Sword of Dawnbreaker

Chapter 1227: Chapter 1226: The Pages Have Turned Yellow

In the vast matrix hall, the buzzing sounds of ancient machinery resonate between silver-white metal pillars, sometimes coming together like the peculiar melody of wind chimes—a sound Ophelia vaguely remembers hearing when someone visited her long ago, describing the mental sounds she emitted as ”wind chimes” in the days before this underground facility was sealed.

But that was long ago, so long that even tireless machines have stored the relevant data in the deepest part of databases, and now no living person will knock on these ancient, dust-covered doors. In this vast underground facility, only soulless Iron Soldiers and cold magical mechanisms accompany her, this sleepless ancient ghost.

The resonance between pillars gradually becomes low and slow, and the holographic projections that clearly depict scenes outside the wasteland extinguish one by one. The Ophelia Matrix ends its brief rest state and transfers the active terminal named ”Veronica” to spare threads. Meanwhile, in the hall, the metal pillars rapidly adjust their heights and orientation angles, with each matrix node completing self-checks and coming online, starting to take control of the information networks of the laboratories and factory facilities within the base.

As these matrix nodes undergo changes, a metal platform in the center of the hall rises with a slight hissing pressure sound, and the covering device above slides open silently to the sides, revealing the precise container placed at the platform’s top. This is an ellipsoid protective capsule made of crystals, with countless pipes and cables connecting to the metal structure of its base, although more than half of the magic symbols on the base are currently in an extinguished state. Inside the ellipsoid capsule, a slightly petite and slender figure floats quietly in a thin golden liquid.

The figure is a young woman, with long hair of pale gray mixed with metallic sheen cascading like a waterfall behind her. She wears a classical dress from a bygone era, adorned with exquisite decorations that, alongside her extraordinary appearance, signify the special identity of this ”sleeper.” Despite her beauty, the woman floating in the faint golden liquid does not exhibit any signs of life, seeming like a delicate doll floating in a coffin sealed for hundreds of years.

The matrix observes the figure floating in the container and routinely completes today’s surveillance record:

”XX year X month XX day, 266455 days since Ophelia Norton’s brain death, matrix continues operation, inner base situation normal, no higher instructions received, continuing to execute initial system tasks...”

...

In the valley surrounded by a vast wasteland, a thicket formed by interwoven giant plant structures has grown into a solid and dense wooden dome. This dome blocks the turbulent filthy winds of the wasteland and prevents dry sand grains and ash fragments from unknown origins carried by the wind from entering. Inside, the environment of the valley has fully stabilized.

Glowing plants embedded in the dome and surrounding rock walls provide ample lighting for the settlement, while vines extending deep into the rock layers and underground supply clean water to the valley through filtration. The substances needed for plant growth are supplied by the corrupted soil filled with chaotic magic residues. Numerous dormant Treants cling to the rugged rocks and slopes, while dense paths between them showcase abundant yet twisted flora.

If one were to overlook the terrifying twisted thorns on the dome and the secret hidden behind the valley, the environment inside could be described as ”vibrant”—should an outsider visit, they might never guess such a lush place exists at the heart of the Gondor wasteland.

Soft rustling sounds come from the forest as an elf sister duo steps out from the trees. Their pale green priestess robes brush against the low bushes along the path, and light from the dome illuminates their delicate faces. Fyrna pauses, looks up at the fully enclosed dome, then turns to her ”sister” and suddenly laughs, ”Does this scene remind you of lingering impressions in your mind? In southern forests, beautiful elves bathe in sunlight, emerging from the trees, breathing in the slightly damp and earthy morning breeze...”