Lu Duo's Emerald Network instantly understood the intent and began to strip away fragments of wishes from the vast Civilization Dreamscape database—fragments that were equally simple and belonged to the very beginning of life:
The warmth of the first spark of fire, the trust of the first cooperation, the heartbeat when facing the unknown, the tears after loss, and the countless moments of still looking up at the stars even in desperate straits...
These "First Sounds" from the historical origins of twenty-five civilizations were mixed with the primitive pulsations of the stars and encoded together.
Yu Nian's pure heart vine extended to the resonance core of the Archives, providing the purest carrier channel for this special broadcast, ensuring it would not be contaminated by the rule-based low temperatures or data noise along the way.
The next moment, a fluctuation that could not be measured by force or data centered on the Starfire Archives and rippled out like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, spreading softly but uncontrollably.
This was not an attack, not persuasion, not even information; it was more like a public declaration of "life itself," a primitive song about "existing and trying to understand existence."
This fluctuation swept past the rule-based cold cauldron of the Chain Council. The low-temperature field that attempted to freeze time experienced a slight disturbance upon contact with the warm current formed by the convergence of countless life's First Sounds;
It brushed past the data fuel projected by the World Government. Those cold historical probabilities appeared pale and abstract in the face of the vivid, authentic pulsations;
It even touched the heavy silence force field of Sector Fan. Within that cycle that had remained unchanged for billions of years, there seemed to be an imperceptible ripple of desire for change.
And the star of Sector δ12, situated at the center of the storm, suddenly heard it just as it was about to be swallowed by coldness, negation, and silence.
It heard its own initial heartbeat being amplified and echoed; it heard that countless distant and strange lives had also experienced similar tremors and longings.
This perception did not come from hope instilled from the outside, but from the resonance with the existence of its own kind.
Its ghostly blue light no longer tried to fight the surrounding chill, but began to pulse with a deeper rhythm—a rhythm that faintly harmonized with the "Echo of the Stars" broadcast.
At this moment, it might still not have found a specific path to break through the cage, but the possibility itself was no longer a zero-probability event in cold data; instead, it had transformed into a tangible, warm breath exhaled collectively by countless existences within this deathly silent prison.
Within the Canying Star Cluster, the cracks in the dark red crystal in front of Galro widened. He felt that the artistic conception of "Absolute Despair" within his carefully arranged "Ritual of Boiling" was being diluted by something more primitive and widespread.
Aboard the World Government's flagship, the Supreme Commander watched the "echo fluctuation" on the monitor—something that could not be categorized or analyzed by any mathematical model—and fell into a brief silence.
And within the ancient consciousness of Sector Fan, that ripple of doubt within its eternal silence pulsation seemed to deepen slightly.
Beneath the undercurrents of the Star Abyss, a new variable had been introduced.
This was not a confrontation of power, but a resonance of the essence of existence.
Could cold logic and frozen time ultimately strangle the initial heartbeat and longing of life? Amidst multiple predicaments, could the star find its own path—one that might not be correct, but was authentic and unyielding—within the distant echoes?
The river of light shines eternal; the silence has been broken.
The Road of Watching extended toward a deeper battlefield, where victory or defeat lay not in the rise and fall of power, but in whether the instinct to yearn for light and heat, sleeping in the deepest part of the rules, could be awakened.
The Echo of the Stars from the Starfire Archives continued to ripple in the depths of the Star Abyss. That resonance, which gathered the initial pulsations of the stars and the First Sounds of civilization, was like a stone thrown into a dead pool; the resulting ripples were quietly changing the cold balance of the field.
However, the echo of darkness is always born alongside the light.
At the edge of the Chain Council's rule-based cold cauldron, known as the Ritual of Boiling, the diluted despair did not dissipate. Instead, it precipitated, condensed, and gave rise to an even more bizarre form.
Deep within the Canying Star Cluster, Galro stared at the dark red crystal where cracks were spreading. The frantic fire of rage in his eyes had died out, replaced by a chasm-like coldness.
Behind him, the silhouettes of the Nine Cursed Apostless solidified completely. The chains in their hands were no longer broken but flowed with a light as thick as blood.
“Oden thought his dance could awaken people's hearts,” Galro’s voice sounded like two pieces of rusty iron rubbing together, “but he forgot that deep within the human heart, there lives not only courage but also something more entrenched than chains... suspicion.”
He slowly raised his hand, his fingers curling into a phantom grip. “Then, let this star also taste the flavor of being betrayed by its own kind. Execute the Shadowdancer Protocol.”
Inside Sector δ12, those nine new shadow fragments that had long been deeply lurking and almost merged with the background of the star's consciousness were injected with brand-new instructions at this moment.
They no longer whispered threats or wove paradoxes; instead, they began precise mimicry and role-playing.
One of the fragments quietly connected to a precious memory of warm resonance within the star's consciousness.
Immediately, it began to simulate fluctuations highly similar to the Echo of the Stars from the Starfire Archives, yet with slight deviations in the details—like a master impersonator quietly inserting a few discordant notes into the original song.
Another fragment captured the star's instinctive curiosity and a trace of fear toward the silence paradigm of Sector Fan. It amplified and distorted this fear, simulating a fake, oppressive signal as if the consciousness of Sector Fan had suddenly turned and was emitting a purification signal targeting the impure essence of Sector δ12.
