The earth is a prison. The starry sky is an illusion, the mountains and rivers are prisons, and human beings are a defeated civilization that has been domesticated for a hundred thousand years.
When Chen Mo was seventeen years old, he lit the first human fire in Suolong Cave. When the flames from his fingertips illuminated the stone wall, he saw the truth - those carvings were the operation diagram of the technique and the sealed power of his ancestors. He even saw the drummer kneeling in the sea of blood among the corpses. The man with the same appearance screamed: "Don't forget!"
Now, the bronze fragments on his chest burned his skin, and the "Department of Physics" on the admission notice flashed with fluorescence. Underground in the library of East China Normal University, the remains of 365 war drums are resonating. In the sky, the "jailer's eye" named Rigel has locked onto this mountain village boy.
"What they want is not extinction, but domestication." Li Yong, the monument keeper, reflected a strange light on his lenses. "Using the memories of seven billion people as weapons, and using the mental energy of the dying people as viruses - this is the answer written by Chen Pojun a hundred thousand years ago."
When the war drums sound again, it will either pollute the absolute rationality of the gods with "human nature", or it will become the most perfect experimental specimen in the universe. Chen Mo held the fragment tightly, blood seeping out from between his fingers. On the fragment of the last page of "The Record of Fire", the ultimate price that had been deliberately concealed was gradually revealed:
"If you want to break the heavenly prison, burn yourself first."
