The Wizard of Truth: Starting with Analyzing All Things

Time seemed to freeze inside the bridge. Only the ghastly green light of the emergency lights outlined the stiff, sculpted silhouettes of the crew. On the main screen, the massive silver structure known as the "Silent Archiver" continued to flash its energy patterns with a constant, cold rhythm, like the heartbeat of a sleeping behemoth, each pulse striking the taut nerves of the Stargazer's survivors.

"Distance... 300,000 kilometers... Relative speed 0.5 kilometers per second, continuously approaching." Instructor Verna's voice was extremely low, almost a whisper, her eyes fixed on the passive sensor readings that had dropped to almost zero. Active scanning had long been turned off; at this moment, the starship was like a stubborn rock in space, drifting towards the behemoth solely by inertia.

Lowe's breathing nearly stopped. Nine percent of his energy reserves were utterly insufficient to support high-maneuverability evasion or another jump. At such close range, facing the unknown Static Court facility, 87% of his structural integrity was as fragile as paper. He could feel an extremely faint, wary resonance emanating from his personal key, but it wasn't directed at the "Archiver," but rather at the omnipresent, rigid force field of order permeating the surrounding space. This force field was like viscous glue, making every thought, every heartbeat, feel exceptionally heavy.

"It...is not responding?" Barton asked in an almost inaudible voice, his muscles tense, maintaining his fighting stance. Sweat trickled down his forehead.

"Hibernation monitoring status...it might really not have 'seen' us..." Elder Anderson's voice was equally low, with a hint of disbelief and relief. "Our energy output has dropped to the minimum. Although the damage to the hull is considerable, the energy leakage is slight, perhaps...just below its passive monitoring threshold."

"No, it's not that I didn't see it." Lina's voice trembled slightly, she hugged herself tightly, curled up in her seat, her eyes closed, her face even more pale than the green light of the emergency light. "It's 'seeing'... in another way... not with light, not with energy waves... it's 'sensing' the 'order' of this space... We... we're like a substandard, cracked stone, drifting towards a sophisticated automated sorting machine... It hasn't moved yet because we haven't entered the 'sorting' trigger range, or... our 'stone's' 'abnormal value' is still hovering on the edge of its tolerance range..."

Her words sent a chill down everyone's spine. Perceiving the world through "order"? That was exactly the style of the Silent Court! It was as if they had stumbled into a room governed by absolute cleanliness and order; any speck of dust, any wrinkle, was "abnormal." And now, their battered, energy-depleted starship, carrying "forbidden knowledge" and "the hunted," was probably the largest and most glaring stain in that room.

"Can we float over there without triggering its 'sorting' mechanism?" Lilith asked nervously, her hand unconsciously tightening its grip on the syringe containing a potent anesthetic.

"Trajectory predictions indicate that, based on current inertia, we will pass approximately 150,000 kilometers above the 'Archiver' structure in about 165 hours. For its size, this distance is practically a brush past it," Verna calculated rapidly, her brow furrowed. "But the problem is, is this 150,000 kilometers within its 'order-sensitive boundary'? We cannot know. Moreover, as we approach, the residual energy activity within our ship, vital signs, and even the faint psionic fluctuations generated by our own thought processes could become new 'stimuli.'"

One hundred and sixty-five hours, nearly seven days. During these seven days, they must maintain absolute silence, like a true space coffin. During this time, any accident—such as a hibernation system restarting due to overheating, someone experiencing intense emotional fluctuations due to excessive stress, or even just a slight stress noise from the metal of the ship due to thermal expansion and contraction—could become the fuse for an explosion.

"We can't leave our fate entirely to luck," Luo Wei finally spoke, his voice hoarse from holding his breath for so long. He forced himself to calm down, his brain working at an unprecedented speed. The insights he had just gained in the jump tunnel, the initial digestion of "A Preliminary Explanation of Star Laws," and the new understanding of the nature of the Static Court were like scattered puzzle pieces, rapidly colliding and combining in his mind.

"Professor Verna, does the data from the 'Spark Chamber' contain any more detailed descriptions of this 'order field' or the static court monitoring mechanism? Even just a few words?"

