People in Terra, governing a weird little country

The planet-like pupils of the [Preserver] slowly moved towards an ordinary corner among the silent sarcophagi. Then, the giant mechanical eye seemed to be pierced directly by the tip of a neutron pulse and it turned its gaze away as if escaping.

The program of the [Preserver] has told him countless times that there is only a mass of lifeless but incorruptible rotten meat in the hibernation device, but Trevor Friston still doesn't want to look at it directly.

No matter how perfect the machinery and programs are, there will be unknown bugs. Similarly, there is always a softest spot in the human heart.

Maybe escaping is indeed shameful, but it is also useful.

Just think of it as reducing the burden of this crumbling consciousness on the emotion regulation module. Over tens of thousands of years, the frequency of collapse of this module is really too high, so high that the [Preserver] doesn't know whether it is regulating itself or repairing itself.

[I will continue to wait. The mission of the Preserver may have ended, but as Trevor Friston, "human", only complete death can end my mission. Until that day comes, I will keep waiting.]

[This file has been recorded. The saver is Trevor Friston.]

After terminating the recording program, the [Preserver] raised his eyes as usual and cast his gaze towards the ceiling which was always lit with a dim light.

This light was specially designed and adjusted by him, Trevor Friston, before entering the sarcophagus, in order to ensure that his compatriots who woke up from long sleep would not have their fragile eyes harmed by the overly dazzling light. But at this moment, this dim light could only remind Trevor Friston of the dim light in the morgue of a social service agency called a funeral home in ancient times.

Trevor Friston hasn’t been there, but he’s in it right now.

A long silence condensed in the air of the Stasis Center. Trevor Friston was about to interrupt the visual link and enter standby mode, when suddenly, the dim light changed in an unexpected way!

The eternal stillness, the place where mankind (the Creator) rests forever, its dim lights suddenly turned scarlet, dazzling and disturbing.

Trevor Friston's mind suddenly focused. He knew what this situation meant - something was trying to force its way into the stasis chamber!

In one millionth of a second, Trevor Friston's computing system came to the conclusion that his heart was beating faster than its fastest pace in a million years, even though he no longer had that organ.

But at the same time, it only took him a moment of excitement for the repaired emotion control module to play its role diligently. The power of forced calmness quickly controlled his unimaginable emotional fluctuations, making him realize the mistakes in his excitement - no, that's not right, the person who came was not a human!

The Stasis Station, a bunker built three thousand meters underground, adopted all the means available to the surviving human civilization at that time. Its solidity was unquestionable. In order to destroy it, Ed's Heaven Fulcrum had to shoot down an all-destroying beam directly from low-Earth orbit!

This is to guard against possible plate movements, possible meteorite impacts, possible awakening of giant beasts, and unpredictable damage caused by stagnation.

But ultimately, it's not meant to protect against people.

Humans can enter the Stasis Institute. The few people who were in the Terran star field at the beginning, the Prophet, Precious, Trevor Friston, Luo, and Ed, have all entered their identification codes into each other's projects to ensure that as long as one project is successful, the others can also use it smoothly. In addition, some special servants with the background of human civilization, such as the little dark green-haired servant Ama-10 created by Precious and the Prophet when they were in love, can also be authorized to enter.

The entry of these people will not affect the normal operation of the Stasis Center. The lights here will not change color, and warning reminders will not be repeatedly played in the mind of his central brain.

If it's not a human being, then what is it?

Observer? No, the Observer has no entity, not to mention that countless years have passed since Nirvana. How could He cast His gaze on such a lifeless tomb?

Behemoth or beast master? No, it shouldn't be either. Trevor Friston has already opened the observation around the Stasis Center and is approaching the machinery of the Stasis Center - he tentatively calls that thing which is even more rudimentary than a child's toy a machinery. Its energy level is far inferior to that of a behemoth, even the beast master for viewing.

What is this thing? What does it want to do? This thing is just a smash into the outer wall of the Stasis Institute, causing an explosion, which probably won't have any effect on the Stasis Institute, right?

Trevor Friston manually shut off the alarm and watched through the monitor the thing approaching the stasis chamber.

