Interlude V – What Source?
As Chris Xiong tuned the resonance frequency of the Bamboo R&D facility's local IP Vault node, quantum detection arrays across the globe registered the same impossible reading: quantum entanglement patterns establishing across the zero-point field that should not have existed.
The source was untraceable. The signal had no origin point, no directional signature, no conventional electromagnetic footprint. It simply existed everywhere at once, as if the vacuum of space itself had suddenly organized into a structured pattern before returning to chaos.
The Federation
Admiral Harrow stared at the readings flooding his intelligence centre. Three separate quantum research installations had detected the anomaly simultaneously—an impossibility that his physicists couldn't explain.
"Sir, we're looking at zero-point field manipulation on a scale we didn't think was theoretically possible," his chief scientist reported, voice tight with disbelief. "Whoever generated this pulse has quantum field technology decades ahead of anything in our classified programs."
The stolen ECSE-v2 shard had resonated with the pulse, its five-dimensional crystal structure responding to frequencies the Federation couldn't identify. More disturbing still, preliminary analysis suggested the pulse had been probing—testing for compatible quantum signatures, mapping responses.
"Recommendations?" Harrow asked.
"Full security review of all quantum research facilities. If someone has this capability, they can potentially access any quantum-encrypted system we operate. Our entire information infrastructure could be compromised."
The briefing that reached the Federation Executive Council was stark: an unknown actor possessed quantum field manipulation technology that made their most advanced systems obsolete. The implications for national security were catastrophic.
Gaule Republic
In the underground laboratories beneath the northern mountains, Dr. Elisabeth Moreau watched her instruments with growing alarm. The quantum field pulse had triggered responses in equipment that shouldn't have been affected by external signals.
"The coherence patterns suggest artificial vacuum state manipulation," she reported to the Ministry of Science. "This isn't natural phenomenon. Someone has weaponised quantum mechanics at a fundamental level."
The Gaule Republic's intelligence services immediately classified the readings under the highest security protocols. If foreign actors possessed such capabilities, it represented a paradigm shift in technological warfare. Emergency sessions were convened. Research budgets were reallocated. The pulse had lasted only seconds, but its implications would reshape national priorities for years.
Southern Commonwealth
The atmospheric monitoring stations scattered across the Commonwealth's vast territory had detected the anomaly as an electromagnetic signature with no identifiable source. Initially dismissed as cosmic background radiation, the synchronized timing across multiple installations raised immediate flags.
"The readings are consistent with theoretical papers on zero-point field engineering," the Commonwealth's chief physicist briefed parliament. "The technology required to generate such a pulse is beyond our current capabilities by at least thirty years."
Emergency funding was approved for quantum research initiatives. Intelligence services began monitoring for any signs of similar technological developments in neighbouring regions. The Commonwealth had always prided itself on technological independence; the pulse had demonstrated just how far behind they might actually be.
Republic of the Houses - Hall of Concord
The chamber felt like a pit—smoke, silence, and eyes full of knives. The emergency session had dragged through the night, all eighteen Patriarchs stewing in rage as the impossible readings were presented: quantum field disturbances using zero-point field technology that existed only in their most classified programs.
The Bear Patriarch leaned forward, knuckles white on stone, his voice a growl. "I fucking told you bastards this would happen. ZPF research was Bear House IP—my engineers, my facilities, my blood and treasure poured into it for decades. And what did you cocksuckers do? You whined like spoiled children that it wasn't fair for one House to hold it all."
He spat on the floor. "You ganged up—seventeen clans barking in chorus—and ripped it from our hands to 'share' it across your distributed nodes. Said it was too dangerous for one House to control."
The Sky Patriarch slammed his palm against the table. "Don't pin this shit on us! You think we'd let you fat fucks sit on a monopoly while the rest of us starve for scraps?"
"Better starving than fucking dead!" the Bear roared back. "At least the tech would still be secure instead of scattered across god-knows-how-many facilities for any rat to sniff out. You forced us to dilute it, spread it thin, and now look—some bastard's broadcasting our most classified research to the whole goddamn world!"
The Dawn Patriarch's voice cut cold through the noise. "Your House's greed isn't wisdom. You didn't want to 'protect' the research—you wanted to hoard it like a dragon on gold."
"Call it greed, call it hoarding, call it whatever makes you sleep at night," the Bear snarled, standing with fury shaking his frame. "But every enemy that comes knocking, every son and daughter we lose because some cocksucker leaked our ZPF tech—their blood is on your hands, not mine. You broke something that was working because you were too chicken shit to let the Bear guard what the Bear built."
The Bamboo Patriarch finally spoke, his voice deadly quiet. "And if we hadn't forced the redistribution? You'd have used ZPF as leverage against every other House. We'd all be your vassals by now."
"At least we'd still have our fucking secrets!"
The chamber erupted—accusations flying like daggers, each Pillar turning on the others with decades of suppressed rivalry boiling over. Trust shattered completely as they blamed each other for the catastrophe none of them could explain.
The lesser Houses watched in stunned silence as the Four Pillars tore each other apart, knowing that if ZPF technology had been compromised, every secret the Republic possessed might be bleeding into enemy hands.
Chris Xiong
In his quarters within the Bamboo facility, Chris sat on the edge of his narrow bed, staring at the black ring that circled his finger. The exotic matter pulsed with a warmth that seemed to echo his heartbeat, and with each pulse came fragments of awareness—distant points of light scattered across continents like stars in his peripheral vision.
He could feel them. Remote resonance points his father had embedded in the quantum foam decades ago, waiting for activation. Each one was a potential gateway that could liberate knowledge from the Republic's vaults and give it to the world.
But the choice was his to make. Which nations deserved access to medical breakthroughs that could save millions? Which peoples had been denied innovation long enough? His father had built the keys to every lock, but Chris would have to decide which doors to open.
The weight of that responsibility pressed against his chest like a stone. Every choice carried consequences. Every activation would mark him as a traitor to the Republic and a target for every intelligence service on earth.
Yet somewhere in the world tonight, researchers were failing to cure diseases that Republic patents could heal. Engineers were struggling with problems that Republic innovations had solved years ago. Farmers were watching crops die that Republic agricultural science could save.
His father's voice echoed in his memory: "Knowledge belongs to humanity, not to the eighteen Houses."
The ring pulsed against his skin, warm with possibility and heavy with danger. Soon, very soon, Chris would have to choose where in the world he was willing to go, and who he was willing to trust with the power to reshape human civilization.
The revolution his father had prepared was waiting for him to light the first spark.
But first, he had to decide where that fire should begin.