Game Era – Lost Odyssey

In the vast, boundless depths of the universe—without beginning or end—there exists a singular, cerulean blue planet.

From the day of its birth, it has silently traced a fixed orbit around a colossal, blazing fireball, while spinning noiselessly on its own axis like a top. For billions of years, it has continued this way, seemingly destined to spin on unchangingly forever.

Until an unexpected moment arrived. On its surface emerged a tiny, insignificant organic entity called “life.” Over billions of years of evolution, “life” diversified into hundreds of millions of forms. Among them, one form gained an ability known as “intelligence” and began to probe, speculate, and unravel the essence of their existence, the meaning of survival, and the truth of the world they inhabited. Due to differing approaches, countless legends and debates arose, giving birth to a myriad of religions, myths, philosophies, literature, arts, and sciences.

The massive image of the blue planet rotated silently in the air. From all around it, not a single specific lifeform could be seen, nor any trace of their activity. They were so insignificant that their existence could easily be overlooked entirely.

Yet, the few individuals seated around this enormous projection—dressed in a way that marked them as human—could not ignore them. They had argued over this issue for a long time, until no one wished to continue the debate. So, they fell silent, staring blankly at the giant image of the blue planet hovering in the air.

“Let’s vote,” a voice finally broke the stillness from the chairman’s platform, carrying the tone of a divine decree. “Let’s decide by vote whether to trigger a great destruction and let everything in this world start anew.”

“Is there even a need to vote again?” someone objected, tapping a few buttons on the armrest of their chair. “Want to see the truest public opinion? Isn’t their vote enough to make up our minds?”

Before the words fully settled, a small window popped up in the void, displaying two cylinders—one tall, one short. The red cylinder representing “agree” towered far above “oppose,” accompanied by a long string of ten-digit numbers beneath it. The speaker continued, “Creating a fair and just ‘real’ world is the inevitable trend, the will of the people. It’s only a matter of time.”

“Even though over ninety-five percent support starting over, the risks and costs are simply too great. We can’t bear it,” someone voiced their concern helplessly, their words immediately met with quiet murmurs of agreement from others.

“There’s actually a compromise,” another spoke up.

“What compromise?”

“We could tweak some parameters, minimally affecting the system’s operation. That way, our workload would be much lighter, and the losses far smaller.” As he spoke, he tapped on a small keyboard embedded in the armrest. His fingers were long and pale, and on the ring finger of his left hand sparkled a large pink diamond ring. Under the light, its color, shape, and luster marked it as a priceless, one-of-a-kind treasure.

With his fingers dancing like butterflies, the image of the blue planet in the air began to shrink, gradually revealing a broader starry backdrop. Eventually, what appeared before everyone was the planet orbiting its massive fireball. Pointing at the projection, he said, “Experts have long discovered that this seemingly stable system has a subtle flaw. Likely due to limitations in precision, its rotation speed is gradually slowing. It’s this spin that keeps it stable, like a top, allowing it to maintain a fixed posture and orbit. But if its rotation slows too much one day, it won’t hold its original stance—just like a top spinning too slowly on the ground will eventually topple. When that happens, its inherent balance will collapse, and it will seek a new equilibrium.”

“What would happen then? An unpredictable catastrophe?” someone pressed.

“It would’ve been impossible to predict or estimate, but with proper guidance, we can make it entirely predictable—even simulate it in advance,” he explained. “If we reduce the star’s heat output parameter, the planet’s surface temperature will drop. The polar ice caps will thicken, locking vast amounts of water into ice at the poles, altering its shape. Once the ice caps grow thick enough and the rotation slows, the star’s gravity will tip the top over. Its original balance will break, and it will adjust to a new one. During this process, the magnetic field’s orientation will shift: the poles will become the equator, and new poles will form along the old equator. The planet’s major tectonic plates, influenced by this new centrifugal force, will grind and collide, triggering tsunamis, volcanic eruptions, and earthquakes. Take a look at the simulation prepared by the experts.”

He continued typing rapidly. The blue planet’s rotation slowed visibly, its polar white regions expanding and thickening. Finally, it tilted roughly ninety degrees, its original spin halting before restarting around a new axis defined by the new poles. Pointing at the white patches now along the new equator, he said, “Here, the original polar ice caps are now at the hottest equatorial zone, so they’ll melt rapidly. With so much ice turning to water in a short time, there’s your catastrophe.”

“What would happen?” several voices asked in unison.

“First, the geomagnetic field will fall into chaos, rendering most supernatural settings tied to it obsolete. Second, the melting ice, combined with tidal shifts from the star’s gravity, will cause a global flood. Sea levels will surge, submerging most landmasses. Amid tsunamis, earthquakes, and volcanic eruptions, the continent on the weakest tectonic plate will vanish forever beneath the sea.”

