The shockwave from Earth's "registration" hadn't even faded when the Crucible dropped another bomb:
[ Within 24 hours, Earth–Local will receive its first mission. ]
No details. No explanation. Just that one promise, hanging over the planet.
The Fifth Polar Archaeology Team of Longguo was already on its way back from Antarctica, carrying the one thing everyone now wanted—
The raw data of the Deep Polar Signal.
The research vessel Haichi rose and fell along the Indian Ocean South Corridor, its bow cutting through ugly, choppy swells. On the open deck, a neat row of shockproof crates was lashed down:
[ Sub-Ice Samples – 1140 km East of South Pole ][ Original Spectrum Backup A ]
The crate in the center was double-locked, wrapped in red tape:
[ NO COPYING – SOURCE DATA ][ To Longdu General Academy – Core Compute Center ]
Inside the ship, the team captain was writing on a whiteboard that'd gone slightly soft from the sea air.
Her name tag now read Song Pei, not Shen Pei.
Longdu had sent a high-priority encrypted directive that morning: Miguo and Luosha had started reconstructing the personnel files of everyone in the Fifth Team.
Recommendation: temporarily change characters in your names.Reason: confuse foreign smart search systems.
So Shen Pei became Song Pei with a single stroke. Just a different character.
But the meaning was clear—When they returned, they wouldn't just be reporting on an "Antarctic survey."
They'd be reporting a civilization-level incident.
Song Pei finished writing:
[ Long Calendar 2050-10-31 15:07 ][ Indian Ocean South Corridor – 15°S, 52°E ][ Return Status: Normal ][ Crucible: Silent ]
The last line bothered her.
Since Earth got forcibly "enrolled" last night, the Crucible hadn't said a word beyond that 24-hour mission note. It just… watched.
It felt less like silence and more like a surgeon standing outside the operating room, gloves on, waiting.
Her earpiece crackled.
"Haichi, this is Longdu General Academy."
It was the same cool female staff officer from last night, voice lowered.
"Your current track has been locked by Miguo's space-based recon. Their fast-attack vessel Xingcai'e has changed course. ETA forty minutes. They will likely approach under the name of 'joint Crucible investigation' and request to board."
"They want the raw data," Song said.
"Yes." A pause. "Our stance: do not hand it over. You must transmit the core spectrum and geostress curves to us before they board. Use any channel available. If they open fire—"
"We can't win," Song cut in. "I know."
She dropped the marker, turned, and ran for the quantum comms room.
At the same time, a spotless white ship—flying the flag of some international humanitarian NGO—was angling across the swell straight toward Haichi's bow.
Xingcai'e.
On its bridge, golden-haired commander Lanlan scanned the briefing one more time, then said what she really thought:
"First-hand data like this doesn't belong in Longguo's vault."
The orders from Midu had been brutally simple: Take it.
The sea got rougher, waves hitting Haichi hard enough that the deck shuddered.
"Unidentified vessel approaching from ahead," the lookout yelled. "Paint looks like a humanitarian outfit, but the track is wrong!"
Song stepped out of the comms room just in time to see the ship—too clean, too white, too… designed—cutting across their path.
"Shipwide alert," she barked into her chest mic. "External Defense Level One. Backups B and C to lifeboats one and two. Stand by to drop."
She hadn't even finished speaking when the white ship dropped three black speedboats.
Low, angular hulls, fitted with wave-cancellation gear. Three black fish knifing toward them.
The open hailer crackled:
"Haichi, this is Miguo Indian Ocean Joint Rescue Division," a woman's voice said—in perfect Longyu. "We have received an order from the Crucible Council to collect all initial relic data. Please cut engines and prepare for data handover."
"We have received no formal documentation," Haichi's captain replied, voice ice-cold. "Please present—"
He didn't finish.
One of the speedboats bumped Haichi's ladder, and three fully armed soldiers from Miguo were already on deck, moving like they had practiced this a hundred times on a model of this exact ship.
The leading officer even smiled, polite and professional.
