Chapter 39: Whispers from the Wormhole

The lights of the "Hell’s Trio" training facility flickered out for the final time, the hiss of the simulation chamber’s pressure release dragging a long echo through the metallic space.

The air was thick with the pungent scent of ozone, molten metal, and sweat.

Duan Peng collapsed onto the cold, abrasive floor, his chest heaving violently, each breath tearing through his throat like a bellows. He turned his head, sweat and grime trailing down his temple. Looking at Ouyang Nan not far away, who was also leaning against the chamber wall, pale-faced, he cracked an exhausted yet triumphant smile.

"Ouyang... that cover shot you took during the electromagnetic storm... that was goddamn brilliant!"

Ouyang Nan barely had the strength to twitch the corner of her mouth; she simply raised her hand slightly, offering a trembling thumbs-up.

Her gaze drifted past Duan Peng to rest on Xu Yan, who was carefully tending to Wu Mingjie’s injured arm.

Those suffocating dozen seconds in the vacuum simulation chamber, the precise coordination despite the loss of contact amidst the electromagnetic turbulence—what Xu Yan had displayed was more than just technique; it was a battlefield intuition bordering on precognition.

Fragments of the cold accusations from the interrogation room flashed through her mind, but they could no longer piece together that sharp sense of suspicion.

He had saved her. More than once.

He had led this battered team, time and again, out of desperate straits.

That was enough. At least, before heading to the real battlefield, it was enough.

Wu Mingjie, his arm in a sling, looked deathly pale from blood loss, yet his eyes burned with intensity. He looked at Xu Yan, his voice weak but resolute. "Brother Yan... next time, my right hand... I’ll definitely keep up."

Xu Yan finished wrapping the final layer of gauze and pressed firmly on his shoulder without a word.

The moment he stood up, a wave of intense dizziness struck him.

His vision swayed and distorted. He stumbled, reaching out to steady himself against the cold casing of a nearby centrifuge.

The instant his fingertips touched the metal, it felt as if a faint electric current surged up his arm, tearing open a breach in his days of extreme fatigue and mental tension.

*Hum—*

His consciousness felt as if it had been cast into an endless sea of stars!

It was no longer a training ground, no longer a map of energy flows—

Before his eyes was a chaotic star map woven from countless twisted rays of light, fractured geometric strings, and flickering symbols!

Ancient formulas from planet Ram, sensory fragments from wormhole traversals, energy data from the space-tearing "Echo Valley"...

Jing Zhimin’s desperate gaze, Duan Peng’s roar as he risked his life, Ouyang Nan’s shift from skepticism to complex regard...

Everything collided, swirled, annihilated, and was reborn in his consciousness like a billion stars!

*‘Frequency coupling… curvature nodes… radiation tide anchoring… the key is… the key!’*

The prompts from the "Covetous" were no longer cold, but a fanatical, soul-piercing shriek!

***

Countless shards of thought were kneaded together by an invisible force—the micro-wormhole stability paradox that had plagued him for so long, the question of how to anchor the coordinates of a "gate" within turbulent space—

At this moment, it was shattered open by a lightning bolt of thought born from the resonance of extreme pressure and willpower!

Xu Yan jolted, grabbed a signal marker from the floor, and, ignoring the scattered reports, began to madly scribble on the silver-gray casing of the centrifuge!

The nib scraped against the metal, producing a shrill, piercing sound.

Duan Peng, Ouyang Nan, and Wu Mingjie stared in astonishment.

Xu Yan’s eyes were vacant, his soul seemingly untethered, all his focus concentrated on the tip of the pen.

He was not drawing any symbols or formulas known to Blue Star; it was an incredibly complex core resonance model, nested in multiple spirals and filled with the aesthetic of non-Euclidean geometry!

At the center was a "keyhole" formed by three interlocking, twisted Mobius strips, surrounded by nebula-like energy trajectories—every stroke was cold, efficient, and beyond the comprehension of Blue Star.

