Half an hour later.

There were 176 control panels in total.

Identical to those at the Golden Crow No. 1 Base.

Ji Yushi suddenly frowned; this was much more challenging than he had anticipated.

Each pair of control panels corresponded to two energy transmitters, continuously sending energy from both ends of PU-31, maintaining the balance and preventing it from being sucked into the void while providing energy.

Imagine, if too many energy transmitters were shut down simultaneously, PU-31 would lose its balance, leading to chaos—mountains collapsing and tsunamis would be the least of their worries.

Thus, based on the coordinates on the real-time model of PU-31, whether at Golden Crow No. 1 or Golden Crow No. 2, Ji Yushi had to shut down the control panels in the correct sequence to maintain balance.

He knew that once the mission was completed, PU-31 would cease to exist.

So, before the mission was fully accomplished, someone had to stay behind to perform the final operation and plan a route to avoid all the “black walls” and return to the original jump point, using the capsule to return to their own time.

Ji Yushi had long understood why their future selves kept choosing points for Teams A and B to extend the mission.

It wasn’t just because Squads 3 and 4 had the most people and the best chance to break the cycle, but also because the creation of two parallel timelines ensured that someone would be left to complete the final operation and maximize the chances of everyone returning.

Choosing this point was undoubtedly the result of countless cycles by their future selves, after countless attempts.

This raised a profound question—

On the two parallel lines, “I” in both instances are truly “me,” with full consciousness. Which of us should stay behind to complete this task?

The control panels were just a foot away, and the battle was intense.

The teammates fought fiercely, none willing to retreat.

Team B to Team A.

It was oneself fighting alongside oneself.

“Bang!”

Ji Yushi raised his purple right arm and took down a zombie, his expression unreadable beneath his dark lashes: “Have you ever discussed this question?”

The other Ji Yushi replied, “No.”

Ji Yushi wasn’t surprised.

Because he hadn’t thought about letting the teammates face this choice prematurely.

Struggling with oneself—that would be too cruel.

“There are two possible outcomes of completing the mission,” he asked. “Are you afraid that both might be wrong?”

“Yes,” the other Ji Yushi said calmly. “What about you?”

“Boom—”

An explosion interrupted their conversation.

Song Qinglan fired his last energy cannon, and the shockwave knocked everyone to the ground.

The giant spider’s body flew apart, the ventilation ducts exploded, and with a deafening crash, the creature hiding in the ducts finally fell to the ground, revealing its true form.

A mass of flesh composed of various species wriggled on the ground, covered in mucus, with countless tentacle-like appendages probing around, desperately avoiding the light.

The mass was so sticky and unwieldy that it could only slither and hide in the ducts.

As it writhed, human limbs and faces appeared on its back, moving as if still alive—it had absorbed the unmutated living humans from the base, merging them with itself.

Seeing this, and remembering the mucus still clinging to his body, Li Chun vomited violently on the spot.

The other Li Chun, though not fully understanding, saw himself reacting this way and quickly made the connection, also kneeling to throw up.

Everyone else: “…”

They simultaneously opened fire on the mass, quickly reducing it to pulp.

Two or three heavily injured giant spiders fell from above, dragging the remains of the flesh mass as they fled under the hail of bullets.

The remaining zombies were scattered. Everyone was exhausted, breathing heavily, occasionally firing a shot to keep the zombies at bay, too drained to move.

“Consultant Ji.” The two Song Qinglans stepped into the control room, speaking in unison, their timing perfectly matched.

The Ji Yushi in the black uniform said, “At Golden Crow No. 1, I’ve already shut down some of the energy transmitters in sequence. We just need to leave a route back to the jump point for everyone to reach safely.”

The Ji Yushi in the white shirt, looking paler and weaker than his counterpart, added, “That’s right. I’ll shut down the energy transmitters in sequence until the last one.”

“You’re staying behind?” The Song Qinglan on the left looked at him, and the one on the right also frowned.

No one could tell the two Song Qinglans apart.

In fact, everyone was the same.

There was the Li Chun covered in mucus and the one without.

There was the silent Zhou Mingxuan with small eyes, one standing, the other sitting.

There was Duan Wen with more blood on his face and the one with less.

There was Tang Qi with an injured arm and the other with an injured leg.

And there was Tang Le, the only one who seemed to have understood something, standing awkwardly between the two Tang Qis.

“The moment the last energy transmitter is shut down, the mission will be complete. At that point, the system will restart, and we all need to be safely seated in the capsule, ready to jump back to our original time coordinates. Otherwise, everything will be in vain,” said the Ji Yushi in the black combat uniform. “So someone has to stay behind.”

The Ji Yushi in the white shirt remained very calm, seamlessly continuing his other self’s words: “According to the plan, after the last of us is swallowed by the darkness, we will return to the anchor point, where one of us will already be. We will merge into one.”

