Silent Ark

Chapter 32: The Return Journey

As Yao Chong passed through the waiting hall, he unconsciously closed his eyes for a moment.

A grayish-white sky.

A suspended sovereign entity.

But as the plane ascended, he saw something new.

Sovereign entities are not evenly distributed.

They have a structure.

It has layers.

At the very bottom—closest to the ground—are those slowly floating, shapeless things.

But above them, higher still, there is something else.

Smaller.

Denseer.

More—orderly.

Like a grid.

Like a grid made up of countless fine lines spread across the sky.

At each intersection of the lines, there is a tiny, shimmering point of light.

Yao Chong opened his eyes.

"Zichong?" Liu Pan noticed the change in his expression.

“They have structure,” Yao Chong said. “They’re not just floating; they have layers. The bottom layer consists of the large, shapeless ones, like the Lord of Pride. Above that is a grid, like a surveillance network, with a node at each intersection—the One of Sound and the Weavers.”

How many this time?

Yao Chong closed his eyes and counted.

Then I gave up.

"Countless, at least several million, possibly more."

Yao Chong had already closed his eyes when the plane took off.

The gray-white sky slowly receded from his view.

The boundary of the water stain is clearer when viewed from the air—an irregular, blurry green area embedded in an ever-expanding grayish-white.

Like a puddle of water.

Water stains that are drying.

He opened his eyes.

The plane has already passed through the clouds.

The cabin was quiet.

Other passengers were sleeping, watching movies, or staring out the window.

No one closed their eyes.

No one knew that the water stains underfoot were shrinking.

He leaned back in his seat with his eyes closed.

The grid stretched to infinity above him.

Millions of nodes.

Each one is flashing.

He recalled what Chen Dunli had said.

"The observer is also part of the system."

He understands now.

It is not a philosophical metaphor.

It is a physical fact.

Being able to see the sovereign entity with your eyes closed—this is not a "superpower" bestowed by nature.

This is more like the permissions granted to the observer by the system.

A passive, unremovable permission that you can never pretend not to see.

He opened his eyes.

Outside the window are clouds.

Normal, white clouds, edged with gold in the sunlight.

Very beautiful.

He closed his eyes.

Grid.

node.

A gigantic, suspended form.

The dry area was filled with densely packed, wriggling things that looked like rotten flesh.

It's also very beautiful.

A beauty that makes you want to scream.

The plane landed at 3 a.m. Beijing time.

Yao Chong thought someone would come to pick him up—after all, during his months at CERN, global physical anomalies had made headlines countless times.

A person who survives the core area of ​​CERN is a high-value target in the intelligence system of any country.

But he didn't expect it to come so quickly.

Before the jet bridge was fully connected, three people in dark uniforms were already standing at the cabin door.

It wasn't airport security—those uniforms had no insignia, no shoulder patches, and no distinguishing features to identify the unit affiliation.

The only thing that can be confirmed is that they are very professional.

Posture, eye contact, and hand placement are all trained.

"Mr. Yao Chong, Mr. Liu Pan, Ms. Shen Ruozhi," the leader said in a flat voice, as if reading a list. "Please follow us."

"Where to?" Liu Pan asked.

You'll find out.

Yao Chong glanced at Shen Ruozhi.

She nodded slightly.

They followed the three people out of the terminal.

They didn't use the normal exit—they went through the employee entrance, and then there was a black van without license plates.

No one spoke in the car.

Twenty minutes later, the car stopped in front of an inconspicuous gray building.

There were no signs, and it looked like the archives of some public institution.

They were led into a conference room.

A table, four chairs, and a monitor that is off.

There is one more person.

She stood by the window with her back to the door.

Short hair, thin shoulders, and a dark blue uniform.

She was wearing the same clothes as the three people at the door, but she had a small badge on her collar—shaped like an eye.

"You can sit down," she said.

The voice sounded familiar.

That voice.

That tone.

