Silence.
Silence stretched endlessly across the void.
Adam did not respond immediately. Floating in Neptune's orbit, he stared at the beaming O5 Councilor, remaining motionless for a long moment.
To be perfectly honest, this level of plot twist was almost too much for him to swallow.
This was an experience you simply couldn't get in other universes. In the Warhammer universe, for instance, you never encountered a feeling quite like this.
The people in the Foundation possessed a repertoire of jaw-dropping tricks; you could never guess how deep their contingency plans were buried.
What on earth?
He hadn't left a single trace upon arriving in this universe, and coming to Neptune was a spur-of-the-moment decision. Yet he had been spotted anyway.
How did they even track me down?
Unsure of how to respond, Adam cautiously created some distance. Rather than answering the Councilor's greeting right away, he raised his head and looked back at Neptune.
His perception swept across the planet instantly, bypassing the light-speed speed limit to take in every detail of the azure world in a fraction of a second.
Wait, something isn't right.
Adam frowned in confusion.
The planet was entirely too peaceful. Within his field of view, Foundation personnel walked through the corridors of space bases with calm expressions, utterly oblivious to the high-altitude meeting that could dictate the future of their world.
He could even spot a fair number of superweapons, but they sat silently sealed deep within storage vaults, showing zero signs of activation.
This was far too abnormal.
Was a Level 4 Reality Warper really so insignificant to the Foundation? With his current strength, destroying the entire solar system would take nothing more than a thought. They couldn't possibly be careless enough to approach him without any preparations, could they?
Wait, what is that?
Adam's gaze suddenly locked onto something.
He saw a figure. Deep within Area-11, inside an underground command bunker, a person sat quietly at an office desk processing paperwork. The room felt serene and peaceful, which wasn't unusual in itself.
However, Adam could see that this figure's appearance was identical to the O5 Councilor standing right in front of him!
That's impossible.
Could one of them be a body double?
No, his instincts as a Reality Warper told him it was far more complex. Both of them were the real deal!
Slowly withdrawing his gaze from the underground command room, he refocused on the O5 Councilor standing in the shuttle doorway.
Driven by instinct, Adam immediately expanded his anti-memetic barrier to cover the entire area before asking cautiously, "First, tell me—how did you know I would come here?"
"You'll understand sooner or later," the O5 Councilor replied with a smile, assuming an enigmatic posture instead of answering.
This cryptic behavior gave Adam a massive headache, making him feel his blood pressure spike. He was tempted to read the man's mind, but the moment the thought crossed his mind, he felt an intensely rigid reality level protecting the Councilor.
It was likely a high-power Reality Anchor shielding his body, forcing Adam to abandon the idea.
"Then who are you? I just saw someone identical to you down on Neptune—why is that?" Adam asked.
"Take a guess," the O5 Councilor's smile didn't fade. "I have a feeling you might actually figure it out."
Adam remained silent. He stared intently at the craft, focusing on the cyan exhaust pouring from its thrusters, treating it like the subject of countless files he had read before.
The tail flame burned silently in the vacuum, trailing a faint line like the tail feathers of a bird.
Then, Adam spoke slowly.
"...I understand now."
He seemed to recognize the craft's origin.
Item Number: CN-1559, "Bluebird."
CN-1559 was an entity recorded solely in ancient texts, possessing the ability for high-altitude flight or interstellar travel, often described as the legendary "Bluebird."
As technology advanced, the Foundation eventually uncovered its true nature: it was a project created by the Foundation of the future. Its core purpose was to use parallel-universe jump technology to travel to the past of other parallel dimensions, observing timelines identical to its own history to unravel historical mysteries.
In the process, the Foundation discovered that the mysterious "Bluebird," which had inspired humanity's yearning for the stars, was actually an FTL craft from another parallel universe enlightening their early civilization.
They lit the torch of our history.
Inspired by this, the Foundation used the same method to enlighten parallel-universe Foundations in their early stages of development, sparking curiosity about the stars within humanity—and the Foundation itself.
Through the butterfly effect, this enlightenment dramatically accelerated their steps toward the cosmos.
However, something still doesn't add up.
Adam knew this well. This still didn't explain how the guy had tracked him down.
The principle of the "Bluebird" relied on observing parallel universes; returning to the past meant jumping to another parallel universe with a different timeline, not actual time travel.
The Emperor's bridge had delivered Adam here—he was certain this was the exact universe he had visited before.
Why, then, did an O5 Councilor from a different parallel universe act so familiar with him, even calling him "Savior"—a title matching his past actions?
Wait...
Something's wrong.
Realizing something, Adam's pupils dilated abruptly. He snapped his head up and glared at the Councilor's smiling face.
The O5 Councilor spread his hands calmly. "How is it? The timeline discrepancies between parallel universes, the inverted causality across dimensions—fascinating, isn't it?"
Seeing Adam's shifting expression, he burst out laughing.
"Precisely what you're thinking."
"I called you Savior, and that is a rock-solid fact. However, I never said how you saved our universe."
The Councilor took half a step forward, laying bare the answer to the puzzle.
"That's right. Next, you will head to another parallel universe—my universe—and begin another journey of salvation."
