Chapter 80: When You Gently Enter That Good Night

Chapter 80: When You Gently Enter That Good Night

The roar of engines filled the air as PL1109 ascended steadily into the sky.

With it rose the entire fleet of fighter jets, embodying the aerial combat force of the base.

Across the vast plains, creatures swarmed towards the base like an unstoppable tide.

Through the window, Lu Fen gazed towards the northwest of the base.

Among the cacophony of monster howls, the nearest source was not outside but within the base, where the military compound was located.

They had demanded the abolition of the tribunal's arbitrary right to life and death, advocating for suspected mutates to be transferred to military custody instead. Colin, the leader of the anti-tribunal movement, along with several other core members, voluntarily became their observers and guards to demonstrate the righteousness and nobility of their cause.

Thus, when the distortion arrived, that place became the first to experience a monstrous outbreak. It was too far away to see clearly, but one could only imagine the scene of flesh and blood splattering.

But no one paid attention to that area anymore. Mutates, humans transformed by the anomaly, were the weakest among the monsters.

A slimy creature, resembling a grotesque octopus and towering as high as a pair of twin towers, wrapped its tentacles around the structures. Lights flickered frantically inside the towers as the tentacles pierced through glass, sharp teeth devouring humans amidst a chorus of screams that could even be heard from the air.

"Should we bomb them?"

"Bomb away."

A massive uranium bomb was dropped, and within the resulting mushroom cloud, the monster's body shattered into countless fragments. The connector bridge between the Twin Towers crumbled, collapsing to the ground, causing the two towers to lean and eventually collide, toppling over.

The frenzied assault and resistance lasted for an hour.

Then, they could no longer continue the bombardment.

Every part of the base, excluding the location of the artificial magnetic poles, had been seized by the monsters and subsequently flattened.

The creatures' sole objective was living beings.

Now, all of them were fixated on the entrance to the center of the magnetic field - the last wartime stronghold for humanity. To protect the poles, this area was fortified with the highest level of security, resembling an impregnable fortress.

Hordes of monstrous, grotesque, and indescribable creatures swarmed around the center, relentlessly attempting to breach it.

The aerial fleet could no longer release a single bomb, as their lighter munitions had been depleted. At this point, only a limited number of heavy thermonuclear weapons remained.

If they were to eradicate the monstrous creatures around the magnetic pole's periphery with thermonuclear weapons, the residual blast would flatten the entire artificial pole, even if they managed to control the range and spare it from direct damage. The immense destructive force of the thermonuclear weapons would still cripple the base's power supply system, hastening the death of those in the magnetic center.

At this point, all ground troops had been sacrificed.

The situation within the magnetic center remained unknown.

Aside from the over a thousand individuals who had been temporarily relocated to the magnetic pole, no one else in the base survived.

The aerial squad was powerless.

What made the situation even more chilling was that they were in the era of Deformity, where transformations occurred at the fundamental level of matter. In the next second, a plane could crash, the pole might be compromised, or perhaps the contactless infection would spread among the thousand people in the magnetic center, breaching its defenses from within.

Crueler than death was bearing witness to the complete annihilation of the city with one's own eyes.

The fleet of planes hovered silently above, like ghosts drifting out after the base's demise.

The communication channel buzzed.

It was a message from the makeshift command center within the magnetic pole.

"This is the magnetic field epicenter, with the military fiercely guarding the entrance. We've expended half our firepower. Assuming no unforeseen incidents, we estimate three hours of defense remaining."

"Though the reason for the base being targeted by these creatures is unknown, the situation is beyond our capabilities and exceeds what the aerial fleet can handle."

"However, we request that the aerial fleet terminate their combat mission immediately, depart the base, and find a secure location to land."

"Though we don't know how long you can survive, we implore you to do so."

"Please, the aerial fleet, evacuate the base at once."

The fleet hovered motionless.

"Request repeated, order: The aerial fleet must evacuate the base immediately."

"The base blesses you."

*

At the Abyss, the Highland Research Institute.

Once the magnetic field lost its efficacy, the images on the screens transformed.

Amidst the chaos, only a screen filled with evenly distributed static remained. It was neither orderly nor disorderly, for the sheer randomness itself conveyed an indescribable sense of uniformity.

Boli stared at the screen in that manner, and although he was merely looking at it, An Zhe felt that Boli was gazing through it, into something immense and ineffable.

He recalled what Tang Lan had said to Boli an hour ago. Back then, Tang Lan had asked if Sir had perhaps already grasped some truth but chose not to share it, as the reality might be too overwhelming for them to bear.