That kind of "I'm smarter than you, but I don't want you to know I know" tone.

The last time he heard that voice was six years ago.

High school graduation ceremony.

She was giving a speech on stage, while he was sleeping in the audience.

After she finished her speech and stepped off the stage, she passed by him, pinched him hard, and said in a voice only he could hear, "Yao Chong, your snoring is much more entertaining than the principal's speech."

She even forgot that they were no longer in the same class and sat directly next to him until the teacher reminded her to return to her own class's area.

Shen Qingci.

She turned around.

Six years.

She has changed a bit—her chin is sharper, her eyes are colder, and her posture is straighter.

But his smile hasn't changed.

That kind of "I'm laughing at you, but I'm also laughing at myself" kind of feeling.

"Long time no see," she said.

"haven't seen you for a long time."

"You've gained weight."

"You've lost weight."

"That's because I'm busier than you." She walked to the other side of the table and sat down, placing her hands on the surface. "You've made quite a splash at CERN. Of the seventeen physical anomalies worldwide, you're the only one who survived from the center of the anomaly."

"He's not the only one," Yao Chong said. "Liu Pan is also there."

"Yes, Liu Pan." Shen Qingci glanced at Liu Pan, "The ability to connect vision and 'hear' the scanning waves of the sovereign entity."

Liu Pan's expression changed. "You know?"

"We know a lot," Shen Qingci said. "Everything you experienced at CERN—the Decameron, the whale fall that caused the collapse of the laws of physics, the sacrifice of Mr. Chen Dunli—we have records of it. Not from you, but extracted from the system logs."

"System logs?"

"A protocol called BOB—the Existence Boundary Observation Protocol—has been broadcasting data externally while you were going through the Decameron. We intercepted some of it."

She paused for a moment.

"You're not the only ones researching this."

Shen Ruozhi spoke up: "Cousin."

Shen Qingci looked at her. "Ruozhi."

"What organization are you referring to as 'we'?"

Shen Qingci did not answer directly.

She took a thin folder out of her uniform pocket and placed it on the table.

The folder has no title.

There is only one number: JS-009.

"The Ninth Division," she said. "You don't need to know the full name. You just need to know—we are the official agency of China handling 'unconventional physical events.' We were established thirty years earlier than CERN."

"Thirty years?" Yao Chong frowned. "There were no physical constant anomalies back then—"

"Who said there wasn't?" Shen Qingci's tone was indifferent. "Do you think the calculation of pi only happened a few days ago?"

Yao Chong fell silent.

Shen Qingci opened the folder.

There was only one piece of paper inside.

The paper contained only one line: Project Silent Ark

"Is this the name you came up with for this project?" Liu Pan asked.

"It wasn't us who came up with it," Shen Qingci said. "It was Chen Dunli."

Yao Chong's breath hitched. He seemed to recall the phone call he made to his teacher in the early hours of the morning on the day he discovered the abnormal data on pi.

Chen Dunli—

"Before the Decameron, Chen Dunli had contacted the Ninth Academy through academic channels at the Institute of Theoretical Physics, Chinese Academy of Sciences," Shen Qingci said. "He submitted a document titled 'The Ark of Silence.'"

She pulled a second sheet of paper from the folder.

Yao Chong took it.

Handwritten.

He recognized the handwriting—horizontal strokes were straight and vertical strokes were upright, but the "left-falling stroke" and "right-falling stroke" were slightly upturned.

Chen Dunli's handwriting.

"The laws of physics are the skin of the system. The skin is thinning. When the skin is completely peeled off, the system will execute a cleanup protocol—not for a specific region, but for the entire universe."

"The only solution isn't to repair your skin. It's to leave."

"Construct a space carrier capable of housing billions of people. Use warp drives to create a dark zone—a region from which light cannot escape—to obscure the sovereign entity's observation. Under the protection of the dark zone, navigate to another habitable planet unaffected by the system."