Chapter Ten: Crisis Alert

The gravity elevator at the Temporal Management Bureau headquarters plummeted like an uncontrollable steel beast in free fall. Lin Yu’s stomach clenched violently with every passing floor number, as if invisible hands were repeatedly kneading it. Acid churned within, threatening to bring him to retching.

Fine beads of condensation seeped from the metal walls, slipping down slowly amidst the low hum of the anti-gravity system, like silent tears tracing the cabin’s contours and pooling on the floor. He fixed his gaze on the flickering red alert on the holographic display, mechanically counting down: seventeen floors to the core, sixteen... Suddenly, a sharp sting radiated from the crystalline shard embedded in his combat suit’s shoulder plate—a wound from an ambush on a relic planet three days prior, now a grim reminder that danger was never far.

The skin around the injury grew warm, each pang accompanied by a faint electric current running along his nerves and spreading through his body. On the holographic elevator walls, breaking news scrolled: “Abnormal temporal folds detected at the galaxy’s edge; experts preliminarily link phenomenon to recent frequent meteor showers.”

The screen showed a colonial planet’s protective shield cracking in spiderweb fractures under meteor strikes. Dark red substance seeped through the fissures into the atmosphere—like demonic tendrils slowly devouring the planet’s vitality.

As the shield shattered, meteors rained down like heavy droplets, reducing the city to rubble amidst fierce explosions. Flames soared, wails echoed endlessly, transmitted through the hologram into Lin Yu’s ears, prompting him to clench his fists.

Suddenly, Su Yao pressed her pulse pistol against her waist. Her tactical boot crunched softly on a raised patch of moisture on the floor—an eerie sound in the elevator’s silence. They exchanged a glance. The bloodstains still wet on their combat suits shimmered with a sinister dark purple under the cold light.

These were traces from a mysterious warrior wearing a bronze mask, encountered during their pursuit of a secretive organization. The blood seemed alive, slowly writhing as if consuming the fabric itself, telling a tale of the enemy’s uncanny and terrifying nature. Each movement of the stain reminded Lin Yu of the icy murderous intent in that warrior’s eyes and the nauseating stench of decay emanating from him—a smell as if from another world, mingling metal and rot, lingering relentlessly.

Inside the conference room, twelve holographic projections flared with blinding white light like twelve divine judgments from the heavens, illuminating the entire space and forcing one to squint. Golden gear medals gleamed on each senior official’s chest, exuding solemnity and mystery. The intricate patterns around the medals’ edges shimmered subtly, as though containing the secrets of time and space.

Director Chen Yuanshan’s virtual image stared intently at the data sandbox floating above the conference table. A crystal matrix model mercilessly devoured light points representing parallel timelines.

Those consumed points exploded into countless tiny blue-purple particles, forming twisted runes on the sandbox’s surface—like demonic incantations. “According to acquired data, the secret organization has successfully gathered 273 crystals,” his voice rasped like rusty gears, each word forced from deep within his throat. The cybernetic interface at his throat flickered with a faulty blue glow.

“Seven more, and the ‘Gate of Destiny’ project will be fully activated.”

As Chen spoke, his hologram trembled slightly, as if his anger and anxiety were breaking through the virtual boundary into reality. His fingers gripped the edge of the table so tightly that his knuckles whitened, revealing the tension and unease within.

Su Yao quickly connected her tactical wristwatch’s data port to the meeting system. Instantly, the image of the out-of-control ring device from the laboratory was projected onto the dome ceiling.

Energy chains coiling the device’s surface snapped suddenly with a deafening roar, shaking the entire room. Amidst pale green smoke, a close-up of the experiment subject’s neck twisted at an unnatural angle froze the air, as if time itself halted.

From the back row, a female legislator suddenly covered her mouth, the holo-projection’s glow flickering wildly in her terrified eyes.

“They’re creating living vessels to carry temporal anchor points.”

Chen Mo’s voice came through the communicator, layered with the medical pod’s life support alarms. He was undergoing treatment for crystal infection, crystalline clusters moving beneath his skin, forming net-like marks—each line a grim sigil of death.

