Fate's Choice: Livestream at the Start Summoning Billions of Ravens

Eight thousand meters below the water surface.

Fu Ningna's ten high-pressure water jets wove a forty-meter-long water net that enveloped the insect swarm below.

The five mutated isopods at the forefront simultaneously spread their legs, and the fourteen pairs of terminal crystal spheres released five sets of conceptual-level disruptive pulses, resulting in multiple vaporization and dissolution points appearing at the edge of the water network.

Funina's will repaired all the melting points in 0.3 seconds.

The excess energy released during the repair process was not wasted; it was directly channeled into the physical strength of the water network.

The density of the water network has increased rather than decreased.

The moment the net covered five isopods in front of her, she pulled it in.

Under her control, the water pressure within a five-meter diameter range soared to three times the normal value.

Two thousand four hundred atmospheres.

Cracks began to appear on the purple crystalline shell of the isopod, and the dark red fluid seeping from the cracks was purified one by one by her conceptual commands. The abyssal components were stripped from the water molecules and redefined as normal seawater.

Six seconds.

The five isopods were cleaned layer by layer from their shells to their cores, and the abyssal transformation was peeled away layer by layer. In the end, they shrank back to their normal size of thirty centimeters, lost their ability to move, and sank into deeper water.

Of the remaining nine, the three largest individuals, each over 25 meters in size, did not rush forward.

They retreated simultaneously, shattering all the purple crystal spheres at the ends of their abdominal legs.

The fragments spread in the water, forming a purple, misty area about 100 meters in diameter.

The physical laws of seawater within the purple fog zone are drastically altered. The dipole moment of water molecules is reversed, and water becomes a state of self-repulsion. Numerous micro-vacuum bubbles are continuously generated and collapsed within the fog zone.

Funinna's five-meter shield trembled violently under the erosion of the purple mist.

It wasn't that my defenses were breached.

She needed to maintain two sets of physical laws simultaneously within a five-meter radius to resist the external rule alteration, and resource consumption reached its peak since the dive began.

The mark between the eyebrows flickers intermittently.

Sweat dripped from his forehead and dissolved in the water.

Funina made a decision.

No longer clearing them one by one.

One-time coverage.

Continuous expansion consumes too much energy, but if all the power is compressed into a single moment, the coverage area can be stretched to its limit.

She clasped her hands together.

Then open it wide.

A blue spherical shockwave radiated outwards from her body.

This is not a physical shock wave.

It is a conceptual shockwave.

Within this scope, water is water.

This instruction is extremely concise, so concise that it requires no embellishment or addition; it is itself part of the rules governing the world.

The shockwave covered a spherical area with a radius of approximately two hundred meters.

The purple mist dissipated completely the instant the shockwave passed through.

The purple crystals on the nine isopods shattered simultaneously, and their giant bodies, deprived of the abyss's amplification, disintegrated and shrank within three seconds.

All done.

At a depth of 8,000 meters, the seawater within a 200-meter radius has returned to its clear, deep blue color.

All fifteen mutated isopods have been stripped and modified, and restored to ordinary deep-sea creatures before sinking to deeper depths.

Then came the price.

Funina stumbled on the blue water platform, the blue light of the mark between her eyebrows dimmed to almost invisible, and her ten fingers twitched uncontrollably for nearly ten seconds.

She braced herself against the platform with her knees to avoid falling, and leaned against the blue water wall, panting for nearly thirty seconds.

This is the fastest breathing rate I've had since the dive began.

Thirty seconds later, the blue light of the mark between the eyebrows slowly returned, but the brightness only recovered to 60-70%.

Funina reached into her coat and pulled out something sealed in a waterproof bag from the inside pocket of her coat.

She glanced down.

A macaron.

It was Zhou Ruo who stuffed the waterproof bag into her inner pocket before she dived. She didn't say anything at the time, she just let that hand stuff the waterproof bag in.

Funina opened the waterproof bag and took a bite of the macaron.

I chewed it three times.

The corners of her mouth curved slightly.

She resealed the waterproof bag and put it back into the inner bag, then stood up straight on the blue platform.

It continues to sink.

The Abyss Explorer.

Inside the sonic chamber, everyone was waiting.

The timer on the communication terminal is reset to zero.

Buoy signal received.

The assistant's voice was trembling when he read the data.

"Buoy number confirmed. Transmission depth: 800-meter relay layer. Final separation depth of the Hydro-God: 8,212 meters."

He swallowed hard.

"Status: Cleared. Noise interference level has dropped to level three. No new threats ahead."

The sono chamber fell silent for a second.

