Arknights, but the sickly pretty girl starts

Lu's eyes widened. This certainly sounded like something Ed would do.

"The most infuriating thing," the prophet rubbed her temple, as if recalling the past gave her a headache, "is that when the Minister of Security personally came to chase them away, this guy actually said something serious like, 'A real scientist should have a sense of adventure.'" She imitated Ed's lazy tone, drawing an exaggerated arc in the air with her finger. "But at that time, he was already so furious about the failed experiment that his face was red, so it wasn't very convincing."

Precious suddenly interrupted: "Don't forget the 'gift' he gave you on your birthday."

The prophet's expression suddenly became complicated. "A box of 21st-century 'collector's edition' vinyl records," she gritted her teeth, "all heavy metal. There's also a note attached—" She took a deep breath and imitated Ed's cynical tone, "'I heard you like quiet? These can cure your frigidity.'"

Lu almost choked on his own saliva.

"But you're right," the prophet's tone suddenly softened, her gaze settling on Lu. "Although that guy is an incurable nostalgia addict, he has a very sharp eye." She tapped the table lightly. "He's never actively recommended more than five people in his life—the last student he praised so highly was also a top biologist before he committed suicide..."

Precious suddenly leaned closer to Lu and lowered his voice: "You know what? He calls Ed 'the last romanticist of human civilization.'"

She blinked.

"Although we privately feel that he's more like 'the last troublemaker of human civilization.'"

The prophet suddenly smiled, a smile tinged with a kind of nostalgia that Lu couldn't decipher. "But if there weren't these 'troublemakers' like me..." Her gaze passed over the laboratory dome, as if gazing at some distant starry sky. "How boring would this dying civilization be?"

"Your story must be fascinating..." Lu's voice was filled with unconcealed yearning, her fingers unconsciously making a soft, creaking sound as they brushed against her lab coat. She treasured every trace of her idol, those dog-eared paper files, the academic lectures replayed repeatedly on holographic projections, even the scraps of paper auctioned by the prophet—every trace of him was treasured like a sacred relic. "The third mathematical revolution you spearheaded, the topological model of spacetime you reconstructed..." Her eyes lit up as she mentioned these terms. "I could recite every formula in your paper in my dreams."

The prophet suddenly reached out and pressed Lu's shoulder. This action made the young researcher freeze - she had touched her idol's protective suit, which might still be stained with the scent of the most advanced technology laboratory... No, that was a completely sterile laboratory. What was she thinking?

"Lu," the prophet's voice was rarely rid of any playfulness, like metal stripped of its plating, revealing its true texture. "The documentaries you see will never show this—"

She reached out, manipulated her personal terminal in mid-air, and pulled up a holographic recording. It showed a twenty-year-old prophet, devastated and crying over a screen full of error codes. "Look! This is what your admired genius looked like when he first independently modeled something."

Precious suddenly laughed out loud, and reached out to retrieve more images from the database: "And this! Someone in the lab isn't eating properly, but is cooking instant noodles with their mouth—"

"Hey!" The prophet's ears flushed as he covered his companion's mouth. But more images were already playing automatically: crumpled draft papers tossed around in the lab late at night, sudden inspiration scribbled on napkins, the awkward appearance of all the researchers sleeping on the hallway floor before a major breakthrough. Most striking was a faded old photograph: the young prophet stood before the giant first-generation particle collider, dwarfed like a child who had strayed into a temple.

"Science is never a solitary adventure." The prophet gently tapped the badge on Lu's chest, the metal making a crisp sound. "The quantum encoder you're wearing now has a core algorithm derived from a mocked madman three hundred years ago. The scanner you're using to observe wormhole formation uses a calibration technique invented by a technician in the Martian colony." Her fingertips traced the patent tree diagram that appeared in the air. Countless unfamiliar names twinkled like stars. "Without these 'ordinary people,' we wouldn't even be able to take the first step."

The prophet looked at the flowing points of light and muttered softly, as if talking to himself: "You know what? The greatest discoveries are often made when coffee is spilled. Sometimes it's an apple hitting someone on the head—sometimes it's a sudden flash of inspiration before bed. Many times... it's really just coincidence."

Lu stared blankly at those names. She had never seen them in textbooks before—the cleaner expelled from the academy for insisting on "absurd theories," the young girl secretly conducting experiments in the colonial maintenance room, the old man who died without ever seeing the results of his experiment...

