Chapter 3: Crossing the Line

Professor Su realized that achieving this goal required embracing entirely new modern scientific concepts and a series of bold, innovative experiments. Neutrinos were the key to unraveling numerous mysteries in physics and the golden key to unlocking the treasure trove of new energy.

At this moment, he had no time to consider anything else; his gaze was fixed intently on the enormous, transparent container lying horizontally in the operation room before him. The container had been filled with purified KC20, a blue liquid whose mysterious azure hue seemed to hold boundless energy.

Professor Su gave the order, and assistant Liu Qing decisively pressed the yellow button. Instantly, a powerful laser shot into the rectifier like a bolt of lightning.

The purified KC20 liquid began emitting a faint blue glow, as intense energy rapidly condensed within the container. The surrounding air seemed to tremble slightly under the weight of this formidable power.

Next, Su Chunyang issued a second command, and assistant Zhou Huifang unhesitatingly pressed a red button.

At that moment, a beam of neutrinos silently infused into the shimmering blue liquid. The once calm fluid began to violently deform and expand, twisting into strange and distorted shapes.

Everyone’s hearts leapt into their throats, tension mounting to the brink of suffocation, fearing that the container might suddenly explode under the assault of such immense energy.

Yet, the course of events defied all expectations.

The thermometer used for monitoring the experiment reached its peak and then malfunctioned. The red hydraulic column, which had been steadily rising, suddenly plummeted like a runaway rocket, no longer indicating any abnormal high temperature. Even more astonishingly, the gauge indicating negative energy rapidly dropped, the needle as if pulled by an invisible force, wildly descending to lower and lower levels.

While everyone was still reeling from this sudden upheaval, an inexplicable black wind began to whirl inside the laboratory without warning.

This black wind surged violently, howling as it swept through, accompanied by a strange, eerie sound, as if from another unknown world, sending chills down everyone’s spines.

This uncanny sound seemed to break free from the shackles of time, traversing the vast chasm between ancient and modern eras, crashing into the present moment like a shooting star racing across the sky.

It roared past snow-capped mountains and glaciers, crossed vast grasslands and pastures, swept over countless people and creatures, and finally burst unimpeded into the laboratory. The overwhelming impact shook every piece of equipment violently; the needles on the instruments oscillated wildly, sounding piercing alarms.

Amid the howling wind, besides a deep, wild echoing sound, there appeared faint traces of something resembling an incantation or chant.

Still shaken, everyone strained their ears to discern the origin and meaning of the voice.

“Thunder shakes, the gate opens; earth’s fire emerges from the abyss…” The voice was low and mysterious, as if emanating from an ancient altar, imbued with an ineffable power.

Su Chunyang furrowed his brow, his eyes reflecting doubt and unease. He instinctively pushed up his glasses, quietly pondering that this sudden anomaly clearly surpassed their expectations. This seemingly ordinary experiment appeared to have entangled them in some mysterious force beyond scientific understanding.

He glanced around and saw that the assistants’ faces were etched with shock and fear, the entire laboratory enveloped in a tense and oppressive atmosphere.

“Everyone, don’t panic. Stay calm!” Su Chunyang forced a calm tone and shouted loudly, attempting to steady the group’s nerves. “Record all data and anomalies. This might be a completely new field we have never encountered—every detail is crucial.”

Under his guidance, the assistants gradually regained composure and began working methodically.

They fixed their eyes on the various instruments, fingers flying over keyboards, meticulously logging every data point and change throughout the experiment.

Yet, the eerie voice showed no sign of abating; on the contrary, it grew clearer and louder.

“Thunder shakes, the gate opens; earth’s fire emerges from the abyss…”

The black wind inside the lab intensified, scattering sheets of paper into the air, flickering the lights on the equipment as if they could extinguish at any moment.

“Professor Su, what is happening?” assistant Liu Qing asked, her voice trembling with fear.

Su Chunyang did not respond immediately. His gaze remained locked on the swelling, distorting KC20 blue liquid as a strong premonition rose within him: this experiment might have opened a gateway to an unknown world, and what awaited them could be an unprecedented challenge.

Amid a mysterious and ethereal resonance, the voice seemed to gain life, fracturing into different layers. The high notes soared almost like shouts yet retained rhythm, as if singers from primordial times were proclaiming ancient, solemn oaths to the vast heavens, striving to awaken a mysterious deity long dormant for a thousand years.