“The brainwaves of those test subjects have reached astonishing resonance synchronization with the crystals.”

Chen Mo’s voice was weak and trembling, each word seemingly draining the last of his strength, wrenching the heart. Lin Yu imagined him lying in the pod, his body being relentlessly consumed by the crystalline clusters, struggling in pain.

Suddenly, the conference table shook violently, like a minor earthquake, scattering documents and equipment.

On the holographic star map, thirty-seven red points spread like malignant cancer cells, each surrounded by swirling data streams showing energy intensity and spatial distortion indices.

“These are crystal energy fluctuation points detected over the past 24 hours,” the technical lead said, bringing up a 3D data model. Nebulae in the star system were forcibly reshaped by some force, as if the universe itself was being kneaded by an invisible giant hand.

“They’re distributed across three suspension arm star systems, all moving toward the galactic core.”

Lin Yu’s gaze locked onto one marker—the dark red planet where he had first crash-landed. The energy readings there had surged to a critical threshold capable of tearing space apart.

Ancient structures on the surface emitted eerie resonance. Countless golden patterns emerged from the ruins, as if summoning a terrible force. These golden lines seemed alive, creeping and growing across the ground, cracking rocks and kicking up dust—an agonized cry echoed across the entire planet.

“Immediately activate the ‘Ark Project’.” Chen Yuanshan’s cane struck the floor heavily, sending ripples through the holograms. The crystal embedded atop blazed with a piercing white light—a final warning.

“The Research Department must immediately develop temporal stabilizers, Intelligence must fully track crystal transport routes, and Operations must form twelve task forces at once.”

His gaze pierced through the virtual projection, fixing sharply on Lin Yu and Su Yao. The mechanical eye at his temple emitted a faint charging sound, like the ticking of death’s countdown.

“The relic planet you discovered is the key. You must locate the remaining crystals within seventy-two hours.”

Director Chen’s eyes brimmed with expectancy and worry, as if the fate of all time and space rested on their shoulders. Lin Yu and Su Yao straightened their backs and nodded resolutely—they knew this was a battle they could not afford to lose.

As they stepped out of the conference room, the corridor was already crowded with agents moving briskly.

From the medical pod area came bone-chilling screams. The howl of a crystal-infected patient pierced through thick soundproof walls, sounding like a wail from hell itself. The voice was soaked in agony and despair, chilling to the bone.

Su Yao clipped her newly issued stun gun to her waist. The energy core’s purple glow reflected on the bruise on her jaw. “Ready to dive back into the danger zone?”

Her tactical wristwatch suddenly projected a semi-transparent holographic map, marking the jump route to Sagittarius Beta Nebula. The route was covered in dense red warning markers—like a trail riddled with deadly traps. Each warning blinked insistently, cautioning them of impending peril.

Lin Yu took a deep breath, his eyes firm as he looked at Su Yao. “Let’s go. We have no retreat.”

The starport’s jump engines began to warm with a low rumble, like a beast’s growl shaking the entire port. Lin Yu looked up at the colossal Temporal Management Bureau emblem. The golden gear’s crack had deepened and grown more sinister, as if foretelling the disaster to come.

Lights around the emblem flickered within the fissures, like gears struggling in pain.

His communicator vibrated suddenly. Chen Mo’s encrypted message contained nothing but coordinates, followed by a blood-written warning:

Beware the traitor.

Lin Yu’s heartbeat quickened. He scanned his surroundings, eyes sharp with suspicion. At that moment, their destination—a derelict space station in Sagittarius Beta Nebula—was receiving a shipment of crystals through a temporal jump.

External cameras showed twelve black warships arrayed in a ring around the station. The bronze masks carved on their bows shimmered faintly in the stardust, resembling the devil’s grin, awaiting their arrival.

The ship cannons flickered with ominous red light, poised to unleash lethal fire at any moment. Lin Yu clenched his fists. He knew a fierce battle was inevitable, and they had to uncover the conspiracy’s truth to save all of time and space.