A single nuclear weapon detonated in a localized area.
The outer gods within that area were instantly annihilated.
Humans didn't initially grasp this, but the Seafolk, possessing more resources than the humans at that time, obtained this information.
In an instant, they realized the truth.
The outer gods could be destroyed by nuclear weapons.
Why hadn't they considered this before?
Why hadn't they tried?
This wasn't their fault; the outer gods had instilled this belief—that they were immune to nuclear weapons.
This belief was ingrained in their subconscious, influencing all intelligent species to reject the idea of using nuclear weapons.
Now, they were suddenly awakened.
Tens of thousands of nuclear weapons were launched, cleansing the world.
The outer gods were decimated, losing over 95% of their forces.
They retreated underground; the world returned to peace after 20 years.
Vjevina, the last human city, was destroyed.
But Kaurney found some surviving humans; just over forty individuals established a new settlement, gradually growing and prospering.
After defeating the outer gods, the Seafolk didn't rule the world; they prioritized restoring the oceans and eliminating the remaining outer gods before expanding onto land.
This gave humanity a chance to recover.
Approximately 310 years later, humanity rebuilt a city, named after Kaurney and his companions: Kerswhite.
Was this the end?
The Filament civilization thought so.
But they were wrong; this was merely the first act of a larger drama. If a story had ten chapters, this was the end of the first, the beginning of the second.
400 years later.
Humanity had become a secondary species. The Seafolk rose to prominence, fortifying the oceans, creating a prosperous civilization rivaling the splendor of a boiling sea.
The Seafolk achieved complete modernization, automation, and technological advancement.
The outer gods were forgotten; even their subterranean existence became legend; any mention of religion was permanently erased from their dictionaries.
They believed this would suppress the outer gods.
But it wouldn't.
Only the land-dwelling humans knew the outer gods still existed, slumbering deep underground.
Only the Filament civilization and the Federation could see what the outer gods were truly doing.
The outer gods lacked intelligence; they were mindless entities. Their previous success stemmed from their gradual conquest and corruption of the world, met with minimal resistance, reinforcing their approach.
However, their previous annihilation and defeat taught them a lesson—although "learned" might be an inaccurate term; it was instinctual, like microorganisms lacking intelligence yet following survival instincts, reproducing and evolving.
The outer gods were the same.
In the Filament civilization's eyes, the outer gods were primitive; after the humans and Seafolk learned how to counter them, they would pose little further threat.
That should have been the case.
But the outer gods' strength wasn't simply military might.
Their initial weakness and subsequent strength in the first chapter weren't coincidental.
Their success lay in the unknown… what?
This was the greatest question.
The ultimate truth of this world.
Year 1827 of the world's existence.
Intelligent species grew stronger; humanity sought to control the land, the Seafolk the oceans.
But the outer gods' influence expanded, gradually encroaching on everything.
Humans and Seafolk offered no resistance to this gradual encroachment; "theology" returned; humans and Seafolk seemed to have forgotten their ancestors' despair.
The outer gods spread through cities, this time using networks and communication.
Fueled by the insidious ideas of corruption, the outer gods grew stronger, again dominating the world and threatening humans and Seafolk.
This time, the threat wasn't external but internal; humans and Seafolk were powerless to resist, rapidly weakening.
The outer gods deployed the subterranean beings to the surface, vying for control with humans and Seafolk. Through control and corruption, they avoided nuclear weapons, using these subjugated beings to control the world.
Humans and Seafolk were once again in grave danger.
This was the second chapter.
Why did this happen?
Intelligent species were clearly superior; the outer gods were relatively weak.
Humans weren't without opportunities; advanced technology could have brainwashed humans to prevent the worship of outer gods.
However, human and Seafolk rights prevented this, leading to this outcome.
The Filament civilization now understood the true nature of this world.
It wasn't a conflict between species or purely a military struggle.
This world represented the conflict between order and chaos.
Intelligent species represented order, outer gods chaos. This reveals that intelligent species represent all advanced civilizations.
Advanced civilizations thrive in order; chaos only brings destruction.
This chaos wasn't war; inter-civilization war was a conflict between orders; each soldier, each warship, operates under strict order.
