In space, the metallic flower fully unfurled. It wasn't a weapon—it was a massive projection device.
The entire sky above Earth turned into a screen, casting light across every continent, every ocean, every corner of the planet.
The image showed the inside of the Moon: the crystal filter, intact, but covered in a layer of black, web-like nanobots. They'd been introduced through Chang'e-7's drill hole, now permeating every inch of the system.
The scene shifted, revealing a figure unlike any other—slender limbs, a large head, three eyes arranged in a triangle, skin the color of polished silver.
It spoke directly into every human's mind, its voice calm, melodic, and alien.
"Greetings, Earth life-forms. We are the Observer Alliance—opposed to the Purge Fleets. We discovered your hidden planet 300,000 years ago."
"We have watched you, waited for you to uncover the truth. Now, the time has come."
The core beings' message burst across the channels, frantic, disbelieving:
"Impossible! The filter should block all external observation!"
"Your filter is impressive," the Observer said, its three eyes glowing gently. "But it has a flaw: it blocks biological signals, not gravitational waves."
"The Moon's mass fluctuations—caused by the filter's energy pulses—allowed us to lock onto your position two thousand years ago. We have been guarding you ever since."
The screen shifted to show the Purge Fleets, now stationary, their thrusters dimmed.
"These are not true fleets—they are autonomous machines, built by us to test civilizations. The real alien fleets," the Observer paused, "were intercepted a year ago."
Images flashed across the sky: a distant stretch of space, a battle silent and catastrophic. The Observers' ships—elegant, silver spindles—clashed with ferocious alien vessels.
Energy beams tore through the void; space itself twisted and warped.
"We won. Now, we offer you two choices."
"Choice One: We repair the lunar filter. You continue to hide, growing stronger until you develop interstellar travel. The cost: isolation. You will never join the galactic community."
"Choice Two: We deactivate the filter, guiding you into the Galactic Civilization Alliance. The cost: exposure. You will face the scrutiny of other civilizations—cultural shock, technological gaps, competition for resources. But you will no longer be alone."
Silence. Li Zhe stared at the sky, his mind racing. Humanity had spent its entire existence thinking it was a prey animal, cowering from hunters.
Now it turned out the hunters were zoo keepers—and the forest beyond the fence was vast, full of wonders and dangers alike.
"We need time to deliberate," the UN Secretary-General said.
"You have twenty-four hours," the Observer replied. "After that, the Purge machines will depart, regardless of your choice. They are tools, not threats."
The communication cut out. The sky returned to normal, the Purge ships hanging like steel clouds.
Li Zhe laughed—a short, bitter sound. "We thought we were rabbits," he said. "Turns out the hunter is a zookeeper, and the forest beyond is bigger than we ever imagined."
Twenty-four hours later, humanity and the core beings made their choice—unanimous. They would deactivate the filter.
Not out of bravery, not out of curiosity, but out of logic: if the Observers had protected them for a year, joining the Alliance was safer than hiding in isolation, fumbling toward the stars alone.
The Moon changed. Its silver glow faded, revealing its gray, pockmarked surface. The invisible filter dissolved like mist, drifting into space.
The Purge ships turned as one, their thrusters flaring to life, vanishing into the void at sublight speed. Their test was over.
The Observer's voice echoed one last time: "Welcome to the real universe. Our first contact fleet will arrive in ten years. Prepare yourselves."
Li Zhe stared at the stars, now clear and bright. Each one a potential home, a potential friend, a potential enemy.
"We're not alone anymore," Academician Wang said.
"No," Li Zhe corrected him. "We never were. We just didn't know it."
Earth's campfire—its long-hidden existence—had been extinguished. But the forest was finally revealed, its depths teeming with possibility.
Humanity's childhood was over. Adulthood waited among the stars.