He did not immediately reach out to slap the unexpected visitor to death, but began to observe her movements.

A bored giant began to observe the bugs that accidentally broke into his castle.

Thankfully, the giant was gentle enough.

On the other side, Kristen, who had spent more than a month sneaking to REM Billiton to take the drilling machine license test, jumped off the drilling machine he bought, dusted himself off, took off the safety helmet that was not very friendly to his big ears, and looked up at the building in front of him that seemed to be embedded in the stratum.

The eternity of time has not left even the slightest trace on its outer wall. The structure without any welding gaps makes it impossible to tell the construction principle of this building. Not only that, Christen's plan to take out an electric drill from the drilling rig and try to remove a piece of material from the wall for analysis also failed. This electric drill, produced by Rhine and said by Nastie to be very useful, broke down at an alarming speed, and on that wall, there was no hole, not even a white mark.

It's like scratching an itch.

Maybe it's even worse than scratching an itch.

"Tsk!"

Christen smacked her lips. She had worked so hard to move Kekao away from this area, taught herself archaeology knowledge, obtained an archaeology certificate, an excavator certificate, and a drilling machine license, and dug three thousand meters underground by herself. She didn't come here to stare at a turtle shell-like wall in a daze!

It's not time to be discouraged yet. Try a few more times! Find a few more ways! If Mariam is right, then the mysterious signal under Tremont that echoes the Star Picking Plan should come from this fortress that has never been heard of and has not been recorded in any records!

The greatest achievement of the Star-Picking Project, the recording from the barrier layer, was taken away by Saria. Christen was extremely angry, but she had no choice because she couldn't beat Saria.

But if I can’t beat Saria, can I still beat a wall?

This is the last and thickest wall between her and the sky, between her and the universe, between her and the stars. She will definitely find a way!

Having made up her mind, Christen did not stay here for too long. She put on her safety helmet again, climbed onto the drilling rig, fastened her safety belt, started up this cutting-edge Columbia technology, and left the bunker.

The purpose of this drilling has been achieved. She did find the source of the suspected mysterious signal. As for how to break through the wall, she can make other plans.

Anyway, she had plenty of time and only needed to keep thinking about how to break through the wall. However, Saria, who stayed in Rhine Life, had a lot more things to consider. How to deal with the questions from congressmen, how to find Christen, and how to open a branch in Kjerag were all troublesome matters.

All I can say is that people who don’t go to work are really crazy, and those who dare to skip work are really prepared to die if caught.

Well, let's prepare some explosives first. If the equivalent is too small, it probably won't work, but if the equivalent is too large, it's a bit difficult to buy. Otherwise, why not just take out the entire explosives lab and make it yourself?

For Christen, this was not difficult. All it required was time and ensuring the secrecy of the laboratory.

He couldn't be discovered by the Colombian police, otherwise the magazine might be emptied. He couldn't be discovered by Saria, otherwise she might not even have a chance to have her magazine emptied.

"It's New Year's Day already. I hope I can make it in time. I promised Ernst that I would go to Kjerag in February."

Kristen muttered quietly.

She was also concerned about the project at the Dome Research Station, and compared to the mysterious signal here, she was more concerned about that side.

After all, no matter how mysterious the mysterious signal is, it is only suspected to be related to the sky. Even if she breaks through the wall and finds the source of the signal, she may only be able to obtain some information about the sky indirectly. The second phase of the Star Picking Project and the Dome Research Station are her hard work, and they are the towers where she can truly touch the stars with her own hands.

It doesn't matter if she fails once. Christen is never afraid of failure. Besides, she didn't climb the tower herself that time, right?

Just start over!

"Ernst, wait till I come back!"

With fighting spirit in her eyes, Kristen stepped on the accelerator.

After Kristen rumbled away in her small drilling machine, all that was left was a pile of dirt and mud, as well as a confused [Preserver] who had watched Kristen's actions throughout.

"what is that?"

"Humanity?"

"But... why does she have ears like that? And that tail, it looks fluffy, just like the animal friends we used to keep in Taros... It doesn't look like a hair accessory or some weird fashion."

