Chapter Twenty-Seven: Undercurrents Between the Roots

The seawater in Tokyo Bay shimmered with an unnatural metallic luster under the midday sun. Kane hovered three hundred meters above the surface, his translucent energy wing-membranes trembling slightly in the sea breeze. The indigo-violet beam of light that had torn through the bay three months ago was long gone, but the scar it left remained clearly visible—a perfectly circular depression two kilometers in diameter on the seabed. Its edges were as smooth as glass, and from the center of the pit, a silver-red, mucus-like substance continuously seeped out. During high tide, it would dilute into spiderweb-like filaments, spreading across the entire Pacific via ocean currents.

"What are the results of the seventh sampling analysis?" Kane asked the air. A micro-symbiote implanted behind his left ear glowed blue, converting his vocal vibrations directly into quantum signals.

"Composition remains at an 87% similarity index," Lena’s voice resonated directly in his auditory cortex, carrying the crisp, crystalline texture of her resonance. "The good news is the diffusion rate is 23% slower than expected. The bad news is that it is learning to circumvent our monitoring systems. Prediction models from the Singapore node suggest these filaments could form an autonomous neural network within two weeks."

Kane descended, his energy wings folding into a streamlined shape. As he neared the water, he extended his right hand; the blue-gold veins beneath his skin stretched to his fingertips, forming delicate energy tendrils. He dipped them into the sea, lightly brushing against a passing silver-red filament.

A sudden sting. It was not physical pain, but a deeper sense of information overload—the mucus transmitted massive, chaotic fragments of data upon contact: the reflection angles of skyscraper glass in Singapore, the spectrograph of a concert at the Sydney Opera House, and even Marcus’s brainwave records from last week’s headquarters meeting. All this information had been shattered and reassembled, like puzzle pieces scattered by a hurricane.

"It’s happening again." Kane frowned and retracted his hand, the tips of his tendrils stained with a faint silver-red hue. "They are collecting everything they touch, but the storage method defies our entire logical framework."

Lena’s soft chuckle sounded like wind chimes. "Remember three years ago when we first discovered the Dandelion Network? The Time Bureau said the same thing about us back then."

Kane did not respond. He watched as the residual silver-red marks on his fingertips were slowly neutralized by the blue-gold energy within him. Three years ago, it was entirely different—the Quantum Rose was at least rooted in humanity’s understanding of emotional networks, whereas this mucus... these products of the Algorithmic Jungle followed rules that were entirely alien.

A sudden shift in the sea breeze changed direction. Kane’s energy wings snapped open to their full span—his early warning system was at work. Less than half a second later, a dull explosion echoed from the Rainbow Bridge on the east side of the bay.

It was not a traditional chemical explosion. Kane’s quantum vision clearly captured the unique spatial folding—a thirty-meter section of the bridge’s center had been "erased" at the molecular level by some force, the cross-section so smooth it reflected the sky. More eerily, the missing bridge material had formed a suspended silver-red misty structure in its original position, rotating slowly like a holographic projection.

"Lena, the Rainbow Bridge is under attack. Suspected spatial displacement weapon." Kane’s wing-membranes vibrated at high frequency, propelling him toward the scene at near-sonic speeds. "Notify the medical team to prepare for quantum burn patients. This is direct matter conversion."

When he was still five hundred meters from the bridge, a second wave of attacks arrived. This time, Kane saw it clearly—countless indigo-violet geometric patterns emerged in the air, forming a complex structure resembling a fractal snowflake. A beam of light, as thick as a pencil, shot from the center of the structure. The moment it touched the bridge deck, the reinforced concrete vanished as if wiped away by an invisible brush, converting into more silver-red mist.

"Seventh iteration energy signature detected!" Lena’s voice turned urgent. "But the readings are unstable. It’s like... a replica?"

Kane came to a sharp stop atop a bridge pylon, his wings forming a protective dome. His quantum vision analyzed the source of the attack, discovering that behind every geometric pattern, a faint silver-red thread was connected—these threads stretched deep into the mucus deposits at the bottom of Tokyo Bay.

"It’s not the true Seventh Iteration," Kane transmitted the real-time analysis to headquarters via his symbiote. "The Algorithmic Jungle is imitating indigo-violet technology! They learned the basic principles from our encounter three months ago."