"Ladies and gentlemen, no need to be nervous," he said in Longyu. "We only want the raw data. We won't harm anyone."
"The raw data has already been sent via quantum channel to Longdu," Song said evenly. "You won't catch it in transit."
His smile thinned.
"Our sensors show you still have three crates with untransmitted contents."
He tipped his chin.
Behind him, his team raised their weapons—not to fire, but to cover—as they moved toward the shockproof crates.
"These records are Longguo sovereign science assets," Song's tone dropped, steel behind every word. "They are not yours to take."
"This is now a civilization-level event," the officer shot back. "They are not just yours, either."
The air went sharp.
Then he moved first.
One of his men rolled a black sphere onto the deck. It popped open with a metallic snap, blooming into a dome of faintly glowing force that swallowed the middle third of the deck—crates included.
Haichi's deck cannon roared.
Rounds slammed into the shimmering barrier and ricocheted, sparks showering. A few Longguo sailors went down, hit by their own deflected bullets.
"Song Dui! We can't punch through!" someone shouted.
Song didn't answer. She was already sprinting for the bridge, then into the main control room. She yanked open a watertight window and looked out.
Her stomach sank.
Far off, Xingcai'e had opened its bow hatch. Two long black tubes eased into view, depressing slightly to aim at Haichi's waterline.
Anti-ship torpedoes.
The band crackled again, Miguo's public channel now in Lanlan's own voice.
"Haichi, I will say this one last time. Surrender all data. We only want your records, not your lives."
"You've already engaged and injured our crew," Haichi's captain growled. "This is an attack—"
"This is a civilization security action," Lanlan cut him off. "Do not escalate it to a state-on-state confrontation."
The message behind her words was simple:If you dare say "Miguo attacked us" on an open frequency, this becomes a war.If you swallow it, this is just an accident at sea.
Song drew a long, steadying breath and hit the emergency command switch.
"Listen up," she said, voice going shipwide. "As acting commander for Fifth Archaeology Team, I order the following: Crate A—external upload. Everything else, destroy. All personnel prepare to abandon ship."
"Upload where?" someone yelled, panic cracking his voice. "The Longdu quantum channel's jammed!"
Song looked at the silent golden icon on her personal device.
"Upload it to the Crucible."
The ship went quiet.
The Crucible was an external system. Someone else's hand.No one liked the idea of throwing their most valuable secrets into it on purpose.
But right now, the only network Miguo couldn't jam…was the Crucible's.
If Miguo wanted to hoard the data?
Fine.
Let the entire universe see it instead.
Song called up the dormant interface.
Muted gold flared to life.
[ Detected: Earth–Local – Longguo – Antarctic Relic Data Packet ]
Upload Target:– Public Civilization Archive– Blu Taskforce Shared Cache– Relic Match Repository
Select targets.
"All of them," Song said.
Public Archive is visible to all observing civilizations, including higher-tier entities.Proceed?
"Proceed."
Uploading…
On deck, inside the forcefield, the Miguo soldiers' tactical visors suddenly overlaid an unfamiliar double-language alert:
Earth–Local Node is performing Public Upload.Source: Longguo – Antarctic Archaeology TeamContent: Revelation-Class Relic Initial SurveyTime remaining: 00:00:09
"They're throwing it into the Crucible!" one of them shouted. "Sir, they're dumping the files to public! Everyone's gonna see this—"
On Xingcai'e's bridge, Lanlan's expression iced over.
"Fire," she said.
"Commander—"
"Data's compromised regardless," Lanlan snapped. "At least make sure the witnesses sink with it."
Two black torpedoes spat from under Xingcai'e's bow, leaving twin white scars on the sea, arrowing straight at Haichi.
Inside the control room, Song saw the Crucible progress bar hit 100%.
Upload Complete.
Matching: Taurus Sector – Blu Civilization – Current Status…
Match: Antarctic Deep Signal ≈ Blu Civilization "Ghost-Frequency Encirclement" Event
Blu Record: 0 Wins / 2 Losses
Next Loss: Erasure
Earth Civilization has been assigned as Blu's "replacement rookie."
