Chapter 6: The Pain of a Shattered Consciousness
The afternoon sunlight was sliced into mottled fragments by the shading net framework, falling onto the long street leading back to the city. Lin Yan walked slowly along the main road toward the shelter, the scenes along the way replaying over and over in his mind. The dense scars on the hundred-meter-high giant wall, the countless names on the Wall of Martyrs, and the pale-faced soldiers tormented by mental trauma at the entrance of the adjustment center.
The danger in this world had never been limited to the sharp claws and fangs of the scaled beasts outside the wall. The invisible, intangible psychic shocks to the Sea of Consciousness were the cruelest blades of all. Flesh wounds would scab over and heal, but once the consciousness was damaged, the resulting pain would accompany a person for the rest of their life.
After walking all the way back to the temporary shelter, a stifling, oppressive atmosphere hit him the moment he stepped into the first-floor lobby.
It was supposed to be a brief midday rest period, yet the lobby was still crowded. Most of them were newcomers preparing for the assessment, gathered in small groups talking in low voices. Some were repeatedly reading the assessment guidelines, while others sat with their eyes closed, regulating their breathing in an attempt to polish and stabilize their own Sea of Consciousness. A layer of inescapable anxiety hung over everyone's faces; no one could face the life-and-death trial in three days with ease.
Lin Yan did not go straight upstairs to his compartment. He planned to rest for a moment on a bench in the corner of the lobby. Just as he reached the bench, he heard a suppressed cough coming from the nearby rest area.
The source was a middle-aged man, perhaps in his forties, gaunt and with a slightly hunched back. Wearing a grey work jacket washed so pale it was almost white, he supported himself against the wall as he struggled to sit down. One hand pressed hard against his temple, his brow knotted in a tight frown, his forehead covered in fine, cold sweat. His entire body trembled slightly, completely out of his control.
Beside him was a young boy, who also looked like a newcomer preparing for the assessment. He was carefully supporting the man, his tone full of worry. "Uncle Chen, are you feeling unwell again? Should I go to the medical window and apply for some calming medicine for you?"
The middle-aged man slowly shook his head, breathing with great effort. His voice was hoarse and dry, like sandpaper rubbing against wood. "It's useless... Calming medicine can only temporarily soothe the emotions; it can't cure the injuries inside the Sea of Consciousness."
Lin Yan paused, standing quietly nearby without stepping forward to disturb them, listening silently to their conversation.
"Back then, I was just like you, signing up for the newcomer assessment full of hope." Uncle Chen spoke slowly, his gaze empty as he looked out the lobby window, as if looking through the thick walls to see the assessment from so many years ago that had changed his life. "I was twenty-two then. I thought my Sea of Consciousness talent was quite good, and my physical fitness was passable. Everyone around me advised caution, but I thought, if others can pass, I certainly can too."
He raised his hand, his fingertips gently pressing his brow, a flash of unbearable agony crossing his face. "The physical fitness test went smoothly. I successfully avoided the few small scaled beasts in the ruins. But during the Sea of Consciousness assessment, the intensity of the psychic disturbance released by the machine suddenly spiked. Unwilling to be eliminated just like that, I forcibly pushed my Sea of Consciousness to endure it."
At this point, the middle-aged man let out a bitterly sour, low laugh, the sound filled with endless regret. "In just over ten seconds. I felt a boom in my head, as if countless steel needles were fiercely stabbing into the depths of my consciousness. Instantly, everything spun, and all my senses fell into chaos. When I woke up again, the military doctor told me that my Sea of Consciousness had suffered permanent tearing damage."
The young boy held his breath and asked softly, "Then... what are the consequences?"
"Consequences?" Uncle Chen turned his head, his eyes completely grey and lifeless. "I can't concentrate for long. Once there is even slight psychic turbulence in the environment, my head will suffer continuous, agonizing pain. I can't get emotional or think too much. Slight fatigue will cause my Sea of Consciousness to fluctuate, and in severe cases, I faint directly. High-intensity Sea of Consciousness cultivation? Forget it for the rest of my life. The frontline garrison, the training camp, they are all forever out of reach."
"The Military Affairs Bureau assigned me a job sorting in the logistics warehouse. It barely allows me to exchange for the lowest standard of ration quotas. I managed to keep my life, but I am no longer a whole person."
