This brief awakening has already consumed a significant amount of their origin power, and they need to return to a deep sleep state immediately to recover.
The other hangers started to quiet down gradually, with the light in their pods extinguishing one by one.
Since the highest-level being has given clear instructions, further discussion has lost its meaning.
But beneath the surface calm, each hanger is engaged in intense inner debate.
A hundred years of observation is but a fleeting moment for these beings.
Yet for those struggling in the reality, it’s a long enough time to change everything.
The Specimen Library returned to its past tranquility, with only the faint sound of the fluid in the pods and the occasional hum of the energy circuit reverberating in the air.
Within this silence lies an unprecedented sense of tension, akin to the calm before a storm.
In the darkness, only Drake’s pod occasionally flickers with faint light.
"A hundred years..." Drake silently chants this number to himself, the whirlpool of knowledge in his mind slowly rotating:
"Enough to make everything clear, and enough to make everything more... enigmatic."
The energy fluctuations in the Specimen Library gradually calm down, with the hangers slipping back into a half-asleep, half-awake state.
But beneath this surface calm, crucial information is being conveyed outward through secret channels.
Those hangers still maintaining a faint connection to the real world started hinting at the possibility of "adjustment" to the outside world in various clever ways.
Some influence their descendants through dream realms;
Some guide the astrologers’ predictions through divination results;
And some transmit information directly and discreetly to those trusted contacts in the real world.
These messages are intentionally blurred and symbolized during transmission to avoid attracting too much attention.
Yet for those receivers with enough wisdom and experience, the meaning is clear:
A certain high-level power is assessing the current state of civilization, and the evaluation results could decide everyone’s fate.
An internal subtle division began among the Conquest Faction.
Those Great Wizards who firmly supported Cassandra’s expansion policy started privately discussing risk assessments and exit strategies.
No one wishes to speak outright, but everyone is pondering the same question:
If they continue along the current path, where will it ultimately lead?
This is indeed a manifestation of high-level power games.
Applying pressure quietly, causing the target to unconsciously adjust their behavior trajectory.
Compared to direct coercive intervention, this method is more covert and more effective.
......
Ron sat alone at the Observatory in the North District.
Through the crystal dome, he gazed at the sky filled with artificial tree-like networks.
They are not naturally formed celestial bodies, but arrays arranged by generations of Great Wizards to construct a stable Magic Power network.
Every "star" is actually a giant crystal floating outside the atmosphere.
They are arranged in complex geometric patterns forming an energy transmission network covering the entire Central Lands.
The "restart" crisis revealed by Uther hangs like a sword over his head, preventing him from truly relaxing.
Fifty years? A hundred years?
In the scale of time measured by the Great Ones in millennia, this amount of time is just a fleeting moment.
And his current strength is still a great chasm away from the Great Wizard level required to survive the restart.
Tonight, the light from the artificial celestial bodies appears somewhat unstable.
The starry light, which was supposed to pulse rhythmically, now flickers erratically, like the gears of some giant machine beginning to loosen.
"Even the magic network feels tension..."
Ron gently touched the crystal railing, his fingertips sensing the faint tremor transmitted through it.
This tremor is a resonance reaction of the entire Magic Field of the Central Lands.
Like a giant living organism trembling in fear.
The energy flow around the manor has become more active, similar to how a creature’s muscles involuntarily contract when tense.
Even those usually docile horticultural creatures displayed anomalies.
The brightness of the luminous moss increased by thirty percent, and the swinging frequency of the tendril vines was much faster than usual.
The whole environment is conveying a silent warning: a storm is about to come.
At that moment, the Tri-Element Communication Crystal placed in the corner of the Observatory suddenly started to flash.
It was a yellow flash imbued with an urgent meaning.
Ron immediately recognized it as the urgent contact signal he had set up.
He quickly moved to the crystal, placing his palm gently on its surface.
The magic circuit connected instantly, revealing Eliot’s slightly fatigued face in the projection.
Unlike his usual spirited state, tonight Eliot appeared exceptionally haggard.
His golden curls lost their usual luster, his blue eyes were bloodshot, even his voice carried a noticeable fatigue.
More striking was the environment behind him.
It was not his usual luxurious study in communication but an underground chamber clearly intended for secrecy.
The stone walls engraved with complex soundproof runes.
"Ron, finally got hold of you!"
Eliot’s voice carried a sigh of relief:
"I’ve been trying to reach you for the past week, but the signal interference from the observatory has been too severe."
"What happened?"
Ron keenly sensed the anomaly in the other’s state:
"You don’t look well, and also... why communicate from a secret chamber?"
Eliot shook his head with a wry smile, his right hand unconsciously massaging his temple:
"Tension? If you knew the recent changes in the Central Lands, you’d be tense too. My ’Wind of Listening’ talent has hardly stopped sounding the alarm recently, the entire magic network is conveying unsettling messages."
Fear flickered in his eyes:
"Do you know that feeling? It’s like... it’s like the whole world is whispering in your ear, telling you something dreadful is about to happen."