Chapter 738: Knocking Sound
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation
Suddenly, an unexpected, ghostly roar shattered the silence, plunging the computer screen that Zhou Ming was intently staring at into an abyss of complete darkness. Almost immediately, Zhou Ming sensed a peculiar change in his surroundings; it was as if the world around him was receding into silence. The familiar hum of his computer’s fan began to fade away, the distant, persistent buzzing of the refrigerator gradually diminished, and the entire room was enveloped in a strange, unsettling quiet. The atmosphere felt as though it was transforming into something otherworldly.
This bizarre occurrence unfolded right after Zhou Ming had entered the phrase “Inverse Singularity” into his computer’s search bar.
He blinked in confusion, then, with a sense of unease, he pushed his chair back and stood up. The chair moved back without a sound, his feet made no noise against the floor, and even a pen that he accidentally knocked off the desk landed silently on the ground.
For a few heartbeats, Zhou Ming feared he had suddenly gone deaf.
But then, he realized it wasn’t his hearing that was malfunctioning. It was the very environment around him that was altering; the room was growing increasingly dark.
The lights flickered out, leaving every object in the room to be slowly swallowed by a chaotic, shadowy haze. Everything began losing its color in the encroaching darkness. The patterned curtains were the first to lose their vibrancy, fading into a dull gray and white. This color-draining effect spread to his desk, chair, and even his bed. One by one, the objects in his room turned monochrome before being gradually consumed by the deepening shadows…
It felt as though each element in a complex system was being systematically shut down. Within moments, the room as Zhou Ming knew it transformed into a space filled with chaos and gloom. When even the surrounding walls vanished, he was left in an engulfing, absolute darkness.
Zhou Ming stood frozen, surveying his new, eerily dark surroundings with a sense of odd familiarity and a peculiar comfort.
After some time, his eyes began to adjust to the dimness. In the midst of the chaotic shadows, he noticed some indistinct shapes that piqued his curiosity.
With a moment of hesitation, Zhou Ming walked towards these shapes, his mind racing with thoughts about what they could be, judging from their position and distance.
He began to discern several distinct objects in the heart of this dark, chaotic void. These appeared to be lifelike “models,” suspended in what should have been the far end of his room.
Names like the Vanished, White Oak, Pland, Frost came to mind… and there was the “World Tree” Atlantis, eerily floating in the air.
These objects lingered in the vast, seemingly lifeless expanse, appearing to be the sole remnants in this transformed “world.”
Zhou Ming gazed in awe at these floating “collectibles,” his mind racing with an onslaught of questions and theories.
Why is this happening? What does it all mean? What message is this surreal experience trying to convey to me?
In the midst of the enveloping darkness, the “World Tree” Atlantis appeared to Zhou Ming like a floating potted plant, spinning gently as if adrift. Its branches tenderly extended into the void, either exploring the space around them or growing without direction or intent. Zhou Ming observed this miniature representation of the World Tree with a mix of curiosity and hesitation. After a brief pause, he tentatively reached out a finger towards it.
It was in this moment of reaching out that Zhou Ming became acutely aware of a startling transformation in his own body. With a sense of wonder and disbelief, he observed that his flesh and blood had morphed into a cosmic display of starlight. His being was now filled with dense galaxies and shimmering nebulae, giving the impression of a mist of stars. The stars within him seemed to hang motionless, reminiscent of an ancient, starry illusion painted on the dome of a deep, dark ocean.
Yet, something about this cosmic transformation felt different, unfamiliar.
As Zhou Ming gazed in surprise at his arm, his thoughts were interrupted when his finger made contact with a branch of the World Tree.
In that moment, his “mind” was inundated with a deluge of information, so vast and complex it defied human comprehension. Within this torrent of data, Zhou Ming felt as if he were traversing through an eternity of existence in an instant – witnessing the birth of primitive deities, the emergence of the first life forms, giant trees, vast forests, flowing rivers, towering mountains, evolving civilizations, and a tapestry of memories…
Overwhelmed, Zhou Ming took a half-step back, the flood of information abruptly receding. He opened his eyes to find Atlantis still spinning in its place, its branches occasionally whipping against its fellow models like White Oak, Pland, and Frost…
Stunned for several seconds, Zhou Ming eventually regained his composure. He looked at the surreal scene before him and spoke in a bewildered tone, “Atlantis, don’t bully your roommates.”
He then lifted his gaze to the vast darkness around him.
Before the room had vanished, this was the spot where a shelf stood against the wall of his bachelor apartment – the boundary of his confined space, the “cocoon’s” shell.
But now, with the room gone, the darkness seemed infinite.
Zhou Ming hesitated, then slowly rose and began to cautiously move toward the darkness, feeling his way as though he feared colliding with the wall he remembered being there.
