Chapter Fifty-Nine: The Tide’s Call from the Intertidal Zone

The coastline of Pingtung in the early hours of the morning was still shrouded in a layer of grayish mist. The salty sea breeze, carrying a chill, swept over the undulating reefs and the vast, expansive intertidal zone.

The exposed seabed after the ebb tide reflected the daylight with a wet sheen, while puddles of seawater trapped in the depressions formed tiny mirrors, reflecting the leaden gray sky.

The "Explorer 8" hovered above the distant sea surface, like a silent guardian.

Xu Yan’s team members, clad in combat uniforms equipped with basic environmental adaptation functions, walked unsteadily through this intermixed terrain of mud and gravel.

Their mission was to investigate the intermittent, abnormally low-frequency energy fluctuations monitored by the command center, which were preliminarily suspected to be related to geological activity or unregistered submarine equipment.

Ouyang Nan operated the portable energy scanner, her brow slightly furrowed: "The fluctuation is very weak, intermittent, and seems like... it is breathing to the rhythm of the tides."

Duan Peng shouldered the environmental sampling box and muttered, "What could this damn place hide? Surely those madmen from Redeem aren't down here digging for clams, are they?"

Wu Mingjie, on the other hand, was cautiously deploying several micro-seismic sensors, attempting to find clues from the stratum structure.

Xu Yan stood upon a larger reef, holding a slightly aged bronze compass in his hand.

This was another item among his father's relics. After a slight quiver, the compass needle stubbornly pointed in a direction deviating from true north, accompanied by an extremely faint, high-frequency tremor of its own.

"It's not magnetic interference," Xu Yan said in a low voice, "it's some kind of energy traction."

"Energy signature information analysis complete," Cupidity's stream of consciousness cut in. "The fluctuation frequency has a 99.3% synchronization rate with the tidal gravity cycle, but its core modulation pattern contains unnatural harmonics. Source depth... estimated to be between two thousand eight hundred and three thousand one hundred meters underground."

"Three thousand meters?" Xu Yan was startled. "At such a depth, with Blue Planet's current conventional technology, it is difficult to carry out large-scale operations without leaving a trace."

"Not operation traces," Cupidity corrected. "It is more like a kind of... periodic resonance of a dormant structure. The structural material cannot be fully scanned, but its energy conductivity has an 8.71% similarity to the decay characteristics of certain ancient civilization relic shield materials recorded in the Ram system database."

An ancient civilization relic dormant three thousand meters beneath the coastline?

Xu Yan’s heartbeat accelerated slightly; this undoubtedly corroborated the previous clues regarding "colossi" and "legacy."

He subconsciously rubbed the compass in his hand, feeling that subtle tremor, attempting to connect this ancient pointing tool with the precise coordinates provided by Cupidity.

"Playing ghosts and casting spells," a slightly mocking voice came from beside him.

Jing Dong disembarked from a patrol boat not far away, accompanied by two team members, and walked over.

He had been ordered to lead a team to assist with perimeter security, and he obviously held no affection for this muddy place, let alone approving of Xu Yan's combination of "ancient antiques" and "alien thinking."

"Xu Yan, this is no time for Feng Shui divination. Relying on that piece of junk and your... whatever-it-is 'intuition,' what could you possibly find?" Jing Dong's tone was unkind; his gaze swept over Xu Yan and then seemed to look meaningfully toward the sky—as if capable of piercing through the invisible existence of Cupidity.

Xu Yan put away the compass, looked at Jing Dong, and replied with a calm gaze: "Intuition and experience are not entirely valueless, Jing Dong. Just like when you judge a battlefield situation, you don't rely solely on data reports, do you?"

"That's different! My judgment is based on logic accumulated through training and actual combat!" Jing Dong retorted.

"Logic is important," Xu Yan nodded, then changed the subject, "but logic cannot explain everything. I remember when I was a child, by the sea, I saw a child swept away by a rip current. Even the fastest rescue boat at the time would have needed time to arrive. According to pure 'logic' and 'risk calculation,' I should have waited, because the risk of jumping into the sea alone to rescue him was extremely high."

