Chapter 1349: The Initial Shockwave

It was all over.

Philip stood inside a secret underground bunker beneath the Forward Base, his gaze fixed for a long moment on the platform at the center of the room. The platform’s center was sunken, its edges inscribed with countless intricate, precise runes. Now, the rune array was gradually fading, and numerous tendril-like neural cables were slowly retracting from the platform, retreating back into the various openings along the room’s perimeter. Within the sunken center, only a shapeless mass of biological residue remained, along with a few droplets of thin liquid.

Over the past several hours, that mass of biomass had undergone violent and grotesque mutations, shifting through horrifying forms. Even Philip—hardened by countless battles—couldn’t help but shudder recalling the scenes he had witnessed. But no matter how terrifying the process had been, it was finally over. Whatever soul had once been trapped within that flesh was now severed from this world, erased completely.

The soft rustling of plant tendrils stirred nearby. Philip turned toward the sound and saw a cluster of bright green vines slither through an opening in the corner. As they writhed, they rapidly took on a human shape, eventually forming the embodiment of Beltira. The figure nodded slightly to Philip before turning her gaze to the platform’s center.

“It’s all finished,” a slightly hoarse female voice echoed in the underground chamber. “Bertram and his followers have all left this world. I’ve extracted a great deal of useful intelligence from their memories.”

“That’s good—intelligence-wise, we’ve long been at a disadvantage. Finally, we’re making progress,” Philip nodded slightly. Then, hesitating for a moment, he couldn’t help but add, “You seem troubled, Lady Beltira.”

“…Just thinking about too many things from the past,” Beltira said after a pause, a trace of melancholy in her voice. “Bertram was once a respected scholar, and his followers… those we now call the ‘Dark Clerics’—half of them were once close comrades of Brother Gawain, priests and spiritual leaders of the Northern Expeditionary Force. Before we charged into the wasteland, we all swore solemn oaths. It was a very special era, a unique time. We all seemed to harbor great ambitions, full of passion and pride…”

“I’ve heard His Majesty mention this,” Philip said with a slight nod. “Not just the End of All Things cult, but also the Sleeper’s Order and the Stormborn—these cults that fell into darkness seven centuries ago all had glorious histories. But no matter how brilliant their pasts, their descent into darkness is undeniable. Passion alone doesn’t guarantee honor. The further you stray down the wrong path, the more you deviate from justice.”

“…The path was wrong, I understand,” Beltira gave a bitter smile, though her embodiment’s stiff features made the expression barely perceptible. “As Brother Gawain said, without a correct guiding philosophy and a set of scientific, rational methods and tools, acting solely on passion and heroism makes it difficult to truly achieve your original goals. Often, it leads things to go in the exact opposite direction. For a long time, I only half-understood his words. But seeing Bertram’s current state, I think I finally get what he meant… It’s just a pity none of us ever got a second chance.”

“But at least we can correct this mistake,” Philip said solemnly. “There are still many Dark Clerics like Bertram. We must stop them before they cause disaster.”

“Yes… we must stop them,” Beltira echoed softly. “Otherwise, it will truly be a catastrophe… a disaster that no one can escape…”

…

Deep within the encrypted layers of the neural network, a faint glow suddenly appeared in the darkness. Countless tiny white flowers quickly spread across the vast expanse, their soft light blossoming into a radiant dawn. Where moments before there had been only void, now stretched a sea of white blossoms and delicate grasses swaying in the breeze. At the center stood a round table adorned with pale purple patterns, surrounded by high-backed chairs. One by one, figures appeared around the table.

Among them were Gawain, Veronica, and Hetty, as well as Beltira—the creator of this space—and others: Kamil at the “Gate” project site, Myrmyna conducting experiments on the wasteland border, Amon who had recently returned from the south, and even Enya, who had rarely appeared in the mental network lately. Mortals appeared in their true forms, while the gods took on humanoid “network avatars.” Gathered around the table, they were about to hold a crucial meeting.

Gawain looked around at the assembled figures, his gaze finally resting on Beltira with a slight nod. Clearing his throat, he broke the silence. “Good. Everyone’s here. First, thank you all for coming.

“As you can see, this is a new secure space within the neural network, constructed by Beltira using the nodes of the Solin Great Tree. The perimeter is isolated from the main network by a triple-layer security protocol woven by Nariel and Duvalet. In the real world, we’ve also set up anti-divine barriers at all connection points of the Solin Great Tree. Its protection level surpasses that of the Origin Laboratory. Here, we can discuss matters of the highest security clearance and danger level. The gods present may speak freely.”

“Oh! You finally got this thing up and running,” Enya said with a smile, her golden hair cascading like a waterfall, dressed in a white gown. She glanced at the others, her expression thoughtful. “Looks like what we’re discussing here isn’t ordinary… Gawain, why have you gathered us all?”

“Beltira and Myrmyna have captured an entire group of Dark Clerics operating on the northern front, including a high-ranking cleric of archbishop level,” Gawain said bluntly. “We’ve obtained key intelligence directly pointing to the Sentinel and the Dark Archbishop Bolken’s ultimate scheme. Some of the information even relates to the Mana Tide and divine calamities—I think you all should hear it.”

At his words, everyone’s expressions turned serious and attentive. Even Enya, who had lived through 1.8 million years and once was the god of the dragon pantheon, immediately grew solemn, her gaze fixed on Myrmyna and Beltira. “What exactly is going on? The Sentinel’s plan involves the divine calamities and the Mana Tide?”

