A Day Inside the Gate
There is no up, down, left, or right. There is no front, back, or future.
Lu Yuan's consciousness felt as if it had been thrown into a frantically spinning shredder, then roughly stitched back together, and finally thrown into boiling magma. Countless sharp, contradictory, and utterly illogical fragments of information, like billions of red-hot steel needles, relentlessly pierced his mind. He "saw" space fold into incomprehensible geometric shapes, time scattered like broken pearls, some rolling forward, some jumping backward, and many simply spinning in place, forming tiny, desperate cycles.
pain.
This wasn't physical pain; it was the pain of existence itself being denied, torn apart, and forcibly stuffed into the wrong container. His body was curled up, barely encased in a pale green cocoon of light spontaneously woven from "Primordial Qi" and evolved Blue Silver Grass. On the surface of the cocoon, fine pale golden patterns flickered like breathing, resisting the most direct erosion of rules and energy turbulence from the outside world. But deeper inside, those invisible shocks of information could only be withstood by his willpower.
Don't go crazy.
Lu Yuan clenched his teeth, blood seeping from his gums, the metallic taste instantly evaporated by the chaotic energy field. He forced himself to pull himself out of that omnipresent urge to scream and give up, like a drowning man grasping at the last straw.
He closed his eyes—if the act of closing his eyes still had any meaning in this place where there was no concept of sight—and immersed his entire mind in the most basic calculations and summaries.
His vast knowledge reserves from his past life became his only floating island. Soul Power circulation models, energy structure topology, spacetime curvature conjectures, information entropy theory... all available tools were mobilized, frantically processing the flood of chaotic data.
The first step is isolation.
He attempted to construct a "filter" around his consciousness, based on his understanding of his own Soul Power frequency and the characteristics of "Primordial Qi." The process was clumsy and painful, like weaving a fishing net by hand in a storm. He failed seventeen times; the cocoon of light fluctuated violently and almost collapsed. On the eighteenth attempt, a wisp of extremely weak, stable, and orderly Soul Power fluctuation, belonging to him alone, was finally peeled away from the chaos, forming a fragile "Order Domain" with a radius of less than half a foot.
Within this domain, the chaotic torrent of information was somewhat sorted out, and the sharp conflicts were temporarily neutralized. Although the outside world remained a chaotic hell, this small space became his base for breathing and thinking.
With a baseline, we can make observations.
Lu Yuan adjusted the "filter" to its most sensitive state and began to capture and analyze the nearest fragments of rules. Most of them were incomplete, filled with contradictions and self-denials. One fragment showed "gravity downwards," but another immediately followed, claiming "mass determines spatial curvature, and the curvature here is negative." There were also fragments about elemental affinity, energy conservation, and even causality, all fighting each other and in complete chaos.
But he discovered that these fragments were not entirely random. They seemed to originate from a vast, sophisticated, yet ultimately collapsed system, carrying the "scars" and "obsessions" of that system at the moment of its collapse. Some fragments even retained extremely faint "echoes of will," filled with resentment and despair.
Lu Yuan's heart stirred.
He began to try more proactive intervention. Not confrontation, which would be futile, but rather "guidance" and "returning to the right path."
He selected two tiny fragments concerning the "Second Law of Thermodynamics," contradicting each other: one described entropy increase, the other local entropy decrease. Lu Yuan didn't attempt to judge which was right or wrong—here, right and wrong might be pseudo-propositions themselves. He carefully used the stable Soul Power of his half-foot "Order Domain" as a "glue" and "buffer," gently "pushing" the two fragments towards each other, allowing their conflicting edges to touch, rub against each other, and then... in an extremely delicate state, achieve a temporary, dynamic "equilibrium."
It's like building blocks, or like searching for two stones that can just fit together in a rushing river.
It was a success.
The tiny equilibrium structure formed by the two fragments actually slightly reinforced his half-foot domain, emitting an extremely faint yet undeniably real aura of "stability." This aura, like a lighthouse, began to automatically attract other fragments of similar nature or those that could form a new equilibrium with it.
The process was maddeningly slow. Every attempt was exhausting, and failure was commonplace. But Lu Yuan didn't stop. Like the most patient craftsman, he painstakingly built his own "web of cognition" brick by brick in the endless chaos.
The sense of time was completely lost. It could have been several hours, or even days, or even longer. The cocoon of light outside seemed to have solidified a little more, and the pale golden patterns were clearer. Meanwhile, the "Order Domain" that Lu Yuan had built with himself as the origin had painstakingly expanded from half a foot to nearly three feet.
Within this small "safe zone," composed of countless fragments of rules in a temporary equilibrium, he finally gained a moment of "clarity."
Then, he "saw" more.
It's not about using your eyes, but rather through the deeper "historical information" carried within those initially pieced-together fragments of rules.
