"You mean—a parallel universe?"
Amidst the shock, Fu Xuan was the first to voice her conjecture.
As the Master Diviner of the Divination Commission, her breadth of knowledge far exceeded that of the others. After rapidly searching through her vast reservoir of information, she concluded that the parallel universe hypothesis was the most plausible.
But only the most plausible, nothing more. While a parallel universe fit Jing Yuan's description of "equal in scale," it conflicted with his notion of a realm "awaiting development."
The term parallel implied that both universes shared the same point of origin, diverging only through differing outcomes. If so, their levels of advancement should not differ dramatically—so why would one be "awaiting development"?
Development was only necessary when there existed an overwhelming disparity.
As soon as Fu Xuan spoke, the room erupted into an uproar.
If her words were true—if the Xianzhou could indeed access another universe—then their future would be boundless… but so too would the potential for catastrophe.
For a while, everyone spoke at once.
Jing Yuan merely observed the five of them as they debated. In a sense, Fu Xuan was correct—but according to the information Sylvester had provided, the "Network Universe" he spoke of contained no beings stronger than a galactic level. Far weaker than any Aeon.
The level of danger was, at least for now, within acceptable bounds. Besides, he had no intention of invading that world.
Grand Craftsman Gongshu stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I recall that our predecessors in the Artisanship Commission once experimented with the theory of parallel universes. They attempted to use the Xianzhou's pocket-dimension technology as a foundation—to perceive the vast through the small—but ultimately failed. Since then, no one has ever attempted such an experiment again."
As he revisited that memory of failure, a spark of curiosity flared in his eyes. His innate passion for invention had been reignited—completing what his ancestors could not had always been the ultimate calling of a craftsman.
"Could it be," he mused, "that these two blue-tier Curios are capable of opening a gateway to another universe?"
His hand stilled mid-stroke. Producing a compact, folding microscope, he bent closer to inspect the Digi-Egg and the Digivice lying on the table, intent on testing his theory right there. Even if he could only grasp a fragment of their secrets, it would be enough to advance the Xianzhou's spatial technology by leaps and bounds.
Yet the moment Gongshu finished speaking, a voice of concern rose—not directed at him, but at Jing Yuan's entire proposal.
Lingsha's delicate brows drew together. She crossed one arm over her chest and spoke gravely. "The allure of an uncharted universe is undeniable. But novelty also means the unknown. And that world will surely not be without its masters. As outsiders, we would inevitably be rejected. If the gateway between realms were to be established on the Xianzhou, and if that other universe harbors an Aeon of Destruction—or any force akin to one—our world would be the first to suffer."
When her words fell, the room sank into uneasy silence.
Even Gongshu, moments ago eager to experiment, stopped in his tracks.
Because she was right. Opening a path between universes might not yield any benefit at all—and if the other side bore ill will, the Xianzhou alone would shoulder the consequences. The risk far outweighed the potential reward.
"I believe Commissioner Lingsha speaks reason," said Yukong of the Sky-Faring Commission, the first to take a side. "Even if such a gate were to be built, now is not the time. The Ambrosial Arbor crisis has only just ended, and Phantylia has already unified the Borisin as her pawns. We stand on the brink of war—resources must not be divided further."
But Gongshu could not quite let go of his curiosity. He ventured cautiously, "What if... the gate were constructed outside the Xianzhou? Or perhaps we could initiate a joint study—invite cooperation from organizations like the Genius Society?"
Lingsha waited until he finished before cutting in, her tone sharp and decisive. "Unless that world is far inferior to our own—worse even than the Xianzhou—then a loose research coalition would not be nearly enough to mitigate the risk."
"Indeed," a male voice interjected in agreement.
Everyone turned their heads in surprise.
It was Jing Yuan.
Even Lingsha was caught off guard.
Everything she had said—every calculated point—had been in direct opposition to his earlier enthusiasm. When the meeting began, Jing Yuan had spoken of this discovery with visible excitement. Now, instead of being angered by the resistance, he stood with them? What was he playing at?
Lingsha's face betrayed only mild puzzlement, but behind her closed lips, her teeth pressed sharply into the soft flesh beneath.
Her animosity toward Jing Yuan was no secret. This man had been the one to exile her master. Though she suspected he might have had his reasons, she could not bring herself to forgive him—not without an explanation.
And yet now… his contradictions baffled her even more.
What exactly was he planning?
Jing Yuan chuckled softly. "Your concerns are perfectly valid," he said. "Unfortunately, the truth is this—the gateways have already been constructed. And there are... countless of them."
"What?!"
Fu Xuan's cry broke the silence. "How could this be? How did I not know?"
With the Divination Commission's intelligence network, it was impossible for an undertaking of such scale within the Luofu to escape her notice.
But Jing Yuan was not one to speak without certainty. That could only mean—
Lingsha's hands clenched tight, her expression wavering between disbelief and dread. If this were true, the Luofu was already in grave peril. Immediate mobilization of every available resource—and emergency aid from the other Xianzhou—would be the only recourse.
The other Charioteers reached the same conclusion.
Cold sweat beaded on Gongshu's forehead. If Jing Yuan was telling the truth, then there was only one explanation—those gateways had not been built by them. They were built from the outside. The other universe had already begun its invasion—and the Xianzhou was its first target.
But the most terrifying part was this: the technology required to breach a cosmic barrier did not even exist in their universe. Meaning—the science of the other world surpassed the Xianzhou's by an unfathomable degree.
"Please, everyone," Jing Yuan said calmly, raising a hand to quell the panic. "There's no need for alarm. If these two Curios truly point toward a parallel universe, then yes, opening a portal recklessly would indeed invite disaster. But you've all misunderstood. The nature of that universe—its mode of existence—is something none of us, not even Marshal Hua, could have conceived of before today."
Before their eyes, he activated the Digivice for the first time.
A beam of light shot forth.
Jing Yuan aimed it toward the Seat of Divine Foresight's central computer—and to everyone's horror, he reached his arm into the holographic screen.
And then withdrew it—completely unharmed.
"Is this... an illusion? Some kind of body-phase technology?"
Lingsha's voice trembled as she spoke.
Because she didn't believe her own words. She already knew—she knew what Jing Yuan meant by "gateway."
The universal network that all intelligent life used for information exchange—was he saying that one could enter it physically? What kind of madness was this? What was the human body to them—mere data?
The others were equally dumbstruck.
Especially Fu Xuan and Gongshu, who prided themselves on their scientific understanding of matter.
This was no "consciousness upload," no mere transmission of data to a server.
It was true material conversion.
A real, physical body entering and exiting the virtual world at will?!
Then what meaning did modern science even have anymore?
Science... no longer existed.