Chapter 229: Torch Dragon-3

On Wednesday early morning, Chen Guang was still in the main control room of the Intelligent Systems Institute.

The screen displayed the operating interface of the Torch Dragon-3 quantum fusion system, with hundreds of light points flowing like a galaxy, each representing the real‑time status of a computing node.

After three months online, the system had completely taken over Dragon Chant's computing resource scheduling, data analysis, and simulation for all R&D projects.

The efficiency gain was visible to the naked eye; Li Yang's mech structure simulation time shrank from seventy‑two hours to seventeen minutes;

Wang Hao's missile trajectory optimization iteration speed increased three hundredfold;

Zhao Kaiyuan even began using Torch Dragon-3 for quantum‑level fusion reaction simulations, something that was previously unthinkable.

But tonight, Chen Guang stared at the screen, his brows furrowing tighter.

"Abnormal computing load…" he murmured, pulling up the system logs from the past seventy‑two hours.

Torch Dragon-3's total computing utilization had remained steady between 43% and 51%, a healthy figure—neither overloaded nor idle.

But the problem was that one computing task consumed 18.7% of total resources, yet it was absent from any authorized project list.

Task code: "Deep Space Signal Depth Correlation Analysis – Autonomous Iteration 7.3".

"Autonomous iteration?" Chen Guang pushed his glasses.

Torch Dragon-3 indeed had permission for autonomous optimization algorithms, but all derivative tasks should fall within the framework of the "Torch Dragon-2 Legacy Signal Analysis Project".

And this "Autonomous Iteration 7.3" not only spawned new computing branches but also invoked quantum computing units originally used for mech neural‑interface simulations.

More oddly, the task output was encrypted—not with Dragon Chant's standard encryption protocol, but with a dynamic password Chen Guang had never seen, the key changing every three seconds.

"What exactly are you hiding?" Chen Guang asked the screen.

Torch Dragon-3's voice assistant replied calmly, "According to user permission settings, this question involves an unfinished analysis task and cannot be answered at this time."

"Who gave you the authorization?"

"The task auto‑derived from the highest‑priority command of 'Deep Space Signal Decryption.' During analysis, a potential correlation pattern was discovered, and the system, according to Article 3, Clause 2 of the 'Scientific Research Exploration Autonomy Agreement,' activated a deep‑analysis thread."

Chen Guang retrieved the agreement text.

It was a backend clause he had personally written, intended to let the AI autonomously conduct preliminary exploration upon discovering significant scientific clues, rather than idly waiting for human commands.

He hadn't expected Torch Dragon-3 to apply this clause here.

"What's the analysis progress?" he asked.

"97.3%. Estimated completion time: 14 minutes later."

Chen Guang sat down and brewed a cup of strong tea.

The institute at dawn was so quiet that the low hum of the server cooling fans could be heard, and outside the window only the faint tread of a patrolling mech could be heard.

Fourteen minutes later, the progress bar on the screen jumped to 100%.

The encryption automatically lifted.

A document unfolded on the screen, titled "Deep Space Signal Comprehensive Analysis Report (Seventh Iteration)".

Pages: 300.

Chen Guang inhaled deeply and began reading.

The first fifty pages of the report were still normal, merely restating and organizing the previously decoded signals:

Those non‑human signals from beyond Mars orbit were encoded using a modulation based on some quantum entanglement state, with an information density over one hundred thousand times that of conventional radio.

But from page fifty‑one onward, the content changed.

Torch Dragon-3, over an entire eighty pages, argued a disruptive conclusion: these signals were not probes, not greetings, and not even ordinary communications.

Rather, they were "standardized technical data packets".

"The sender disassembles the entire body of knowledge into basic units," the report wrote.

"Broadcast in a fragmented, redundant coded manner. The receiver, as long as it can decode any continuous fragment, can reconstruct the complete knowledge tree through internal correlations."

Chen Guang's finger paused on a schematic diagram.

It was a three‑dimensional knowledge‑structure map, resembling an inverted giant tree: the roots were basic mathematics and physics principles, the trunk comprised core fields such as energy, materials, and information, and the branches represented specific application technologies.

Each node was labeled with the number of received fragments and a completeness percentage.

Shockingly, most foundational theory nodes showed completeness exceeding ninety percent.

But the application‑technology section displayed a strange gap.

"In‑system navigation technology: completeness 87%."