In this very moment, faced with Boli's profound gaze, the same thought resurfaced in An Zhe's mind.

"Have you come to understand something?" he inquired.

In the silence, Boli said, "Perhaps not precisely, but it's a string."

"String?"

Atoms, electrons, photons—matter is constructed from elementary particles; but what composes these fundamental building blocks? Strings. Strings are energy lines that exist within a two-dimensional space. When they begin to vibrate at specific frequencies, akin to points forming lines and lines shaping surfaces, these strings transform into the particles that populate our spacetime.

The Simpson Chamber is a masterpiece in the realm of high-energy physics, initially employed to validate the veracity of string theory. It now stands as a testament that, perhaps, it indeed holds true.

An Zhe whispered, "I don't understand."

"No worries, you're already familiar with vibrations and frequencies," Boli explained. "When you pick up a violin and pluck different strings, the strings vibrate and produce distinct sounds. We call those energy units that permeate the universe 'strings,' and their various vibration frequencies give rise to different particles, forming our world."

"Our world was stable before because our strings were playing a constant melody. That's why electrons were electrons, atoms were atoms, and physical equations remained the same. But now—"

An Zhe's eyes widened slightly as he grasped Boli's meaning through this analogy.

"The most terrifying thing isn't that this theory is correct," Boli continued. "It's that... it's time for a new tune." He added, "The cosmic strings are about to be played in a different manner. Or perhaps the universe's frequency has always been chaotic, and humanity emerged only during a brief period of stability. As that era ends, everything will return to chaos."

A pale glow began to illuminate the horizon.

As if only a few hours had passed since nightfall, the dawn started to rise.

"Every law is collapsing, matter warping at its very essence. You, me, Earth, the Sun, the galaxy – all spinning faster," Boli said.

An Zhe asked, "What will happen in the end?"

"I don't know," Boli shook his head slowly. "Living and non-living things will merge, all tangible entities transforming. Time and space will bend, turning everything into something beyond our comprehension. One thing is certain, though."

An Zhe waited for Boli's revelation.

"We're all going to die." The voice echoed.

An Zhe coughed violently again, as if he were expelling all the blood from his body. His physical deterioration outpaced the grotesque transformation of his body. He huddled in a chair near the fireplace, astonishingly still alive, seemingly fated to witness humanity's extinction in his final moments.

Tang Lan had left. The research facility was filled with half-human, half-monster abominations. Some possessed immense combat capabilities, while others were mere ordinary creatures—plants or animals, even more cumbersome and slow-moving than human beings.

The enormous vine encircling the entire institute rose up, each branch standing erect like bristling hairs, adopting an aggressive stance.

Sibilant shadows crept upward from the abyss, resembling an ink-black tide rising. The crawling monsters moved at a sluggish pace, whereas the flying ones already swirled above mountain peaks, diving down towards the base. Why did they assemble to attack human settlements only after the magnetic disturbances triumphed? Was there something special about this timing? Or was it simply because human bodies were weak and easy prey?

It shouldn't be so.

Boli muttered to himself, "What do they want from this place?"

From the side, the walkie-talkie crackled with the sound of howling winds and Tang Lan's voice: "Half of the abyssal creatures are moving outward, while the other half are heading this way. The first ones to arrive are the flying monsters."

"We can't hold out, sir. What should we do?"

The Highland Research Institute maintained its modest arsenal, and with a cannon's blast, a flying bird plummeted, coming to rest precisely at the center of Simpson's enclosure.

The glow of the Simpson cage was so intense that An Zhe could see everything with startling clarity—the tips of its wings touched the deep crimson laser and flames first, instantly vaporizing into sparkling dust. It raised its neck as if attempting to scream, but its body plummeted rapidly due to gravity, plunging entirely into the sea of fire.

——Then, in that very instant, its body was completely shattered, and the sparkling dust spread throughout the Simpson cage, like a spring dust storm, like the sparks that burst from burning wood in a fireplace with a "crackling" sound.

Then, the flame of Mars flickered out, vanishing without a trace.

And so a life departs, vanishing from form to spirit.

An Zhe shrank back, gasping for breath with difficulty. This might not be an undesirable swift end, better than being slowly tortured by the passage of time as he was now.

Boli gently lifted him, offering a sip of glucose water. Yet, even the warm liquid sliding down his esophagus felt like a scorching torment.

He leaned against Boli.

The Simpson Cage is an amalgamation of potent force fields and high-energy particle streams, its power being exceedingly immense.

An Zhe nodded, and upon seeing the state of the dead bird, he understood why Boli had strictly forbidden anyone from the research institute to approach Simpson's enclosure.

