"How do you know that?"
The voice of the lead agent captain changed noticeably; the tone, once as flat as stagnant water, finally showed cracks. A flicker of movement, difficult to catch, flashed in his hollow eyes, like a sudden fissure splitting a layer of ice.
The faces of the other agents were likewise filled with unconcealable shock. They looked at each other, their eyes full of "this is impossible" disbelief. These soldiers, who had been acting with machine-like precision just moments ago, now seemed struck in a vital spot by an invisible force, freezing in place.
"This is impossible," another agent muttered.
The details of Project Pneuma, the code name "Hard to Heart," even the existence of "What Comes After"... all of these required extremely high clearance to understand. Even within the Foundation itself, not everyone was privy to this information. Some researchers stationed in specific locations had known nothing about it and died immediately at the hands of those meant to protect them.
The agent's hollow eyes stared intently at Adam. "And as of this moment, we have confirmed that you do not belong to any known Foundation personnel files."
"Who on earth are you?" The captain's voice regained some of its calm, but the sense of emptiness had mostly dissipated, replaced by vigilance and confusion.
Adam met those gazes calmly, the shield of his armor still emitting a pale blue halo. "You can think of me as a traveler from another universe. Seeing that a major situation has clearly arisen here, I believe I can offer some assistance."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the faces with their complex expressions. "Then, let me introduce myself again. The universe I come from can be simply understood as a Foundation world with technology far more advanced than yours. This should be easy for you to comprehend, right?"
The agents looked at each other in silence. Someone opened their mouth but said nothing.
"And in that world, weaponizing and even scientificizing the anomalous is a widespread pursuit," Adam continued, his voice echoing in the command room. "The anomaly of today is the technological frontier of tomorrow. This is the philosophy we pursue."
He took a step forward, the feet of the Hunting Rig making a heavy thud on the metal floor. "Therefore, I currently possess certain advanced technologies, especially in the field of the Noosphere. One of them might just be able to help you, filling in your shortcomings."
Though the agents' eyes remained lifeless, the expressions on their faces were genuinely stunned. Despite the hollow void deep in their gaze, the shocked expressions made them feel a bit more "human."
Adam looked at these expressions and suddenly gave a light laugh. "I thought you wouldn't show any emotion at all."
Hearing this, a flash of complex emotion appeared on the captain's face—part helplessness, part self-mockery. "I suppose, given how deeply you understand this, you should also know, right?" he said testily. "With the help of the memetic cure, we have only briefly blocked its influence so that we cannot feel any pain. That's all. We haven't lost our internal emotions."
The captain's tone carried a bit of dissatisfaction, a bit of... liveliness. Adam nodded thoughtfully. To some extent, these people who were forcibly stripped of their perception of pain were more like normal people in certain aspects—their reactions were more direct and undisguised.
"However, just to be safe, we need to perform one more experiment," the captain cleared his throat and spoke slowly.
"It's name is ██████"
Adam froze. The moment those sounds entered his ears, they felt as though they were being blocked, twisted, and scrambled by an invisible barrier. It sounded like a string of corrupted code—syllables were shattered, and the meaning was completely unparsable, as if someone were playing a heavily jammed radio signal in his ear.
His brow furrowed slightly, and he instinctively took half a step back, eyeing the other man warily. What was he saying? Some kind of terminal meme? He quickly checked the armor's external filtration system—everything was normal, and no abnormal fluctuations were detected.
"So it is," the captain's voice interrupted his thoughts, his tone carrying obvious relief. "You aren't affected by that damn thing."
Adam was stunned for a moment, then he understood. "You were using 'What Comes After' as a test?"
If Adam remembered correctly, in the foreseeable future, Foundation agents would use this exact method to speak directly in front of their interrogators. It caused veteran commanders and doctors to collapse on the spot, eventually leading to the fall of the Global Occult Coalition's final doomsday base.
"Exactly," the captain nodded. "Any being that has been influenced by it will have a violent rejection reaction upon hearing speech at this specific frequency—ranging from a mental breakdown to dying on the spot. Your reaction just now was merely confusion, which means..." He paused and took a deep breath. "It means you truly have no connection to it."
Adam was silent for a moment, then nodded slightly. "I'm glad we could reach a consensus."
However, the captain's tone shifted and grew heavy again. "Although I hold no hope for the technology you brought—that anomalous entity can only be solved by the method we came up with. Or, in your universe, has your Foundation already solved this trouble?"
"Of course not. I even believe that kind of thing doesn't exist in our universe at all." Adam shrugged, the shoulder plates of his armor making a slight mechanical whirring sound. "You know, different Foundations have different situations. If nothing else, if our Foundation wanted to destroy the world, they would only need to control the Unity in near-earth orbit and fire a single shot at the planet's surface. They wouldn't need to arrange such a fancy array of anomalous weapons like you have."
He paused, his gaze carrying a hint of scrutiny. "And research into the collective unconscious, or rather the Noosphere, is not something you beginners can compare to."
His tone was calm, but the amount of information in his words left everyone present in silence. Adam said, "In a way, you've had it quite rough."
The captain was silent for a long time before finally giving a light sigh. "Who hasn't?" He looked up, his hollow eyes staring directly at the visor of Adam's armor. Though he couldn't see the face behind it, he knew the other was looking at him. "What is your request?"
"I need to meet with the administrators of the O5 Council."
The moment the words fell, the entire command room fell into a deathly silence. The faces of the agents showed unspeakably complex expressions. The O5 Council. It was the most mysterious institution of the Foundation. Thirteen Overseers who controlled everything about the Foundation. They knew the details of every containment project, the truth of every operation, and the secrets behind every secret. For the vast majority of Foundation personnel, they wouldn't see a single one of them in their entire career. So many mysteries surrounded them that some low-level personnel even doubted if they truly existed.
The captain's breath clearly hitched for a moment. "That is not for me to decide," he said in a low voice. "I will report this upward."
Adam nodded. "I will wait."
Of course, he said that, but in fact, he didn't wait long. About twenty minutes later, in a brightly lit conference room, Adam stared at the holographic image that had slowly begun to activate, falling into a brief silence. There were no excessive introductions, no tedious confirmation procedures, and not even any form of verification. Just like that, he was brought here and told the meeting was about to begin.
Adam glanced at the time, then at the holographic device, unable to resist complaining in his heart: To be honest, isn't this efficiency a bit too fast?