It was a pure wormhole spatial anchoring model belonging to the supreme intelligence of the Ram civilization.

"Xu Yan?!" Ouyang Nan exclaimed.

She recognized parts of the pattern—after the extreme testing in the warehouse, he had drawn fragments of it unconsciously before!

Xu Yan heard nothing, his pen flying across the surface.

As the final stroke was laid down, the complete Ram symbol emerged under the lights, cold and rhythmically perfect.

He seemed drained of all strength, and the pen clattered to the floor.

As he breathed heavily, his eyes regained their clarity.

He looked at the mysterious symbol on the centrifuge, then at his teammates, who had gathered around with faces full of shock.

Duan Peng was the first to react. He dragged himself closer, his bloodshot eyes fixed on the symbol and then on Xu Yan’s pale face.

"Old Xu... what is this? You looked like you were possessed by a ghost just now!"

There was a hint of undetectable worry in his voice.

Xu Yan took a deep breath, suppressing the star map still boiling in his mind and the whispers of the "Covetous."

He did not explain the origin of the symbol, but pointed to the complex "keyhole," his voice hoarse yet clear:

"Find it... find this 'key'... and we can truly open the Star Gate!"

He looked up, his gaze sweeping over the three of them. "Not by flying slowly in a ship... but by leaping! An instantaneous leap!"

A leap?! A Star Gate?!

Duan Peng’s pupils contracted, his breath hitching.

He didn't understand the symbol, but he understood the light in Xu Yan’s eyes—the same light that had guided them through the edge of life and death so many times!

He slammed his fist against the centrifuge, making the symbol hum, and grinned, his smile filled with a reckless, fanatical trust.

"To hell with these ghost drawings! Old Xu, I, Duan Peng, am betting my life on you! Wherever you go, I’ll fight! I’ll be with you to open this Gate of the Star Sea!"

Wu Mingjie, with his arm in a sling, nodded firmly. "Brother Yan... count me in for opening that gate!"

Ouyang Nan gazed at the cold symbol, then at the ambition and wisdom burning in Xu Yan’s eyes, and finally at the unwavering, fiery look in Duan Peng’s.

The cold suspicion from the interrogation room was utterly evaporated by this goal that transcended imagination and this scorching trust.

She took a deep breath, stepped forward, and stood before Xu Yan, her gaze no longer wavering.

"Xu Yan, I believe you can find the key. This gate," she pointed to the symbol, "we will open it together."

***

On the launch pad of the "Stardust" base, lead-gray clouds pressed low, like solid blocks of lead.

The distant horizon distorted in the heat haze.

The "Iron Curtain" transport ship lay silent like a mountain of steel, the tail engines glowing with residual heat.

The hatch was wide open, like the mouth of a giant beast, swallowing the final ground crew and equipment.

Jing Zhimin stood on the high platform, the wind pulling at his dark training uniform.

His graying, short hair was disheveled.

He looked down at the assembled team.

Xu Yan stood at the front, his posture as straight as a spear, his gaze calm as he looked toward the hatch, as if he had already pierced through the steel and cast his eyes into the deep void.

Duan Peng stood at his side, as loyal as a rock, wearing his usual roguish grin, yet his eyes were as sharp as an eagle’s, scanning the surroundings.

Ouyang Nan and Wu Mingjie followed close behind, one solemn, the other standing tall despite his injury.

Jing Zhimin’s gaze lingered on Xu Yan for a long time, a complex mix of emotions—expectation, worry, exhaustion, and the relief of one who has staked everything on a single throw.

In the end, he said nothing. He simply raised his hand and gave a standard, heavy military salute to Xu Yan and the entire squad.

Xu Yan seemed to sense it; he turned his head, his gaze meeting Jing Zhimin’s in the air.

He saw the immense weight of the entrustment in the man’s eyes. Xu Yan straightened his back and raised his hand in a return salute.

A silent promise passed through the wind.

Target: The interstellar battlefield.

Journey: The vast Star Sea.

Stakes: Everything.