"In a way, it's a unique closed-loop phenomenon. The universe you saved eventually developed parallel universe jump technology in the future, which then used that very tech to track down the you of the past."
A sly, meaningful grin spread across his face.
"So? Pretty interesting, isn't it?"
Adam rubbed his temples, falling into a long silence.
"I really didn't see this coming," he confessed honestly.
He had just reshaped six thousand years of history like playdough in the Warhammer universe, only to step into the Foundation universe and find himself trapped in a time loop. The crisscrossing parallel dimensions and distorted logic between universes left him temporarily dizzy.
How was he supposed to resolve this?
"So, what is your purpose here?" Adam asked directly, raising his eyes.
"Have you not guessed it yet?" Admiration leaked into the Councilor's voice.
"Based on the traits displayed by the future you in my memory, you ought to possess total, unreserved trust in yourself."
"Indeed—you naturally view yourself as a unified entity. Whether it's the past you, the future you, or even your split avatars, they all form one cohesive, cooperative whole."
"Every decision made by any version of you can be anticipated by another. That means you possess absolute self-knowledge—though calling such a trait 'self-knowledge' hardly does it justice."
The O5 Councilor's tone carried genuine praise. "Even among the Foundation's elite, such a quality is rare. Even without Reality Warping, you would probably make an exceptional Doctor."
"I strongly suggest you apply to the Anti-Memetics Division."
"Hold on, let's pass on that," Adam sighed, steering the conversation back on track. "So, it seems you have no intention of telling me directly."
"Correct. Why not guess what arrangements your future self made for the present you?" the Councilor said with a smile.
"Do I even need to guess?" Adam shook his head, looking at the Councilor with a helpless smile.
"Just hand over the Square Peg in a Round Hole."
"Haha, correct! Just as I expected."
The O5 Councilor snapped his fingers.
Following the gesture, a small briefcase was slowly ejected from the Bluebird craft, drifting silently through the void before landing steadily in Adam's hand.
Accustomed to such things, Adam made no comment on the briefcase's size.
The Councilor felt a slight tinge of disappointment—he had hoped to see a more dramatic reaction.
Instead, Adam calmly accepted the case and glanced inside.
"Just as expected," he murmured softly.
The briefcase contained a meticulously folded pocket universe, utilizing the Foundation's unique spatiotemporal tech with a baseline reality acting as its stabilizing core.
Inside this pocket dimension rested two items.
The object on the left was completely unknown. Its surface was covered by an anti-meme so potent that even a Level 4 Reality Warper couldn't pierce it, rendering its physical appearance, nature, behavior, and origin completely obscure. The only discernible piece of information was that it was definitely not "round."
Item Number: SCP-055, "Unknown."
The other item was equally indecipherable, though its physical form barely resembled a bottomless pit or aperture.
Item Number: SCP-579, "[DATA EXPUNGED]."
This was what he had requested.
This was the Square Peg in a Round Hole.
"Well then, my mission is complete," the O5 Councilor laughed heartily. Turning around without hesitation, he stepped back into the shuttle's cabin.
The hatch began to close.
At that moment, Adam adopted a serious expression and suddenly called out, "Wait a minute—can I ask you a few questions now?"
"Go ahead," the Councilor turned back, giving a slight nod.
Adam's expression turned somewhat subtle.
"I can tell you haven't revealed a single piece of useful information. Meaning, I have no idea what your Foundation universe is like, nor do I know why I went to save it."
"However, since you call me 'Savior,' I assume my future self accomplished incredible feats to save your world—enough for you to hand over something this precious without making any demands."
He paused, his gaze sharpening as he locked eyes with the smiling Councilor.
"Which brings me to the real question."
"This item was actually the reward I demanded in advance. Using it as payment for saving your world after the fact... isn't that a bit inappropriate?"
The O5 Councilor fell silent, shaking his head with a strange look on his face.
"You're overthinking it. Is there a possibility that the reward for saving our world was already given to the future you?"
Adam burst out laughing from sheer disbelief.
Incredible.
To think they could pull a trick like that—I have no choice but to believe it now!
"Alright, the problem now is that I know almost nothing about your world," Adam brought up his next question, the one he was most curious about regarding the future.
"In fact, I'm starting to think your Foundation only developed and refined the Bluebird project because of my suggestion in the present. So, I have just one final question."
Looking at the Councilor's intrigued face, Adam asked slowly:
"Based on the Foundation's standard evaluations, what level of Reality Warper was I classified as during my time in your universe?"
A mysterious look washed over the O5 Councilor's face.
"That is indeed a great question."
He tilted his head slightly, the smile on his lips deepening. "Let me think..."
Watching Adam's expectant expression, the O5 Councilor from another universe pondered for a moment before abruptly shifting the topic.
"As for that question... you'll just have to find out yourself later!"
He chuckled, abruptly slamming the cabin hatch shut.
The "Bluebird" shuttle vanished into the void effortlessly, as though it had never been there at all.
It left Adam standing alone in place, holding the briefcase in his hand.
"That really caught me off guard," Adam muttered, pressing his fingers against his brow with a frown.
He looked down at the briefcase in his hands.
Either way, his objective in coming here had been achieved. So next...
Adam suddenly froze.
What was he supposed to do next again?
Head back home?