For the next thirty-six hours, the digital networks frequented by the Awakened became a battleground of words and reputation. The two competing prophecies—one from the official, state-sanctioned National Prophet Division, the other from the anonymous, newly-famous "Oracle"—became the single hottest topic of debate.
The vast majority, naturally, sided with the establishment. On the public Hunter's Guild bulletin boards, veteran hunters and guild representatives scoffed at Oracle's prediction.
User_TitanSlayer99: "Are people actually taking this 'Oracle' seriously? The Prophet Division has access to quantum supercomputers and a network of precognitive sensitives. This Oracle has... what? A keyboard? Stick to the official channels. Spreading this kind of misinformation is irresponsible and will get people killed."
User_AegisRecruiter: "We at Aegis Dynamics urge all hunters to follow government directives. Unverified intelligence is a greater threat than any monster. The official perimeter at the Southern Delta sector is the only safe zone."
But a vocal, stubborn minority pushed back. These were the independent hunters, the small squads, the ones who had personally benefited from the OSE-Model 1. For them, Oracle was not just a name; he was a savior.
User_StrayDogCroc: "You guild suits can laugh all you want. I personally watched Oracle's last 'misinformation' turn a Shrieker's guts into soup. My team is alive because of him. My money's on Oracle."
User_Nomad-Lead (in a rare public post): "A hunter's greatest tool is their own judgment. Evaluate all available data. Make your own choice. My team will be monitoring both locations."
Lin Mei's neutral but pointed statement added fuel to the fire. The debate raged, a war of words that was a prelude to a very real, physical event.
In a sterile, white office within the Prophet Division's headquarters, a young analyst nervously approached his superior. "Sir, regarding the anonymous 'Oracle' prediction... their mathematical model, while unorthodox, shows a startlingly high internal consistency. The chroniton decay rates they cite... they align with some of our more fringe, theoretical research."
His superior, a man with a smug, self-assured face, waved him away without even looking up from his screen. "Fringe theory is just a polite term for 'wrong,' son. Our models have a 99.8% accuracy rate over the last decade. We are the authority. Do not waste my time with fanfiction from the internet. It undermines public confidence."
The institutional arrogance was a wall thicker than any Abyss monster's hide.
Su Liying was not convinced by authority. She was a scientist at heart, and she believed only in data. And the data she was gathering was pointing towards an impossible conclusion.
Using her student council credentials to gain privileged access to the school's digital archives, she delved deeper into the academic life of Qin Mo. It was a trail of perfect, calculated mediocrity, except for the glaring anomaly of his physics scores. Then, she accessed the library's checkout records.
Her eyes widened.
In the past year alone, Qin Mo had checked out books that no high school student, no matter how brilliant, should be reading. 'Advanced Spacetime Geometrics.' 'Quantum Chromodynamics and Its Metaphysical Implications.' 'A Comparative Analysis of Pre-Awakening Runic Symbology.'
These were not books for a student. They were research materials for a seasoned, post-doctoral academic.
She cross-referenced the checkout date for 'Studies in Higher-Dimensional Spacetime' with the date of Oracle's post on the Hunter's forum. He had checked out the book two weeks before Oracle had mentioned "chroniton particle readings" and "spatial harmonics."
The correlation was too strong. The puzzle pieces were no longer just fitting together; they were snapping into place with magnetic force. The unnatural calm. The perfect physics grades. The esoteric reading list. The dry, academic tone of the Oracle.
She leaned back in her chair, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and exhilarating discovery. She had no concrete proof, nothing she could show to anyone else. It was a chain of circumstantial evidence that would sound insane if spoken aloud. 'The school's biggest failure is secretly the legendary anonymous prophet who is shaking the world?' It was preposterous.
And yet, in her heart, she knew she was right.
She made a decision. She would not expose him. This was a secret of a magnitude she couldn't even begin to comprehend. Instead, she would continue to watch. She would find her own proof. The mystery of Qin Mo had become her personal quest.
The thirty-six-hour countdown reached zero.
At the Southern Delta, the location predicted by the Prophet Division, the scene was one of impressive, organized might. A massive perimeter had been established. Trenches were dug, energy shields were humming, and thousands of elite hunters from the major guilds stood ready, their weapons gleaming under the portable floodlights. It was a perfect picture of humanity's power.