The Nine Shadows transformed into invisible "Shadow Dancers." In the theater of the star's consciousness, they played the roles of its most trusted "echoes," its most guarded "kin," and even its own newly sprouted "doubts."
They did not directly attack the star's will, but dedicated themselves to distorting every piece of information it received, driving a wedge between it and every possible ally or reference point, ultimately plunging the star into an absolute loneliness—
As if the entire Star Abyss were whispering to it, and every whisper was filled with untrustworthy malice or cold calculation.
Almost simultaneously, the observation arrays of the World Government's Silver Fleet keenly captured the abnormal distortion of the information field inside Sector δ12.
The Supreme Commander looked at the dizzyingly complex mutual interference signals on the screen, and the corners of his cold mouth actually curled up slightly.
“A chaotic information environment is an excellent breeding ground for implanting order.”
He ordered, “Initiate the Memetic Inoculation procedure. Continuously release highly simplified binary logic frameworks and corresponding behavioral incentive paradigms into the target area. When it cannot distinguish truth from falsehood, we will provide the only clearly discernible path.”
Thus, another information stream joined the fray.
It was simple, crude, and black-and-white, constantly repeating reinforcement signals such as 'obedience is safety,' 'abnormality is danger,' and 'efficiency above all else.'
In the star's perception field, which had been made indistinguishable by the Shadow Dancers, this set of logic—so clear it was monotonous—actually emitted a bizarre sense of reliability.
The ancient consciousness of Sector Fan seemed disturbed by the increasingly chaotic rule disturbances around it. The silence assimilation force field within its pulsations further strengthened and began to emit a clear sense of rejection.
This time, the rejection was not indiscriminate; its spearhead was vaguely pointed at the area with the most complex information disturbance—Sector δ12—as if viewing the existence of this newly awakened star itself as a source of noise breaking its eternal tranquility.
Inside the Starfire Archives, the scenes reflected by the Mirror Corridor were heart-stopping.
The ghostly blue light of the star's consciousness now seemed trapped in the center of a labyrinth made of countless funhouse mirrors. Every direction reflected distorted and tampered images:
The echoes from the Archives became suspicious, the silence from its own kind turned into a threat, and a cold, simple logic framework stood out like a lighthouse.
Its will to move forward was still throbbing, but it was filled with confusion and exhaustion. Every time it tried to establish verification with the outside world, the feedback was even more chaotic and contradictory signals, like stepping into quicksand.
“The Chain Council is aiming at the foundation of trust this time.” In Blue Bird's eyes, lightning condensed like needles, and her voice was low. “They are systematically poisoning the channels through which the star perceives the world.”
Zi Yuan's mechanical prosthetic eye quickly scanned the changes in the information flow.
“The World Government's memetic inoculation is muddying the waters, trying to become the only benchmark amidst the chaos. Sector Fan's rejection makes the situation even worse. The star is now like a child surrounded by everyone whispering false information.”
The star is now like a child surrounded by everyone whispering false information.
Bai Cheng's gaze passed through the layers of distorted mirror images, falling on that ghostly blue light that was beginning to scatter but still hadn't given up its pulsation.
She saw that amidst countless false echoes and distorted threats, within the star's consciousness, that tiny core born from accepting contradictions and moving forward was flickering like a candle in the wind, yet miraculously had not been extinguished.
It was confused, struggling, and clumsily searching for even a trace of authentic touch among the countless falsehoods.
She did not immediately take action to purify or clarify.
Because at this moment, any strong injection of truth from the outside could be distorted and exploited by the Shadow Dancers, intensifying the star's confusion and potentially being misread as another form of manipulation.
Bai Cheng turned and walked toward the depths of the Archives where the oldest records were kept.
It was not a place of books or crystals, but an Abyss of Silence condensed from the initial rules.
She immersed her hands into that cold origin of rules. The light of the oath of starlight flowed around her, but it no longer radiated outward; instead, it collapsed inward, merging with her own consciousness.
“Initiate Heart Abyss Reflection.” Bai Cheng's voice rang directly in the consciousness of all Archives members, calm and without ripples. “I will enter a state of rule-based silence; my consciousness will temporarily transform into an absolutely calm mirror.”
“Lu Duo, guide the most chaotic and indistinguishable information stream from the star's consciousness to directionally impact this mirror of mine.”
“Yu Nian, protect the star's core to prevent it from being overwhelmed by the reflected torrent of truth.”
“Director!” Blue Bird and Zi Yuan stepped forward simultaneously.
“This is the only way.” Bai Cheng's silver eyes had turned into two bottomless pools of still water. “What it needs to see is not the truth we provide, but the original face of its own chaotic information after being reflected by something absolutely calm.”
“Truth and falsehood will be identified by the star itself through comparison.”
The next moment, Bai Cheng's consciousness merged with the deepest rule-based silence of the Starfire Archives, becoming an invisible yet absolutely clear Heart Abyss Mirror within the Star Abyss.
At the same time, under Lu Duo's precise guidance, the chaotic information torrent within the Sector δ12 star's consciousness field—distorted by the Nine Shadows, interfered with by memes, and contaminated by noise from multiple parties—surged toward this mirror of silence like water from a burst dam.