elena's face turned pale, "Talos's map shows the three core nodes form a triangular support."

"If one of them is severely eroded, the stability and functionality of the entire network will be greatly compromised."

"This might explain why the 'breathing' of the Gaia Network appears disordered, and why Hibernators are showing signs of awakening one after another—the network's own immune and suppression systems may have failed due to the 'serious illness' of this core node."

"Then, is this node showing us these things as a plea for help?" Zhao Yan asked.

"Or... a warning," Lin Shen said in a deep voice, "It is showing us the burden it carries and the threat within, perhaps evaluating whether we have the ability to understand, or even... intervene."

Intervene in a planet-scale ancient consciousness node parasitized by an unknown terror?

With humanity's current technology and cognition, this is no different from an ant attempting to perform surgery on a blue whale.

"Have the Xuanwu withdraw to a safe distance first," Lin Shen finally ordered, "We need more data."

"Elena, compare the characteristics of the data streams from the sensory experience, and try to parse the content of those 'information streams,' especially regarding the other nodes and that 'foreign object'."

"Zhou Zhe, evaluate the possible technical paths and risks if we attempt to 'decompress' this node or provide 'support'."

"What about the 'Common Future' simulation..." Chu Yunshen reminded.

"Launch as planned," Lin Shen looked at him, "We need to know as soon as possible how our society will react when facing internal tearing and external 'dark tide'."

"Perhaps the method to counter existences like 'cold fang' is hidden within some potential of the collective consciousness."

At the same time, all over the world, 'Common Future' simulation access points.

Li Min put on the neural interface headset and lay down into the access pod.

She was an ordinary community social worker in the eastern part of Long Country, having volunteered for the first batch of tests for "Common Future."

Officials said it was to study social adaptation strategies under technological leaps, and participants had the opportunity to earn points to redeem for certain experience opportunities.

She didn't think too much, just feeling that she should do something for the "future."

The hatch closed, and her consciousness was instantly pulled in.

There was no dizziness, no loading screen.

She "appeared" in a familiar virtual community plaza, where the sun was warm, and neighbors were walking and chatting as usual.

Everything looked so real; the touch, the smell, and even the subtle sensation of a breeze brushing against her skin were exactly the same.

The first day, life went on as usual.

It was just that the news began to mention resource shortages and protests in some peripheral regions.

On the third day, her community received a notice from the simulated government to pilot a new "Neural Network Collaborative Work Platform," which could improve community management efficiency but required residents to voluntarily contribute some of their idle brain computing power.

Li Min chose to agree.

On the seventh day, she began to notice some subtle changes.

In the community forum, some discussions that were originally rational suddenly became filled with gunpowder.

Old Wang, the always kind neighbor next door, argued with the cleaner until his face was red over a trivial matter of waste sorting.

She herself sometimes felt an inexplicable irritability, especially when the night was deep and quiet, and the headset was slightly warm.

On the tenth day, the news reported that a city in the Southern Continent simulation zone had erupted in large-scale riots due to resource distribution, and the simulated government announced a state of emergency.

At the same time, anonymous information known as the "dark tide" began to circulate on the network; its content was hard to distinguish as true or false, but its core was inciting distrust and hatred toward "new technologies," "new policies," and "vested interests."

Li Min's community was still relatively calm, but there was a palpable sense of tension in the air.

The attendance rate for the online mutual aid meetings organized by the community was getting lower and lower.

She tried to soothe the agitated neighbors, but found her words pale and powerless, as if an invisible force was neutralizing her goodwill.

On the fourteenth day, at 3:00 AM simulated time, Li Min was awakened by an abnormal alert sound from the headset.

It was not from the simulated world, but a security alert from the neural interface itself—abnormal low-frequency consciousness fluctuation interference detected, recommending a temporary disconnection.

She hesitated for a moment but did not disconnect.

Instead, following the "anomaly reporting procedure" mentioned in previous training, she focused her attention and tried to "feel" that interference.

In an instant, she "heard" it.

It was not a sound, but "noise" that acted directly on the consciousness, a mixture of countless people whispering, crying, arguing, and roaring.

Within the noise, there was a deeper, more greedy "beat," like a heartbeat, and also like a sucking sound.

This beat seemed to have a magical power, causing the anxiety, uncertainty about the future, and grievances accumulated at work that she usually suppressed in her heart to all surge up and be magnified several times over.

She felt a wave of intense nausea and dizziness.

Just then, from the direction of the community plaza, a soothing "sound" similar to an ancient bell toll suddenly came.

This sound also acted on the consciousness, clear and firm, carrying a sense of order that made people feel at ease.

It was not strong, but it effectively neutralized a portion of the influence of the "noise" and the "beat."

Li Min's nausea eased.

She realized that it was the "Public Consciousness Stabilization Tower" newly installed in the center of the community in operation—this was one of the facilities urgently promoted by the simulated government after the "dark tide" appeared, said to use some technology decrypted from the "Heritage."

