Chapter 233: Borrow Request Form of the Cosmic Archive

The data sent by Life of Light received an echo at dawn on the seventh day.

It does not come from any specific civilization, but from the Universal Memory Archive itself— the ultimate archive, legend says, that stores every civilization's first cry, first laugh, and first gaze at the stars.

The echo appears as a borrowing form, projected directly onto the surface of the amber-colored fruit:

【Universal Memory Archive File Borrow Request】

【Requested Files: Earth's civilization 'Osmanthus Cake Teaching' holographic record, Silent Observer Civilization 'Aesthetic Uprising' early data, Calculator-9's probability cloud original algorithm】

【Borrowing Reason: This archive is compiling 'Case Collection of Anti-Entropy Civilization Survival Models', and the above materials are listed as 'key samples'】

【Borrowing Period: Permanent (but copies will be returned synchronously)】

【Special Note: In exchange, this archive will grant limited access to the 'Emotional Heritage of Extinct Civilizations'. The first opened file is as follows—】

Below the borrowing form, a brief video flickers into view:

A long‑gone, jellyfish‑shaped civilization, in the final moment before its self‑annihilation, collectively transformed all its memories into a singing amber. The amber preserves the civilization's first song, whose lyrics consist of a single line, translated as:

"We existed not because we had to, but because we liked watching bubbles rise."

The video ends. The archive adds a note:

【That civilization vanished seventy thousand years ago; cause: over‑pursuit of efficiency leading to creative exhaustion. This is the only non‑functional legacy they left.】

The amber fruit shares this borrowing form with everyone. Reactions vary:

Lao Zhao stares at the line 'liking to watch bubbles rise', stays silent for a long time, then whispers, 'That's enough. Liking to watch bubbles... that's enough.'

Kaiwen frantically logs the data: 'The Universal Memory Archive contacting living civilizations on its own? That contradicts every known record! This means... the anti‑entropy mode might be rarer and more precious than we imagined?'

The Smith's crystal trembles lightly: 'That singing amber... if our civilization one day vanishes, what will it leave behind? A pile of ultra‑efficient combustion formulas?'

At that moment, a fine crack suddenly opens on the amber fruit's surface—not damage, but sprouting. From the fissure grows a short, translucent structure, part crystal, part plant stalk, whose tip bears a tiny 'fruit' that constantly shifts its imagery.

Xiao Yu's wrist light imprint resonates with it: 'It's growing a new organ... specifically to connect to the Universal Memory Archive! It says... the archive wishes to establish a "real‑time data sync channel" so our teaching process can be archived directly.'

Su Yu gently touches the new sprout; the sprout brushes her finger, and a line of text appears on its surface:

【New Function: Archivist Mode Activated】

【Ability: Can instantly back up any 'emotional teaching moment' to the Universal Memory Archive and receive reference hints of 'similar cases'】

【Risk: Over‑backing up may cause the fruit to overload】

The fruit immediately tests the new function. It packages and sends the instant it recorded of 'Lao Zhao's son frying glutinous rice flour temperature memory.'

Three seconds later, the archive returns three reference cases:

1. 'Mechanical civilization "Gear Heart" individual, in the final second before retirement, privately recorded a specific frequency noise generated by a bearing in motion. Annotation: "This is the lullaby I've heard all my life."'

2. 'Plant‑form civilization "Root Network", passed down the scorch‑mark pattern of an ancient tree struck by lightning through generations. Reason: "Within the scar's pattern lies the wisdom to avoid the next lightning strike— but more importantly, it is beautiful."'

3. 'Energy‑being civilization "Stellar Shepherd", while guiding a cluster of stars to migrate, deliberately detoured 0.3 light‑years just to let a dying star "see" the color of a certain nebula. Record: "Its final flicker lasted seven seconds longer than the standard extinction mode and displayed a rare blue‑purple hue."'

Each case is followed by the archive's commentary:

【Common Feature: Individuals, even when aware that it is 'non‑essential', still choose to preserve or create some 'non‑functional aesthetic'. This behavior correlates positively with the civilization's longevity.】

Seeing this, the mothership's internal Aesthetic Faction encrypted channel suddenly exploded.