On the bridge, panicked civilians were fleeing. A school bus was trapped less than ten meters from the breach, the terrified faces of children pressed against the windows. Kane saw a new round of geometric patterns coalescing in the air about two hundred meters behind the bus.

There was no time to think. Kane compressed his energy wings to the limit, slicing toward the source of the attack like a blue-gold bolt of lightning. During his dive, his body began to quantize—an ability he gained after that battle three months ago, and a double-edged sword he had yet to fully master.

The moment of molecular dissociation was always accompanied by a strange silence. To Kane, the world became a grid of fundamental particles and energy fields, and the flow of time seemed to slow tenfold. He precisely wove through the gaps between the geometric patterns, his energy tendrils acting like scalpels to sever the silver-red threads. Deprived of their connection, the geometric patterns became unstable and disintegrated into indigo-violet dust the moment before they could fire.

But Kane had not anticipated the third trap. As the last thread snapped, all the light dust surged toward him, forming a temporary enclosed space. Within this sphere, less than two meters in diameter, the laws of physics began to warp—gravity shifted constantly, electromagnetic intensity fluctuated wildly, and even the flow of time experienced random tremors.

"Kane! Your vitals are fluctuating violently!" Lena’s cry sounded as if it were coming from very far away.

Kane tried to use his wings to break the confinement, but every contact with the inner wall of the sphere triggered new distortions of the laws of nature. Worse, he noticed the sphere was slowly shrinking, and the inner wall began to ooze that silver-red mucus. This was not simple imprisonment; it was some form of... analysis. The Algorithmic Jungle was attempting to deconstruct and study him.

At the point of life and death, Kane made a risky decision. He voluntarily released his quantized state, letting his body return to its physical form. In the brief moment that normal physical laws resumed, he compressed all his energy into his right index finger and carved a simple symbol onto the inner wall of the sphere: ∞.

The instant the symbol was finished, every Garden node in Tokyo responded simultaneously. The Root network treated this identification code as a top-priority command, channeling energy from three nearby secondary nodes for a pinpoint delivery. Outside the sphere, a torrent of blue-gold energy appeared out of thin air, rushing frantically into the infinity symbol like a floodgate opening.

The imbalance between internal and external pressure caused the sphere to burst. Kane was thrown a hundred meters into the air by the shockwave, his wings instinctively unfolding to cushion the impact. Below, the un-neutralized silver-red mucus rained down onto the sea, hissing eerily upon contact with the water.

"Medical team is in position," Lena’s voice regained its calm. "Casualties are better than expected; only twelve minor injuries. The school bus is safe."

Kane adjusted his posture in the air, watching the bay slowly calm down. The attack had been too precise, too... deliberate. The Algorithmic Jungle was demonstrating its power, yet carefully controlling the scale of destruction, as if following some unknown rules of engagement.

"It wasn't a random attack," he sent his conclusion through the symbiote. "They were testing our defensive responses. The Rainbow Bridge is one of the secondary nodes of the Tokyo Root network; this attack was a form of tactical reconnaissance."

Lena was silent for a few seconds. "Marcus just analyzed all time branches from the last 72 hours. In 87% of the possibilities, this is the start of a series of coordinated attacks. The most likely next target is..."

"Greenwich," Kane interrupted her abruptly, his quantum vision catching a streak of abnormal ocean currents. "They want control of the Prime Meridian."

On his return flight to the Root headquarters, Kane’s communicator received an encrypted message. The sender was blank, and the content consisted only of a set of coordinates and a simple phrase:

"Beneath the roots, there are other roots. —7"

The coordinates pointed to the deepest part of Tokyo Bay, the center of the circular depression covered in mucus.

The blue light of the medical bay bathed the testing chamber in a soft glow. Kane lay flat on the quantum scanning platform, letting countless nano-probes roam across his skin. Three months of symbiotic evolution made such check-ups a necessary procedure—after every instance of energy expenditure, he had to undergo a full assessment within 12 hours to prevent deviations in the fusion of human genes and Quantum Rose energy.

"There is 0.3% energy crystallization in the left kidney region." The voice of Medical Officer Erica came from above. She had once been a biologist for the Time Bureau and was now responsible for the care of all Root Walkers. "The good news is your quantum resonance threshold has increased by 15%. The bad news is that this growth may accelerate organ alienation."