"Let me think..." Boli said, "Is it possible to lure all the monsters into Simpson's cage?"

True to his word, he acted accordingly. The institute's personnel were equipped with a dozen crude communicators to facilitate communication among themselves. Led by Tang Lan, the hybrids temporarily held the monstrous creatures at bay, maintaining a perimeter of about a hundred meters. Boli directed the non-combatants to evacuate into the White Building, sheltering behind Simpson's Cage.

The creatures had set their sights on the people within the research facility, clearly shifting their assault toward this location.

At this moment, Boli signaled to Tang Lan to create an opening, through which an indescribable creature, adorned with star-shaped tentacles and capable of flight, plunged straight down. However, the raging flames of Simpson's cage engulfed the entrance of the White Tower, necessitating that the creature pass directly through it if it wished to reach the building.

Without hesitation, it chose an angle with the least exposure to the fiery inferno and glided downward.

On the screen, several distinct curves suddenly appeared.

They intertwined like the long, distinct ripples on a lake's surface left by a duck's paddling feet as it swims.

Boli fixated intently on those curves.

As the creature's form dissipated, the contours vanished with it, returning to an unordered array of pristine white pixels.

"In the past, when monsters or aberrations were incinerated by the Simpson Cage, the curves were exceedingly chaotic; it appears that was also due to the influence of magnetic fields," he explained. "Therefore, these few lines represent the creature's own frequency. If a different monster were to enter—"

Hardly had the words left his mouth when a dull thud echoed out; one of the gunmen on the ground had struck down a slightly smaller creature, causing it to tumble into the confines of Simpson's trap as well.

The same shimmering dust rose, and on the big screen, several lines appeared, distinct from the flock of birds yet still clearly visible.

Boli's breathing quickened.

"In the realm of fundamental particles, every living being possesses its unique frequency, and every substance – every element – has its distinctive resonance," he explained. "They exist independently amidst stable oscillations, yet intertwine amidst chaotic vibrations."

His gaze was fixed on the flickering lines and calculated parameters on the screen, his expression bordering on mania. "The frequency captured by the Simpson Cage can be replicated using a magnetic field generator. It was precisely this method we employed to simulate the Earth's magnetic field initially. If we transmit the frequency of the captured creature, organisms within the artificial magnetic field will be susceptible to infection by this frequency."

He said in a daze, "In the end, God finally allowed me to catch a glimpse of the truth. Should I thank him for that?"

It was as if he had received divine revelation or a sudden flash of insight.

"Could the nature of a species itself be a sequence of quantifiable digits? Is it feasible to encapsulate the essence of a high-dimensional or low-dimensional world with mere words?"

"We study fluctuations in geomagnetism, thus uncovering frequencies that symbolize protection and resistance, allowing us to cling to existence for over a hundred years in this era. In truth, we have already brushed against a fragment of the truth."

He scribbled on the paper repeatedly. An Zhe gazed at Boli's back silently. Even at the brink of death, truth held immense significance for humanity. To him, however, it held no meaning. Humans employed intricate theories to represent the world, but to his eyes, the world was just the world – there wasn't an abundance to decipher or explain; it was merely a complex facade.

Boli continued speaking undeterred.

"As a Synthesizer, I studied genetic alterations and the nature of consciousness. It felt like God, when creating each species or individual, assigned them a random number—entirely arbitrary, unknown to anyone. Say my number was two, and a vine's was three. If the vine's thorn cut me and our spaces overlapped, its higher number would overwrite my consciousness. As it turned out, that intuition was correct. One wave could indeed supersede another. Waves have strengths and weaknesses. There exists the strongest wave in the world that can overpower all, as well as the weakest ones that are always dominated."

He gazed at the oncoming monsters with an almost neurotic glint in his gray-blue eyes. An Zhe knew that his scientific mind was spinning wildly, processing too much information that he could only clarify his thoughts by speaking rapidly. Boli muttered, "What do they want? To attain the most powerful frequency? Or have they sensed the magnetic field generator emitting specific waves?"

"Or... or..." His eyes widened. "Is there such a thing as an absolutely stable frequency?"

He snatched a piece of paper nearby. "Ji Bolan once told me that the Northern Base discovered a sample exhibiting absolute inertia—"

He picked up the communication device.

An Zhe watched him silently.

Much of what Boli said went over his head, but he understood some parts.

A long time ago, how had he acquired his own consciousness? He couldn't recall; it must've been a mutation born from coincidence, a tiny ripple amidst this grand wave.

And thus, he existed.

Human destiny resembles a capricious symphony.

Later, he encountered An Ze.