He slowly raised his gaunt palm, staring at his fingertips that trembled slightly, beyond his control. "Many newcomers only see the glory after passing the assessment—entering the training camp, learning Sea of Consciousness cultivation and combat techniques, gaining the power to protect themselves and their families. Very few are willing to calm down and truly look at us, the failures. We didn't lose our lives, but our spirits are forever crippled."
"Every year, after the newcomer assessment ends, there is a batch of people like me. Some recover slightly after resting for a few years, while others live with continuous, unending mental pain for the rest of their lives. The unluckier ones have their Sea of Consciousness shattered on the spot, their consciousness dissipating, turning into a soulless shell."
The boy fell silent. The anticipation in his eyes regarding the assessment quietly faded, replaced by a heavy sense of dread. He lowered his head, clenching his fists, suddenly unsure if insisting on taking the assessment was truly the right choice.
"I'm not advising you to give up." Seeing the boy's inner wavering, Uncle Chen softened his tone. "Beyond the bastion, the threat of scaled beasts is always there. Staying in a logistics position offers only temporary peace. Once the city wall's defense line falls, ordinary people without the ability to protect themselves will be the first to be devoured. Just make sure you know your own limits. Don't be like me back then, swept up by ambition and forcing yourself to endure. Once the Sea of Consciousness shatters, there is no chance to start over."
After finishing these words, the middle-aged man leaned against the wall and slowly closed his eyes, continuing to endure the persistent, dull ache from his Sea of Consciousness. The boy said nothing more, quietly guarding beside him, no longer continuing the discussion about the assessment.
Lin Yan stood in place, his mind churning with thoughts.
The night before, he had heard the newcomers in the adjacent compartment talking about the dangers of the assessment, but those were ultimately just rumors, separated by a blurred distance. Now, this middle-aged man stood right before his eyes, laying out the cruel price of failure in a bloody, bare manner. This was not a hearsay story; it was a tragedy happening within this bastion, playing out day after day.
Lin Yan thought back to himself. He possessed the combat experience retained from the previous Jianghu plane. Having experienced countless life-and-death battles, his mental fortitude was far more resilient and stable than the vast majority of ordinary people in this world. In terms of mental stability, he naturally held a massive advantage. But he knew very well that this did not mean he could ignore the risks of the Sea of Consciousness assessment. The psychic disturbances in this plane and the sword-and-blade battles in the Jianghu were two completely different systems. No matter how stable his mind was, once it exceeded its carrying limit, his Sea of Consciousness would also suffer devastating blows.
The two paths still lay before him.
Choosing the logistics position meant safety and low risk. Repeating tedious work every day in exchange for rations and a place to stay. He wouldn't have to face the risk of a torn Sea of Consciousness or step into the hazard-filled abandoned defense zone. But the price was having no opportunity to ever master the power to fight scaled beasts. The peace under the protection of the high walls was fragile. When the day came that the defense line shattered, he could only passively await the judgment of fate.
Choosing to sign up for the newcomer assessment meant taking a gamble. Success would lead him into the training camp, where he could learn to utilize his Sea of Consciousness and the combat methods of this world, gaining the capital to stand and protect himself on this broken land. Failure could leave him like the middle-aged man before him, suffering permanent mental trauma, or worse, his consciousness collapsing, sinking completely into this plane, never to return to his original reality, unable to complete the wish he needed to achieve for this journey.
This was the choice he had to face after entering the dream. His purpose in coming to this plane was to fulfill someone's wish, thereby awakening and returning. If his Sea of Consciousness were to collapse here and he became permanently stranded, everything would be out of the question.
Lin Yan did not step forward to disturb the resting middle-aged man. Turning around gently, he walked slowly toward the stairs and returned to his compartment on the second floor.
Pushing open the door, the small room was quiet and empty. He sat on the iron-frame bed, took out the temporary identity card from his pocket, and repeatedly rubbed the cold, hard texture of the card's surface with his fingertips.
There were two days left until the registration deadline for the newcomer assessment.
He had seen with his own eyes the bloody daily reality of the frontline at the city wall, witnessed the endless suffering endured by those with Sea of Consciousness damage, and heard the inner struggles and hopes of countless newcomers. Everyone within this bastion was struggling to survive in their own gamble.
He no longer needed to continue wandering around to gather information. All the risks, all the opportunities, he had seen clearly enough.
Lin Yan raised his eyes to look at the ventilation vent. Through the narrow opening, he could see the silhouette of the towering city wall in the distance. Outside the wall, the scaled beasts that crawled from the deep sea lurked in the rifts of the wilderness, quietly watching over humanity's last home within the walls.