"But history will only remember the person who pressed the confirmation button last..." Lu unconsciously clenched the hem of his lab coat.

"So we have to remember it ourselves." The Prophet suddenly opened a locker and pulled out an old metal box. Inside was a chaotic pile of yellowed sticky notes, each one bearing a date and an unfamiliar name. "This is the 'Forgotten Files,'" she said, carefully tracing the writing. "Everyone who participated in this project left a mark here."

Precious suddenly interrupted, "Including that robot that always brings us late-night snacks—it's now working as a museum guide. Its memory module is damaged, but fortunately, we've repaired it as best we can. Although some damage is irreversible, it's helped us preserve precious data."

Starlight streamed through the dome, casting a shadow over the three of them. Lu suddenly realized she was standing in a galaxy of countless glimmers—those unrecorded failures, those buried brilliances, those ordinary yet indispensable supports—they were the true power that held up the stars.

"Next time you write a paper," the prophet winked, "remember to leave a line blank in your acknowledgments section—for the future 'idiot' who might benefit from your mistakes."

This may be the most romantic story Lu has ever heard.

Those forgotten people have now surpassed the prophets and become the coolest group of people in her mind.

The prophet who reminded her of this also gained a higher level in her mind. If she had admired the prophet in the past because of her achievements or because she was promoted as a leader in science, now what made Lu envy and admire her was her character.

"Okay, we should go now. I hope we can work together on a project next time, Lu." Precious looked at his watch and reminded him, "We still have a lot of things to do, Doctor. You can't rest yet."

"... Damn it... Every time you say this, I feel a chill in my heart. Can you say it differently next time? Are you deliberately trying to cause me PTSD?" The prophet said helplessly, "Also, don't use this sentence as an alarm when you set an alarm for me next time. My little heart really can't take it!"

"No, that won't do. You must never forget what I said, nor my body shape, in your life." Precious shook her head playfully and refused. The two said goodbye to Lu and left the hall side by side. Lu was still looking at their backs, but she didn't stay for too long. She immediately returned to her laboratory. Her excellence was enough for the college to prepare a laboratory specifically for her, and the first thing she did when she arrived at the laboratory was to restart the experiment.

As the lab's automatic door closed behind her, Lu's fingertips still clung to the warmth of their contact with the prophet. She pressed her palm against the cold lab bench, the metallic chill seeping through her skin and into her veins, but it couldn't quench the fire burning fiercely in her chest. The experimental model, frozen for so long on the holographic screen, was reloading, and the pale blue data stream flickered before her eyes like a galaxy.

"Error code: 47B..."

When the system notification chimed, Lu's lips curled up in an unprecedented smile. Three months ago, this error message had caused her to tear up an entire stack of draft paper; now, she almost jumped for joy as she clicked on the error details—those red warnings that had once driven her to despair now seemed as captivating as a deciphered code.

"So it's here..." Her pen tip traced a smooth arc in the air, and the revised formula hovered in the center of the console. At some point, she suddenly understood the images of failure the prophet had shown her—those moments cut out by history might hold truths more precious than success.

The unique bacterial colony in the incubator suddenly erupted with unusual specks of light. According to the textbook, this should have called for the immediate termination of the experiment. However, Lu increased the magnification, allowing those rebellious specks of light to create a pattern in the culture fluid that defied textbook norms. Her pupils reflected these "erroneous" glows, and she suddenly laughed.

"You're both very unhappy about this, aren't you?" she whispered to the spot of light, her finger swiping across the control panel as she titled the experimental log "Anomaly 47B Observation Log: Undefined Phenomenon 1-12." When saving it, she deliberately left a blank line in the acknowledgments column—for some future fool who might find direction in her "mistake."

Outside the window, the projections of the city's neon lights were stretching out in the night sky. She stayed in this laboratory for three full days and three nights.

Lu thought of those names that had never been recorded: David, Kefir, Losda, and countless other "losers" who had made their way through mistakes. In her lab coat pocket, the old CD was slightly warm, like the residual warmth of an era that had penetrated time and space.

"Continue." She pressed the restart button, and the spots of light in the incubator suddenly merged into one. This time, she chose not to correct the errors, but to let them grow wildly—like all the crazy ideas that were not favored. Error? It was just the right thing that had not yet been named.