Verna immediately immersed her consciousness in the database connected to the "Silver Spark," quickly searching. A few seconds later, a glint flashed in her eyes: "Yes! Under the subcategory of 'rule contamination,' there are scattered records. It mentions that the monitoring of the Stasis Court is often based on a complex 'cosmological constant benchmark model.' Any 'variable' that deviates too much from this benchmark model will be marked. But this monitoring is not omniscient; it has 'blind spots'—first, it has low sensitivity to 'inactive energy' and 'highly inert matter'; second, it sometimes lowers the alarm level for complexes that 'conform to some kind of internal harmonious law' due to their internal 'orderliness,' even if the complex as a whole does not completely conform to the benchmark model; finally, and most importantly, its ability to detect 'information' itself, especially information that has been encrypted, encapsulated, or is in a 'dormant' or 'sealed' state, is greatly reduced unless the information actively engages in high-intensity rule interaction."

"Blind spot...inner harmony...encapsulated information..." Luo Wei chewed on these keywords, his eyes gradually brightening. The prototype of an extremely risky, yet possibly the only chance of survival plan was taking shape in his mind.

"I have an idea." He looked around at everyone, speaking slowly and clearly. "We can't just passively 'play dead.' We need to actively... 'disguise' ourselves as a 'low-threat variable' or... 'item to be archived' in its perception."

"Disguise? How do you disguise yourself?" Barton asked, puzzled.

"Using our control over energy and our understanding of the Star Key," Rowe looked at Verna, "Mentor, could you try to guide the remaining energy of the starship, in conjunction with the Star Key, to temporarily construct an extremely thin, highly 'ordered' stellar energy shield on our ship's surface? We don't need defensive capabilities; we just need its energy structure to be as regular and stable as possible, simulating the energy characteristics of... 'natural aging and dormancy of man-made objects,' to reduce our 'anomalies'?"

Verna pondered for a moment, then nodded: "We can try. The Star Key can provide a stable high-level energy template, and my manipulation of energy runes is sufficient to construct such a membrane. However, maintaining it requires a continuous energy output, albeit a weak one..."

"It's better than our own scattered chaotic energy and life fluctuations," Lowe interrupted. "Moreover, this membrane might be able to shield us from the leakage of internal psionic energy and information to some extent."

He then looked at Lilith and Lina: "Lilith, do you have any medicine that can temporarily and significantly reduce a person's metabolism, vital energy fluctuations, and even mental activity? Not lethal, but something like... deep hibernation or a state of suspended animation."

Lilith's expression changed: "There is... 'Deep Stagnation Agent,' which can induce a state of suspended animation where physiological functions drop to freezing point for forty-eight hours. However, the side effects are severe; upon awakening, there will be prolonged weakness and confusion, and it severely damages the recovery of mental strength. You don't mean to...?"

“Not everyone.” Lowe shook his head, his gaze resolute. “I, Barton, Elder Anderson, and I will maintain a minimum level of alertness to monitor and handle emergencies. You, Lina, Annie, and Instructor Verna will immediately use the potion to enter a state of suspended animation after completing the protective barrier. This way, the life and psionic signal sources within the ship will be reduced to a minimum, and the fluctuations in our three energy levels may be suppressed by that protective barrier and our own willpower.”

"This is too risky! If something goes wrong, the three of you won't be able to handle it!" Lilith said anxiously.

"So we need a second layer of disguise, or rather... misdirection." Lowe's gaze fell on the approaching silver behemoth on the main screen, a resolute glint in his eyes. "Elder Anderson, do we still have any of those low-value but energy-distinct wreckage fragments we brought from the Thorn Base, or... that undecipherable encrypted storage device from the assassin we captured and controlled by the Silent Court?"

Elder Anderson paused, then understood: "You mean... to throw out 'bait'? To create a more obvious, but insignificant 'anomaly signal' to attract its attention, or to make it classify us as some kind of... 'damaged space debris'?"

“That’s right.” Lowe nodded. “If we’re just a ‘quiet stone,’ it might ignore us, or it might suddenly ‘sort’ us out at the last minute. But if there are a few more conspicuous, yet equally ‘dead’ metal pieces floating next to our ‘stone,’ especially one that might carry a faint trace of the Court of Stasis’s own technology… wouldn’t it judge us as ‘worthless battlefield debris left over from a low-intensity conflict’? And thus lower our processing priority, or even just simply ‘record’ us instead of ‘eradicate’ us?”

This plan is bold and audacious. It deliberately exposes some "insignificant" anomalies to cover up its own core fatal anomaly. It gambles on the judgment logic of the "Silent Archiver" as an automated facility, and on its handling of "low-value, inactive, and order-trace remnants".

