1: Falem civilization

"Activate the curtain tearing instrument."

Lei Wen said softly, as if presiding over a sacred ritual. His voice sounded somewhat hoarse in the silent room, a testament to over a dozen consecutive hours of fighting in the stellar universe.

On the screen, the final project of the "Ascension" technology tree lit up, and a pale purple halo spread like ripples, covering the entire Star Map in his game interface.

After three months—over ninety days and nights in the real world, and four and a half centuries in the game universe—the civilization he had created, the Faleim Scientific Conglomerate, had finally reached the pinnacle of technology and will.

This was one of the ultimate goals of the game "stellar universe" (not Stellaris, to avoid setting conflicts).

When a civilization's technology, culture, and social structure develop to the extreme, it can attempt to tear the curtain of reality and lead the entire race to leap toward a higher-dimensional life form—this is "Ascension."

Lei Wen leaned back in his gaming chair and let out a long breath; the air was filled with the mixed scent of energy drinks and instant noodles.

He rubbed his sore eyes and refocused on the screen.

His Faleim People were the perfect race he had designed himself; he had spent a great deal of time adjusting genetic points to finally create this humanoid race with long ears, blonde hair, and an appearance resembling the elves of classical fantasy.

They were elegant, intelligent, and possessed extremely long lifespans.

Under Lei Wen's guidance, they believed in "Materialism," viewing the universe as a collection of physical laws that could be completely understood and manipulated; at the same time, they practiced "Authoritarianism," with an efficient, centralized, and absolutely rational Central Council ruling over a vast empire spanning hundreds of galaxies.

There were no gods, no hollow beliefs, only cold logic and an infinite thirst for knowledge, yet they were not like those civilizations that had completely turned into machines and lost their last remnants of emotion; they could also wield psionic energy—which the material world could not explain—as easily as moving an arm.

This was the ideal civilization in Lei Wen's heart.

On the screen, the game's progress log scrolled rapidly.

"We have touched the boundaries of reality..."

"The curtain is being lifted, and higher-dimensional knowledge is pouring in like a tide..."

"The sublimation of the entire race has begun; our mortal bodies are being reshaped, and our will will transform into immortal psionic energy..."

Accompanied by solemn and magnificent electronic background music, Lei Wen watched as every planet within his empire's territory began to emit a soft light.

The bustling interstellar routes, where trade ships and research vessels once shuttled back and forth, vanished, replaced by an indescribable cosmic silence.

His empire, his people, the creation he had poured countless efforts into, were becoming something greater in a way he could not fully comprehend.

Finally, as the last log popped up, the game screen gradually dimmed.

"We... are both the end and the rebirth. Thank you, the guide. Your guidance, we shall never forget."

"the guide" was a point of confusion for Lei Wen, because the title of the Faleim supreme leader was "Archon," but in the game text, the term used for him, the player, was "the guide." He didn't know if it was because he had installed mods; his game seemed different from everyone else's.

However, at least—the game was cleared.

As the credits rolled, Lei Wen felt a great sense of emptiness.

It was like an author who had finished a masterpiece, left only with a sense of loss after writing the final period.

That sea of stars made of 0s and 1s, those colonies he had personally named and built, those invincible fleets he had designed and commanded, all fell silent with the end of the game.

He turned off the game, and the computer screen reflected his weary face.

Outside the window, the sky was already beginning to brighten; the city was about to wake from its slumber.

"Buzz—buzz—"

The phone on the corner of the table vibrated, and a message popped up on the screen.

It was a notification from the class group; the counselor had forwarded a lecture announcement from the college.

"Topic: Looking Up at the Starry Sky—The Possibility of Extraterrestrial Civilizations and Speculation on the Fermi Paradox"

"Speaker: Professor Liu Zhaodong (PhD in Astrophysics, member of the 'Project Starlight Seeker' team)"

"Time: 10:00 AM today, Lecture Hall, Building A."

Lei Wen smiled self-deprecatingly.

He had just personally led a virtual civilization to the altar, and now he had to go listen to a lecture on "Are we alone?"

This feeling was absurd yet wonderful.

He stood up, stretched, and his bones let out a satisfying crack.

Regardless, life had to go on; a game was, after all, just a game.

