Chapter Three: The White Platform

“Who is waiting?” Every screen changed. An older man sat in an empty office with tea beside him. Zhou Qishan. The image was live. He looked up as though Lin sat across his desk. “Xiao Lin,” he said. “You're two days early.” “You wrote Peripheral Vision.” “Only its first line. People here wrote the rest back into your world.” “Let them return.” “If they return now, the door follows. Linlan creates four hundred million ignored records each second. The pressure between spaces is beyond threshold. We need people who see the fissures to hold the boundary.” Xu stepped beneath the screen. “You use abducted people as rivets?” Zhou did not look at her. “Your sister called them living anchors.” Xu dropped her flashlight. “You knew Xu Xi?”