Calculator-9 (though confined, still able to communicate) sends a bold message:

"Cosmic‑scale data validates our calculations! Aesthetic is not a bug; it is the underlying code for a civilization's desire to continue existing!"

At noon, Lao Zhao sets out the tea table as usual. But today, beside the tea set lies a blank notebook—retrieved by Kaiwen from the ruins, its paper yellowed but still usable.

"No data analysis today," Kaiwen pushes the notebook into the room, "Just one thing: if everything disappears tomorrow, which memory would you choose to keep? Not the most important, but the 'most reluctant to let go.'"

Aili speaks first: "I want to keep... the moment Han Qing's scar garden first bloomed, when Chen Mo's notebook automatically flipped to a certain page. That page read: 'Light need not be abundant; a little is enough.'"

The one‑eyed woman's geometric flower in her eye socket slowly turns: "I keep... the first time the reservoir elder's son's wooden boat model floated on the water. The water was dirty, but the boat rose."

The reservoir elder rubs the model, softly saying, "I keep... the moment my son choked on water while learning to swim, I patted his back, and he cried, 'I still need to learn.'"

The transparent jellyfish brushes the notebook with a tentacle: "I keep... the sight of Lao Zhao's wife teaching me to knead dough, flour clinging to her eyelashes. That white... like fresh snow."

The inverted tree roots sway lightly: "I keep... when my first rose fruit split, the speed at which the inner light sphere rose. It was 0.7 seconds slower than the standard rise model, because it was 'hesitating'—hesitating about where to go."

Each statement is instantly synchronized by the amber fruit to the mothership and to the Universal Memory Archive.

When the last person finishes, the notebook's first page automatically reveals a line of text—the archive's handwriting left via the fruit:

【This file has been recorded. Classified under: 'Living Civilizations, Their Present Breath'】

【Note: This is the first 'Collective Vulnerability Sample' the archive has recorded in nearly three thousand years. Rarity level: Highest.】

In the afternoon, Su Yu sets up a small display on the lower level of the purification tower. The display holds only three items:

1. A paper crane with a noticeably crooked wing (broken during the first lesson teaching Seran).

2. A sheet of paper whose ink has been blurred by tears (originally Chen Mo's handwriting, but got soaked during a rain).

3. A rough star made from crushed osmanthus cake crumbs (the result of Lao Zhao's son's first attempt at 'physical creation').

A handwritten sign stands beside the display:

【Imperfect Museum – Phase One】

【Commonality of Exhibits: All became more story‑rich than perfect versions because of 'Error Signal' or 'accident'.】

Life of Light's halo envelops the display, converting each item's 'imperfections' into light‑pattern projections in the air: the special airflow trail from the crooked wing, the unique diffusion pattern where tears blurred the ink, and the rough yet warm texture where crumbs are bonded.

On the mothership side, more and more individuals secretly connect to the projection.

One never‑spoken individual—designation 'Silent Maintainer-42'—suddenly posts a photo on the public channel: it shows the mothership's power core it maintains, a metal shell bearing a scar left three thousand years ago, never repaired.

Beneath the photo is a line of small text:

"This was deliberately left by the Builder. He said: 'Let later ones know that even something this complex starts from a single scar.' I never understood. Now... I think I get it."

The photo was forwarded inside the mothership over a thousand times.

Efficiency-1 did not delete it—because deletion itself would look more like 'fearing something'.

At dusk, the Universal Memory Archive sends a second message, this time an emergency warning:

【Detected: Conflict between the Aesthetic Faction and Efficiency Faction within the Silent Observer mothership has escalated to a critical point】

【"Efficiency Faction" is secretly invoking the "Civilization Reset Agreement"—the agreement will forcibly format all emotionally residual individuals, and may affect Earth's emotional network】

【Agreement activation countdown: 12 hours】

【The Archive, based on the "Civilization Diversity Protection Convention", offers the following assistance options——】

Options unfold:

1. Emergency Evacuation Passage: can temporarily upload the consciousness of some key individuals to the Archive's "Memory Vault".

