Chapter Seven: A Sleepless Night
Since the near outbreak of a world war eighteen years ago due to the A01 gene serum, China established its Space Force.
Internationally, it was claimed that China sought to dominate the world. All talk of the Space Force, of defending against possible extraterrestrials, was dismissed as nothing more than an excuse to expand military power.
China denied these claims every year.
Yet, it was undeniable—China’s Space Force was formidable, arguably the strongest military unit on Earth.
And Space Force Base One, the first of its kind, could rightly be called one of the safest places in the world.
...
Inside the command center of Base One.
Commander Ye Guangyu was lighting a cigarette for a middle-aged officer with short hair and a stern face.
“Silver Dragon, I’m entrusting this mission to you—do you blame me?”
The officer took the cigarette, drew deeply, and replied, “The First Squadron is the Space Force’s elite. If we don’t take on this mission, who will? And you watched the broadcast—the old men and women aren’t afraid to die. Are we, as professional soldiers, supposed to fear death?”
Ye Guangyu gave his shoulder a gentle pat.
“Silver Dragon, you’re the one I trust most. I knew you’d answer this way. I leave them all in your care.”
“Don’t worry. As long as we’re alive, we’ll protect them.”
His tone was casual, as if such things were only natural.
Ye Guangyu said no more.
If the entire advance team of ten thousand were wiped out, the nation would plunge into grief—including himself.
As the saying goes, an army in mourning is bound to win.
A grieving China could unleash tremendous power.
If these people survived and returned, having passed through this ordeal, they would all be brothers-in-arms. Their influence would naturally unite the nation around its leadership.
Whichever outcome, China would amass enough strength to face the coming risks.
“Commander, the transport has arrived.”
A Space Force soldier’s voice came from outside.
Ye Guangyu responded, “Take them to rest. See they’re well cared for—good food and drink. Let them recuperate. We’ll gather at one thirty tonight.”
He glanced at the officer beside him.
“You take your men and prepare as well. And remember—memorize every contingency plan.”
“Rest assured.”
The officer replied, crushed out his cigarette, and strode away.
...
One thirty in the deep night.
In an underground plaza within Base One, ten thousand horizontal metaverse pods were arranged with flawless precision.
Cameras lined the plaza’s perimeter.
Many of the country’s most important figures would watch a live broadcast of tonight’s events, issuing commands to the nation as circumstances unfolded.
In truth, not only China but every nation on Earth was watching.
After all, this was a matter concerning all of humanity.
...
Chen Nian followed the group into the underground plaza.
The advance team of ten thousand had already been assigned numbers; his was 0418.
“Everyone, please check your physical condition. If you’re well, enter your designated metaverse pod according to your number,” Ye Guangyu’s voice rang out through the microphone.
Chen Nian studied the layout of the pods and quickly found his own.
It was identical to the one at home, the newest model.
The only difference was that this pod was equipped with intricate monitoring devices—every breath would be tracked.
He opened the pod door and carefully lay inside.
Perhaps because he often immersed himself in virtual worlds, the moment he entered the pod, his heart grew calm.
Military base, alien metaverse, dangerous mission—he put them all out of his mind.
It was as if the pod was a private world, a small universe belonging solely to him.
He closed his eyes, savoring the tranquility.
...
He didn’t know how much time had passed when Ye Guangyu’s voice came through the pod’s speaker.
“It’s now two fifty a.m. Please activate your metaverse functions.”
Chen Nian complied, activating the pod.
A familiar interface appeared before him, but at the end, a new portal had been added.
“???”
“Countdown to activation: 9:18”
“9:17”
...
The seconds ticked away, but Chen Nian felt no anxiety.
It was strange—he felt that as long as he lay in the pod, he could face anything without fear.
“In nine minutes, the elite First Squadron of our Space Force will enter with you. Captain Wang Silver Dragon will lead the advance team. Vice captains will be Dr. Zhou Zhicheng and Mr. He Huai’en. Listen to their instructions and guidance.
Though we’ve emphasized the dangers of entering the alien metaverse, it’s most likely you’ll enter safely.
So don’t be afraid.
If it’s confirmed that it’s as safe as Earth’s metaverse, our three hundred thousand Space Force members will follow.
If they enter safely, the metaverse will reopen across China.
In summary, the chance of encountering real danger is quite low...
Furthermore, you don’t need to control entry—the system will automatically send you in.”
...
“Five minutes left.”
Ye Guangyu watched the ten thousand horizontal pods, rubbing his hands intermittently.
Even as the Space Force commander, his heart raced at such a moment.
Those inside the pods felt it even more.
Monitoring devices showed nearly every heartbeat accelerating wildly.
...
One minute remained.
Thirty seconds.
Twenty seconds.
Ten seconds!
Nine!
Eight!
Seven!
...
When Ye Guangyu counted down to one, all the pods lit up simultaneously—everyone had entered the portal.
A new countdown appeared beneath the portal.
“Portal closure countdown: ten
Nine,
Eight
...”
Seeing this new countdown, Ye Guangyu was shaken.
Portal closure countdown?
Wouldn’t this mean that after ten seconds, no one else could enter?
And if the portal closed, could those who entered ever return?
A rush of thoughts and words flooded his mind.
But there was no time.
So when he finally spoke, it was only ten words:
“Take care, everyone... May Heaven protect China.”
Two...
One...
The portal closed.