An Zhe stood in a corner as he quietly watched everything happen.
Pauli's conjecture was well founded. Supposing that the strange wave was all that remained in this world, the instrument may show it in its entirety.
In fact, this was feasible. Pauli was now facing the communication channel, and perhaps he was mulling over his words. So long as either the Northern Base or the Underground City base agreed to shut down their artificial magnetic pole, the truth would be revealed to them.
But what about afterward? What would happen to the two bases after the loss of the magnetic field? The calamity from one month prior directly reduced the Northern Base's surviving population to eight thousand.
He couldn't imagine the kind of struggle Pauli was now facing. This kind scientist had left the base precisely because he couldn't bear to watch the minority sacrificing themselves for the majority.
But the world seemed to be just like this. It made those who sought to survive die, made those who were kind commit massacres, and made those who sought the truth fall into despair instead.
Facing the screen, Pauli slowly closed his eyes.
Tang Lan said, "Allow me."
"No." Pauli said. "We cannot make such an unreasonable request."
"The bases have established emergency systems. Within a short span of time, so long as they have made preparations, they will be able to survive," Tang Lan said.
"And if the apparatus gets damaged because of distortion in the brief span that the artificial magnetic pole is shut down for, what then? In the winter, once the protection of the magnetic field is lost, the environment will be even worse than in the summer," Pauli said. "I can use the independent magnetic poles to simulate a reverse force field and cancel out the artificial magnetic field within the scope of the Simpson cage to create a non-magnetized space."
"I don't understand your expert knowledge," Tang Lan said, "but the artificial magnetic field itself is a very complex frequency, so it must be very difficult."
"Perhaps it will be much simpler compared to the work from before,"
Tang Lan said, "but the fastest way is to have the bases briefly shut down the magnetic poles."
"You can't do this."
"I…" Tang Lan looked at Pauli. "I know your research is correct. You've wished to investigate this calamity for decades already. So long as you can see the wave, you'll definitely be able to find a way to deal with it. You've always been excessively kind."
"Furthermore, we're only making a request. They may not agree to it. The Northern Base only believes in human interests, and we are xenogenics. Every year, they go so far as to dispatch troops to try to eliminate us." He put his hand on the keyboard and murmured, "This is my individual action. All… all the consequences have nothing to do with you, sir."
Pauli only watched him as though he were watching a willful child.
Pale fingertips rested on the keyboard.
One second, two seconds.
Hovering fingertips silently rested in the air above the keyboard.
Three seconds, four seconds.
He suddenly released a trembling breath.
"I'm sorry." His trembling fingers dropped, leaving a string of nonsense in the input field. As though he were facing something frightful, he took two steps back, and the rims of his eyes were red as he said, "I can't do it."
As though he had anticipated such a result long in advance, Pauli shook his head gently. "Silly child."
Tang Lan's eyes reddened.
An Zhe watched all of the proceedings from near the fireplace. The choices humans faced were often difficult, and sometimes their inner suffering would exceed their physical pain. What Pauli said earlier was correct: kindness was humankind's most notable weakness. Under the ruthless world's weight, Tang Lan would suffer, and Pauli would suffer a hundredfold. Thus, he looked at Pauli for a long time, waiting for him to make a choice amidst his inner suffering. Destiny was so fickle that even a hundred years after he was relieved of his position as Arbiter, he still had to face such a difficult choice.
It was right during this silent deadlock that the aurora flashed one more time.
Rum looked reflexively at the big screen, and An Zhe followed suit. The ghostly image appeared on the screen again, but for longer this time, with a full three seconds passing before it disappeared. The strange scatter plot was branded onto An Zhe's retinas.
At the same time, Tang Lan pressed a hand against his temple.
"I heard it again," he said.
What did it mean?
Even An Zhe knew that this meant the unknown wave coming from the universe had suddenly strengthened. As it turned out, it was not gradually advancing as the humans had predicted; it was completely capable of advancing by leaps and bounds.
After five seconds of silence, the aurora violently flashed again, like the sudden contraction of some massive thing's heart, and the entire world fell into complete darkness.
On the screen, densely concentrated specks of light were everywhere.
"It's almost here," Tang Lan said, his voice hoarse. He closed his eyes and lifted his hand, burying his face in his palm. "It's almost here. I heard it. It'll exceed the magnetic field's strength very soon. Sir, you don't need to feel torn any longer. The distortion has arrived, and it can't be stopped."
"What… what…" He hung his head. "What… did we do everything for?"
With those words, he started to laugh, and the laughter was—was despairing. There was probably blood in his throat, An Zhe thought.
Just now, they were still being tortured by the question of whether they were going to ask the bases to shut down the magnetic poles, still resenting this cruel world and cruel destiny that insisted on opposing them, and still drifting within their inner suffering—they thought that they still had the room to choose. But in the very next moment, they became aware of how ridiculous their struggles and resentments were. It had been an utterly purposeless struggle—of course, all of humankind's purposes were purposeless.
The world cared about nothing. It was neither cruel nor callous, only uncaring, indifferent. It didn't care about their happiness, and of course it didn't care about their suffering.
It seemed to only be undergoing a natural change, only progressing little by little. Of course it had no inclination to allow humankind to know the true reason. There was no need. The only ones who truly persisted in figuring out the root cause were humans themselves.
Humankind would be exterminated, all living creatures would die, and the earth would collapse.
But it didn't care.
An Zhe stared blankly at the sky outside.
After intermittent flashes, the aurora up above began to quiver madly. The green light shattered with terrifying speed into dazzling meteors that flew in every direction, and the magnificent meteor shower burned out, its remnants streaking through the pitch-black night sky.
"Beep—" In the laboratory, the machine emitted a drawn-out noise. An Zhe jerked his head up and spotted a flurry of snowflakes on the big screen.
Pauli gripped the chair's armrest with his right hand, and his age was apparent in his hoarse voice as he said, "Start up the independent magnetic poles—"
His voice was accompanied by a bone-chilling chorus of howls, none of which could be easily described with onomatopoeias from any human language. Vibrating together, they pierced eardrums. Outside the windows, down the mountain, in the Abyss—the monsters let out howls that transcended common sense.
"Flap—"
The tremendous sound of flapping wings came from the jungle, as though thousands of birds had taken flight.
They had been lurking in the Abyss for a long time, testing each other and refusing to budge.
But now that the magnetic field was finally on the verge of collapse, these horrific monsters had suddenly begun to stir.
Why?
He didn't know.
The first shadow flew through the sky above the Highland Research Institute.
Pauli went to the Simpson cage's console.
"Sir," Tang Lan murmured. "Do we still have any time left?"
Pauli said, "We don't."
"Then do you still want to continue?"
A brief silence.
"Humankind's aspirations are like the moon in the water," he dazedly said all of a sudden. "It looks like it's within reach, but in fact, it breaks as soon as we touch the water's surface."
"But when we thought that the broken moon also had value and reached out to scoop it up, we discovered that there was only water in our hands. What's even more absurd is that in less than half a minute, even the water had flowed away through our fingers."
He looked at the numerous specks of light as though he were looking at a remote dream. "But supposing I was given a chance, allowing me to still stand by the water, would I still be willing to go scoop it up?"
An Zhe asked a little hesitantly, "Would you still be willing?"
Pauli Jones's eyes were reddened, his gaze shaky, and his voice choked with sobs. In the end, he closed his eyes. "I would."
Tang Lan took out a black walkie-talkie from his pocket.
He looked at everything before him, then dropped his dull gaze and said flatly, "Prepare to defend."