Time and again, what was once a crazy mistake no longer matters, and every line of data is worth remembering.

After countless crazy attempts at trial and error, her desperate attempt finally paid off - in the experimental vessel, a strange virus that madly devoured all organic matter around it was forming.

"I should give you a name... You're always glowing red, but it's also black... How about I call you the Blacklight Virus?"

She looked at the prototype growing wildly in the petri dish and finally revealed a tired yet excited smile.

"It's decided, Blacklight Virus. This will be your name from now on."

Chapter 40: We are heading to Terra

The emergence of the Blacklight Virus seemed natural... and did not cause any sensation in the world.

On the one hand, the Blacklight Virus was essentially just a directional experiment, without any practical application. Furthermore, in this era, humanity had already established research and development stations on countless planets. In its heyday, there was practically one operating on every visible star. From organic-devouring scarlet fungi to silicon-rewriting crystalline plagues, databases were already crammed with samples far more dangerous than the Blacklight Virus. The alien life forms writhing in the incubators, some capable of tearing apart carbon fiber skeletons, others secreting antimatter spores—in comparison, the Blacklight Virus was just another piece of self-replicating protein code.

On the academic committee's screen, the review regarding the Blacklight virus was brief and almost harsh: "Directional Verification Experiment No. 47, characteristics highly overlap with the original Tiancang V γ-9 strain." The comparison map attached below showed the two gene chains overlapping like twin brothers. This meant that it didn't even meet the threshold of being a "new discovery," and could only be filed under the sub-category of "Variant Supplementary Data."

What's even more ironic is that in the "Sample Library of All Things" established at the peak of human civilization, even numbering seems redundant - when you have already collected quantum viruses that can corrode the outer shell of a neutron star, who would still pay attention to a sequence that can only reorganize mammalian DNA?

The project leader finally scribbled at the end of the report: "It is recommended to transfer to the basic theory group for further observation." This line of words was quickly automatically translated by the system into a more official statement: This achievement does not have the value of priority resource allocation.

And so the Blacklight virus sank, lost in the abyss of human science's heyday, like pouring a glass of water into the Mariana Trench; even the most sophisticated detectors couldn't register a change in the water level.

——To be honest, even Lu himself didn’t think this was a big discovery.

However, she may have underestimated her own abilities. When she was about to forget the Blacklight Virus in the corner of her memory, she received a communication from her mentor during her graduation trip after successful graduation. At this time, she was still buying some local souvenirs for her friends. After all, a graduation trip... is also a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

But when she heard her mentor's excited words, she froze. The souvenir in her hand—a crystal ball containing a sample of Kepler-22b's atmosphere—slipped from her fingers, bounced on the deck of the spacecraft, and rolled into a corner.

"The administrator wants to see you." The instructor's voice was distorted beyond recognition, each syllable trembling. "The founder of Eden! She's read your paper on the Blacklight Virus!"

Lu felt her knee hit something hard, but she didn't feel any pain. She heard the blood pounding in her eardrums and her own dry voice asking, "Are you sure... it's not a duplicate name?"

"That damn virus model of yours!" the instructor's hologram began to distort with excitement. "Listen, kid, I just received a triple-encrypted quantum communication—an invitation signed by the administrator himself!"

The teacher excitedly recounted, "The administrator who founded Eden! She specifically wants to meet you! She read your paper and thinks you're talented! Although she hasn't explained it clearly yet, she might want to recruit you into Eden!"

What? The Blacklight Virus? The appendix that the academic committee deemed "lacking practical value," the crazy conjecture she'd almost forgotten?

"... Is this true?... Teacher, please don't lie to me. That... that's the Garden of Eden..."

In this era, the name of Eden is more than just a top scientific research organization. It is no exaggeration to say that Eden is the hope of mankind and an existence that all researchers in the world can only dream of. During the time when she graduated, she heard that the Prophet, Precious, Ed and others had joined Eden.

The administrator lady who suddenly appeared calmed down all doubts in the shortest time.

Every scholar who has communicated directly with the administrator uses as many gorgeous words as possible to describe the administrator's knowledge and talent. She is like a walking human think tank.

As for the mysterious administrator, the rumors on campus are even stranger than superstring theory.

My senior in the laboratory said that the administrator once solved the collapse equation of the Dyson Ring in Cygnus in three minutes - using the back of a napkin.

