Origin Chapter Ten: Touching the Edge of the Universe

The group followed the general and Deputy Qin into a bright corridor. The hallway glowed with a milky white light, gentle and pure, enveloping everyone in a delicate radiance that seemed to cling to their bodies as they walked.

It was the old man’s curiosity that prevailed; Los reached out, brushing his hand against the shimmering aura. To his astonishment, he felt it tangibly, as if stroking his own skin, each sensation registering deeply within him. He turned, surprise etched across his face, and glanced at Zaku. Zaku, too, looked at Los, but quickly shifted his gaze, feigning indifference as he engaged Deputy Qin in conversation.

Finding himself ignored, Los decided to play the expert, disregarding the advanced technology. Suddenly, a realization dawned on him—no matter how deep the secrets, even those that once seemed unattainable, the general would eventually share everything with him.

This newfound confidence changed Los’s demeanor; his stride transformed, taking on the swagger of a street tough. Zaku, unable to contain himself, burst out laughing, his mirth and spittle aimed straight at Los’s neck. Los caught on instantly, turning back with a serene smile. Zaku stopped laughing at once, knowing the old man was annoyed and fearing a scolding. Though his face was composed, the slight curl of his lips betrayed him. Los tugged at his own ear—a customary imperial gesture for disciplining children, and the strictest kind. When Zaku was young, seeing his father make this gesture meant he would hide until his father’s anger subsided.

Zaku dared not so much as smile now, head hung low. Deputy Qin, observing quietly, allowed himself a quick grin before resuming his military composure.

The next ten minutes passed in silence.

Gradually, a door appeared ahead, opening slowly to reveal a deep gray wall marked with a glowing blue-green totem at its center. As they approached, a short, dark-skinned middle-aged man emerged from within. His gaze was calm yet piercing. He was the enemy leader the general had spoken of—Lian Ping.

Lian Ping extended his right hand toward the unfamiliar but familiar young-faced general. The general stepped forward, and their hands clasped tightly. Lian Ping’s eyes flickered with emotion; he understood that the general had considered the greater good, abandoning all honor and reputation for the empire, everything lost to the executioner’s blade. Though the people still remembered him fondly, the general’s head had fallen before their eyes. Lian Ping knew this sacrifice was a calculated risk, a desperate gambit; the general would not truly die in that massacre. Yet, the pain lingered. During the search mission, the general had pressed ahead, disregarding whether the reincarnation system would work, risking everything after only a few animal trials. On the day of the operation, Lian Ping was placed under communication silence by the general’s orders, and raged in the farthest reaches of the cosmos, torn between worry for the general and the relentless pursuit of cosmic mysteries, hoping to return with answers.

Effort bore fruit: hours ago, at the universe’s edge, Lian Ping made a discovery. Throwing caution aside, he used temporal leaps to hurry back to the base. Upon arrival, he was told there had been a minor mishap—the general had not returned to his original body but had instead inhabited another young man. Lian Ping had anticipated this and asked no further questions, quickly assembling the base’s top scientists for a closed one-hour meeting. The scientists emerged smiling, as if multiple technical hurdles had been overcome.

Fifteen minutes earlier, Lian Ping convened a rapid five-minute meeting. After discussion, the scientists gave definitive answers, prompting the general to break off his conversation with Los and Zaku and head to the central reception hall.

The general gripped Lian Ping’s hand tightly and said, “Thank you, Lian Ping.”

Lian Ping simply nodded, saying no more, then linked arms with the general and led him toward the reception hall.

Los watched and nodded to himself, murmuring, “Lian Ping is truly a trustworthy man.”

The group entered the central reception hall, where the base’s principal leaders and chief scientists were already assembled. The hall was starkly simple, devoid of furniture—emptiness was merely an illusion.

As the group reached the center of the hall, several rings of light appeared on the floor, each encircling a person. The rings rose, transforming into seats perfectly suited to each individual, clustering around a slowly elevating luminous table.

Once everyone was settled, Lian Ping stood up from his light chair, surveying the room before focusing on the general. His speech quickened, eager to advance the meeting. “General, you have worked hard. Our search mission yielded significant results. The moment I uncovered these mysteries, I was deeply shaken. It was a discovery beyond words, but for reasons of time and necessity, I’ll save that for last. First, I’d like the base’s chief science officer to explain the cause of the recent base malfunction.”

Lian Ping gestured to a handsome young scientist, “Please, our esteemed Mr. Li Jimo, deliver a briefing.”

Applause sounded as Li Jimo rose, his gaze steely.

Zaku nudged Deputy Qin, whispering, “He looks about thirty—how is he so highly respected?”

Los leaned in, curious as ever.

