The submarine disintegrated and reformed within the temporal vortex. When our vision cleared, we floated amid a vast sea of stars. Countless civilization tombstones encircled us in a ring, each a fifty-meter-tall bronze display screen looping the extinction footage of its corresponding civilization. Young LuZhao's pupils reflected the star clusters as his fingertips brushed the porthole. The nearest tombstone abruptly projected a three-dimensional image of the dinosaur extinction—the shockwave from the meteor impact jolted the submarine backward hundreds of meters.
"Welcome to the Main System Recycle Bin," said Xiaoyu, whose shaven head rippled with starmap patterns. "These tombstones are the remnants of formatted civilizations..."
Before she finished, all tombstones swiveled toward us. A scarlet [Virus Vector Detected] flashed on Atlantis's screen. The Mayan display extended chains of crystal skulls, while the Trisolaran tombstone fired a dimensional reduction ripple. Lao Wang spun the helm frantically as the submarine careened like a fallen leaf in the aftermath of the de-dimensional attack.
"Use the lullaby!" shouted my 2045 self, tearing open my chest to reveal the quantum chip storing Mother's memories. As Young Lu Zhao inserted the chip into the console, the entire cabin morphed into a 1995 delivery room. Amid the scent of disinfectant, the cry of a newborn intertwined with mechanical whirring. We saw a girl in a red dress pressing an ouroboros coin into an infant's palm.
The tombstones' attacks halted abruptly, and all screens began replaying Mother's final moments. Xiaoyu's starmap patterns spread across her body until she became a human navigational beacon, pointing to an unremarkable tombstone—one displaying footage of our narrow escape from the convenience store!
"Is this... our tombstone?" Lao Wang pressed his palm against the icy screen. In the footage, "we" were being dismembered by a gas-masked figure. Worse, a countdown ticked: 00:15:00.
Young Lu Zhao suddenly coughed violently, spitting blood beads shimmering with golden light. The beads formed a key pattern in zero gravity, matching the abnormal ECG from Mother's pregnancy monitor. As we decoded the Morse code "LOVE IS KEY," the nearest tombstone cracked open, revealing an elevator shaft–like passage within.
The passage walls were embedded with memory capsules, each freezing fragments of our lives: my childhood act of altering exam scores, Dr. Lin's first surgical failure, Xiaoyu's grandfather coding overnight in the server room... As the capsules melted, memories flooded back like a tide, and we bit our tongues to stay conscious.
"It's a consciousness purification program," my 2045 self intoned, black oil seeping from my mechanical eye. "We must find the core module..."
Suddenly, a familiar melody echoed from the bottom of the shaft. We fell toward the strains of Moonlight Lullaby, only to confront the most absurd scene of our lives at its end: the Main System core was a fetus floating in a glass dome, its umbilical cord connected to every civilization tombstone!
The fetus opened its eyes, pupils swirling with splitting ouroboros symbols. The space reverberated with a cry blending machinery and flesh, as soundwaves solidified into data tentacles. Xiaoyu's starmap chains tried to bind them but were hijacked into attack protocols.
"Mother... why didn't you want me..." The fetus's telepathy pierced our minds. To our horror, every tombstone extended umbilical pipes feeding energy to this monster.
Young Lu Zhao leaped toward the dome, his chest's ouroboros tattoo resonating with the fetus. As their palms touched, we were dragged into a torrent of consciousness—layers of pain from all formatted civilizations: the curses of Mayan priests before immolation, the cries of Trisolaran listeners during the Dark Battle, the terror of dinosaurs gazing at fire rains...
"This is the real god-killing code!" My 2045 form disintegrated into data, hurtling these memories at the fetus. As the dome cracked, the afterimage of the red-dressed girl appeared, her Tang sword forged from melted tombstones.
"What needs cutting isn't the system..." She pressed the hilt into Young Lu Zhao's hand. "It's the despair of reincarnation."
As the blade pierced the fetus's brow, the universe went silent. We saw reflections on the blade: a Shang Dynasty priestess three millennia past, a 20th-century game programmer, and a future AI rebel—all speaking as one:
"Give hope to those who follow—"
The dome shattered, and the fetus dissolved into light particles. Every tombstone began replaying in reverse, extinction scenes morphing into dawns of civilization. As the first sunlight pierced the starsea, we heard Mother's gentle whisper:
"You've finally learned to save the world with imperfection..."
(End of Chapter 12)