"Also, what was she just mumbling? What language was that?"

There are too many questions in my mind, but the logical chain of the [Preserver] has inevitably deduced a fact:

New language, new images, and the crude but reliable machinery that dug its way here.

She may come from a new civilization.

After the catastrophe, a new civilization emerged.

Trevor Friston felt a little complicated for a moment.

It seems to be a happy thing that the disaster that destroyed the previous civilization has passed and a new civilization has been born. This shows that the disaster has not extinguished the hope of civilization.

But he couldn't be happy.

Indeed, the disaster did not completely destroy the concept of "civilization" itself. The lumberjack swung his axe and chopped down a thick, thousand-year-old tree, but the branches that fell to the ground grew new buds after a spring rain. This endless cycle is really moving.

But the disaster did destroy them, destroyed the tree itself.

Watching the figure with long golden hair disappear in front of the stasis station, Trevor Friston did not choose to activate the stasis station's weapon system to destroy the life that might disturb the tranquility of him and the "cemetery", but he did not call out to her either.

He hesitated. As a part of the rich "history" of this planet, he wondered whether he should contact the explorer of this new civilization. Her actions looked like those of a grave robber kicking down a widow's door!

He hasn't come up with an answer yet.

Just continue to observe for a while. It seems quite interesting to see her kicking a door that can never be kicked open.

It can help him dispel the loneliness that has been bothering him for millions of years.

Chapter 500: Evangelista XI: Sorry, I'm a Meal Replacement

January 1095, 1, Lateran, Papal Palace.

Today is the first day of the new year. Early in the morning, Evangelista XI noticed the gifts in his office in the Papal Palace, which were almost flooding the table.

In addition to the gifts presented by the Papal Knights, Cardinals and Secretaries of the Vatican, there were also many New Year gifts from dignitaries from other countries and other forces.

This situation is not uncommon. After all, the modern Terran calendar begins with the year when the Lateran saints erected the Stone of Revelation. In 1095, every generation of popes, whether radical or moderate, progressive or conservative, has undoubtedly adhered to the Lateran's principle of "neutrality". And this business card they have created for the Lateran over the past thousand years is enough to win some precious trust and goodwill for the Lateran in this land.

Having been Pope for more than ten years, Evangelista XI has become accustomed to this time of year. In the past, he would select a few gifts that he was interested in and were not too valuable to open - such as limited edition snacks and desserts, very useful beard care cream, and greeting cards from good friends.

As for the remaining more valuable gifts, he would instruct the people in the Vatican to organize a small auction internally to sell these things and exchange them for credit points, which would be used to provide discount subsidies to dessert shops throughout the city during the festival, or as prize money for the Vatican's official annual dessert selection competition.

If there is any money left over from this amount, Evangelista XI will donate it to charity.

Lateran has thousands of charitable foundations in this land, spread across Columbia, Ursus, Letania, and Victoria, providing basic living security for tens of thousands of children and the elderly, the weak, and the disabled. Therefore, even a military empire like Ursus, which is famous for its xenophobia and barbarity in Terra, often has some respect for Lateran monks in its territory. At least, if you say you are a Sakota from Lateran, the chances of the military and police using violence against you will be greatly reduced, and they may even charge you a few rubles less when exploiting you.

Of course, the Lateran is not selfless. Such charities are organized. For leaders of many countries, their existence is actually the "invisible church" of the Lateran, a despicable tool to deceive their people into believing in the Lateran religion and expand the Lateran's influence.

Evangelista XI never gave any explanation for this.

He was too lazy to say anything because those people didn't deserve to hear it.

Sakota has a good temper, not that he has no temper. When they speculate with the utmost malice whether a country with a total area of ​​only one city is plotting against the whole of Terra, why don’t they think about who made their people unable to even get a bite of food and could only turn to the Lateran Church and the relief agencies they funded for help?

Some people are full of ideals, some people look at reality, some people talk about ideology but their hearts are full of business, and some people are silent and serve the people down to earth. As Pope Evangelista XI knows that the hearts of most ordinary people are not that complicated at all.

As long as you can eat enough.