She disconnected, exited the simulation, and gasped heavily in the access pod.

Outside the pod, staff immediately stepped forward to check her physiological data.

"You came into contact with the deep-level fluctuations of the 'dark tide' and even triggered the response of the stabilization tower," the staff member noted, "We need a detailed report of your experience, especially the detailed sensations when the stabilization tower took effect. This is very important for adjusting simulation parameters and response strategies in reality."

Li Min nodded, still feeling lingering fear.

That greedy "beat"... it was too real.

So real that it made her doubt, was this really just a "simulation"?

Bedrock Base, Simulation Control Center

Chu Yunshen looked at the real-time data and experience reports of the participants in countless small windows in front of him.

The simulation had been running for two weeks (simulated time), and the participants' behavioral data, emotional fluctuations, and social interaction patterns were being recorded and analyzed with unprecedented precision.

The impact of the "dark tide" was clearly visible: in areas where the "Public Consciousness Stabilization Tower" or similar positive intervention measures were not deployed, social cooperation decreased by an average of 37%, conflict incidents increased by 210%, and the spread of extreme speech accelerated by 5 times.

The negative emotion index was highly correlated with the intensity fluctuations of the "dark tide."

And the "Public Consciousness Stabilization Tower" (a simplified simulated version based on the resonance frequency principle of green soil) was indeed effective.

In the deployed areas, negative emotions were partially neutralized, the decline in social cohesion slowed down, and even small-scale spontaneous mutual aid behaviors appeared.

But the data also showed that the "dark tide" itself was learning and adapting.

It began to bypass the direct coverage areas of the stabilization towers, turning instead to affect peripheral zones and cyberspace.

It even attempted to simulate "positive emotions" to disguise itself, tricking participants into shutting down or bypassing the stabilization measures.

"This is not simple preset AI behavior," the data analyst reported, "The evolutionary pattern of the 'dark tide' exhibits complex adaptive and adversarial learning characteristics. It's as if... it truly has some kind of 'purpose'—to test our weaknesses and find ways to break through our defenses."

Chu Yunshen recalled the advice from the Blade civilization: to add an "external conscious entity interference" scenario to the simulation.

They had only provided the basic behavioral parameters for "cold fang" at the time.

But the "dark tide" in the simulation now showed a cunning and aggression that seemed to exceed those basic parameters.

Unless... the parameters given by Blade were incomplete in themselves.

Or, the simulation system, while running, had inadvertently connected to... something that truly existed?

For example, the real "cold fang" that was slowly waking up under the Siberian ice sheet?

This thought made him shudder.

Just then, Liaison Coordinator's pearly-white figure appeared silently at the door of the control center.

Its black crystal eyes swept across the data streams filling the walls.

"An interesting phenomenon," Liaison Coordinator's voice remained flat, "Your simulation seems to be doing more than just simulating."

"To some extent, it has become a 'resonance chamber'—amplifying and manifesting the real pressures and fears within your civilization, and perhaps even... attracting the slight 'attention' of external entities."

It walked to a screen displaying a comparison between the energy fluctuations of the "dark tide" and the monitoring data of the Siberian "cold fang."

Although the two curves differed vastly in magnitude, there was a statistically significant similarity in the detailed characteristics of their waveforms.

"You are using your own collective consciousness field as bait to fish for monsters in deep water," Liaison Coordinator turned to Chu Yunshen, "Very brave, and also very dangerous."

"If 'cold fang' truly uses the weak link established by this simulation to infiltrate in reverse, even the slightest breath could cause irreversible contamination to the consciousness of the participants."

"We have security protocols and stabilization towers..." Chu Yunshen argued, but without much conviction.

"Protocols cannot stop something truly ancient and hungry," Liaison Coordinator interrupted him, "I suggest adding a 'purification protocol' test scenario in the next simulation cycle—simulating a powerful 'reset' or 'expulsion' method based on specific consciousness frequencies."

"Observe whether society, after experiencing deep contamination by the 'dark tide,' can recover through 'purification,' and what new traumas or revelations the 'purification' process itself might bring."

It paused, then added: "This is not just for the simulation's needs."

"According to my monitoring, that 'pacific node' deep in your ocean is becoming increasingly fatigued and burdened."

"The pulsation frequency of that 'foreign object' has increased by 2% in the past 24 hours."

"The time left for it may be less than you think."

"And if it collapses, the decay of the entire Gaia Network will enter an irreversible fast lane, at which point all Hibernators... will awaken prematurely."

After finishing, Liaison Coordinator turned and left, leaving the control center in a stifling silence.

Chu Yunshen looked at the screen, where millions of light points representing the participants' consciousness were struggling, collaborating, doubting, and hoping in the simulated world.

They did not know that what they were participating in was not just a social experiment about the future.

Every trace of fear that arose in their consciousness could turn into food that nourished the monster.

Every spark of hope ignited in their hearts could also become a glimmer piercing the darkness.

This "Common Future" was heavier than anyone had anticipated.