“I’ll explain,” Beltira stood. Though she felt some nervousness—this was her first time addressing the “Special Advisors of the Divine Council” all together—her plant-based nervous system was resilient, and her face remained calm. “I extracted intelligence from Bertram and his followers’ memories. First, about the function of those rune stones…”

Her voice carried clearly through the vast “garden” space as she recounted every detail of the intelligence without omission. Both mortals and gods listened intently, hanging on every word.

When she finished, silence lingered. Perhaps the sheer volume of information was overwhelming, or the questions it raised were too many. No one spoke; everyone wore thoughtful expressions. Finally, Gawain, who had already reviewed the intelligence beforehand, was the first to break the silence. Tapping his fingers lightly on the table, he said, “Before we discuss the rune stones, I want to focus on the knowledge about the ‘Mana Tide’ mentioned in the intelligence.”

He turned to Myrmyna, the foremost authority on magic and mana. “Bertram mentioned a new concept related to the Mana Tide mechanism: a ‘mana oscillation’ that reverberates through space, periodically sweeping across all stars. He called it the ‘original form of all things’ and the ‘baseline frequency’ of mana. When this oscillation passes over celestial bodies, it interacts with them, causing optical changes in ‘virtual celestial bodies,’ blurring the boundaries between material and immaterial in ‘real celestial bodies,’ and affecting the cognition of intelligent beings on those bodies. This, in turn, triggers a ‘macroscopic displacement of the observer effect’…”

“The latter part aligns somewhat with our current research and understanding of the Mana Tide,” Myrmyna said before Gawain finished, “especially the explanation of ‘observer perspective shifts.’ Moreover…”

“…there’s a vague connection to the ‘Unified Wave Conjecture,’” Myrmyna continued. “The ‘oscillation’ he mentioned is something we’ve never noticed before, but the blurring of material and immaterial boundaries is exactly what we’re studying now. From the perspective of the unified wave model, I believe this intelligence is highly reliable—at least, I don’t think a Dark Cleric trapped in the wasteland could fabricate such a ‘just right’ theory.”

“The authenticity of the intelligence shouldn’t be doubted. The method Beltira used to obtain it is trustworthy,” Gawain nodded. “This knowledge about the Mana Tide isn’t the Dark Clerics’ own research but likely comes from their special ‘advisor’—the Sentinel.”

“The Sentinel’s knowledge is the knowledge of the Originators,” Hetty suddenly spoke up. “Considering the vast differences in civilization levels, their understanding of the Mana Tide must be closer to the ‘truth’ than ours.”

“An oscillation that periodically sweeps across all stars…” Myrmyna mused. “Actually, that reminds me of some recent hypotheses I’ve been working on regarding the Unified Wave Model.”

“A hypothesis about the Unified Wave Model?” Gawain’s interest piqued. He had vague inklings himself but hadn’t yet formed a complete concept. Realizing that this “Master of All Laws” might share similar thoughts, he leaned in. “Please, go on.”

“The Unified Wave Model attempts to describe our universe as ‘all things are waves,’” Myrmyna explained. “Whether physical celestial bodies or intangible mana, thoughts, and spirits, we consider them all phenomena formed by waves of various frequencies and wavelengths existing independently and interacting through oscillations. Because everything at its core has wave properties, the boundaries between the real and the virtual blur, allowing mutual transformation. This explains how thoughts can give rise to tangible gods and mana can influence both real and virtual realms. This is the foundation of our theory. Extending this leads to an obvious conclusion:

“Our universe as a whole should itself be a ‘superposition of waves’ on a much larger scale, with a more complex structure and more chaotic transformations—in other words, an immense, constantly oscillating ‘field.’”

“This field encompasses all the ‘fluctuations’ that make up the ‘myriad things’ of the world. Its own chaotic, overlapping state is maintained in a delicate balance—one that allows intelligent beings like us to thrive and multiply within it. Of course, due to the limits of our observation and understanding, we cannot perceive the entire cosmic ‘field’ as a whole, nor can we determine whether this balance will last forever. It’s like a tiny insect that only lives through the day, unable to imagine what nightfall looks like. But that’s not what we need to focus on right now. What I want to talk about is the very first ‘disturbance’ in this field… and where it originated.”

“The very first… disturbance?” Amon, sitting beside Mimirna in the guise of an elven elder, furrowed his brow. Straining to keep up with the topic, he instinctively asked, “You mean…?”

“The very first ripple at the birth of the universe—the initial fluctuation born within this ‘all things are waves’ field. Considering the unique nature and role of magic in our universe, it’s very likely that this was also the first ‘magical radiance’ of our world,” Mimirna said with a calm, serious expression. “If we imagine this universe as a pond, there was a moment in time before which the water was perfectly still—no ripples, no fluctuations, no myriad things, and naturally, none of the truths or knowledge we now understand. I call this era before that moment the ‘Epoch of the Unknowable.’

“And then, at some point in time… I don’t know exactly what happened then, but the still surface began to ripple. The first fluctuation appeared. Matter and magic emerged from the once chaotic yet uniform ‘field,’ taking on distinct forms and properties. That’s when the world as we know it came into being. This subsequent period might be called the ‘Epoch of Cognizance.’

“The ‘first disturbance’ I’m referring to is that initial ripple—the very first fluctuation that arose at that moment in our universe… and the cascading waves it set in motion.”

Mimirna paused here, giving everyone present a moment to reflect. Then her gaze settled on High Lord.

“During these days of refining the unified wave model, I’ve become increasingly aware that the model needs a ‘foundation.’ Without this foundation, it feels like a gap—a loophole that leaves us unable to answer the question of ‘where it all came from.’ So I’ve been pondering this matter deeply.

“If our universe has a ‘starting point,’ then there must have been a ‘first ripple’—the very first… ‘disturbance.’”

(End of chapter)