"I agree to this plan," Verna was the first to speak, though her expression was grave. "This is our only feasible option at the moment. The risks of passively waiting are immense. I will be responsible for constructing the outer protective membrane, and I will immediately enter a state of slumber once it is completed. Lilith, prepare the potion."

"I'll go prepare the 'bait'." Elder Anderson stood up, his movements slow but swift.

"I will monitor changes in external energy and be ready to respond to any fluctuations in the protective membrane," Barton said in a deep voice.

Lina bit her lip, finally nodded, closed her eyes, and began to suppress her spiritual senses with all her might, shrinking them to almost only circulate on the surface of her body, as if she were entering a state of tortoise breathing.

Although Anne was scared, she firmly stated that she would cooperate.

The plan was set, and it was to be executed immediately. Time was of the essence, and the cold silhouette of the "Archiver" was slowly zooming in on the screen.

Verna sat cross-legged before the control panel, her hands outstretched, and the Star Key floated before her, radiating a soft and stable glow. Using her own refined Star Speaker power as a guide, she directed the higher-level energy within the Star Key, channeling it slowly through the starship's remaining energy network to the ship's surface. This process had to be extremely precise; the energy output needed to be both almost completely still and to construct a sufficiently ordered thin-film structure. Sweat quickly beaded on her forehead; her mental energy was rapidly depleting.

Meanwhile, in the storage compartment, Elder Anderson quickly sifted through several metal fragments with relatively inert energy characteristics but unique material, as well as the still unbreakable encrypted memory from the assassin. He carefully tied them to a small, nearly depleted emergency energy bar brought from the base, setting it so that after moving a certain distance from the starship, the energy bar would intermittently release weak but detectable energy pulses at minimum power, simulating "natural energy leakage from the wreckage."

Lilith quickly prepared the "Deep Coagulation Agent," with a precisely calculated dosage that could reduce a person's physiological functions to freezing point within forty-eight hours, while protecting the brain and soul from permanent damage to the greatest extent possible. However, the side effects of this drug were still terrible, and it would never be used unless absolutely necessary.

An hour later, Verna swayed slightly, her face as pale as paper, but a hint of relief flashed in her eyes: "The outer protective membrane... is complete. The energy consumption rate... is within the estimated range. It can last... for about two hundred hours." She finished speaking with difficulty, took the potion handed to her by Lilith, and drank it down without hesitation. Then her body went limp, and she was carefully supported by Annie beside her, and placed on the shock-resistant chair that had been prepared in advance. Her breathing and heartbeat were almost imperceptible for a moment.

Lilith, Lina, and Annie also took the medicine one after another and quickly fell into a deep sleep, their vital signs dropping to the lowest level.

Inside the bridge, only Lowe, Barton, and Anderson remained conscious. The oppressive silence was broken only by the faint hum of the life support system operating at its lowest power and the deliberately slowed breathing of the three men.

"Prepare for decoy launch." Elder Anderson's voice was exceptionally clear in the silence. He carefully pushed the bundle of "decoys" out of an inconspicuous maintenance port on the side of the ship using a mechanical arm. After moving about 500 meters away from the starship, the emergency power bar began to work as expected, releasing an extremely weak but fixed-frequency energy pulse every few minutes.

"The pulse signal has been confirmed to have been sent," Anderson reported, while nervously monitoring the passive sensors.

The energy patterns of the "Silent Archiver" seemed unchanged. However, through the subtle sensing of the Star Key and his own perception of the "Order Field," Luo Wei vaguely sensed that the "flow of order" in that space seemed to have undergone an extremely subtle shift—like a small pebble stirring up almost invisible ripples on a calm lake, and the center of those ripples seemed to be the bundle of "bait" that had just been thrown out.

"There's a reaction... very faint... it's... 'scanning' the decoy..." Lowe whispered, his heart pounding.

Time ticked by. Driven by inertia, the starship slowly closed the distance to the "Archiver." Two hundred thousand kilometers… eighteen thousand kilometers… one hundred and fifty thousand kilometers…

The pulse signals released by the bundle of "bait" flickered continuously and regularly, like fireflies in the dark. The "archiver's" "attention" to it seemed to be limited to the initial scan deflection, after which there was no further reaction, as if it tacitly accepted its existence and classified it as "background noise" or "low-level anomaly to be recorded".

But the three of them dared not relax for a moment. Their own starship, shrouded in that fragile "orderly" protective membrane, was like a larger, silent shadow, sliding toward the side of the behemoth.

100,000 kilometers... 80,000 kilometers...