The outer gods' chaos was pure chaos; they lacked even the intelligence of a newborn, yet they twice defeated the stronger humans and Seafolk.
Pure chaos easily overwhelms order.
Why?
This was the second question.
The Filament civilization considered the nature of life. Is the nature of life order?
No. Under strict order, life constantly seeks rebellion; the nature of life is to resist order.
As technology advances, life chooses convenience—laziness.
The more advanced a civilization, the lazier its inhabitants become.
In the Federation, most tasks are performed by robots. Ordinary citizens don't work hard; of course, those seeking advancement work tirelessly.
But if you choose leisure, you could work for a month and live comfortably for decades.
The low cost of living in the Federation created a large population of idle citizens. Some of these citizens attracted the Boundary God's attention, prompting her to introduce obstacles.
Therefore, the weakness of life is what?
What is the weakness of the highly ordered Federation?
The Filament civilization seemed to have understood something.
...
The second chapter didn't end with humans and Seafolk using nuclear weapons to defeat the outer gods.
It ended with the creation of a new faith, new fictional deities, awakening the corrupted followers of the outer gods.
The second chapter's conclusion was a war of gods, a conflict of faiths.
The Federation remained uninvolved, but through analysis of the outer gods, Luna understood the world's state.
"Ayla, what do you think will happen to them?"
Luna asked Ayla for her prediction; this was crucial to the Genesis Project.
"From a purely rational, ordered perspective, I would advise against engaging with the unknown. The Cthulhu mythos showed us that the unknown is terrifying."
"But the Filament civilization isn't purely ordered; civilizations like ours can't achieve absolute order; even within order, individual chaos seeks dominance."
"Therefore, the Filament civilization will seek answers."
This was Luna's conclusion.
The Cthulhu mythos wasn't confined to a single planet; it encompassed the entire universe.
The Great Old Ones and other outer gods were embodiments of universal principles; perhaps Cthulhu itself was a Type 4 civilization.
Everything on that planet was merely a projection of these outer gods.
Cthulhu, therefore, possessed characteristics of advanced civilizations.
Luna chose Cthulhu as the core of the Genesis Project for this reason.
"What is the universe?"
"Is it governed by order, or by chaos?"
"Besides civilizations, other beings seem chaotic and disordered. We even know that 'God plays dice,' suggesting that the universe isn't inherently ordered."
"Everything might lack inherent rules; the rules we observe are merely due to our limited perspective, our ignorance."
"We take 1% of reality as the entire universe; to more advanced civilizations, we may appear laughable and pathetic."
This was the contemplation inspired by the Cthulhu mythos.
Cthulhu itself isn't theology, but philosophy.
Would a civilization that had followed order for tens of thousands of years ignore the higher-level chaos?
Impossible!
The Boundary God sensed a response from that world.
If group 123 is equivalent to group abc, a change on one side induces a change on the other; similarly, a change on the other side will affect this side. The Boundary God could use these changes to observe the Filament civilization's actions.
Their fate: entry into the Genesis sandbox, or game board.
Unsurprisingly, the Filament civilization sided with order; not to help order, but to witness the outer gods' power.
With the Filament civilization's aid, humanity and the Seafolk recovered and surpassed their previous peak within 200 years.
The outer gods gained a new ability.
They learned about projection.
The humans and Seafolk were now wary, preventing the outer gods from manipulating their minds. The outer gods needed to regain their previous strength.
The third chapter began 341 years after the second.
Both the outer gods and the humans and Seafolk had reached their peak. The Filament civilization couldn't understand this, but they observed that order continuously fueled chaos, strengthening the outer gods.
Stronger order meant stronger chaos; they were intertwined.
The Filament civilization attempted intervention but failed; they couldn't fully control human and Seafolk thoughts; otherwise, it would be meaningless.
When the outer gods manifested on the surface, they again instilled fear.
They were immortal; those were merely avatars.
The seeds of fear were sown; the outer gods again infiltrated human and Seafolk society, disrupting order.
Previously, facing such chaos, both species would have collapsed.