Coughing, he rose from his chair; physical pain was insignificant if one chose to ignore it.

Boli heard him stir and, despite the intensity of his emotions just moments ago, spoke to him gently, "Stay seated, there's no need for help here. Rest well."

Yet, he promptly immersed himself once more in his research and revelations.

An Zhe picked up a sheet of paper, scribbled a few words, folded it, and handed it to Rum before heading towards the door. Rum opened his mouth to speak, but An Zhe subtly gestured for silence.

Outside the door, standing behind the translucent glass, An Zhe gazed at Boli with a tender yet sorrowful expression.

Click – he locked the door from the outside.

The sound startled Boli, who had been absorbed in his research. He lifted his head, looking in this direction.

An Zhe turned and descended the stairs, his steps slightly unsteady, as though his organs were being seared by flames.

Ultimately, he navigated through the crowd on the ground floor of the white building, descended the front steps, and approached the blazing inferno that engulfed Simpson's cage.

He wasn't supposed to be here.

He belonged to the Abyss, whereas it was his kind who were launching the assault against humanity.

Now the situation is reversed.

Do I experience joy or distress from my involvement with the human collective?

Flames danced around him, scorching his face, as he bent over and coughed out more blood.

The withering of a mushroom required time, its mycelium melting gradually. He had closed his eyes countless times, feeling that they might never open again, yet each time, they did.

What kept him alive until now? Was it chance? Boli said that chance was destiny.

Well, then, let's assume destiny led him here!

With a crash, the vines protecting the research facility fell, Tang Lan's half-winged form bleeding as he stumbled into the air, engaging the diving giant eagle in a fierce battle. The bird's sharp beak pierced through his shoulder, splashing blood. Not even a groan escaped his lips. One hand pressed firmly against the gushing wound, while the other transformed into a gleaming, razor-sharp claw, aiming for the eagle's eyes.

Blood trickled onto the ground.

Have humans, with their unique capacity for joy and suffering, ever regretted this distinction from other beings?

An Zhe smiled, taking another step towards Simpson's cage as flames licked his face, searing him as if he were caught in the sweltering heat of a scorching summer day.

The sound of something thudding against the windows of the White Tower echoed, but he didn't turn his head.

Burning alongside Simpson's cage was the sunset on the horizon, a colossal sun sinking, its grandiose golden-red hues illuminating half the sky. The battle at the research facility raged on, a chaotic symphony of howls, explosions, bloodshed, the dawn's first light, and flickering flames intermingling.

Uncle Tree, who had once prepared him potato soup, was violently lifted from the ground by the monster and then ruthlessly slammed back down. His body hit the ground with a thud, his gaze frozen, blood trickling from the corners of his eyes.

The ground, stained with blood, was a canvas of death.

Everything in the world unfolded in slow motion before his eyes. An Zhe took another step forward.

"Don't…" Uncle Tree's hoarse voice managed to utter a syllable, followed by a few heart-wrenching coughs. "Don't take your own life..."

The instinct of any creature is to survive, and the instinct of a species is to endure. Mankind has never gently embraced the gentle night.

Confronted with Simpson's cage, An Zhe too was finally seized by the panic that accompanied the proximity of death. He gazed at Uncle Tree and murmured a question, one that seemed as much directed at himself as it was to Uncle Tree, "But can you all still survive?"

Uncle Tree's consciousness was fading, and he slowly shook his head before gazing at the distant horizon.

His gaze abruptly froze, and after a moment of solemn silence, he suddenly let out a few hoarse breaths, revealing an excited expression.

A low, rumbling drone, distinct from any monster's howl, echoed on the horizon, catching An Zhe off guard as he lifted his head.

In the distance, a formation of dark silhouettes glided gracefully toward them from the gilded horizon, their trailing edges brushing the clouds like elongated feathers.

"Flying... airplane," Uncle Tree informed An Zhe.

He recognized it as an airplane. Gazing at the familiar silhouette, An Zhe suddenly felt a genuine sense of joy.

The distress signal sent to the Northern Base had not been overlooked. Boli had exhorted Tang Lan to assist the base, regardless of past grievances, when the day came that the research institute no longer existed. But now, it was the base that had disregarded past animosity to come to the aid of the institute.

—At a moment when everything seemed destined to end.

Boli was right; his species was both despicable and noble. One could speculate on human actions with the utmost malice, yet also have the greatest faith in their kindness and tolerance.

But with the artificial magnetic poles disabled, what would become of the base?

What about Lu Fen? Or had the base ceased to exist? Where was he? He knew that Lu Fen would give everything for the base until the day it no longer needed him.