Outside the porthole, the massive form of the "Silent Archiver" already occupied nearly half of the field of vision. Its smooth, silver surface, upon closer inspection, was not flawless; rather, it was covered with extremely fine, integrated circuit-like patterns. Fluctuating pale blue energy flowed within these patterns, forming a complex, dizzying geometric design. An invisible, chilling sense of oppression, even through the ship's hull and the protective membrane, clearly penetrated, sending shivers down the spines of the three and making them feel stiff.

"Keep your mind focused, don't look directly at those patterns, and don't try to 'understand' them!" Lowe whispered, withdrawing most of his senses and leaving only basic vigilance. He felt the flow of stellar energy within his body become sluggish, as if bound by invisible chains of order. Barton's battle aura was suppressed within his body, almost unable to be released. Elder Anderson, on the other hand, did his best to maintain steady breathing, resisting the drowsy, forced "order" of the mental erosion.

50,000 kilometers... 30,000 kilometers...

The closest approach is imminent. The starship will pass approximately 15,000 kilometers above one of the prominent ridges of the Archiver structure. On a cosmic scale, this distance is practically face-to-face.

"Warning! High-precision focused scan detected! Source: Archiver surface, seventh district, energy pattern convergence point!" The Star Core's passive warning suddenly rang in the three people's minds. Although the volume was turned down to the lowest setting, it was still as loud as thunder!

Here it comes! In the end, it was given a more thorough "look"!

Luo Wei instantly pushed his star power to its limit, not to resist, but to maintain the "orderly" stability of the protective membrane on his body surface. At the same time, he suppressed his own life fluctuations and mental activities to the limit, repeatedly thinking: "Harmless debris...collateral damage...inactive...low value..."

Barton's forehead veins bulged, his teeth clenched so tightly he used all his willpower to lock his fighting instincts and boiling battle aura inside his body, simulating the silence of a "stubborn rock".

Elder Anderson closed his eyes, as if in deep meditation, his breathing almost ceasing.

The focused scan, like an invisible probe, slowly swept across the starship's surface. Lowe could clearly "feel" its coldness, precision, and utter lack of emotion. It swept over the ship's damaged armor, over the hastily reinforced cracks, over the faintly glowing "orderly" protective membrane, over the deathly silent interior compartments and the three "weak" life signals…

The scan lasted approximately three seconds.

For Luo Wei and his two companions, however, it felt like three centuries.

Then, the scanning beam moved away and was redirected back to the bundle of "decoys" that were still regularly releasing pulses. It seemed to linger there for a moment before disappearing completely.

The energy patterns on the surface of the "Archiver" continued to flicker at their usual rhythm, as if nothing had happened.

"Scan complete. No further hostile activity or energy buildup detected." The Star Core's report left the three of them nearly exhausted.

The starship continued drifting, inching past the enormous silver shadow. Twenty thousand kilometers… fifty thousand kilometers… one hundred thousand kilometers…

When the "Silent Archiver" finally became a distant silver dot behind the main screen and was gradually swallowed up by the starry background, the air inside the bridge, which had been extremely oppressive, seemed to suddenly begin to flow again.

"Did...it work?" Barton's voice was dry and hoarse, and his muscles trembled slightly from excessive tension.

"We're safe for now." Elder Anderson let out a long breath, his back already soaked with cold sweat.

Luo Wei slumped into his chair, his face pale, but his eyes burned with the fire of relief after surviving the ordeal, and a deeper sense of gravity. He glanced at his companion, who had fallen into a deep sleep beside him, and then at the direction of the vanished silver dot on the screen.

They narrowly escaped death, thanks to their understanding of the enemy's mechanics, meticulous camouflage, decisive action, and a considerable amount of luck. But the very existence of the "Silent Archiver" served as a chilling alarm bell, constantly reminding them that the shadow of the Silent Court had already infiltrated many corners of the cosmos. The γ-7 star system was far from the safe haven they had imagined. The waters here were likely far more unfathomable than the remnants of shattered stars.

"Activate minimum power survival and remain concealed. Wait for Lilith and the others to awaken," Rowe gave the order, his voice weary but firm. "Then, we need to reassess this star system and find a place as soon as possible where we can restore our energy, repair our starships, and... be sufficiently hidden."

The "Stargazer," the lone vessel that had narrowly escaped the jaws of the Silent Beast, bearing numerous wounds and with only 9% of its energy remaining, continued its slow journey into the deeper, more unknown darkness of the γ-7 star system. The starlight ahead seemed to carry the chilling, lingering order of that silver behemoth.