Then everyone slammed their fists on the table at the same time.

The sonic boomerang turned his chair around and punched the air.

The second-in-command stood up abruptly, his chair sliding backward and crashing into the bulkhead.

The communications officer took off his headphones, placed them on the table, and vigorously rubbed his face.

Zhou Ruo stood next to a folding chair in the corner, opened her notebook and drew a new line segment.

Article 6.

8,212 meters, noise interference level three, cleared.

Her pen tip paused at the end of the line for two seconds, then drew a small circle next to it.

There was no writing.

Sheng Na Chang flipped through the buoy number record on the table, his finger stopping at the last line.

He turned to look at Zhou Ruo and lowered his voice.

"Miss Zhou."

Zhou Ruo looked up.

Sheng Na's long lips moved slightly.

"According to the packing list checked before entering the water, this is the last buoy."

Zhou Ruo tightened her grip on the pen slightly.

"From now on," Sonic said softly, "we will no longer receive any direct signals from underwater."

The cheers in the soprano room were still echoing, but the corner where Zhou Ruo was suddenly so quiet that you could hear the sound of the pages being blown by the wind.

She looked down at the six lines on the notebook.

From 2015 meters to 8212 meters, there are six short lines, six sets of numbers, and an empty little circle next to the last line.

There will be no seventh item in the future.

Zhou Ruo closed the notebook and stuffed it back into the inner pocket of her life vest.

She walked to the door of the soprano room, opened it, and walked along the corridor toward the stern deck.

As I passed the entrance to the lower deck galley, the sweet aroma of butter and egg wafted out from under the door.

Louis is still making cream puffs.

She didn't stop.

As I walked onto the stern deck, the sea breeze hit my face.

The blue passageway, one meter in diameter, was still rotating quietly.

Same brightness, same rotation speed, same size.

The passageway is still open.

She's still down there.

From now on, no one knows where she is, what she has encountered, or whether she is in good or bad condition.

Zhou Ruo stood at the edge of the blue halo, the sea breeze blowing her hair back.

She reached her right hand into the inside pocket of her vest, her fingertips pressing against the hard cover of the notebook.

Pentagon.

Patterson closed the Colorado's operational report in the bunker conference room.

He read the sentence Lieutenant Colonel Hull wrote at the end of the report three times.

"I don't know how they did it."

The opponent's sonar beam was directional, without any fan-shaped search prelude. It immediately locked onto the Colorado's coordinates, bearing, depth, and speed, pinpointing it completely.

Patterson threw the report on the table.

His deputy sat across the long table, flipping through a stack of subpoena documents from the Senate Armed Services Committee.

"The closed-door hearing is scheduled for next Tuesday."

The deputy's voice was flat, but his eyes were constantly observing Patterson's expression.

"They want an explanation regarding Orion."

Patterson did not respond.

The assistant turned to the next page.

"The president received a message privately from the National Security Advisor."

Patterson's fingers paused on the table for a moment.

"What did you say?"

"Your position will be maintained for now, provided that no more uncontrollable military adventures occur during the extraordinary crisis."

Patterson leaned back in his chair, staring at the fluorescent light tube on the ceiling of the conference room.

"An uncontrollable military adventure."

He repeated those words.

The deputy closed the file.

"Sir, your current situation is that the Senate has its eye on you after the failure of Orion. The president has not replaced you for the time being due to the continuity of the crisis, but this window of opportunity will not last more than a few weeks."

Patterson's gaze shifted from the ceiling to his deputy's face.

"Your suggestion?"

"Cease all high-risk actions, buy time, and make adjustments after the extraordinary crisis enters the next phase."

Patterson shook his head.

"No."

The deputy's brow furrowed slightly.

Patterson pulled another document from the table and pushed it in front of his deputy.

"DARPA Deepsea Technologies' proposal, the Deepsea King unmanned submersible at the Guam test site, has an all-titanium alloy shell and is designed to operate at a maximum depth of 11,000 meters."

The deputy quickly scanned two pages of the plan.

"The cost is two hundred million US dollars."

"right."

Patterson tapped his fingers lightly twice on the armrest.

"Move it to the outer perimeter of the Chinese formation's anchorage area, maintaining a distance of at least 120 kilometers, and only conduct passive collection of acoustic and optical intelligence."

The deputy closed the plan.

"What are the differences between this mission and the one on the USS Colorado?"

Patterson's hand trembled slightly as he signed the instruction document.

"I don't need to get close to her, I just need to know what's on the seabed."

The pen tip paused on the paper for a second.

"Two hundred million dollars, this is the last chance."