2. Historical Case Support: provides data from seven civilizations that have experienced similar internal wars, displaying the outcomes of different choices.

3. "Final Lesson" crash course material: how, under extreme repression, to transmit the seed of aesthetic with minimal cost.

The amber fruit unhesitatingly chose the third option.

The course material transmitted instantly, its content extremely concise:

【Final Lesson·Core Curriculum】

【When all speech is forbidden, one need only do one thing: let an individual, before disappearing, see a true color once.】

【Note: color is not a sum of wavelengths, but the warmth of "someone wishes you could see it."】

Almost simultaneously, the mothership's A-12 sent a distress call via encrypted channel:

"They have begun arrests. Three hundred of us have decided not to flee. But we need…… the 'true color'—to look once more before formatting."

"Not a projection, not data, but…… light emitted directly from your world."

Han Qing looked at Su Yu. Su Yu was already folding paper—this time she folded an extremely thin, translucent lantern.

Han Qing looked at Lao Zhao. Lao Zhao stood up: "I'm going to the north of the ruins, where there is a patch of phosphorescent moss that emits blue-green light at night. Though faint, it…… is real light."

Han Qing looked at Xiao Yu. Xiao Yu raised her wrist, light seal fully open: "I can attach my 'carrier frequency' to the light, so the light carries the 'desire to be seen.'"

Han Qing looked at the forger's crystal. The crystal gently vibrated: "I can fuse the 'warm afterglow frequency' from the furnace's cooling into the light, giving the light a tactile quality."

Finally, Han Qing looked at the amber fruit. The fruit's sprout faintly glowed, and its surface displayed:

【Calculating: merging the ruins' phosphorescence, carrier frequency, warm afterglow, and Su Yu's lantern's "paper fiber light-transmitting texture" into a composite light signal, straight to the mothership confinement room window.】

【Success rate: 53%. Interception probability: 71%. But even if intercepted, the light will exist for 0.03 seconds before vanishing—enough for one person to see.】

"Enough." Han Qing said, "0.03 seconds is enough to remember a color."

Su Yu finished folding the lantern. Its shape is a blooming osmanthus.

By midnight, all preparations were complete.

The phosphorescent moss was carefully gathered and placed at the lantern's base; Xiao Yu's light imprint left a layer of pale gold veins on the lantern paper; the forger's crystal infused a wisp of warm frequency into the lantern's handle; the amber fruit lightly rested its sprout on the lantern's top, serving as a "directional emitter".

Lao Zhao held the lantern, standing at the highest point of the purification tower.

In the distant starry sky, the mothership resembled a silent giant beast.

"Let's begin." Han Qing whispered.

The lantern was lit.

It was not a blinding light, but a soft halo of blue-green-gold interwoven, carrying the paper texture and warm sensation, slowly rising.

As the halo detached from the lantern, the amber fruit's sprout exerted full guidance, compressing it into an extremely fine light filament, shooting toward a specific porthole of the mothership—those coordinates provided by A-12, the observation window of the confinement room.

The light filament traversed space, continually weakened by the mothership's protective shield.

But just as it was about to dissipate completely, the confinement room's porthole suddenly swung open from within—a trembling mechanical arm, risking punishment, turned the long-sealed lock.

The light filament slipped through the gap, casting a palm-sized, trembling light spot on the dark wall of the confinement room.

The light spot lasted 0.03 seconds.

Then it faded.

The confinement room's public recorder showed that, within three seconds after the light spot faded, the energy fluctuation curves of the forty-nine individuals awaiting formatting simultaneously displayed a previously unseen peak—which the Archive later named this peak as:

【Peak type: Silent gratitude】

【Characteristic: a non‑logical energy release produced when, in despair, one witnesses a tiny beauty.】

Meanwhile, on Earth, after the lantern went out, Su Yu discovered on the lantern paper a faint line resembling tear tracks—something sent back via the light filament by an individual in the confinement room:

"I saw it. It is the color of the osmanthus, but deeper—like…… someone had wept for it."