His caution proved wise.
Almost immediately, he encountered an unseen barrier in the darkness – a hard, cold surface obstructed his path. Feeling his arm bump against this barrier, he pushed against it, only to find it immovable.
The room might have disappeared, but the “cocoon’s” shell remained. He was still trapped in this place, unable to escape. The seemingly endless darkness was, in reality, just another aspect of the hard, confining shell.
Zhou Ming stood before this invisible barrier, knocking on it a few times in vain before resigning himself to the situation. He turned back, looking towards the direction from which he had come.
Only a lone door stood silently amidst the engulfing darkness in a room where every piece of furniture, including the computer, had mysteriously vanished. It appeared to be the solitary escape from this enigmatic space.
After a prolonged silence, Zhou Ming broke the quietude, addressing the darkness, “Can anyone explain this?” Despite realizing that speaking to the void might seem irrational, he persisted with grave seriousness, “Is this some kind of ‘answer’?”
The darkness offered no reply.
“Is this a clue about the ‘Inverse Singularity’ concept? Or perhaps an obscure ‘demonstration’ meant to enlighten me about my essence or abilities?”
Still, the darkness did not respond.
Zhou Ming continued, seeking clarity, “Can anyone elucidate—what’s the purpose behind sending a 0.002-second fragment of the universe through time? Where can I find guidance for my journey?” He then sarcastically added, “Isn’t there customer support? A civilization that has reached the pinnacle of time and yet fails to provide a user manual? Hello? Is anyone there?”
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation
But there was no one; he was alone in the darkness.
In the vast emptiness following the catastrophic destruction of his home universe, only Zhou Ming’s consciousness lingered, trapped within a hard, pitch-black ‘cocoon.’ For the first time, he became acutely aware of the immense void surrounding him.
Time, unmeasured and indistinct, passed. Zhou Ming felt as though centuries might have elapsed in this desolate darkness before he finally exhaled a faint sigh.
“There’s nothing here…” He spoke, his voice tinged with a hint of self-derision.
Preparing to rest, though his supernatural, star-like body seemed beyond the reach of fatigue, he began to sit. However, just as he was about to lower himself, something caught his eye—a fine, barely visible ‘bright edge’ flickered momentarily in his peripheral vision, a brief glimmer in the unrelenting darkness.
Instantly, his eyes widened in alertness.
It was a slender line.
Without a second thought, he reached out and grasped the line. The slight tension he felt assured him it was real, not a figment of his imagination.
Zhou Ming quickly lifted the line for closer inspection. After a moment, he traced its origin to where the line extended beyond an unseen boundary outside the ‘cocoon.’
Standing up slowly, line firmly in hand, he observed it effortlessly piercing through the ‘invisible barrier’ he had never been able to breach, floating into the vast, unending darkness outside. The other end of the line vanished into the void, its destination or connection unknown.
Zhou Ming cautiously tugged on the mysterious line several times, each pull met with a gentle resistance that seemed impossible to overcome. He was reluctant to exert more force, fearing he might sever this singular link to the world beyond his current confinement.
After a period of deliberation, Zhou Ming decided on a course of action. With a deliberate motion, he summoned a small, pale green flame to his fingertip, gently guiding it towards the thread.
In an instant, as if pulled by an unseen magnet, the flame was absorbed into the thread’s core, vanishing completely.
The connection he had with the flame abruptly ceased.
Zhou Ming blinked, taken aback by this unforeseen development. The bond with his flame, something he had always maintained, even across formidable barriers like the deep sea that felt like another dimension, had never been cut off so completely before!
Was this mysterious occurrence a result of the thread or the unseen barrier’s interference?
These thoughts swirled briefly in Zhou Ming’s mind. But before he could ponder any further, he felt a sudden emptiness in his hand—the thin line had vanished.
Before he could fully process this, a deep, resonating hum filled the space around him. Then, light and color flooded his vision as if a system rebooting after a temporary shutdown. The walls, windows, roof, floor, and all the furnishings in the room reemerged in a spectacle of bright lights and shifting shadows!
Caught off-guard by this abrupt transformation, Zhou Ming instinctively retreated, steadying himself against a nearby shelf. The branches of Atlantis brushed against his arm as he did so.
“Don’t I even get a little warning… This is my ‘home’ after all…” He couldn’t help but murmur to himself, slightly shaking his head while his eyes scanned the room, reassessing his surroundings. Then, as if sensing something, he abruptly looked up.
At that very moment, a sound echoed through the quiet of his bachelor apartment—
“Knock, knock, knock…”
Someone was at the door.
The world’s shortest horror story consists of only two sentences that were written and published in 1948 by Fredric Brown: “The last man on Earth sat alone in a room. There was a knock at the door…”