A tear trickled down An Zhe's cheek. His love and hatred seemed insignificant amidst this grand apocalypse. Lu Fen had his mission, and he had his destiny.

He took another step forward.

Rumble.

The micro-nuclear bomb was launched from the PL1109's ejection port, its explosion cutting off the ascending path of the creature below. The mountaintop – such a peak was destined to be a target, yet equally destined to be fiercely defended.

"Cargo door opening," came a cold, calm voice.

"Parachute glide wings prepared."

"There's a slight issue. Hold on," said the flight mechanic.

The fighter jet dove, its cargo door creaking as it mechanically opened.

Lu Fen accepted the glider from the soldier.

"Are you going down?" Hubbard asked.

Lu Fen replied, "Yes."

"When you aided the underground city, it was for the benefit of humanity," Hubbard observed, looking at him. "What about now? Is the Tribunal helping the hybrids?"

Lu Fen merely watched as the mercenary captain also took a glider and began adjusting it. He said coolly, "And why are you doing this?"

"I don't know," Hubbard murmured. "I just have this feeling that I'd regret it if I didn't come."

Click.

The aircraft's door popped open.

"My God," the flight technician stepped back. "Is it on fire? What is that?"

A gush of wind blew in from outside, and Lu Fen stood by the open hatch, looking down.

Suddenly, he froze.

Before the blazing inferno, An Zhe lifted his head, gazing at the visitors from the Northern Base.

In that instant, time seemed to stand still.

They saw each other, and their eyes met.

An Zhe trembled violently as he locked eyes with Lu Fen straight on.

Their parting had been long planned, but their reunion was utterly unexpected.

He hadn't imagined encountering Lu Fen here; he knew that Lu Fen hadn't anticipated seeing him either.

The gusts from the fighter jets tugged at the corners of his clothes, and almost instinctively, he reached out slowly towards the sky.

Those familiar green eyes stared intently back at him. The Judicator, tasked with eradicating the alien species, had come to assist the Fusionists' base. A monster stood right in the heart of the human research facility.

It was all absurdity from start to finish, yet the radiant dawn poured down, illuminating them both in each other's eyes.

Yes, that was the kind of person Lu Fen was.

An Zhe curled his eyelashes, smiling at Lu Fen. In his limited memory, he had never shown such an expression to him before.

Despite the distance, he saw a gentle smile slowly emerging in those green eyes—like infinite tenderness.

A gunshot rang out as Hubbard fired at the monster in the sky. The fighter jet dropped uranium bombs around the research facility, and the explosions, gunfire, and cries of battle merged into a grand symphony, adding to the cosmic opera from the depths of space.

And still, more monsters poured forth from the abyss.

The sandstorm, triggered by the vanishing magnetic field, was imminent.

The last human stronghold was falling.

Humanity was on the brink of extinction.

They stared at each other for a long moment, their gaze seemingly filled with the deepest hatred yet also an instant forgiveness.

On this day, they would be together again, freely—

Freely—

An Zhe slowly closed his eyes, leaning forward slightly.

Like a leaf detached from its branch, withering in the depths of autumn.

Within the blazing inferno of Simpson's cage, as the dawn slowly rose and humanity's twilight gently set, his body turned into a flurry of luminous dust, dissolving, drifting, and fading away.

In the laboratory, the flickering, chaotic dots on the noisy screen suddenly coalesced, spun, and an analysis program kicked in. Three seconds later, several frequency curves began to intertwine slowly across the display.

As if by fate.

Gazing at the flickering parameters on the screen, Boli Joan switched the communication channel to the emergency line connecting the Northern Base with the Undercity, uncertain if they would hear him, his voice steady yet trembling with suppressed anxiety.

"This is the Highland Institute."

"Please adjust the artificial magnetic pole emission frequency."

"A1 Channel, 2, 5, 2.7."

"A2 Channel, 9.13, 5, 3, 1."

"D3 Channel, 4, 0, 7."

"Runge Wave, Level 6."

"Adams Trait, Segment 3."

"Configuration complete. Initiate activation."

"Repeat the sequence."

"A1 Channel, 2, 5, 2.7."

"A2 Channel, 9.13, 5, 3, 1."

"D3 Channel..."

Behind him, Rum's fingers trembled slightly as he entered these parameters, pressing the central circular button.

Blinding radiance beamed from the apex of the twin white towers at the ends of the Highland Institute.

An intangible silence rippled outward between the two towers like the concentric waves of a stone cast upon still water.

From the east and the west, vast resonances emanated jointly from these human magnets.

Like the first chime of New Year's Eve.

All was hushed.