But this time, it was different. The Filament civilization intervened, revealing the outer gods' weaknesses—their vulnerability, their defeatability.
Humans and Seafolk didn't lose hope; they relentlessly attacked the outer gods, suppressing them. The gene pools of the first chapter reappeared, becoming powerful weapons.
With the Filament civilization's help, these gene pools were elevated to god-like status, becoming unshakeable pillars for humanity and the Seafolk.
The war of gods in the second chapter was merely a prelude to the true arrival of "gods."
The Filament civilization fiercely upheld order for both species; under this order, the outer gods were suppressed, unable to manifest on the surface.
The Filament civilization was likely dissatisfied.
They hadn't chosen the humans and Seafolk because they believed order could defeat chaos; they represented order and needed no proof. They wanted to witness chaos's potential.
If chaos was merely this, their involvement would be meaningless.
But the outer gods wouldn't disappoint them.
Even with powerful gene pools, these weren't true gods. The possessors of these gene pools experienced moments of existential doubt, questioning their purpose and existence…
These thoughts introduced chaos.
The outer gods could exploit this.
"Precisely, even the strongest lifeforms are still lifeforms. Life cannot achieve absolute order unless it's a machine."
The Filament civilization reached this conclusion.
Civilizations led by lifeforms could possess powerful weapons, but lifeforms couldn't maintain absolute order.
Even the strongest lifeforms experience moments of weakness, and this weakness is chaos.
"What if we were chaos?"
The Filament civilization would inevitably consider this.
Their hesitation stemmed from a lack of understanding of the universe's ultimate nature—a chaos or void in the Cthulhu mythos, or "natural Dao" in other mythologies.
What is the nature of life?
The Filament civilization again posed this question.
Does civilization truly require order?
The Filament civilization pondered this new question.
Answering these questions, they believed, would lead to a new evolutionary leap.
In the third chapter, despite the Filament civilization's full support, humans and Seafolk were ultimately defeated. As civilizations advanced, so did chaos; the outer gods became powerful enough to exploit even 0.1 seconds of mental vulnerability.
How could this be prevented?
Only by instantly annihilating the outer gods with a star-destroying weapon.
But this didn't provide the Filament civilization with answers. In the fourth chapter, they would side with the outer gods.
To understand chaos, one must embrace it.
The Filament civilization's lifeforms were inherently ordered; like three-dimensional beings unable to comprehend the existence of higher or lower dimensions, they couldn't understand chaos.
Or perhaps their understanding of chaos was based on their ordered perception of it, not true chaos.
To truly understand chaos, the Filament civilization had to immerse themselves in it.
This would be a novel experience.
Because order despises chaos.
In society, those who follow and utilize order usually succeed.
Of course, some are constrained by order and remain at the bottom of society; others reject order and leave society entirely.
These are still within the framework of order; true chaos is different. Chaos is madness, selfishness—drug addicts, criminals, the depraved… They are consumed by chaos, some driven mad, truly insane.
Contempt is often accompanied by fear.
The Filament civilization contacted the outer gods.
The Boundary God sensed this; Luna knew.
"Is chaos ultimately progress or regression?"
"The Federation can't answer this; neither can the Filament civilization. They chose to experiment."
"Our task is simple: deception."
"Or perhaps we don't need deception, because we can't control chaos."
Luna herself didn't know what to do.
Because she didn't understand chaos.
Any interference or deception would taint the purity of chaos.
Impure chaos is imperfect; the Filament civilization wouldn't change for something imperfect.
Luna was also searching for chaos, seeking to understand what the Federation could gain.
Was the universe's nature order or chaos?
Should civilizations maintain order or embrace chaos?
These were the questions Luna posed; she had no answers.
The Filament civilization's choice would influence her judgment.
...
The fourth chapter began 70 years later—a consequence of the Filament civilization's actions.
Normally, the Filament civilization couldn't influence the outer gods, just as Luna couldn't; the outer gods were chaos; any interaction would transform chaos into order.
The Filament civilization chose a simpler approach: becoming outer gods.
They merged with the outer gods.
Instantly, chaotic thoughts flooded the minds of those who merged. The Filament civilization attempted to interpret this chaos, becoming increasingly shocked.
