Absolute silence.
It was not the thick, dead silence of the Eternal Corridor, steeped in malicious whispers, but a purer kind of emptiness, as though even time and existence itself had been drained away.
The Whisperer floated motionless in the center of the dark silver passage, stripped of all power and light, like a metal coffin forgotten in the river of time. Traces of interwoven pale gold and purple-black patterns remained on its hull, like burns left by its clash with the deep dream origin. They were the scars of the final collision between the light of the mindscape and deep dream corruption, frozen on its cold armor like an ancient mural.
Within the passage, the dark silver energy slurry still flowed slowly, but it seemed to have lost its former viscosity and corrosiveness. It had become like ordinary, faintly fluorescent water, gently brushing the ship's battered hull with an almost inaudible murmur, like a sigh. The enormous law crystals on either side no longer spun and collided violently. They stood in silence, the shadows and patches of light frozen within them seemingly subdued by the collapse of the deep dream origin, no longer radiating that heart-stopping malice.
This was the eerie, fragile tranquility that followed a brutal battle.
Inside the cockpit, the emergency lights had long since gone out. Only the exceedingly faint blue indicators remaining on the medical unit and a few central consoles flickered like ghostly flames. The air was thick with ozone, scorched metal, and a faint smell of blood.
Lin Ye lay slumped over the edge of a console, his body twitching faintly and uncontrollably from exhaustion and the agony in his soul. The origin starmark on his forehead had dimmed almost completely, as though it might go out at any moment. Yet the tiny