If they ate Lateran's food and used Lateran's things, it meant that they became Lateran's spies. Then the Originium should be the one ruling this land now. After all, maybe some people really have never eaten the meat of camels, but it is impossible for someone to be in Terra without using Originium.

Evangelista XI did not deny that these charities did play a role in expanding the Lateran's influence, but that was all they were. Just as Andorn had accused him of when criticizing the Lateran, such institutions were far from salvation. Exaggerating the threat and conflating real charities and borderless organizations with those with ulterior motives was really, well, enough.

However, facing the gifts piled on the table this time, Evangelista XI was also a little puzzled.

"To be honest, I have always had some doubts about whether Ernst has received more gifts than I have this year."

There was no intention of mocking him, Evangelista XI was truly confused.

Why? Because there are too few gifts this year.

In previous years, when he opened the door, the gifts he received would have filled up the room, or even piled up on top of one another. But this year? They barely covered the desk, which was far from enough.

Did those people who sent him gifts in previous years forget about it this year?

Evangelista XI did not think that people like the Duke of Castor, the Duke of Windermere's husband Kent, the Grand Knight of Casimir Russell, and the Vice President of Columbia Wilson would be so forgetful. If their gifts were not given to him, then, if nothing unexpected happened, they should have been given to others.

Who else can I give it to? Is that even a question?

Evangelista XI spread his hands and joked to his old friend from the musketeers who came to help carry the gifts:

"I never thought that Rutland would become obsolete one day."

Under the mask lifted by the old musketeer, his smile was somewhat helpless:

"I can't help it. Your Holiness, you are old and ugly now. You are not attractive enough."

"I think I've maintained myself pretty well." Evangelista XI stroked his beard in astonishment.

The Gun Rider shrugged: "But he is a serious top star in Terra. You are now the best substitute for Prime Minister Ernst. To use the words of today's young people, you are a meal replacement!"

"Meal replacement?"

Evangelista XI covered his heart with his hands, somewhat hurt. Even the halo above his head seemed to dim a little at this moment.

Although he was reluctant to admit it, the fact seemed to be so. The attention of Terra DDs always had an upper limit. Compared with Kjerag, Ratlan hadn't done anything good for a long time. He could barely maintain his popularity and retreat to the second line. Perhaps he could still be decent with the popularity accumulated over the years. If he really wanted to compete with the new super idol Snow Leopard for the top position, he would probably just hand over all the traffic to Lord Snow Leopard.

Fortunately, jokes aside, although Kjerag's rise did occupy part of Lateran's ecological niche to some extent, Evangelista XI did not have much resistance to Ernst.

After all, although the Summit of All Nations is held in Kjerag, they, Lateran, are also co-organizers. It is definitely not their turn to attend the first and important summit, but in the future, there will always be opportunities for the second, third... and 10086th summit!

You see, Kjerag is covered with snow for most of the year, but it's different in Lateran, where "even the air is filled with the sweetness of milk and honey." It's nice to change the taste occasionally. Ernst and he are close friends regardless of age difference, and he is very optimistic about this young man, so he must understand and agree.

Besides, even from the perspective of pure contribution, Laterania and Yan, two major countries, were brought to the Summit of All Nations by Laterania. How could Snow Leopard ignore this contribution?

Moreover, as the Pope, the only "saint" of the Lateran Church in modern times, he also has a little appeal in this land. He and Ernst would both benefit if they work together and suffer if they separate. Ernst would not fail to see this.

"Dudu-"

A sudden alarm sounded in the office, and Evangelista XI froze in his action of unpacking the gift, his hand suspended in mid-air. His thoughts, which were forcibly pulled back from their thoughts, paused for a moment, and he seemed a little confused.

The gun rider blinked in a daze:

"What kind of alarm is this? I didn't receive any notification of the exercise, and..."

Moreover, the Pope himself is right next to him, so it doesn't make sense that the Pope himself wouldn't know about what happened, right?

"Your Majesty, you know what happened..."

Before the musketeer could finish his words, Evangelista XI's face suddenly froze. He shook his head at the musketeer and pointed to the ground below him.

"[Law]."