This chaos was terrifying.
It was a completely different set of survival rules.
It was indescribable, inexpressible, only felt; like the Great Old Ones in the Cthulhu mythos, these outer gods weren't necessarily more advanced, but more primal.
The Filament civilization had initially considered the outer gods to be like microorganisms. Now, their perspective shifted.
Even microorganisms possess their order, following their own survival rules.
The outer gods simply followed the universe's natural chaos; they were a manifestation of the universe itself. Their conflict with humans and Seafolk wasn't driven by survival needs or desires; they didn't require entertainment.
Their conflict stemmed from order attracting chaos, like a magnet; they were drawn to it and sought to destroy order.
Is the universe the same?
Does the universe erase order, or is the inherent chaos of life the universe's leveling force?
Countless questions arose.
The Filament civilization desperately sought answers; they delved deeper into the outer gods' realm.
There was no emotion, no desire, only pure nothingness; within this nothingness lay the universe's rules. These rules didn't originate from the outer gods themselves but from something they encountered upon creation.
They were like a cup; they received water, drinks, ice cream, fruit, even rice. Anything could be placed within.
The Filament civilization felt they had discovered something.
The outer gods weren't entities but vessels, acting according to universal rules, not pure chaos. These rules eroded civilizations.
Civilizations were powerless against this force.
If they could create outer gods to target the Federation… what would happen?
The Federation would likely crumble under this erosion; life within the Federation would be annihilated.
They considered the Federation's robots, but the current Federation is a lifeform-based civilization; destroying life would cause its rapid decline.
The outer gods could even influence the Federation's bio-engineered warships and insect drones; creating outer gods would be wholly beneficial.
But this wasn't enough.
What if they became outer gods?
They could contain anything, including order.
This was their true goal.
This would bring unprecedented progress, potentially allowing them to rapidly advance from Type 2.3 to 2.4 or 2.5—not impossible.
The universe experiences periods of rapid expansion; civilizations do too. These bursts propel rapid advancement, common in early civilizations.
A feudal civilization could, through the work of a few individuals, transition to an industrial age in a mere hundred years, achieving what had taken a thousand years previously.
Technological leaps are rare in advanced civilizations, but not impossible.
Should they try?
This was the Filament civilization's dilemma.
Normally, the Filament civilization wouldn't consider this; they'd followed the path of order for too long.
It's like scoring 100 on a literature exam after years of studying; why would you suddenly pursue accounting or economics? Even if it's more lucrative, switching paths is difficult.
Everything involves a cost.
Spending twenty years learning something, then starting over in a new field, makes surpassing others nearly impossible.
The same applies to civilizations.
The Filament civilization's consideration was driven by their precarious position—a three-way conflict. Without a breakthrough, they risked annihilation.
What should they do?
The fourth chapter hadn't even truly begun, and this question already haunted the Filament civilization.
...
"To become a vessel, this is a momentous decision."
"Every civilization, every being, originates from a vessel. We live in the universe, nurtured by it. Yet, a question arises: should we become a vessel?"
Luna swirled the glass in her hand.
This ordinary glass held profound weight.
The Genesis Project's challenge to the Filament civilization was also a challenge to the Federation.
The Federation was indeed advancing, but had stagnated. Luna didn't know how long the Federation would remain at Type 2.3.
Ten thousand years? A hundred thousand?
No civilization could endlessly advance; the Olive Branch civilization remained at Type 2.4 for a long time until Luna's intervention.
They might have reached Type 2.5 or 2.6, only to stagnate, awaiting another opportunity.
Civilizations can experience breakthroughs or stagnation.
Like the probability of a revolutionary figure emerging, civilizations might stagnate for centuries without a breakthrough.
The nature of chaos isn't truly chaos.
"Chaos" is the opposite of "order," but the outer gods' chaos doesn't conform to this definition.
The Filament civilization sensed this: the outer gods were merely vessels, containing everything, including order itself; this "chaos" represented a lack of inherent structure.
The outer gods reacted to what they contained.
Like a piece of paper: still until acted upon—held by a being, burned by fire, blown by wind. Only then does it move and change.
