Chapter 946 — Real or Illusion

Gaoyang stood deep within the vortex, and this cold, dead, uncanny world still hung motionless around him, motionless as though it had not changed in millions of years.

A single human being, as insignificant as a mote of dust on this battlefield.

He raised his head and saw the colossal dragons wheeling across the sky around the metal tower, circle upon circle, the flames and frost and thunderbolts they released all frozen in the air—and against that backdrop of a shattered-glass sphere, everything seemed warped and distorted, like ink flung wildly across paper.

Were those dragons still alive? Had they died in the real history, or were they truly frozen here in this slice of time and space, or did they still live out in the world beyond, carrying memories of this battlefield, surviving somewhere?

A host of reflections and conjectures welled up in Gaoyang's heart for no clear reason, but his unease over his present situation left him no leisure to dwell on matters so remote. He forcibly reined in his thoughts, steadied himself first, and then began searching the eerie "battlefield ruins" for anything that might help him escape his predicament.

This frozen slice of time and space was plainly abnormal. The core of the raging Eternal Storm could not naturally contain such an isolated pocket of space; and since it existed, some force must be sustaining it. Gaoyang could not guess the principle behind it, but he felt that if he could locate the "anchor point" of this space, he might be able to change his circumstances.

In any case, there was nothing else to try.

Clinging to that sliver of hope, Gaoyang gathered his spirits and pressed on, searching for a route that would bring him closer to the metal tower at the vortex's center.

The surrounding ruins and phantom flames were layered thick upon one another, but they were not without gaps to pass through; he simply had to choose his direction with care, for the waves and the wreckage structures at the vortex's center were intricate and interlocking, a maze in three dimensions, and he must take care not to lose himself completely within it.

And as he continued toward the vortex's center, he could not help glancing back at the colossal "attackers" around him.

Those "attackers"—mountain-sized, wildly varied in form, every one of them bearing some powerful symbolic feature—stood like a host of awe-inspiring sculptures around the motionless vortex, frozen in the posture of a single instant. Though they no longer moved, from their dreadful, savage shapes alone Gaoyang could feel an oppressive weight that set his heart trembling, an endless malice and an almost frenzied hunger to attack. Why these attackers and the dragons who stood as guardians should have erupted into so savage a war, he did not know—but one thing was certain: this had been a bitter struggle with no room for turning back.

In truth, Gaoyang had already half-guessed the identity of those attackers—he had some experience in such matters, after all—but lacking evidence, he chose to draw no conclusions.

If he could still reach Talongde in safety, he hoped to find some answers there.

After a brief rest and reflection, he pulled back his gaze and continued toward the vortex's center.

He had already spotted a route that might be clear—a steel beam extending from the armor plating on the tower's flank. It had probably been part of some supporting framework, but had been cleanly severed in the attackers' assault; one end of the collapsed framework still joined some platform on the tower, while the other had plunged into the sea, and its landing point did not seem far from where Gaoyang now stood.

It was immensely broad and thick—large enough to serve as a bridge that could carry Gaoyang to the very heart of the vortex.

After threading his way for a time among the clusters of phantom, motionless flames, the frozen waves, and the petrified wreckage, Gaoyang confirmed that the direction and route he had so carefully chosen were correct—he reached the end of that "bridge" where it sank into the sea, and gazing forward along its broad metal surface, he saw that the road to the metal tower now lay open before him.

Before setting foot on the "bridge," Gaoyang first steadied himself, then gathered his mind as tightly as he could—he first tried to reach his satellite body and the Firmament Station, and confirmed that both connections were intact. Though he was at present outside the "sight boundary" that neither satellite nor station could monitor, at least it gave him some peace of mind.

Then he turned his attention back to this place and began searching nearby for something else that might resonate with him—perhaps another relic left by the Voyagers, perhaps some ancient installation, perhaps another Eternal Slate.

He still remembered how he had fallen—the accident had come right after he suddenly sensed, from the eye of the Eternal Storm, the resonance of a Voyager relic and heard those "verses." And now he had fallen into this storm's eye; if that earlier perception had not been an illusion, then he ought to find here the thing that resonated with him.

Perhaps it was the key to changing his present situation.

After several minutes of mental focus, Gaoyang suddenly opened his eyes.

He had indeed sensed it—and just as he had expected, the resonance came from ahead, from the direction of the metal tower; and that was precisely the very center of the whole vortex, of the entire frozen space-time, of the Eternal Storm itself.

Gaoyang strode forward and without hesitation set foot on the "bridge" that joined the sea to the metal tower, racing swiftly toward the tower's upper levels.

With the way ahead clear, covering that seemingly long slope took Gaoyang very little time; even slowed somewhat by his divided attention to that faint "resonance," he soon reached the far end of the metal framework—near a protruding structure on the tower's exterior, the massive metal structure had been snapped in two at its midsection, and the fallen framework happened to rest upon a platform that encircled the tower's outer wall. This was as high as Gaoyang could reach on foot.

He leapt down from the bridge-like metal framework onto the slightly canted encircling platform, and then, keeping his sense of the "resonance" alive, he began to study his surroundings with curiosity.

This colossal metal construct was the most intriguing thing on the whole battlefield—though it looked like a tower, Gaoyang was certain this "tower" had nothing to do with the "towers" left behind by the Voyagers; it bore none of the Voyagers' style, and it gave Gaoyang no sense of familiarity or resonance whatsoever. He guessed that this metal construct might have been built by the dragons who circled above as guardians, and that it was of great importance to them—which was why they had defended this place so desperately. But... what exactly was it for?

He reached out and touched the steel shell beside him; it felt cold to the touch, and he could not tell what material it was made of, but one thing was certain: the technology required to build such a thing was far beyond the reach of present human civilization. He looked all around, but found no entrance to this mysterious "tower," and so had no way to explore its interior.

He walked to the edge of the encircling platform beneath his feet and peered down—it was a dizzying vantage, but for Gaoyang, long accustomed to looking down on things from high above, it was still a friendly and familiar one.