The senior student at the observatory swore that she had seen with her own eyes the administrator operating seven parallel space-time particle collision experiments at the same time, just like an ordinary person browsing a web tab.

The most exaggerated revelation was made by the head of the physics department after he got drunk: when human civilization was facing the "Great Silence" crisis, it was the administrator who single-handedly simulated 129,600 escape plans on a quantum computer - which exactly corresponds to the "number of one" mentioned in the "Book of Changes".

Admittedly, these rumors are mostly exaggerated due to excessive admiration for the administrator. In reality, she is an extremely rigorous and low-key scholar. She has published only a few papers, but each one has revolutionized its field. Her groundbreaking ideas and solutions have even been described by her peers as "flashes of wisdom that transcend human cognition."

A solid theoretical foundation, subversive innovative thinking, and an almost inhuman perspective on problem-solving - this is the true image of an administrator in Lu's cognition.

But the fact that she was so deified only confirmed her lofty status in the academic world. And now, this beacon that led human civilization forward actually took the initiative to ask for an audience?

She really felt like she was being hit by Lord Bull's apple at the speed of the first universe...

"I'll be back right away!" At this moment, she felt that she was returning to school too slowly. Even with the fastest jump equipment, it would take another 48 hours to return to the academy.

If "longing to go home" refers to the Rockets, then that would probably describe her current mood...

After hanging up the phone with her mentor, she first spun around in circles, then jumped up and down to express her excitement, and then immediately pinched herself.

"Hiss!" The sharp pain in her nerve endings drew a sharp breath, followed by a long-suppressed cheer. Like a space tourist experiencing zero gravity for the first time, she leaped onto the bed. The anti-gravity fabric mattress creaked under the weight of her rise and fall, and she used the reaction force to leap higher and higher, like a mad mara.

"Eden! Administrator! Long live the Blacklight Virus!" Her excitement was evident in every syllable that was trembling uncontrollably.

However, she was a little too excited. She was so excited that she didn't notice the size of the person sent by the hotel staff, nor did she notice that the door of her room had been opened. She also didn't notice that the black-haired girl with a mask who was called to the door was the one she shouted "Long live..." Miss Administrator.

The administrator calmly looked at the girl in front of him who was jumping and dancing on the bed. No one knew what she was thinking because of the mask. But the prophet behind her had already started covering her face. Her habit of embarrassing others came back again. After knowing that Lu had completed the research on the blacklight virus, it was he who recommended the paper to the administrator.

Unexpectedly, the administrator was much more proactive than he had imagined. After glancing at the paper, she immediately arranged to meet Lu. They had originally planned to go to the college, but Lu's tutor informed them that Lu was on a graduation trip. The restless administrator immediately changed the course and came here at the fastest speed through their special channel - Kepler-22b.

After reporting to the hotel staff, she got Lu's room card with the consent of the college leader, which led to this...dramatic encounter.

"...Ten thousand..." After who knows how many times she had shouted "Ten thousand years", Lu finally realized that she was no longer in her own private room. She turned her head and saw the administrator leaning against the door frame waiting for something, and the prophet and Precious behind her. She froze -

"...It's okay, you can continue to express your excitement," the administrator said, but there was a hint of humour in his tone. "We were abrupt, but if you mind, I can close the door and you can dance for another two or three minutes. It won't be a problem."

Her cheers came to an abrupt halt, like a paused projection. With the final creak of the mattress rebounding, Lu remained in a comical position, kneeling on one knee. His pupils reflected the three figures at the doorway—the black-haired girl leaning against the doorframe, a smile on her lips. The mask only covered the upper half of her face, but it didn't rob her of her smile.

"Theoretically..." The administrator's voice carried the calmness characteristic of the laboratory, his fingertips tapping the edge of his mask. "We should have our initial meeting in the reception room."

She moved aside to make room for Lu to see the prophet behind her, whose shoulders were shaking from trying to suppress his laughter, and Precious, who was taking photos and recording at the speed of light.

"But Ed insisted..." the corners of his mouth curved beneath his mask, "'A true genius has to have some unexpected situations.'"

The prophet suddenly uttered a muffled whine through his fingers: "Oh my God... I should have known that this child's mentor was Ed..."

She reached out and tugged at the administrator's clothes, and whispered out of sympathy.

"Should we just...close the door first?"