He took a deep breath, and finally made up his mind.
Tomorrow, he would go to the auxiliary building of the Military Affairs Bureau to sign up for the newcomer talent assessment.
He would take a gamble.
End of Chapter
The danger in this world had never been limited to the sharp claws and fangs of the scaled beasts outside the wall. The invisible, intangible psychic shocks to the Sea of Consciousness were the cruelest blades of all. Flesh wounds would scab over and heal, but once the consciousness was damaged, the resulting pain would accompany a person for the rest of their life.
After walking all the way back to the temporary shelter, a stifling, oppressive atmosphere hit him the moment he stepped into the first-floor lobby.
It was supposed to be a brief midday rest period, yet the lobby was still crowded. Most of them were newcomers preparing for the assessment, gathered in small groups talking in low voices. Some were repeatedly reading the assessment guidelines, while others sat with their eyes closed, regulating their breathing in an attempt to polish and stabilize their own Sea of Consciousness. A layer of inescapable anxiety hung over everyone's faces; no one could face the life-and-death trial in three days with ease.
Lin Yan did not go straight upstairs to his compartment. He planned to rest for a moment on a bench in the corner of the lobby. Just as he reached the bench, he heard a suppressed cough coming from the nearby rest area.
The source was a middle-aged man, perhaps in his forties, gaunt and with a slightly hunched back. Wearing a grey work jacket washed so pale it was almost white, he supported himself against the wall as he struggled to sit down. One hand pressed hard against his temple, his brow knotted in a tight frown, his forehead covered in fine, cold sweat. His entire body trembled slightly, completely out of his control.
Beside him was a young boy, who also looked like a newcomer preparing for the assessment. He was carefully supporting the man, his tone full of worry. "Uncle Chen, are you feeling unwell again? Should I go to the medical window and apply for some calming medicine for you?"
The middle-aged man slowly shook his head, breathing with great effort. His voice was hoarse and dry, like sandpaper rubbing against wood. "It's useless... Calming medicine can only temporarily soothe the emotions; it can't cure the injuries inside the Sea of Consciousness."
Lin Yan paused, standing quietly nearby without stepping forward to disturb them, listening silently to their conversation.
"Back then, I was just like you, signing up for the newcomer assessment full of hope." Uncle Chen spoke slowly, his gaze empty as he looked out the lobby window, as if looking through the thick walls to see the assessment from so many years ago that had changed his life. "I was twenty-two then. I thought my Sea of Consciousness talent was quite good, and my physical fitness was passable. Everyone around me advised caution, but I thought, if others can pass, I certainly can too."
He raised his hand, his fingertips gently pressing his brow, a flash of unbearable agony crossing his face. "The physical fitness test went smoothly. I successfully avoided the few small scaled beasts in the ruins. But during the Sea of Consciousness assessment, the intensity of the psychic disturbance released by the machine suddenly spiked. Unwilling to be eliminated just like that, I forcibly pushed my Sea of Consciousness to endure it."
At this point, the middle-aged man let out a bitterly sour, low laugh, the sound filled with endless regret. "In just over ten seconds. I felt a boom in my head, as if countless steel needles were fiercely stabbing into the depths of my consciousness. Instantly, everything spun, and all my senses fell into chaos. When I woke up again, the military doctor told me that my Sea of Consciousness had suffered permanent tearing damage."
The young boy held his breath and asked softly, "Then... what are the consequences?"
"Consequences?" Uncle Chen turned his head, his eyes completely grey and lifeless. "I can't concentrate for long. Once there is even slight psychic turbulence in the environment, my head will suffer continuous, agonizing pain. I can't get emotional or think too much. Slight fatigue will cause my Sea of Consciousness to fluctuate, and in severe cases, I faint directly. High-intensity Sea of Consciousness cultivation? Forget it for the rest of my life. The frontline garrison, the training camp, they are all forever out of reach."
"The Military Affairs Bureau assigned me a job sorting in the logistics warehouse. It barely allows me to exchange for the lowest standard of ration quotas. I managed to keep my life, but I am no longer a whole person."
He slowly raised his gaunt palm, staring at his fingertips that trembled slightly, beyond his control. "Many newcomers only see the glory after passing the assessment—entering the training camp, learning Sea of Consciousness cultivation and combat techniques, gaining the power to protect themselves and their families. Very few are willing to calm down and truly look at us, the failures. We didn't lose our lives, but our spirits are forever crippled."