Zhou Mingxuan asked, “But if the one who returns to the anchor point after being swallowed by the darkness comes back hours earlier than we do…”

Exactly.

The time of return after a team wipe was always 4:41 AM.

But it was now 4:00 PM, and the time difference between returning to the jump point and the anchor point was nearly 12 hours.

The Ji Yushi in the white shirt said, “In a normal timeline, it’s impossible for the same individual to exist twice. Once merged, the memories will overlap.”

The Ji Yushi in the black combat uniform continued, “At the moment of mission completion, we might experience a memory overload. No matter which of us is from the so-called ‘parallel timeline,’ we will ultimately become one.”

The Ji Yushi in the white shirt added, “So it doesn’t matter which of us stays behind. But I think the uninjured me would be more effective in returning to the jump point.”

The way the two Ji Yushis had fought side by side was so striking that they were now the sole focus of everyone’s attention.

The intense battle of this mission had led the team to trust Ji Yushi’s words completely.

Quickly, the Li Chun covered in mucus volunteered to stay: “I’ll stay.”

Then, Duan Wen, who felt more exhausted, and Tang Qi, with the injured leg, also chose to stay.

Tang Le, being the only one, had to leave with the main group: “I don’t have a duplicate… so I have to go, right?”

Tang Qi ruffled his hair: “Yes.”

Finally, there was Song Qinglan.

“I’ll stay.”

The tall man removed the dim red energy magazine from Shenmian and replaced it with a new blue one.

He glanced at the other version of himself and said, “I’m tired of fighting monsters; you can take over the journey.”

The other Song Qinglan lifted his eyelids: “No problem.”

Then, he looked at the teammates who had decided to leave and said in a deep voice, “Don’t be so sentimental. We’re just making choices with ourselves. Once we return to the anchor point, it’ll all be the same anyway. This is no different from saying goodbye to the half-asleep version of yourself from this morning.”

The strangely sorrowful atmosphere dissipated, and everyone seemed to snap back to reality.

As the captain, Song Qinglan always had the ability to clear his teammates’ minds and make them feel rejuvenated.

“There’s a spacecraft from Golden Crow No. 1 outside. We’ll head back to the jump point as soon as possible,” said the Ji Yushi in the black combat uniform. “We’ll stay in touch via the public channel. Be careful—there might still be other mutated species in this base.”

“Understood,” the other Ji Yushi replied.

No more words were needed; everyone just wanted to end this nightmarish PU-31 journey as quickly as possible.

At Song Qinglan’s command, the seven members swiftly departed.

Those left behind felt like the “weaker” versions of themselves.

From the beginning of the merger of Teams A and B, it was clear they were soon to part ways.

Was this the end?

They wondered.

Even though they were exhausted, finally reaching this moment of near liberation felt strangely surreal.

Had they really… reached the end?

Amid the piles of severed limbs, rotting corpses, and the overwhelming stench of blood, no one let their guard down.

From the first loop to now.

Could it really be over?

The once war-torn base suddenly fell silent. Occasionally, a giant spider would crawl by, but finding no vibrations to detect, it would scurry away through the damaged walls.

Li Chun and Duan Wen stood frozen, unsure of what to do, while Zhou Mingxuan helped Tang Qi to sit down.

A zombie crawled over through the blood and gore but was swiftly dispatched by Zhou Mingxuan with a knife.

At the control panel, Ji Yushi began shutting down the energy transmitters according to the calculated sequence.

There were 176 control panels and 88 pairs of energy transmitters. With each shutdown, a chaotic energy field would form outside, pulling the void into this world, creating what was known as the “black wall.”

PU-31 was gradually disappearing, leaving behind the only route for their escape. They knew that outside, a spacecraft was speeding through a world teeming with zombies and black walls.

Ji Yushi heard someone softly say behind him, “Consultant Ji, you lied again.”

Ji Yushi paused and turned around: “Why do you say that?”

Blood from the corpses stained Song Qinglan’s face, but his deep eyes remained bright.

For once, he smiled at Ji Yushi, and Ji Yushi couldn’t immediately tell which Song Qinglan had stayed behind.

But he quickly realized.

Because the person said, “The way you brainwashed everyone just now was exactly like when you said I was your boyfriend when you were held hostage.”

Ji Yushi: “…”

So it was the Song Qinglan from Team A, who had walked through this timeline with him.

Song Qinglan leaned on Shenmian with one hand, completely relaxed, revealing a rare laziness that wasn’t visible during battle, reminding everyone that he was just a regular person who could get tired too.

He said, “You’re not actually sure if the parallel versions of us will merge into one, are you? It’s just like that mass of flesh made up of various human bodies—it’s not just a mutation, but the consequence of multiple identical beings from parallel universes collapsing together in the same world.”

That’s right.

If the versions of them at the anchor point and those who return to the jump point after completing the mission don’t successfully merge, there’s a high chance of an incident similar to that flesh mass, where two versions of oneself overlap in a single body, resulting in deformity or death.