“Atlantis!” someone exclaimed involuntarily.

“Exactly!” He gently caressed the pink diamond ring on his left hand. “The continent of Atlantis is the pinnacle of civilization—the most prosperous and advanced. Nearly all magical secrets, supernatural gear, treasures, and miracles were originally set there. Once it sinks beneath the sea, we’ll have achieved our goal.”

The hall fell silent again. Everyone quietly watched the blue planet’s transformation in the air, exchanging glances that still betrayed doubt. But the evolving scene in the void spoke for itself: the azure waters swallowed vast swathes of land, and the entire continent of Atlantis sank completely.

“Doctor, is this deduction accurate?” the figure at the chairman’s platform asked gravely. Beside him, the earlier speaker replied with unwavering confidence, “This is a simulation refined over years by dozens of experts, rigorously validated. I’ve submitted the report to the committee. The parameters I just entered were exactly what the experts provided—didn’t you all see the result?”

“But a disaster this massive—won’t it wipe out all civilization on the planet? If so, how’s that different from starting over?” someone voiced their worry.

“We can use oracles to warn a few in advance, giving them time to prepare. The simulation shows this catastrophe won’t destroy all civilization—some will survive and carry on.”

After another round of hushed discussion, all eyes turned to the figure at the chairman’s platform. He scanned the room, then nodded. “Alright, let’s first test these parameters with a computer simulation. If it plays out as demonstrated, we’ll adjust the star’s heat output accordingly. Any objections?”

Seeing everyone nod in agreement, he stood. “Good! We’ll adjourn for three days. Once the computer results are in, we’ll hold a final vote. If it passes, we’ll implement these changes and announce our decision to the outside world, putting an end to this long debate once and for all.”

Three days later, they reconvened. The data had passed the tests, and the parameter adjustments were approved. The numbers were fed into the computer, instantly rippling across every node in the network. The system began a slow, synchronized shift. In the hall’s central projection, the blue planet’s polar ice caps grew larger and thicker, its rotation steadily slowing.

Finally, tugged by the distant fireball’s gravity, the spinning orb’s poles tilted toward the horizontal. The old poles became the equator, and with new poles, it began a fresh rotation…

Meanwhile, in another dimension, every lifeform on that blue planet marveled at the world’s drastic changes. Days and nights stretched longer, as if locked in endless daylight or darkness. The sun blazed high, and under steaming vapor, multiple solar illusions danced in the sky—a terrifying sight etched forever into the memories of those intelligent beings as an indelible legend.

Worse still, the sun, once rising in the east and setting in the west, now fell southward and rose from the north. The earth trembled, molten lava spewed from mountaintops, flowing as “fire rivers” that incinerated everything in their path.

Penguins in icy realms felt the air grow scorching, the eternal ice beneath their feet melting away until it vanished entirely. Meanwhile, a mammoth grazing peacefully on a plain felt the temperature plummet, snow cascading from the sky. As it fled in panic, the surrounding water froze into ice, trapping it in a white, chaotic void. Buried under miles of frost, it wouldn’t resurface for tens of thousands of years.

Even more terrifying, water surged from everywhere—the seas, the skies, the rivers—flooding most of the land in no time. Countless creatures floundered in the deluge, fleeing aimlessly in blind panic.

During this chaos, only a few intelligent beings—calling themselves humans—survived, guided by divine foresight. In the West, Noah built his ark, preserving the seeds of life. In the East, Gonggong, Gun, and Yu battled the floods for decades, until Yu tamed the waters, securing a paradise-like land for their people.

After countless cycles of day and night, the world settled back to normal, the length of days restored. Yet, unaccustomed to a sun rising in the south and setting in the north, people redefined the old south as the new east, the old east as the new north. With time, they forgot this great shift, leaving only the memory of the horrific flood in their myriad legends.

The earth finally stilled. The flowing “fire rivers” cooled, the floods receded—and with them disappeared Atlantis, later called the Great Western Continent. Its pyramids, grand temples, towering city-states, and countless intelligent beings all rested silently beneath the sea, in an area later named “Bermuda,” save for the peak of Cyprus. This mysterious land and its miracles became the most enigmatic and distant myth among the blue planet’s intelligent inhabitants—a tale spread even wider by a sage named Plato.

Everything unfolded as planned, perfectly. No one knew that a tiny glitch had slipped through—a flaw that wouldn’t reveal its devastating power until millennia later, a power capable of destroying the entire world. By the time people sensed it and tried to stop it, it was far too late.

Perhaps it wasn’t a glitch, but a conspiracy—one that had begun months earlier…