Chapter 6: Traces of the Mysterious Organization

The harrowing scene of team members dissolving, engulfed by black mist, was seared into Lin Yu’s retinas like the mark of a white-hot branding iron. No matter how many times he blinked, the horrific image refused to fade. His stomach churned, bile rising sharply in his throat. Fighting back the urge to retch, he knelt beside the ancient inscriptions that emitted a spectral glow.

The rough ground, littered with sharp gravel, bit into his knees, and his fingertips nearly sank into the cracked grooves of the surface. The wedge-shaped symbols were coated in an eerie, liquid-mercury sheen, casting a cold, silvery light under the dark red illumination, pulsing as if possessed of a life of their own.

The moment the pulse-blaster’s blue light swept across the area, the air seemed to be torn apart by an invisible force, creating harsh, glass-shattering ripples. The surrounding temperature plummeted; he could even see his own breath condensing into tiny ice crystals within the blue light.

As a string of garbled space-time coordinates flickered onto the screen, the implant chip at the base of his skull emitted a piercing whine. It felt as if countless ice picks were ruthlessly churning the depths of his brain, causing stars to dance before his eyes. His temples throbbed violently, and beads of sweat the size of peas rolled down his cheeks.

At that same moment, the data stream on Su Yao’s tactical visor suddenly bled into a harsh, vivid crimson, as if splashed with thick, fresh blood. She ripped off her tactical glove without hesitation, exposing the neural interface embedded in her palm. The metal port gleamed coldly, its strange patterns flickering in the violet light.

Her fingers danced across the holographic keyboard with such speed that they left blurred trails, every keystroke marked by desperation and tension.

"Analyze those coordinates. Confirm if they fall within a known space-time quadrant."

Her voice was tight, betraying a trace of uncharacteristic anxiety. Her nano-combat suit clung to her taut frame, rising and falling with her rapid breathing. Fine, cold sweat seeped through the fabric, forming dark stains that spread like silent fear; the moisture on her back plastered the suit against her skin.

The spaceship AI’s synthesized voice suddenly warped into a sharp, distorted screech, as if a malevolent force had seized its throat, delivering a chilling alert: "Warning! High-frequency space-time transition residue detected in target area. Seventeen unauthorized space-time jumps occurred within the last 72 hours!"

On the holographic star map, a specific coordinate erupted in blinding red light, like blood gushing from a cosmic wound. The red glow expanded, with eerie electrical arcs flickering along its edges.

Su Yao keenly observed that the edges of the red light were spreading according to the Fibonacci sequence—a pattern that perfectly matched the anomalous energy diffusion observed during the "Entropy Serpent" incident three years prior, which had nearly obliterated half the galaxy.

Her pupils contracted violently, her heart skipped a beat, and the grisly details of that catastrophe flashed through her mind, causing her body to tremble involuntarily.

Chen Mo, wearing radiation-proof gloves, carefully used tweezers to extract metal fragments from the edge of the device’s slot, as if handling a bomb primed to detonate. The laboratory-grade microscope magnified the image a million times in an instant; the surfaces of the nanoparticles were etched with complex structures resembling DNA double helices. They were currently consuming one another in defiance of thermodynamic laws, proliferating with a frantic, lifelike intensity. Each act of consumption was accompanied by a faint, blue flicker.

He quickly synced the analytical data to the squad channel. A jarring comparison curve popped up on the holographic screen: "The underlying logic of these nanobots shares a 98.7% homology with the 'Entropy Serpent' virus leaked from the space-time black market three years ago." No sooner had he spoken than he began to cough violently. He doubled over, bracing his hands against his knees, as metallic-sheened phlegm seeped between his fingers, staining the floor with eerie silver traces and containing tiny, crystalline particles.

***

Su Yao’s shock cannon let out an ear-piercing shriek without warning, its energy readings plummeting by thirty percent in ten seconds, as if its life force had been drained by an invisible hand. White smoke poured from the cooling vents on the barrel.

"Weapon systems are being jammed!"

Her warning was ruthlessly cut off by the appearance of crimson light points at the end of the corridor.

Two rows of blood-red, eye-like sensors slowly emerged from the darkness. The runes flowing across their surfaces were identical to the apocalyptic inscriptions they had discovered at the ancient Earth civilization ruins, carrying a bone-chilling sense of familiarity. As the runes flickered, they seemed to whisper an ancient curse.

Lin Yu’s pulse-blaster hummed frantically. On the holographic map, a dense swarm of red triangles was closing in. To his horror, he realized that each icon pulsed with the same ghostly blue light as the black mist—like the eyes of demons watching from the dark. The lights grew brighter, as if drawing nearer.

"Everyone, retreat! Back to the ship!"