A magnificent vision flashed through his mind: countless figures clad in ancient robes stood in ruins far more complete and magnificent than the present, manipulating unimaginable soul-guided arrays. Their goal was not power or immortality, but... "calibration." In the vision, the rules of the world were depicted as a vast, slightly distorted "net," and their experiment aimed to create an "ultimate calibrator" to smooth out those distortions, allowing the world to operate on a more "perfect" and "efficient" track.
A tragic vision.
Then came the moment of loss of control: the core of the calibrator—likely this "Gate of Finality"—exceeded its design capacity. The process of reconstructing the rules spiraled out of control; instead of being smoothed out, it was torn apart and shattered. The experimental field, along with some of the researchers, was thrown into this Crevice Space the rules were broken. Desperate screams, the sight of bodies and souls annihilated under the conflict of rules, and the final moment when the survivors activated the stone door, using it as a "seal" and a "filter" to barely separate the out-of-control Crevice Space from the main world...
Lu Yuan's soul trembled.
He saw the original design of the Stone Gate—a complex and sophisticated combination of soul guides and runes, whose core function was indeed "calibration" and "stabilization". It was supposed to slowly absorb the chaotic rules of the Crevice Space, harmlessly process or reorganize them within it, and then feed the stable energy back to the main world, forming a virtuous cycle.
But in one corner of the design drawing, a huge, blood-red warning symbol was marked. Lu Yuan "read" its meaning: the filtering efficiency has a theoretical upper limit and will slowly decrease with core wear. Once the chaos accumulated inside the Crevice Space exceeds the threshold, or the filter efficiency falls below the critical point...
The consequences would be unimaginable.
At this moment, through the nascent, barely perceptible connection with the stone gate, Lu Yuan sensed a chilling truth: the stone gate's filtering efficiency had already fallen below that dangerous critical point. Although extremely slow, the most chaotic and corrosive fragments of rules and remnants of negative information in this Crevice Space were gradually seeping through the "cracks" of the stone gate into the main world outside.
Like a pool of ink that is constantly being polluted, slowly turning the clear water next to it black as it passes through a broken filter.
The scope may not be large yet, and the impact may be weak. But the trend is fatal and irreversible, unless...
Unless you repair or restart this "calibrator".
Alternatively, we could find a new and more effective way to "filter" or "correct".
Lu Yuan felt a heavy sense of mission weigh on his heart, mixed with the shock of discovering the truth. This was no longer just about his own life or the safety of his companions. Sealnd behind this door was a problem that an ancient civilization had failed to solve, a "wound of the world" that was slowly festering.
He took a deep breath—if this action still made sense here—and turned his gaze to his senses, to the "core" located "deep" in the Crevice Space, vaguely corresponding to the physical stone gate.
That was a more chaotic area, but it also contained the original Origin the Stone Gate's "calibration instructions." To truly influence this space, or even find a way to leave, he had to establish a deeper connection with that core.
The risks are obvious. His consciousness may be completely overwhelmed by the massive flow of information at the core, or it may be corrupted by the "broken rules" of the stone gate during the binding process, becoming another source of chaos. Even if he succeeds, his soul imprint will be deeply bound to this gate, perhaps meaning a responsibility he can never truly sever, or even some unknown limitation.
Is it worth it?
In a very short time, many images flashed through Lu Yuan's mind: his father Lu Qinghe's silent and steadfast back; his mother Lin Xiu's warmth as she sewed under the lamp; Shen Moxin's focused gaze behind her glasses; Su Yan's meticulous execution of orders; Lin Xiao's arrogant yet affectionate eyes; Yun Youzi's profound gaze beneath his aged face; Mo Chen's fervent dedication to his research; Li Wangye, Bai Zhi, Shi Jian... and those "Spark" yet to be truly ignited.
They are still outside. The world is still outside.
His path has never been one of self-preservation.
Just moments before Lu Yuan gathered his will, preparing to extend his "tentacles" towards the chaotic core and attempt a deep binding—
A faint, yet familiar, fluctuation that stirred his very soul wafted through the broken "filter layer" of the stone door.
It was Shen Moxin's Soul Power frequency! Although faint and fleeting, he wouldn't mistake that unique, rational yet resilient fluctuation. There were also several other familiar Soul Power auras belonging to his companions, seemingly located near the outer edge of the stone gate.
They came? They really risked coming down to provide backup?
Immediately afterward, another completely different, oppressive, and hostile wave of Soul Power also barged into his senses. Not just one, but one of them... its intensity was terrifying, carrying an undisguised intent to plunder and destroy, rapidly approaching the area where the stone gate was located from the outside!
They are enemies! And very strong ones!
Beset by internal and external troubles.
Binding takes time and absolute focus, allowing no room for distraction. Meanwhile, their external allies are facing a formidable foe, and the situation outside the stone gate is clearly precarious.
Lu Yuan's heart tightened suddenly.
Time is running out.