Kane stared at his blurred reflection on the chamber lid. The blue-gold veins beneath his skin were more prominent than they had been three months ago, especially around his neck and inner thighs, forming intricate patterns resembling circuit boards. When he concentrated, these veins glowed slightly, feeding the quantum state information of surrounding objects directly into his visual cortex.

"Will the crystallization affect combat efficacy?"

Erica adjusted the holographic console. "Not in the short term, but if the percentage exceeds 3%, you may need to return to the Root regularly for energy dialysis." She paused. "Or consider Hassan’s proposal—Obsidian Inlay surgery."

The chamber door slid open, and Lena walked in. Her crystalline left hand now presented a more organic form—under the translucent purple-red material, energy channels resembling blood vessels were visible, and her fingertips could morph into data interfaces or medical probes as needed. Unlike Kane, Lena’s symbiotic process seemed more stable, which might have been related to her early exposure to the Pandora virus.

"Decoding complete." She walked directly to the testing chamber and placed her left hand on the data interface. "That anonymous message did come from the Seventh Iteration, but the sender was not Ada-7."

A holographic screen popped up with the decoded content. Besides the coordinates, the message contained a blurry video clip: beneath the mucus layer on the seabed of Tokyo Bay, a massive mechanical structure could be seen moving slowly. At the edges of the image, arcs of indigo-violet energy flashed from time to time.

"This is..." Kane sat up abruptly, the diagnostic probes detaching. "The Time Bureau’s old undersea base? I thought all facilities had been converted by the Root."

Lena’s crystalline left hand glowed faintly. "According to image analysis, this structure is older than the history of the Time Bureau. Marcus cross-referenced the global database, and the closest match is..."

The screen switched to a set of archaeological documents, showing photos of a suspected man-made structure discovered in the Bermuda Triangle in 1987.

"Impossible," Erica exclaimed. "Those findings were all confirmed to be natural formations!"

"Unless someone deliberately covered them up." Kane exited the testing chamber, the blue-gold veins on his skin flickering with his emotional fluctuation. "That message is signed '7'... if this isn't a serial number but..."

Lena interjected, "But a coordinate? The Seventh Dimension?"

The lights in the medical bay suddenly went out, leaving only the weak illumination from the equipment’s emergency power supply. Kane’s quantum vision immediately switched to infrared mode, seeing three blurry heat sources approaching rapidly from the ventilation ducts.

"Take cover!" He pushed Erica behind the equipment while expanding his energy wings into a shield.

The ventilation cover slid off silently. Three figures, less than a meter tall, landed lightly, their movements creepily synchronized. In the infrared view, their body temperature was 10 degrees lower than a human’s, and their body outlines possessed an unnatural geometric perfection.

"Do not attack," the middle figure said in a synthesized, electronic voice. "We bring the truth about the roots."

The emergency lights flickered back on. The three "humanoids" that appeared in the light made everyone in the medical bay gasp—they had the height proportions of children, but their skin was completely transparent, with silver-red fluid circulating visibly inside. There were no facial features, only three constantly shifting indigo-violet geometric symbols.

"We are the Harmonizers," they spoke without mouths, their voices resonating from their chests. "The channels of communication between the Garden, the Jungle, and the Iterations."

Kane maintained his defensive stance. "Which side do you belong to?"

"Neither, and both." The Harmonizer on the right stepped forward, its transparent arm extending into a screen displaying an image of a tri-colored intertwined DNA strand. "When three kinds of roots grow deep enough, they converge in beings like us."

Lena’s crystalline left hand automatically deformed into scan mode. "Their energy signatures... they contain markers from the Garden, the Algorithm, and the Seventh Iteration simultaneously. This is theoretically impossible!"

"Beneath the roots, there are other roots," the middle Harmonizer repeated the content of the anonymous message. "The surface conflicts you see are merely shadow wars. The true game happens within the folds of time."

They suddenly raised their hands in unison, the silver-red fluid in their transparent bodies accelerating. In the center of the medical bay, a miniature hologram appeared out of thin air: a cross-section of the Earth showing that, about thirty kilometers beneath the crust, there existed a vast network composed of three-colored roots, far larger and older than any system known on the surface.