Before he finished speaking, Precious had already shaken the camera in his hand considerately.

"I've finished filming. I'll post it in the group later."

The Blacklight virus researchers were experiencing a physiological reaction even more intense than the viral mutation itself: a crimson flush spread from the tips of their ears to their collarbones at a visible rate. Fortunately, the administrator wasn't a pervert who'd exploit others' pain points; that was usually Ed's job. She gave Lu time to recover, and only spoke after she'd finally calmed down.

"I'm very interested in your research, especially the concept of the [Blacklight Virus]." The administrator smiled at her and leaned forward. "Those black spots dancing in the petri dish... you've endowed them with an almost voracious desire to evolve. I've read your paper. You described your experimental procedures in great detail, and I noticed... you recorded a lot of data that traditional biologists would call 'erroneous,' and you..."

The administrator's masked face turned toward Lu. "You've reserved three full pages of observation logs for them. You seem to be using your intuition, your unique talent, and your acumen to guide the direction of your experiments. This is a manifestation of your talent, and also... this is why I'm interested in you. What are your plans after graduation?"

"...You...you mean..." Lu's face was still flushed, and he asked with some hesitation, "Are you inviting me to join the Garden of Eden?"

The administrator smiled at her. "You have a talent. Even scholars steeped in biology for years would struggle to come up with such... insane ideas. Your endless desire for survival and rapid evolution, coupled with your profound understanding of genetic modification... I believe you possess this talent, and it just so happens... we need a bioengineer."

"You mean... the Garden of Eden? The one that housed the Prophet, Precious, and..." Her Adam's apple rolled, "even Professor Ed..."

"I think I've made myself clear... I need you." The administrator extended her hand sincerely. "If you're willing to dedicate your entire life to this work, I need you. I need everything about you: your life, your wisdom, and your talent."

"...I..." Lu raised her head and looked at the administrator's black mask. She suddenly hesitated. Most people would nod in agreement directly, but she keenly felt something in these words. She had a feeling... If she really agreed here, then her life would go on a completely different path.

But... who cares...

She recalled a scene in "Lawrence of Arabia" that impressed her the most. Lawrence liked to extinguish matches with his fingers, and there was no special technique for doing so.

The trick is just… not being afraid of pain.

And now, she has the same idea.

"I am willing to give you everything..."

After all, the person in front of her really has a kind of magical charm. Not to mention her, she thinks that no one in the world can say no to her. No wonder the Prophet, Precious, and Ed are all under her command. She has such charm.

The two people standing outside the door were very relaxed at this time. In fact, they had never thought that the administrator would fail. As long as she personally invited someone, no one could refuse her.

Even Precious and the Prophet could not resist her charm.

"Seriously...isn't our administrator some kind of succubus?" Prisseth couldn't help but grumble. "She really can make people loyal with just a few words..."

"Who knows...and even if she is a real succubus, we can't get off the boat."

The prophet smiled.

"We are heading to Terra."

Chapter 41: Ishamara (Pre-Civilization Version)

Terra, a lonely planet on humanity's interstellar frontier, is but a speck of dust in the vast star map. Its vast distance from Earth has long left it in the shadows of scientific research archives—although it has been included in research catalogs since the heyday of human civilization, it has never attracted any real interest from scholars.

On this temperate planet, a primitive civilization called the Tikaz has quietly sprouted. They have established a unique belief system and developed aesthetic standards that differ greatly from those of humans. Their twisted keratin structures and asymmetrical features appear grotesque and hideous to humans. Yet, it is precisely this difference that has allowed Tikaz civilization to maintain its unsettling purity, untainted by any foreign influence.

Terra's true wonders lie not in these primitive races, but in the colossal beasts that roam the continents—named by humans as "Behemoths." These towering, mountainous creatures, their ecological habits remain a mystery. Sometimes they slumber for centuries, sometimes they suddenly transform the landscape, as if the entire planet were a dream theater for these ancient beasts.

As human civilization retreated among the stars, the Administrator turned her attention to this forgotten corner. No one understood why she chose Terra—a planet with no strategic value, lacking resources, and even ranked last in colonization assessments. But history has proven that this seemingly arbitrary decision was like the last straw a drowning man grasped at.

——Of course, Lu was not among these doubters.

Now Lu's worship for the administrator has reached a fanatical level. Even her former teacher Ed suspects that the administrator has drugged Lu.