"Every year, after the newcomer assessment ends, there is a batch of people like me. Some recover slightly after resting for a few years, while others live with continuous, unending mental pain for the rest of their lives. The unluckier ones have their Sea of Consciousness shattered on the spot, their consciousness dissipating, turning into a soulless shell."
The boy fell silent. The anticipation in his eyes regarding the assessment quietly faded, replaced by a heavy sense of dread. He lowered his head, clenching his fists, suddenly unsure if insisting on taking the assessment was truly the right choice.
"I'm not advising you to give up." Seeing the boy's inner wavering, Uncle Chen softened his tone. "Beyond the bastion, the threat of scaled beasts is always there. Staying in a logistics position offers only temporary peace. Once the city wall's defense line falls, ordinary people without the ability to protect themselves will be the first to be devoured. Just make sure you know your own limits. Don't be like me back then, swept up by ambition and forcing yourself to endure. Once the Sea of Consciousness shatters, there is no chance to start over."
After finishing these words, the middle-aged man leaned against the wall and slowly closed his eyes, continuing to endure the persistent, dull ache from his Sea of Consciousness. The boy said nothing more, quietly guarding beside him, no longer continuing the discussion about the assessment.
Lin Yan stood in place, his mind churning with thoughts.
The night before, he had heard the newcomers in the adjacent compartment talking about the dangers of the assessment, but those were ultimately just rumors, separated by a blurred distance. Now, this middle-aged man stood right before his eyes, laying out the cruel price of failure in a bloody, bare manner. This was not a hearsay story; it was a tragedy happening within this bastion, playing out day after day.
Lin Yan thought back to himself. He possessed the combat experience retained from the previous Jianghu plane. Having experienced countless life-and-death battles, his mental fortitude was far more resilient and stable than the vast majority of ordinary people in this world. In terms of mental stability, he naturally held a massive advantage. But he knew very well that this did not mean he could ignore the risks of the Sea of Consciousness assessment. The psychic disturbances in this plane and the sword-and-blade battles in the Jianghu were two completely different systems. No matter how stable his mind was, once it exceeded its carrying limit, his Sea of Consciousness would also suffer devastating blows.
The two paths still lay before him.
Choosing the logistics position meant safety and low risk. Repeating tedious work every day in exchange for rations and a place to stay. He wouldn't have to face the risk of a torn Sea of Consciousness or step into the hazard-filled abandoned defense zone. But the price was having no opportunity to ever master the power to fight scaled beasts. The peace under the protection of the high walls was fragile. When the day came that the defense line shattered, he could only passively await the judgment of fate.
Choosing to sign up for the newcomer assessment meant taking a gamble. Success would lead him into the training camp, where he could learn to utilize his Sea of Consciousness and the combat methods of this world, gaining the capital to stand and protect himself on this broken land. Failure could leave him like the middle-aged man before him, suffering permanent mental trauma, or worse, his consciousness collapsing, sinking completely into this plane, never to return to his original reality, unable to complete the wish he needed to achieve for this journey.
This was the choice he had to face after entering the dream. His purpose in coming to this plane was to fulfill someone's wish, thereby awakening and returning. If his Sea of Consciousness were to collapse here and he became permanently stranded, everything would be out of the question.
Lin Yan did not step forward to disturb the resting middle-aged man. Turning around gently, he walked slowly toward the stairs and returned to his compartment on the second floor.
Pushing open the door, the small room was quiet and empty. He sat on the iron-frame bed, took out the temporary identity card from his pocket, and repeatedly rubbed the cold, hard texture of the card's surface with his fingertips.
There were two days left until the registration deadline for the newcomer assessment.
He had seen with his own eyes the bloody daily reality of the frontline at the city wall, witnessed the endless suffering endured by those with Sea of Consciousness damage, and heard the inner struggles and hopes of countless newcomers. Everyone within this bastion was struggling to survive in their own gamble.
He no longer needed to continue wandering around to gather information. All the risks, all the opportunities, he had seen clearly enough.
Lin Yan raised his eyes to look at the ventilation vent. Through the narrow opening, he could see the silhouette of the towering city wall in the distance. Outside the wall, the scaled beasts that crawled from the deep sea lurked in the rifts of the wilderness, quietly watching over humanity's last home within the walls.
He took a deep breath, and finally made up his mind.
Tomorrow, he would go to the auxiliary building of the Military Affairs Bureau to sign up for the newcomer talent assessment.
He would take a gamble.
End of Chapter