Byrne staggered, nearly losing his footing. He shook his head violently, taking a long moment to steady his mind.
The instant that energy touched his psychic threads, Byrne realized the perception attached to those threads had vanished. It wasn't shielded; it was consumed—like a drop of water falling onto a sponge, disappearing instantly. More terrifyingly, the energy moved with extreme speed. In the blink of an eye, nearly half of the threads Byrne had extended into the storage room were devoured.
Sensing the dire situation, Byrne had quickly withdrawn his consciousness while severing the remaining psychic threads. Though this "severing the tail to save the life" maneuver seemed simple, it dealt a significant shock to his mind. Fortunately, the impact was brief; he would be fine after a short rest.
That was too close. I almost fell for it. That energy is sinister—what exactly is it?
In the heat of the moment, Byrne hadn't had time to think. Looking back now, what had appeared to be "void" energy at first glance was actually "Intersticial Energy." Under specific circumstances, when the Warp makes contact with realspace, they overlap to form something akin to a spatial fold. Intersticial Energy is the byproduct of such folds.
The most bizarre characteristic of this energy is its tendency to swallow anything that touches the spatial fold. Whether it is psychic power, magic, or physical matter, it accepts everything without exception, provided the fold is large enough to contain it.
No wonder Tim put that thing in the storage room; it turns out a spatial fold is hidden inside.
But then, another thought occurred to Byrne. According to Old Anton, Tim had vanished while standing in front of the storage room door. However, during his probe, Byrne found that the spatial fold only existed inside the room. The space near the doorway was as calm as stagnant water, with no signs of overlapping dimensions.
Could the position of the spatial fold have shifted?
As soon as the thought appeared, Byrne dismissed it. Once a spatial fold forms, it remains stable in a fixed area unless acted upon by a powerful external force—much like how a fold in a piece of fabric doesn't move on its own. Furthermore, if Tim knew about the fold and its properties, why would he approach it voluntarily? More importantly, how would a common freight driver know it existed or trust that hiding something there would be safe?
Unless someone guided him. But who?
And just like that, the trail went cold again.
Byrne had no choice but to return to his second-floor bedroom. He closed the door and lay directly on the bed, staring at the mottled wood grain on the ceiling as questions surged like a tide. To Byrne, the information he possessed felt like scattered puzzle pieces. He sensed they were connected, yet he couldn't form a complete picture because too many vital pieces—such as the person who guided Tim—were missing.
Byrne rolled over, the mattress letting out a faint creak that sounded exceptionally clear in the dead of night. He pressed his throbbing temples, trying to untangle his chaotic thoughts.
"Sigh, thinking is useless. I'll wait until tomorrow."
After an unknown amount of time, Byrne's eyelids grew heavy, and he drifted off. When he opened his eyes again, he found himself back in the mysterious white mist space. He was momentarily stunned but quickly realized seven days had passed; it was time for another meeting.
Byrne followed his intuition through the mist. Before long, the round table and stone chairs came into view. This time, he was the first to arrive. He walked to his usual chair but didn't sit immediately, instead scanning the surrounding mist.
As before, the fog was too thick to see through. Aside from the small area around the table, everything was a blur, and no sound could be heard. The temperature remained constant and comfortable. Byrne had always been curious about this space. Why was he pulled here when he dreamed? If it formed naturally, that was one thing, but if it were man-made, what was the creator's purpose in bringing him and his counterparts together?
As he pondered, the Young Byrne and Inception Byrne appeared one after the other. Seeing Warhammer Byrne, Young Byrne said in surprise, "I didn't expect you to get here before us this time."
Warhammer Byrne shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe the order we appear in is just random."
Once Inception Byrne took his seat, he asked with concern, "How is it? Is that test of yours going smoothly?" He was referring to the experience with the Marcus Test that Warhammer Byrne had shared during the last meeting.
Warhammer Byrne nodded. "I passed. I've officially started my job as an Imperial Tax Collector."
He didn't want to share every detail of his experiences with the others; a general overview sufficed. For him, the most important part of these meetings was gaining information from other worlds to help him face his own challenges—just as Inception Byrne's NZT-48 had helped him pass the exam.
Inception Byrne nodded. "That's good. I was worried after the last meeting that I might not see you again. I'm glad it worked out."
The three chatted for a while. Young Byrne glanced at the mist and cleared his throat. "We've waited a while, and it looks like there are no newcomers this time. Let's officially begin. I'll start."
Because the time intervals in his world were the shortest, Young Byrne always spoke first. Living in the world of Doraemon, his life lacked heart-pounding drama, and with less time between meetings, he naturally had the least to share.
"Actually, I don't have much new to share this time; after all, I traveled to a fairy-tale world. However, just yesterday, I got to try another one of Doraemon's gadgets: the Live-Action Video Camera."
Inception Byrne didn't react much to the name. But Warhammer Byrne was different. Upon hearing "Live-Action Video Camera," his eyes instantly lit up.