As an experienced captain, Song Qinglan’s knowledge of time and the universe was no less than Ji Yushi’s.

“That’s the worst-case scenario, and it might not happen,” Song Qinglan said, as if discussing something trivial. “But it’s very likely that the moment the mission is completed will be the moment we disappear.”

Ji Yushi lowered his purple right arm and stood quietly: “Then why did you stay?”

Song Qinglan replied, “Because I think you must have a backup plan.”

Ji Yushi’s heart skipped a beat.

Only the other Ji Yushi knew these thoughts, but since that was also himself, it wasn’t surprising.

Yet, having someone else figure out his thoughts felt strange—he hadn’t experienced this very often before.

Song Qinglan continued, “Regarding the black walls, I remember the first time they appeared was when we first arrived at the park management office, around 5:30 AM. However, whether at Golden Crow No. 1 or Golden Crow No. 2, we never shut down any energy transmitters at that time. I boldly speculate that the Sky Vault system has more than one anchor point. After being swallowed by the darkness, we’ll enter a new loop, reaching another anchor point until we shut down the first energy transmitter at 5:30 AM.”

“It’s like a larger loop enclosing this smaller one… except we don’t know and can’t be sure,” Song Qinglan added. “So, the only ones who can break out of this loop are them. Someone must stay here to complete this new loop, so that the ‘us’ who have just arrived at the jump point and are heading to the park management office will witness the arrival of the black walls. That’s the only way to complete the circle, making everything we encountered possible.”

Ji Yushi: “…”

At a predetermined moment, to complete a predetermined event, allowing everything that follows to happen.

Song Qinglan had figured it out.

In the Ouroboros model.

They create the darkness.

And then they become the ones chasing the darkness.

In some sense, this might be the true resolution.

This is another way of answering the mission’s objective: they would become literal pursuers of the darkness.

“Two ways of solving the problem, two preparations to complete the mission,” Song Qinglan said. “If you’re wrong, and the mission isn’t as complex as you think, then all of this that we’re doing now is unnecessary. After we die, the other version of ourselves will still make it back to the jump point and return to our time.”

“If you’re right, then after we’re swallowed by the darkness, we’ll enter a new, larger loop to shut down the first energy transmitter at 5:30 AM, completing that predetermined event—only then will the mission be truly complete. We’ll return to the original anchor point, just as if we never left that forest, still whole and intact.”

Ji Yushi was stunned.

Song Qinglan curled his lips slightly and said nonchalantly, “But you forgot, even if we’re wrong, we chose to stay behind ourselves. Sacrificing for yourself doesn’t count as a sacrifice. You don’t have to bear all this alone.”

Ji Yushi was just an ordinary person.

Even with his exceptional memory and observational skills, he couldn’t ensure that everyone on parallel timelines would return to the same world safely. This was the only method he could choose.

But how had Song Qinglan figured out everything he couldn’t say?

Then, the other Song Qinglan must have figured it out as well.

Recalling what the other Song Qinglan said before leaving, Ji Yushi realized it aligned perfectly with this Song Qinglan’s current attitude.

Song Qinglan tossed him something: “Did you really think the others knew nothing? Do you think they were just playing games during the lessons, like you?”

The teammates all looked in their direction, waving at Ji Yushi to assure him they were fine.

Ji Yushi looked down at what he had been handed—it was his black-and-white screen handheld console.

He was stunned: “This?”

“The other you gave it to me,” Song Qinglan said. “If there really is a new loop, and it takes that long, are you sure you don’t want something to distract you?”

Ji Yushi rubbed the console.

He heard Song Qinglan ask, “Was it a gift from your family?”

Ji Yushi murmured in agreement.

Song Qinglan was silent for a second or two, then said, “Let’s make a bet.”

Ji Yushi asked, “What are we betting on?”

Song Qinglan said, “I bet that your second way of completing the mission will succeed, and the outcome will be even better than you expected. If I win, you’ll stay in Sky Vault Squad 7.”

Song Qinglan’s expression was serious, his gaze deep.

It was the look of a captain who cherished talent and was eager to recruit.

Ji Yushi asked, “And if you lose?”

Song Qinglan had already found the last control panel.

At that moment, the other Song Qinglan’s voice came through the public channel, loud and clear to everyone: “We’re all in the capsule and ready.”

“If I lose…”

Song Qinglan muttered softly, almost to himself.

But in the end, he said nothing more and directly pulled the lever.

The last two energy transmitters at Golden Crow No. 2 Base, corresponding to the jump point, were shut down.

On the bloody battlefield in front of the control panel.

The massive Golden Crow No. 2 base.

Along with the remaining team members, all vanished into the darkness with PU-31.

Ji Yushi’s last impression of this world was the handheld console in his hand, still warm from someone’s touch…

And the broad back of Song Qinglan in front of him…