Please prepare for battle.
Then the torpedoes hit.
The impact tore through Haichi's belly.The ship lurched like something had punched it from below. Men, crates, equipment went airborne. Screams tangled with the roar of escaping air and seawater.
"Abandon ship—!" the captain roared.
He didn't finish. The deck had already tipped hard to starboard.
Song slapped the activation patch on her chest.
With a sharp pop, her seemingly normal polar parka inflated into the full Xuanlin-3 light combat dive suit. Silver-black plates slid into place; wrists, ankles, neck sealed. A helmet bloomed from the collar and snapped down over her head, visor lighting up with HUD readouts:
[ Xuanlin–3 Light Submersible Armor – Online ]
She vaulted over the railing and hit the sea.
Cold knifed around her, immediately blunted by the suit's systems. Micro-thrusters behind her calves kicked in, jets of water shoving her downward.
Upward was Miguo's territory now—gunboats, helos, angry sonar.
Downward, they hadn't closed the net yet.
Thirty meters.Fifty.One hundred.
Light bled away. Explosions above became faint, tortured drumbeats.
"Xuanlin–3, passive sonar," Song said.
[ East-northeast 1.2 km: Miguo "gray whale" class stealth sub, approaching wreck site. ][ Southwest 3.7 km: Unknown structure echo detected. ]
"Unknown structure?" Song blinked in the dim.
[ Structural profile similar to Antarctic signal source. ][ Suggestion: scan and upload. ]
She turned southwest, kicking hard.
In low-light mode, the darkness resolved into something enormous.
Three rings, each tens of meters across, interlocked and half-buried in the seafloor. Perfect, unmarred surfaces. In the gaps between them, faint low-frequency light flowed like liquid.
A second Revelation-Class Node.
Song raised her wrist scanner with shaking hands.
[ Upload Target: Crucible Public Archive ]
Uploading scan…
Confirmed: Revelation-Class Relic – Distributed Node (2)Status: Under Observation.
Warning: Enemy Civilization "Miguo" naval assets active in your area. Advise immediate retreat.
Crucible didn't bother with euphemisms.It just labeled Miguo as "enemy civilization" in the log.
"Copy," Song said. "Request one-time underwater jump assist."
[ Permission denied. ][ You are not a civilization administrator. ][ Suggestion: Request assistance from current Earth Beacon 'Meat-HEAD-1'. ]
"Request you my ass," Song muttered, and shoved herself into a deeper current, letting the dark hide her.
If she made it back to friendly waters with Node Two scanned and uploaded, Haichi wouldn't have died for nothing.
During the same hour, Crucible hijacked every screen it could reach on Earth.
No fancy graphics. Just simple black text on a stripped-down interface:
[ Crucible – First Public Disclosure ]
Earth–Local Civilization: Registration – SUCCESSFUL.
Automatic Match: Taurus Sector – Blu Civilization.
Blu Level: 2 (Lowest Tier).Current Record: 0 Wins / 2 Losses.
Next Loss: Erasure.
Earth–Local will join as Blu's "replacement rookie."
Initial relic data provider: Earth–Local – Longguo – Fifth Antarctic Archaeology Team.
Current Earth Beacon: MEAT-HEAD-1
(Note: Random beacon name cannot be changed.)
In Longdu's war room, everyone stared at the last line.
Three seconds of dead silence.
Then a unified, heartfelt groan.
"…It's still him."
In Luosha's underground HQ, someone swore so loudly the translator flinched.
"Who the hell is he?"
In Miguo's joint defense center, the match log from Xingcai'e had barely hit the system before a four-star's voice cut in, like ice water.
"You sank the vessel that provided the data?"
Lanlan's jaw clenched. "They made it public first. We could only—"
"Silence," the general snapped. "Your behavior is visible to all civilizations. The Crucible does not care about 'internal disputes.' It will only log that you obstructed relic surfacing."
For the first time since she'd taken command of this misson, Lanlan felt cold in a way the ocean hadn't managed.