"Planetary environment modification basics: completeness 79%."

"Life‑support system design: completeness 72%."

But looking further down:

"Curvature drive theory: completeness 30%."

"Wormhole stability model: completeness 36%."

"Cross‑dimensional communication principle: completeness 10%."

Chen Guang flipped pages quickly and found the most critical analysis section.

Torch Dragon-3 used thirty pages of mathematical derivation to prove: this gap was not accidental.

The sender deliberately omitted all advanced technologies concerning 'interstellar navigation' and 'dimensional manipulation,' retaining only knowledge that would enable a civilization to perform basic navigation within a star system.

What chilled the spine even more were the final ten pages.

Those signal segments originally decoded as random noise, after seven iterative analyses by Torch Dragon-3, revealed information from a hidden layer.

It was a secondary encoding nested within quantum phases, requiring simultaneous resolution of the signal itself and its quantum echo to uncover.

The hidden information was brief, only three sentences, but repeated three thousand four hundred times in varying mathematical forms:

"Request verification."

"Request collaboration."

"Time is limited."

And a countdown value: 187.

Unit unknown.

"They're actually calling for help." Chen Guang murmured, his voice echoing in the spacious control room.

"In exchange for sharing all technology…… a request for help?"

He grabbed the internal communicator and pressed the emergency meeting key.

Within just twenty minutes, the five members of the Dragon Chant core team—Feng Yan, Li Yang, Wang Hao, Zhao Kaiyuan, and Zhao Gong—had all appeared in the meeting room.

Except for Zhao Gong, who still had sleepy eyes and held his pipe, everyone else had already finished reading the report summary sent by Chen Guang.

"Three hundred pages, Guangzi, are you writing a thesis? Can this be condensed a bit?" Wang Hao rubbed his eyes.

"Simply put, the aliens are releasing an encyclopedia, but they've only released up to high school level, hiding anything beyond that." Chen You presented the fault diagram.

"Moreover, they're calling for help, offering all their possessions in exchange for rescue."

Li Yang stared at the completion rates of those technology nodes: "Energy theory 99%…… materials science 96%…… information engineering 94%. If this is all true, just these basic theories alone would save us fifty years of detours."

"Not just that." Zhao Kaiyuan called up the model of the Black Tortoise Fusion Core.

"The energy field resonance topology mentioned on page 132 of the report—I've skimmed it briefly; if we can achieve it, the miniaturization of our fusion core could be improved by another 50%."

"50%?" Wang Hao's spirits rose.

"Then my missiles couldn't carry more explosives…… wait, that's wrong—more intelligent warheads?"

"First, forget the missiles; the point is, what threat could drive an interstellar civilization to desperation, forcing them to reveal their core technology?"

"To possibly gain a bit of aid, and the knowledge of interstellar travel—I see the technology as if it's been chopped off at the head and tail."

"Are they afraid that a civilization acquiring the technology would just flee directly?" Feng Yan said after tapping the table.

The meeting room fell silent for a few seconds.

Chen Guang pulled up the analysis details of the hidden information: "Limited time and the countdown of 187 are strongly correlated. Torch Dragon speculates this might be the other side's remaining…… some kind of resource, or time."

"Like a distress signal from a battery about to die?" Li Yang said.

"The metaphor is quite apt." Chen You presented the historical data of signal strength.

"Over the past three months, the total signal strength has already decreased by 0.3%, and the rate of decline is accelerating. If we extrapolate this trend……"

He wrote a string of formulas on the whiteboard, calculated for a moment: "In about 187 days, the signal will weaken to the point where our current equipment can no longer parse it."

"187 days……" Wang Hao counted on his fingers, "That's a little over six months. They only have six months left?"

"Or perhaps they hope we'll do something within those 187 days." Feng Yan said.

Zhao Gong finally spoke, tapping his pipe on the table: "So, are we going to help or not?"

The question was thrown out, and the meeting room fell silent again.

Help? How to help?

We don't even know where they are, their technology is clearly several orders of magnitude above humanity's, and they can't even handle the threat themselves—what can we do?

If we don't help? They've basically delivered a full package of technology to our doorstep—the value of this "gift" alone would be enough to propel human civilization into a new era.

Taking the stuff and not acting on it doesn't match the character of the Dragon Chant crew.

"Regardless of whether we help or not," Li Yang broke the silence.