The sound gripped everyone’s souls, ensnaring them utterly. The melody twisted and turned, touching the heart deeply. At times, it thundered like a stampede of horses, iron hooves clanking, powerfully releasing boundless energy, as if breaking through all barriers in the world; at others, it flowed like a babbling brook, winding and gentle, delicately expressing inner tenderness and hope.

Every inflection and pause was a masterstroke, perfectly stirring the listeners’ hearts, drawing them irresistibly into this mysterious, awe-inspiring atmosphere, as if transported to a fantastical realm beyond the mortal world.

Yet, far away in the distant twenty-first century, no one knew the thrilling tale hidden behind this strange and wondrous voice.

Long ago, the Longshan people, desperate to escape the relentless pursuit of the Haraha tribe, under the leadership of their chieftain Nuka and grand shaman Niseguo, had thrown their entire clan’s might into a desperate gamble. They sought to harness the ancient, mysterious power of nature to activate the Heavenly Furnace Golden Gourd.

This was their only hope for survival.

A massive bronze structure rose from the earth, two stories tall. The elder shaman Niseguo stood atop it, seeming to merge with heaven and earth, exuding a solemn and majestic aura.

His crown was adorned with multicolored feathers fluttering wildly in the wind, crackling softly. In his hand, a weathered purple-red vine staff bore the marks of time yet exuded a faint mysterious power.

Niseguo’s lips moved swiftly as he chanted, “Thunder shakes, the gate opens; earth’s fire emerges from the abyss…”

The ancient incantation flowed steadily from his mouth, low and forceful, as if proclaiming the Longshan people’s unyielding spirit to the heavens and awakening the long-slumbering mystical power.

At the tip of the Golden Gourd, a shimmering black bird rested silently, like a star fallen to earth, radiating enchanting light.

As the grand shaman’s chant reached its zenith, the sky suddenly darkened, silver lightning slashing through the clouds like dragons bursting from their lairs. In the blink of an eye, they wove a vast celestial net, tightly enveloping heaven and earth.

The roaring thunder was deafening, each clap seeming capable of shattering all things, instilling deep dread.

At this critical moment, the black bird atop the Golden Gourd blazed with a radiant light so dazzling it was impossible to look at directly, as if a mysterious cosmic force had been awakened, endlessly drawing in the immense power of heaven and earth, as though intent on absorbing the world’s entire might.

At Niseguo’s feet, dark red molten iron surged like a raging river, billowing heat like the fury of the earth’s depths ignited.

The Longshan people gathered closely around the Golden Gourd, their eyes firm and voices united as they sang the “Tutu Ballad.” Their song was melodious and powerful, filled with hope and longing for the future. Simultaneously, they performed the unique “Tutu Dance,” their steps light yet vigorous, each movement infused with ancient wisdom and mystical power, as if communicating with the spirits of heaven and earth, seeking their blessing to face the pivotal moment that would decide their entire clan’s fate.

Meanwhile, in the icebound highland laboratory of the modern world, the once stable large-scale experimental equipment suddenly malfunctioned without warning. First came a low hum, then the indicator lights on the devices extinguished one by one, and the machinery ceased operation entirely.

Su Chunyang and his assistants were thrown into chaos, their faces etched with panic.

Assistant Zhou Huifang reacted swiftly, rushing to the computer, her fingers flying over the keyboard as her eyes fixed on the screen, desperately trying to identify the cause of the malfunction from the complex data.

Zhou Huifang soon uncovered a startling fact.

After the neutrino beam, aided by the intense laser, reacted with the KC20, a total of 28 antineutrino particles were generated. Yet, within the rectifier, only five antimatter particles were successfully contained. The rest of the particles and antiparticles seemed to vanish as if evaporated into thin air.

Upon hearing this, Su Chunyang’s scalp tingled, his hair standing on end, his face full of shock.

In his heart, he knew all too well that should the lost neutrino antimatter particles fall anywhere, they would annihilate with matter, leading to unimaginable consequences.

He was acutely aware that they had crossed a dangerous threshold. Yet, strangely, the surrounding world remained eerily quiet, with no abnormal reactions—as if nothing had happened.

This calm unsettled Su Chunyang even more. He began to wonder whether Earth still existed intact.

With a heavy heart, Su Chunyang slowly walked to the laboratory window and looked out.