He turned off the computer and pulled open the curtains, letting the first ray of morning sunlight shine into the room that had been illuminated by virtual stars all night.

At that moment, he did not realize that on the other side of the universe, a cataclysm far exceeding any game or theory had already quietly occurred.

...

The Faleimland System was the Cradle and heart of the Faleim Scientific Conglomerate.

A brilliant G-type main-sequence star, "Sacred Fire," nurtured the thirteen planets in this system with its light and heat.

Among them, the third planet, "Falem Homeworld," was the capital of the entire civilization and the seat of the Central Council of the Conglomerate.

This day, for the tens of billions of law-abiding citizens on the Falem Homeworld, should have passed peacefully under absolute order and rationality, just like the thousands of standard days before it.

However, the anomaly descended in an instant, without any warning.

There were no energy fluctuations, no signs of spatial distortion, not even the slightest physical tremor.

It was as if the entire universe had been paused by an invisible entity, and then the background had been switched.

The first to discover the anomaly were the astronomers at the "Far-Seer" deep space observation station on the edge of the Faleimland System.

Chief Astronomer Zeral was sitting upright at his observation station, his long fingers sliding rapidly across the holographic projection interface, checking gravitational lensing data from various quadrants.

His golden hair was meticulously tied behind his head, and a small communicator was worn on his long, pointed ear.

Suddenly, all his movements froze.

"Impossible..." he muttered to himself, his azure pupils filled with disbelief.

The Star Map before him, the map he had been familiar with for over three hundred years, the magnificent scroll depicting the known boundaries of the Faleim Civilization, had become... completely unfamiliar.

The Kevlan Galaxy had vanished. In its place was a spiral nebula of strange form that had never been recorded before.

The Vol-3 Galaxy, where the Conglomerate's largest trading partner, the "Grok Community," was located, was gone; that location was empty, with only endless darkness.

All marked hyperspace lanes, natural wormholes, and those stargate networks that had taken decades of painstaking effort to build had all evaporated into thin air.

"Restart full-spectrum scanning! Calibrate space-time beacons! Check the quantum entanglement communication array!" Zeral's voice became sharp with shock; he maintained the last vestiges of a scientist's composure, trying to find the cause in technical failure.

However, the cold data ruthlessly told him that all equipment was operating normally.

It was not the equipment that was the problem; it was the universe itself.

Panic spread like a virus within minutes from the "Far-Seer" observation station through emergency encrypted channels to the Central Council on the Falem Homeworld.

In the Council hall, the atmosphere was so heavy it felt like it could drip water.

Twelve Council members—the most powerful individuals of the entire civilization—sat upright around a huge circular conference table.

Each of them maintained the typical elegance and calmness of the Faleim People, but their furrowed brows and slightly trembling fingertips exposed the stormy waves in their hearts.

"All deployed fleets, lost contact." The Military Councilor reported in brief and heavy words, "The Third, Fifth, and Seventh main fleets, as well as the defense platforms of all colonial systems, have all severed quantum entanglement communication with us."

"All colonies, lost contact." The Interior Councilor continued, "From the industrial planets of the core worlds to the agricultural worlds on the frontier, we have lost all connection with them, as if they never existed."

"Our empire... has vanished." An elderly Councilor muttered, his voice filled with confusion and despair.

The Faleim Scientific Conglomerate, a vast interstellar empire spanning nearly one-third of the Milky Way's spiral arm, had been shrunk in an instant to only its home system—Faleimland.

They were isolated.

No, something more terrifying than isolation.

They had been "dug" out of the universe they were familiar with and thrown into a completely strange environment.

This conclusion was too insane; it completely contradicted every physical law they knew.

It was unscientific, irrational, and bordering on myth.

And for a materialistic civilization that regarded science and rationality as the gold standard, this was more terrifying than any powerful enemy.

Chaos began to spread in the upper echelons of society.

Although the Central Council used every means to block the news, the panic of losing contact with the entire empire inevitably seeped out.

Financial market indices began to fluctuate violently, some sensitive research projects stalled, and all sorts of bizarre rumors began to circulate among the public.

The Faleim Civilization, this powerful empire that had been invincible and advancing triumphantly in Lei Wen's game, encountered the most severe survival crisis in its history within the first hour of descending into reality.

They had lost their vast territory, their invincible fleets, and almost all their resource production sites.