Su Yao’s command was torn to shreds by a violent explosion. A massive shockwave hit them, throwing everyone to the ground. The alloy wall behind their teammate, Xiao Li, collapsed with a roar. Amidst the swirling dust, three black spheres covered in runes rolled into the corridor.

The moment the spheres cracked open, the communication channel erupted with harsh static, as if countless screams were echoing in their ears, so shrill they were forced to cover them.

The surface of Chen Mo’s hazmat suit began to crack in a bizarre fashion. Beneath his skin, web-like crystalline patterns emerged, shimmering in the spectral light. They rose and fell with his heartbeat, as if some malevolent entity were slowly awakening within him. His eyes were filled with nothing but terror and despair.

As the scout ship carved an escape arc through the violet-mist-filled atmosphere, Lin Yu kept his eyes locked on his tactical watch, his knuckles turning white from the pressure, veins bulging on the back of his hand.

The jumping coordinates automatically stitched themselves together on the star map, outlining a chilling emblem: within a twisted hourglass, an Ouroboros greedily devoured a space-time vortex, as if heralding an impending apocalypse. Tiny streams of data flickered around the emblem.

Su Yao gripped the control stick, the energy shield on her combat suit’s shoulders crackling and sparking; it was on the verge of collapse, its surface mapped with countless fine fissures. She pulled up the AI report, her voice heavy with undisguised gravity: "That base’s defense system incorporates cutting-edge technology from at least seven different space-time civilizations."

In the holographic projection, the system architecture constantly rearranged itself, eventually forming a complex structure resembling a human neural network—eerie and mysterious—with strange, unfamiliar symbols flashing intermittently throughout the schematic.

Three hours later, the ship arrived at the target asteroid belt. Tens of thousands of asteroids hovered in the darkness, each rock covered in moss-like nano-defensive webs that writhed under the spectral light, like countless dormant monsters. Faint blue pulses flickered across the surface of these webs.

***

As the sensors locked onto the largest asteroid ahead, Lin Yu’s heart felt as though it might burst through his chest—the energy fluctuations emanating from it were perfectly synchronized with the mysterious crystals found in the ruins. A familiar tremor coursed through his fingertips and spread across his body, leaving his arm involuntarily numb.

He suddenly recalled an ancient proverb his grandfather had murmured repeatedly on his deathbed: "When the serpent of the hourglass opens its third eye, the cracks in all space-time shall be stitched together with blood." Cold sweat trickled down his spine, soaking his combat suit. He knew the true crisis had only just begun.

Su Yao activated the optical camouflage. The ship’s surface shimmered with water-like ripples, attempting to blend into the darkness, the ripples casting a faint silver hue under the violet light. However, 300 meters from the base, the quantum entanglement alarm suddenly blared. The shrill sound seemed to pierce their eardrums, and the alarm’s red light flashed incessantly.

"They can sense thought fluctuations!"

Chen Mo’s cry was drowned out by the metallic screech of twisting steel. Outside the portholes, the dead, silent asteroid field suddenly "came to life." Countless vine-like metallic tentacles burst forth from the rock, weaving into a massive trap in the void, secreting a thick, viscous liquid.

Micro-cameras densely packed along the tentacles flashed red, like billions of prying eyes, taking in their every move. The cameras rotated from time to time, tracking the ship’s trajectory.

As the ship narrowly avoided the spike-covered tentacles, Lin Yu saw fluorescent patterns—identical to those on the ruins' floor—emerging from the scorched sections left by the thrusters, as if mocking them, the patterns continuously extending. Now, the entire asteroid belt was shrouded in blood-red light. The base’s outer defensive shield slowly unfurled, its surface flowing with bizarre runes. Seven disc-shaped craft rose from the shadows of the asteroids, their cannons emitting the metallic groan of grinding gears as they rotated, sounding like a funeral knell from hell that echoed through the empty expanse of space.

Su Yao noticed that in the reflections on the craft’s surface, distorted and eerie shadows of the three of them from different space-times were vaguely visible, as if portending their impending fate. The shadows were in constant flux, shifting between clarity and blur.

Su Yao dialed the shock cannon to maximum power. The roar of the energy core made the dashboard vibrate violently, as if the entire ship were shaking; the indicator lights on the console flickered without pause.

"Prepare for a forced breakthrough!"

Just as the ship was about to collide with the defensive shield, Lin Yu’s tactical watch suddenly began playing an encrypted video automatically. In the footage, a figure wearing a snake mask was injecting black liquid into a crystal. The star map in the background was precisely the coordinates where they currently stood, marked with mysterious symbols. Most chilling of all, the neck exposed beneath the mask revealed the same crystalline patterns visible under Chen Mo’s skin. The truth seemed ready to break through, yet it left them frozen in dread. As the black liquid was injected, the crystal in the video emitted an eerie, baleful glow.