Like the Great Old Ones, they were inherently chaotic and structureless; only when observed did they react. Did they aim to destroy humanity? Not necessarily.
Human fear stemmed from their power.
Human deaths resulted from their weakness, their inability to comprehend superior beings and knowledge.
When the universe's knowledge overwhelmed a human, they died.
Even if they survived, they'd be overwhelmed, their values shattered, becoming empty vessels, mouthpieces for the outer gods.
This wasn't a conspiracy, an invasion, or destruction.
In the Cthulhu mythos, the outer gods ignored humanity, as humans ignore microorganisms; to them, humans are insignificant.
The outer gods' power stemmed from their absorption of the universe, becoming part of its rules.
The Filament civilization was considering this; Luna was too.
To grow stronger, one must expand; a vessel must contain powerful entities; this is a shortcut.
"The Filament civilization might become our vanguard."
"The Genesis Project is currently at the start of the fourth chapter, but it will soon end, ushering in the fifth."
The fifth chapter wouldn't be about humans, Seafolk, and outer gods, but the Filament civilization.
"Beep beep beep!"
Luna glanced at the incoming information.
The Filament civilization had acted; they attempted to invade the humans and Seafolk, who offered no resistance, as before. This time, however, the outcome would be different; with the Filament civilization involved, humans and Seafolk would be completely annihilated.
140 years later.
The year is 45407 AD. Luna received news of the Genesis world's destruction.
Now, she only needed to wait for the Filament civilization's transformation.
"The true plan begins; no more energy consumption; let the Boundary God rest."
This marked the end of the first half.
"Deploy bio-engineered warships and the Swarm to harass the Filament civilization."
"I believe the Filament civilization will want to test its newfound power on the battlefield."
Ayla's voice, quiet and measured, echoed.
"Shouldn't we wait?"
"The Filament civilization knows the sandbox is our creation; they know we know about the outer gods; they can calculate the outer gods' influence."
"If the Filament civilization tests its theories on the battlefield, they'll launch another large-scale attack."
This was a warning.
Had Luna considered this?
Of course.
"We gave the Filament civilization a weapon; we know it exists, but not its specifics."
"Like 21st-century humanity knew how to create nuclear weapons but not how to defend against them."
"This isn't just for the Filament civilization to test its theories; it's for us to test ours."
"The Genesis Project's core isn't one-sided; it's dualistic. For the Filament civilization, it offers both advantages and disadvantages; for us, the same is true."
"This is why the Filament civilization engaged; a weapon wouldn't provide a sense of security; only a neutral element could."
Luna had created neutrality many times.
Why create neutrality?
Because the power disparity was significant.
Creating neutrality against a weaker opponent strengthens them; creating neutrality against a stronger opponent strengthens you; it finds a balance.
Therefore, the Genesis Project's core was to provide the Filament civilization with a 1.0 advantage, while providing the Federation with a 1.1 or even 1.2 advantage.
The power disparity between the two civilizations wasn't significant; the Genesis Project would bring the Filament civilization to the Federation's level.
But that wasn't all.
The Genesis Project's core had far-reaching consequences for both civilizations.
Luna didn't know the extent of these consequences; the possibilities were too numerous.
Six years later.
A fleet of 50,000 bio-engineered warships and 10 super-Swarm nests advanced towards the Filament civilization. This exploratory war could significantly alter the future conflict.
The Filament civilization's slowdown was a feint; the Genesis Project's impact was real.
The war between the Filament civilization and the Federation took a decisive turn.
...
Approximately 350 years later, Luna's bio-engineered warships encountered the Filament civilization.
The engagement was brief, lasting about two years.
There were minimal casualties; Luna lost about 7000 bio-engineered warships; the super-Swarm nests were virtually unscathed.
This wasn't due to Filament civilization's mercy.
As Luna predicted, the Filament civilization needed to test chaos.
They needed to prepare.
Ten years later, the Filament civilization launched an attack; this attack was surprisingly small—a suicide mission.
Only one warship was dispatched.
Even if the bio-engineered warships were weaker, they should have easily defeated a single Filament warship.