There was only one problem. Nothing was happening.
A general looked at his watch, a frown creasing his brow. "Status report! Are we sure about the timeline?"
Fifty kilometers to the north, in the remote, marshy wetlands predicted by Oracle, the scene was vastly different. There was no army, no grand perimeter. There were only a few dozen small, rugged-looking independent hunter squads, scattered amongst the reeds and muddy banks. They had come here on a gamble, on a prayer, trusting the word of a ghost on the internet.
Lin Mei and her Nomad squad were among them, perched on a rusted, abandoned water tower, acting solely as observers per Oracle's command.
Then, at the exact time Oracle had predicted, the air began to shimmer.
It started like heat haze above asphalt, a subtle distortion in reality. Then, a single, black dot appeared in the air, no bigger than a pinprick. It did not grow; it tore. With a sound like ripping fabric on a cosmic scale, the black dot tore open, revealing a swirling, nauseating vortex of purple and black energy.
The Level 4 Rift was open.
And from its depths, the Abyssal Razorcrabs began to pour out. They were horrifying creatures, the size of small cars, with thick, crimson shells, multiple scythe-like legs, and massive pincers that could snap steel beams in two. They scuttled out of the Rift, their many eyes glowing with malevolent hunger.
The few hunter squads on site were immediately thrown into a desperate, chaotic battle.
Back at the official zone, alarms blared to life. "Sir! We have a confirmed Level 4 Rift opening!" an operator screamed. "But... but the coordinates are fifty kilometers north of us! It's the anonymous source's location!"
Panic erupted in the command center. The general's face went pale. They had been completely, humiliatingly wrong. "Redeploy! Redeploy all forces! Now!" he roared. But it was too late. It would take them at least an hour to reach the real battlefront.
For the hunters fighting for their lives in the marsh, that hour was an eternity they did not have.
But they had not come unprepared. They had come because they believed. As the Razorcrabs charged, the hunters activated their new weapons. A chorus of high-frequency hums filled the air as dozens of homemade OSE-Model 2s powered on.
The effect was instantaneous and brutal.
The sonic pulses, precisely tuned to the frequency Hephaestus had designed based on Oracle's knowledge of armor resonance, struck the charging Razorcrabs. Their thick, crimson shells, which could normally deflect energy rifle blasts, began to vibrate violently. Micro-fractures spread across their surfaces like spiderwebs. With a series of sickening cracks, the once-impenetrable armor shattered, exposing the soft flesh beneath.
What should have been a slaughter became a turkey shoot. The hunters, now able to target the monsters' vulnerable bodies, fought with a savage efficiency, their confidence soaring. The tide of the battle, against all odds, had turned.
Hours later, the digital world was in an uproar. The news was unavoidable.
[PROPHET DIVISION SUFFERS HISTORIC FAILURE! RIFT OPENS 50KM FROM PREDICTED ZONE!]
[INDEPENDENT HUNTERS SAVE JIANGNAN PROVINCE, CONTAIN LEVEL 4 RIFT THANKS TO 'ORACLE'S WARNING'!]
[WHO IS ORACLE? THE MYSTERIOUS PROPHET'S LEGEND GROWS!]
The name "Oracle" was no longer a myth whispered on niche forums. It was now a legend, spoken of with awe and reverence by the public. He had proven himself, not with power, but with knowledge.
In his quiet bedroom, Qin Mo watched the news reports on his phone with no visible reaction. His focus was on the secure chat of [Channel: Zero].
Old-Man-Jiang: The world is in chaos. The Prophet Division's reputation is in tatters. Your name is on everyone's lips, Oracle. They are calling you a living god of prophecy.
Hephaestus: HA! The OSE-2 worked even better than I'd hoped! Those government fools and their 'official models'! They wouldn't know a chroniton particle if it bit them on the nose! Glorious!
Nomad-Lead: The independent squads who listened to you... they see you as their patron saint. They've formed a loose coalition, the 'Oracle Alliance,' and they are prepared to follow any command or guidance you issue.
Qin Mo read their excited messages, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the screen. He processed their reports, their elation, their loyalty. It was all data. It was all part of the plan.
He typed a single, cold, and powerful reply, a message that would pivot their entire operation from passive influence to active recruitment.
Oracle: Good. A legend has value. Now, we will spend it. It is time to recruit.