He paused, his voice not loud, yet clearly reaching everyone's ears: "But at that time, I didn't think about anything; I just jumped straight in. It was a kind of... instinct, or rather, an impulse that would not permit me 'logical thinking' that drove me. Later, both that child and I were washed ashore on a distant beach and miraculously survived. If I had relied solely on logic back then, he would have undoubtedly died."

Xu Yan looked at Jing Dong: "Sometimes, the 'optimal solution' calculated by rationality is not necessarily the truly 'correct' one. Especially when facing life and... things beyond our understanding. We need logic, but we also need reverence and a little bit of 'irrational' courage."

Jing Dong opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to retort, but in the end, he just let out a cold snort, turned his head away, and said no more.

Xu Yan's words had touched upon something within him that he was unwilling to admit.

The investigation came to a temporary pause; the abnormal fluctuations faded away once more, as if they had never appeared.

As noon approached, the mist on the sea dissipated somewhat, and sunlight pierced through the clouds, bringing a trace of warmth.

Duan Peng bartered with nearby fishermen for some freshly caught seafood—a few plump flower crabs, some palm-sized sea prawns, and a few silvery sea fish. Ouyang Nan found a few rocks and stacked them into a makeshift stove.

Wu Mingjie contributed a small amount of private-stash fresh water and a small packet of salt.

There were no complex seasonings, only the most primitive seawater boiling seafood.

Seafood was tossed into the rolling seawater, and very soon, an extremely rich, fresh and sweet aroma mixed with the breath of the ocean permeated the air.

Duan Peng grinned broadly, impatiently fishing out a reddened flower crab: "This is how it has to be eaten! Pure original flavor, so fresh it'll make your eyebrows drop off!"

Xu Yan also received a section of snow-white fish meat. He blew on it and took a careful bite. Instantly, the ultimate umami, a hint of saltiness, and the delicate, springy texture of the fish exploded in his mouth. This was a culinary feast belonging to the most primitive and direct taste of the Blue Planet.

He shared this sensation, without reservation, with Cupidity.

"...Taste receptors received strong chemical signals: sodium glutamate, inosinate, sodium chloride... combined stimulation is intense. But..." Cupidity's stream of consciousness experienced a distinct stutter and confusion, "...the accompanying nerve signal feedback... is abnormally complex. It cannot be classified simply as 'energy replenishment' or 'physiological demand satisfaction.' Part of the neural cluster activation mode... has a 16.5% similarity to the 'sweet-scented osmanthus cake memory data' received previously..."

Cupidity seemed to be struggling to analyze and understand this taste called "umami," and why it triggered neural responses resembling emotional memories.

This completely exceeded the scope of Ram system taste technology (where precisely simulating chemical signals served only to efficiently provide energy or conduct physiological research).

"...Ram system taste simulation can replicate the taste of any known compound, but... it is hollow." Cupidity rarely exhibited an emotional fluctuation resembling 'reflection.' "It lacks this... multi-dimensional information entanglement bound to a specific environment, a specific group of people, and specific memories. This 'salty and fresh taste'... the light and shadow formed in the sea of consciousness... are unique and cannot be simply replicated. Inefficient... but... interesting."

Xu Yan felt Cupidity's confusion and that subtle touch, smiled faintly, and continued to taste the fish meat in his hand.

The end of technology might simulate all things, but certain experiences are ultimately rooted in the deep connection between life and a specific world.

The sea breeze blew, bringing the sound of distant tides.

A seemingly ordinary monitoring mission had unexpectedly pointed toward an ancient secret deeply buried underground, and also allowed the consciousness from the Ram system to undergo a subtle reshaping amidst the most primitive umami of the Blue Planet.

Xu Yan gazed at the sea surface, which was calming down once more. The tide was rising slowly, gradually submerging the spot where they had just been standing.

He knew that the ripples brought by that "tide letter" from the deep sea would never subside just like that. And the collision between rationality and sensibility within the team would also continue in the next test.

He glanced at the terminal on his wrist, and an encrypted message from Jing Zhimin had just arrived:

"The preliminary analysis report of the relic has come out, and the energy signature information has a weak match with some surviving data from the Alliance's early 'Guardian' project. Prepare to return to the base; the seventh environmental homeostasis test of the 'Cocoon Chamber' requires your presence. There may be new discoveries."

New missions and new discoveries always seemed to be waiting in the unknown.