Yet, the Filament civilization sent only one.
The bio-engineered warships swarmed it; billions of Swarm drones enveloped the warship.
But then, something emerged from the warship—a being, or not a being. It lacked a discernible form; its appearance differed depending on the observer; it was like Hamlet, a thousand faces.
It contained everything: physics, chemistry, history, past, present, future—all compressed; it was a lens, revealing what was previously unseen.
The bio-engineered warships possessed a rudimentary consciousness, akin to plants.
Like plants, they were susceptible to influence; the "lens" affected them.
After observing it, the bio-engineered warships began to grow uncontrollably, developing fleshy growths like cancerous tumors.
Similarly, the Swarm drones, upon observing this being, froze mid-air before disintegrating.
This wasn't magic.
It contained vast amounts of information; observing it revealed fundamental truths.
These truths could be the universe's primal truths, or truths created by the Filament civilization itself—truths life instinctively avoids, truths cells inherently resist.
It affected everything, macroscopic and microscopic.
A cell, from its initial division, follows a specific order. If it suddenly perceives this order as meaningless, what happens?
It stops.
Life thus becomes chaotic.
This feeling is like striving for survival, only to realize that in a few decades, you will still die, returning to dust; everything you care about will vanish. Why bother striving?
Is this wrong?
Perhaps valuing life is a form of avoidance; living within a falsehood?
Humans experience these doubts; if these doubts become certainties, interest in life vanishes, leading to death.
Research shows a correlation between mood and immune system strength; a negative mood weakens immunity.
This isn't a direct causal relationship, but there's a clear correlation.
Similarly, extreme sadness can cause sudden death.
The Filament civilization exploited this.
This power was illogical and unstoppable.
Upon the being's appearance, tens of thousands of bio-engineered warships, billions of Swarm drones, and even the super-Swarm nests were destroyed, perishing swiftly.
"Life can't withstand the pain of truth."
"Imagine you love someone deeply; she is perfect, understands and accepts everything about you; you share complete harmony. She's the woman of your dreams."
"Then, she dies."
"Even the strongest will crumble, the toughest will break; this heart-wrenching pain can pierce all defenses."
"This is the unbearable pain of reality; truth is a hundred, a thousand, even ten thousand times more agonizing."
Luna, upon hearing of the bio-engineered warships' complete annihilation, spoke slowly.
"Undeniably, I couldn't withstand such pain."
"I too would die upon seeing that being."
"This is an illogical annihilation of life."
"Ayla, you should handle this; no biological units will participate in future engagements against the Filament civilization."
"Of course, this requires us to eliminate the Filament civilization."
Luna knew this precondition was impossible.
It ceased to exist the moment the Filament civilization attempted to contact the outer gods.
At the Genesis Project's inception, Luna hadn't anticipated the outer gods' effect on the Filament civilization. But as time passed, her understanding grew, and her fear of this chaos intensified.
This fear was uncontainable, like an entomophobia or ophidiophobia; no matter how much you try to suppress it, the sight of these creatures causes uncontrollable trembling.
Fear stems from the unknown.
Understanding eliminates fear. But the outer gods are incomprehensible, unless you become one.
This fear of chaos is akin to the fear of death.
"How likely is the Filament civilization to remain sane under the influence of the outer gods?"
"True chaos is akin to madness; how can a civilization of madmen maintain stability?"
Thinking of Cthulhu, Luna immediately understood.
Changing the Filament civilization into a desired lifeform isn't enough. If they can change, why not transform them into self-destructive beings?
This isn't uncommon in nature.
Evolution often correlates with self-destruction.
A species might evolve not to be superior against natural predators, but against immediate competitors.
For example, some creatures evolve decorative features to attract mates; these features might become liabilities against predators.
Luna could do the same to the Filament civilization.
The Filament civilization faced a difficult situation: the Federation, the Olive Branch civilization, and a hypothetical fourth civilization. Needing a solution, they might sacrifice other things.
For example, outer gods are powerful, but not evolutionarily advantageous.
If the Filament civilization realized this, the Federation and the Filament civilization would return to their pre-Genesis Project state. Otherwise, Luna would declare victory.