Don't go to the moon, there are gods on the far side of the moon.

That hand didn't touch anyone.

It passed through the metallic shadow at the bottom of the toolbox, like across a distant body of water. There was an old burn on the back of his hand, and his index finger was bent unnaturally.

Xiaoman lunged forward, then stopped just an inch from the end.

She remembered the rules: missing someone is not a right, and reuniting with them does not grant confirmation for the other person.

"Dad," she asked, her voice choked with sobs, "can you hear me?"

The hand struck three short blows and two long ones.

can.

Lin Wangchuan did not return fully. His voice came from the residual loop of the maintenance ring, intermittent but clearer than any recording. He said that after being removed from the maintenance position, he only had a fragment of consciousness that could be briefly accessed; forcibly pulling him back would allow the reverse well to find a single point again.

Lin Jibai remained silent for a long time before finally saying, "Okay, I'll owe you for now. I'll treat you to dinner later."

Lin Wangchuan chuckled and, as before, scolded him for being useless.

Xiaoman finally burst into tears. She didn't get to hug her father, but for the first time, she received a response that wasn't impersonated, pieced together, or replaced by the system. That response was minimal, as rare as a dying spark in the darkness.

But it's true.

Xu Wangshu recorded Lin Wangchuan's status as follows: Incomplete return, retaining only his brief expression, prohibiting forced access based on family wishes, and prohibiting extended access based on research value.

Qin Lan stamped the seal.

Wen Zhaolin looked at the record and said softly, "If that sentence had been written back then, perhaps many things wouldn't have turned out this way."

"So write it now," Qin Lan said. "Don't mistake regret for merit."

Wen Zhaolin nodded without refuting.

Lin Jibai's stability returned to forty-one. Still dangerous, but no longer falling. The hand at the bottom of the toolbox slowly faded, finally leaving three very light taps on the metal casing.

Like saying goodbye.

It's like an agreement.

Before anyone could catch their breath, all the lights in the main control cabin suddenly went out.

This time, there was no white light, no signal, and no visible anomalies.

Only a very soft knock sounded in each person's ear.

It doesn't come from the radio, the screen, or the DreamNet.

It resonates directly in people's memories.

Xu Wangshu immediately realized that external observation had removed all traceable media. It no longer learned from light, sound, or even a specific person. It began to touch people's most private "recollections".

Qin Lan forced herself to remain calm: "Everyone, report what happened on the scene, but don't report who you heard."

Lu Chengong spoke first: "I heard the door open, but it wasn't opened."

Xiaoman, with her eyes closed, said, "I heard the door open, but it didn't."

Xu Wangshu: "I heard the door open, but it didn't."

Wen Zhaolin looked into the darkness and slowly said, "I heard the door open, but it didn't."

One node after another was connected.

The hospital nurses' station, the exhibition hall duty room, the western suburban ground station, the rooftop of Tianheng Building, the lunar far-side lighthouse, the old meteorological tower, the space city's main control module. Everyone acknowledged the commotion outside, yet refused to open the door for any entity without knowing its intentions, boundaries, and consequences.

This is not expulsion.

It's not closed off either.

This is the first time that humanity has used its own way to tell those outside the door: answers can be recorded, but not provided on behalf of others; verification can be awaited, but entry is not permitted.

Lin Jibai's flashlight shone in the darkness.

He wasn't dragged into the reverse well again. Because this time, maintenance wasn't his responsibility alone.

The coordinates left by Lin Wangchuan appeared on the screen. It was not between the Earth and the Moon, nor outside the North Heavenly Gate, but a region that all human deep space probes deliberately avoided: above the Sea of ​​Tranquility on the far side of the Moon, a black doorway that never emitted light.

A new line of cold white records appeared next to the door frame.

[Observation method changed.]

[The next visit will not be through the light.]

Lin Jibai tapped on the side of the toolbox.

"Then don't let it think that just because it's a little dark, people can't hear it."

The darkness lasted for a full eleven seconds.

In those eleven seconds, not a single person in the control room screamed. Some were breathing heavily, some were hitting their knees on the table corner, and others instinctively reached for their companions' sleeves. Qin Lan didn't stop these small movements. Mutual confirmation of presence didn't equate to confirmation for those outside the door.

When the backup lights came back on, the light was dim, illuminating only the exhaustion on everyone's faces. Xu Wangshu immediately checked the recording system and found that all external links were normal, but the anomaly had left no traceable waveform. It had truly bypassed the equipment and directly implanted the "door knocking" into people's memories.

This is more dangerous than radios, weather towers, and the zeroth relay station.

Because people cannot erase or seal away their memories.

Qin Lan quickly changed her approach: she didn't ask for specific details or request descriptions of private moments; she only recorded whether there was a "knock on the door" sensation, whether there was an urge to respond, and whether any action was taken. Protecting privacy itself became the new boundary.

The first submission came from a hospital nurse. She wrote: "I felt a knock on the door, thought it was the ward door, but it didn't open. I will continue to stay with the patient."

The second is the exhibition hall staff: there's a knock on the door, they think of the model display case, it's not open, so they turn off the exhibition lights.

Zhou Jianguo wrote even shorter: Heard it, ignored it, the manhole cover is still there.

Chen Rui added: "My master was indeed wrong, and so was I."

These reports weren't like grand battle reports, but more like night shift logs. Yet it was precisely this ordinariness that gradually brought the sounds of knocking on the door in the darkness back to a manageable level.

Wen Zhaolin did not submit his application for a long time. Qin Lan looked at the remote screen and saw him sitting in front of the review panel, his face pale.

"You don't need to say what you heard," Qin Lan reminded her.

Wen Zhaolin nodded, and after a long while wrote: "I felt a sense of urgency to plead guilty in exchange for the door being opened, but I did not comply. I request to continue to be supervised."

Qin Lan approved it, but added: "Supervision is not a ritual of atonement, but a tool to prevent recidivism."

Wen Zhaolin looked at the line of words and slowly lowered his head.

Beside the toolbox, Xiaoman held the repair code left by Lin Wangchuan and suddenly asked, "What if it keeps beeping?"

Xu Wangshu did not answer immediately. She looked out the window, where the lights of the space city were being restored one by one, and the old meteorological tower still stood in the distance, like a bone that had just been straightened.

"Then we'll keep recording," she said, "but not be afraid all the time."

Lin Jibai's voice came from the box, weaker than before, yet carrying a familiar languor: "It's not like I'm always working overtime. Shift work, understand?"

Lu Chenggong laughed and scolded, "Get out of the box first before we talk about getting off work."

"We still need to talk even when we're outside," Lin Jibai said. "We need to learn from the world outside, and the first lesson should be the schedule."

Xiaoman finally smiled.

Before the smile could fade, a black marker lit up on the deep-space silent monitoring screen of the main control module. It didn't emit light, but it caused a section of the surrounding star image to be cut off. That position corresponded precisely to the black doorway above the Sea of ​​Tranquility on the far side of the moon.

There was no sound next to the marker, only a new coordinate verification.

After reading it, Xu Wangshu's face gradually darkened.

Those are not coordinates pointing towards Earth.

It points to the far reaches of space, as if something outside the door is turning back to signal to another darkness: here, some will refuse to answer, while others will continue to listen.

Qin Lan closed the recorder and said in a low voice, "Prepare for a long-term duty."

Lin Jibai knocked on the side of the box.

"I can stand guard," he said. "Let's fix the lights first. It'll be dark, and the person outside might think we have no taste."