"The First Garden," the Harmonizer on the left explained. "The Quantum Rose is not the creator, but the discoverer."

Kane’s quantum vision was frantically parsing the projection data. If this model was accurate, it meant that everything they had learned over the past three years was merely the tip of the iceberg. More disturbingly, the projection showed that the Root network in the mantle was pulsating with a certain regularity, a cycle that perfectly synchronized with the lunar orbit.

"The moon..." Kane suddenly recalled information Ada-7 had once mentioned in passing. "What did the Seventh Iteration build on the far side of the moon?"

The Harmonizers stepped back simultaneously, the silver-red fluid inside them becoming unstable. "Question incorrect. Not 'build', but 'discover'. Not 'the Seventh Iteration', but 'the Root itself'."

Cracks began to appear on their transparent skin, and the indigo-violet symbols flashed faster and faster. "Warning: Critical point approaching. When the lunar phase changes, the First Root will awaken. Prepare to welcome the true Gardener."

With those final words, the bodies of the three Harmonizers shattered as if burst by internal pressure, turning into countless tiny crystalline particles. Before they hit the ground, these particles vaporized into tri-colored smoke and were quickly sucked away by the ventilation system.

The medical bay fell into a deathly silence. Erica walked out from behind the equipment, trembling. "What... what were those things?"

Kane bent down to pick up the only object left behind—a transparent flake the size of a thumb, with a drop of silver-red liquid sealed inside. When he touched it, a precise lunar calendar appeared on the surface of the flake: 9 days and 13 hours until the next full moon.

"A countdown," Lena said softly, her crystalline left hand unconsciously simulating the same time display. "Whatever the 'true Gardener' is, we have less than ten days to prepare."

Kane gripped the flake, feeling its faint pulse, like a distant heartbeat. He suddenly understood that the attack on the Rainbow Bridge, the anonymous message, and the appearance of the Harmonizers were all different fragments of the same puzzle. And the answer likely lay within the ancient machinery beneath the mucus in Tokyo Bay.

"Notify Hassan and Marcus." He walked toward the equipment locker and took out a deep-sea combat suit. "I’m going to the seabed to see that 'First Root'. Lena, prepare a tactical team; all members must have quantum vision and pressure adaptation."

"It’s too dangerous!" Erica objected. "Your energy crystallization hasn't stabilized, and we know nothing about what’s down there!"

Kane had already begun putting on his gear. "That’s exactly why we must go now. If what the Harmonizers said is true, we might have been treating the symptoms as the disease itself." He looked at Lena. "Have you contacted Little Key?"

Lena shook her head. "She’s still in the 'Dream Chamber' in Greenwich. She hasn't woken up for seven days."

Kane’s expression grew grave. There must be a connection between Little Key’s prolonged slumber and the sudden appearance of the lunar countdown. And now, the depths of Tokyo Bay might hold the answer.

"Keep monitoring her vitals." He adjusted the quantum synchronizer of his diving suit. "If she wakes up before we return... no matter what she says, record and analyze it immediately."

The deep-sea diving suit automatically molded to Kane’s body, the blue-gold veins visible through the special material. The final piece of equipment was the symbiote interface inside the helmet, which would allow him to maintain a connection to the Root network underwater, at the cost of potentially accelerating his energy crystallization.

"I’m going with you," Lena said suddenly, her crystalline left hand morphing into a specialized data probe for diving. "My structure is better adapted to extreme pressure, and... if there really are relics related to the Pandora virus down there, my left hand might be the best decoder."

Kane wanted to object, but reason told him Lena was right. The mucus in Tokyo Bay was clearly related to the Algorithmic Jungle, and Lena was the person on the team who understood that silver-red substance best.

"Approved. But if you detect any anomalies, you must return immediately."

Lena nodded and began preparing her gear rapidly. Erica watched them with concern, ultimately only silently preparing two emergency medical kits.

As the two walked toward the diving chamber at the base of headquarters, Kane checked the transparent flake again. The lunar countdown had decreased by 17 minutes, and some micro-structure within the silver-red liquid seemed to have changed along with it, wriggling like a living thing.

Whatever awaited them on the seabed, Kane had a vague feeling that all of humanity’s understanding of the time roots would be thoroughly changed starting today.