They were like a potted plant that had been uprooted and thrown into a strange flowerpot, with an uncertain future and unpredictable fate.

After an emergency meeting that lasted dozens of hours, the Central Council was still at a loss.

They were facing a completely unknown enemy, a phenomenon that could not be understood.

All contingency plans and crisis management procedures became empty documents in the face of a disaster of this scale, where "the entire universe had been replaced."

Just as the entire civilization was about to be swallowed by despair, an ancient relic from the dust of history underwent a strange change.

...

In the deepest part of the Central Museum in "First Axiom City," the capital of the Falem Homeworld, a special item was kept in a heavily guarded relic vault—the "civilization guidance stele."

This was a black basalt stele about two meters high, its origin untraceable.

It had been discovered long before the Faleim People had looked up at the starry sky or established the first city-state on their home planet.

The surface of the stele was as smooth as a mirror but could absorb all light, and there were no words or patterns on it.

For thousands of years, countless scientists had tried to crack its secrets but had achieved nothing.

With the development of technology, the Faleim People had long since stopped harboring any illusions about this unexplainable stele.

It had gradually become a cultural symbol, representing the origin and the unknown of civilization.

For an extremely materialistic society, it was more like an historical embarrassment, a specimen reminding them that there were still things in the universe that could not be explained by logic.

Security Chief Aila, who guarded the relic vault, was looking at the chaos report before her with irritation.

Suddenly, all the alarm lights in the control room where she was located began to flash wildly without warning, emitting a harsh buzzing sound.

"Report! High-intensity psionic reaction in the relic vault!" A subordinate's voice came from the communicator, filled with terror.

"Psionic energy?" Aila was stunned.

This was an extremely ancient term, once considered the dregs of idealism.

Although their race, under the guidance of "the guide," focused on developing genetics and technology, they had also accepted this strange and powerful force.

But she had no time to ponder; she immediately rushed to the vault.

When the heavy alloy door opened before her, Aila was stunned by the scene before her.

The "civilization guidance stele," which had been silent for tens of thousands of years, was now emitting a soft white light.

The light flowed over its pitch-black surface as if it had come alive.

Countless complex symbols and lines that were impossible to understand flashed rapidly inside the stele, and finally, these lights converged into a clear, stable, and concise string of data.

It was a set of astronomical coordinates.

The message was sent as quickly as possible to the overwhelmed Central Council.

In less than ten minutes, Faleim's top astronomers and physicists gathered before the stele; they read the data displayed on the stele with the most precise instruments, their faces filled with shock.

"This... this is a galaxy coordinate!" Zeral, the Chief Astronomer who first discovered the anomaly, announced the analysis results with a trembling voice, "The data is extremely detailed, including the target star's mass, spectrum, number of planets, orbital period... and even specifies the detailed parameters of the third planet!"

He paused, took a deep breath, and shouted with all his might:

"According to the parameter matching, this planet... possesses a stable liquid water environment and an atmosphere rich in nitrogen and oxygen! It is a Gaia planet! A perfect habitable world! And it is right here on the third spiral arm of the galaxy we are currently in, less than twenty light-years away from our system!"

The entire Council hall was first silent as death, then erupted into a huge uproar.

Discovering a Gaia planet close at hand in a completely strange universe.

In the universe where the Faleim Scientific Conglomerate originally resided, every Gaia planet was worth numerous interstellar civilizations fighting tooth and nail over.

This was tantamount to lighting a lighthouse for a lost ship in an endless dark ocean.

"Who gave us this coordinate?" A Councilor asked with a trembling voice.

"Why would the stele left by the guide activate at this moment?"

"Maintaining the operation of the entire Faleimland System requires a large input of external resources. The metals and supporting industrial chains needed for our large number of warships, energy facilities, and space stations cannot be produced by our home system alone. A Gaia planet must contain a large amount of rare resources."

"Is this coordinate... a trap, or hope?"

No one could answer these questions.

But now, they had no other choice.

After losing the entire empire, this mysterious coordinate became the only straw to keep the entire civilization from collapsing.

"Immediately..." Consul Price, his gaze sweeping over everyone present, gave the order in an unquestionable tone, "Assemble all remaining ships in the home system and form an expedition fleet! Our target is this coordinate!"