Deputy Qin replied in a low voice, “Li is nearly a hundred. He’s been modified with Yulan Hengsi technology, formation cluster robots, and other things you haven’t encountered. Now, Li could kill several Green Source beasts with his bare hands. Pay attention to what he says.”

Los and Zaku exchanged glances; Zaku pursed his lips, as if thinking he should have indulged more earlier.

Li Jimo cleared his throat, his voice resonant and seasoned, “Everyone, at the moment the general was executed, the base experienced a massive energy surge, preventing our reincarnation system from accessing the temporal dimension to retrieve the general’s life energy. We kept trying, and eventually, many command robots completed their tasks. At the moment of execution, our formation cluster robots fused with the reincarnation machine system, instantly completing the preliminary task. But the base remained unstable—energy fluctuations hindered the recovery process for the general’s body replication. The disturbances intensified, severely affecting base operations. A large number of interference systems occupied the plaza, disrupting command channels, preventing normal transmission and operation. I had to order the reincarnation system to randomly preserve the general. Fortunately, we had rehearsed for this possibility and used the strongest signal to break through interference. Once the system received the command, the energy reaction system crashed; no data or evidence indicated the cause or damage point, leaving us unable to repair. Our base is still shrouded in mystery—our energy source remains unknown.

After receiving the general’s communication, we determined the reincarnation system couldn’t penetrate the shielding, so it sought out a young body for concealment, preserving the general until the right moment. When the special forces returned the general’s body, it was empty.

The good news is, the base’s systems now run perfectly, the load system delivers greater energy output than before, allowing us to manipulate time dimensions up to five hours ahead, though we still can’t return to any past moment.

That is my summary of the base incident and our new findings. Other issues remain under investigation; we have no further explanations at this time.”

Li Jimo turned to the general.

The general stood, saluted Li, and said, “Thank you, Li. Please sit.”

Li Jimo bowed slightly, honoring the general’s sacrifice, then resumed his seat.

Lian Ping stood again, habitually scanning the room to show respect, then spoke, “Ladies and gentlemen, the energy surge this time was unrelated to the base itself. During the surge, our passage rate through the time dimension increased thousands of times. In just hours, we traversed an unquantifiable number of light years. Please, look…”

As he spoke, a boundless dark space appeared before them. In the distance, faint lights flickered, blurred yet beckoning.

As everyone stared intently, suddenly, threads of intense light flashed along a track, darting into the distance and vanishing. More beams followed, scattering and disappearing just as swiftly.

Lian Ping waved his hand, bringing the blurred domain closer.

He meditated, enabling perception mode for everyone present.

As the shared vision drew nearer to the glowing blur, the image jolted, as though colliding with something. The scene changed: several soldiers in lightweight star armor appeared, floating toward the glow. The perspective switched to a soldier’s reconnaissance device. The soldier reached out, slowly touching the obstruction ahead.

The seemingly void space yielded a palpable resistance—a wall, though not solid. When the soldier struck it, no force returned; all energy was absorbed. He activated a spotlight, hoping to penetrate it, but the light was absorbed completely, not a single ray escaping.

Lian Ping spoke, “At first, we thought it was a mysterious planet in the universe, lacking gravity or any tension matter. But when we sent exploratory robots back a hundred million light years, we discovered the barrier was boundless. Reluctant to give up, we retreated another billion light years and finally understood: this might be the edge of our universe. Beyond it lies another universe, perhaps countless universes outside ours.”

“We tried many methods, but could not break through the barrier or glimpse the other universe. In the end, we left some robots to observe the flickering lights.”

“The exploration fleet continued, but instead of wandering blindly, we searched along the universe’s edge, hoping for unexpected discoveries. Six teams spread out in different directions. After hours, three fleets found results within five hundred million light years: ancient ships, records, and remains of prehistoric creatures.”

“Most importantly, one ship contained a living specimen. Sadly, it survived less than ten minutes. We had a brief conversation, but didn’t understand it at the time.”

“On the return journey, we decoded the ancient being’s language. Reviewing the video, we realized it was giving us command codes, hoping we’d restart their system and inherit their legacy.”

“Comparative analysis showed these ancient technologies and beings were not the base’s original masters, but life forms tens of billions of years younger. We’ve yet to find the base’s true owners, but among the data, we uncovered a revelation: remember those beams of light?”

Everyone nodded.

Lian Ping steadied himself, then declared, “Those beams are souls—from a different universe!”

“What?”

Except for the few scientists already informed, everyone—including the general—rose from their seats, eyes fixed on Lian Ping, barely breathing, awaiting his explanation.

Lian Ping gestured for them to sit.

“Yes, another characteristic of life: the soul. According to our current information, souls from all universes drift through various realms, including ours…”