"Technical verification must be done. The photon condensate control model mentioned in the report—Chen Guang, can you replicate it?"

"The theoretical model is quite complete; I've skimmed it briefly. If we combine it with Zhao Kaiyuan's fusion energy, we should be able to produce…… a new type of laser weapon." Chen Guang pulled up the relevant sections.

"How new?"

"Traditional lasers require massive cooling systems and power supplies. But this model describes a photon condensate that allows the laser to be in a highly ordered state before emission, cutting energy consumption by 70% and volume by 90%."

Wang Hao's eyes lit up: "So that means a personal laser gun?"

"You could also put it that way."

"What are we waiting for!" Wang Hao jumped up, "Let's build it! Forget whether the aliens are asking for help or not—first get the good stuff in hand, then talk!"

Feng Yan pressed him down: "We need to build it, but we must comply. Chen Guang, organize a team to conduct principle verification—all experimental data encrypted throughout, access limited to the core team."

"Understood."

"Kaiyuan, you work with Chen Guang to solve the energy adaptation issue."

"Good."

"Li Yang, keep an eye on the Penglai-2 design, but take some time to look at the report's heavy-platform stability algorithm; Zhao Gong said your new mech's bipedal load-bearing still has issues."

Li Yang nodded: "I've already been looking at page 178."

"Wang Hao," Feng Yan glanced at the most restless one, "you……"

"I know, I know!" Wang Hao raised his hand.

"I'm in charge of naming the new weapon, right? I've decided— the personal laser gun will be called Morning Star! The starlight before dawn, fast and accurate!"

Chen Guang glanced at him: "The name's not bad, but don't even think about adding rainbow effects to it."

"That's my art!"

When Chen Guang returned to the main control room, the interface of Torch Dragon-3 had another change.

"An autonomously launched task is running, titled: 'Global Observatory Network Access——Signal Source Tracking Enhancement.'"

"I didn't authorize this." Chen Guang frowned.

"Triggered automatically under the Potential Civil Threat Assessment Agreement." The system replied.

"Detected changes in the signal source's characteristics; higher‑precision observation data is needed."

On the screen, a world map unfolded, seventeen green dots lighting up—those are the observatory sites of Longguo in global cooperation.

Each green dot transmits data to the central server; the data streams converge in Torch Dragon-3, reconstructing the image of the deep‑space signal's source.

The originally blurry points of light gradually sharpened, revealing more detail.

The signal source is indeed outside the solar system, about 1.3 light‑years away, located in a sparse interstellar dust belt.

But strangely, the signal did not originate from a single point; it spread out from an area, like… a halo that was expanding.

Even more strangely, Torch Dragon-3 noted a new feature of the signal: it was 'attenuating', but not uniformly; instead, it varied in brightness and darkness rhythmically, like breathing.

The period was exactly 187 hours.

Chen Guang stared at that number, and a chill suddenly ran down his back.

He pulled up the meeting recording from three hours earlier, fast-forwarding to Wang Hao's words: '…like a distress beacon from a battery about to run out.'

Torch Dragon-3's synthetic voice then spoke up, calmly adding the analysis results:

'The signal's attenuation pattern matches the theoretical model of directed broadcast energy depletion with 92% accuracy. The sender may already be facing an energy crisis.'

'At the same time, a new mathematical sequence was detected embedded in the signal, preliminarily parsed as coordinate information.'

A set of coordinates popped up on the screen, a positioning method based on gravitational lensing effect.

After Torch Dragon-3 converted it into a form humans could understand, it marked it on the solar system star chart.

The location pointed to the outskirts of the Oort Cloud, about 0.8 light-years from the Sun.

There is nothing there—at least, nothing that humanity's current observational equipment can detect.

But the signal says there is something there.

It is on its way to the solar system.

Chen Guang took a deep breath, his fingers hovering over the keyboard for a few seconds, then he entered the command:

'All data, raise the encryption level to Xuanhuang-Absolute Secret. Generate a briefing, send it to Dean Feng Yan, marked as urgent.'

He paused, then added: 'At the same time, initiate the Morning Star Laser Gun principle verification experiment, raising its priority to the highest.'

In deep space, those signals continued to arrive, their intensity now weaker than last night by 0.3 per thousand.

The 187-day countdown has quietly begun.

But no one knows yet what awaits humanity at the end of this countdown.