From American Internet Celebrity to God Among Men

194: Chapter 194 The Pigeons in the SquareIn the deepest part of the ”Flashpoint” Content Lab, a quiet room treated with special acoustic and electromagnetic shielding had been temporarily converted into a training ground. There were no windows, the walls were covered in thick sound-absorbing material, and the lighting could be adjusted to complete darkness. The air circulation system emitted an almost inaudible, faint low hum—the only background noise allowed here.

Alex sat in a chair in the center of the room, wearing a pair of custom headphones connected to a multi-channel signal generation and biofeedback monitoring system. On the large screen in front of him, various analytical views of the 17-second ”active signal” captured in the South Pacific were displayed in sections: waveforms, spectral waterfall plots, time-frequency distributions, and several possible encoding structure models initially disassembled by Team K.

His task was not to ”crack” the signal—that was the job of supercomputers and cryptographers. His mission was to serve as the most precise ”perceptual front-end.” Through repeated exposure to the signal (and its various safely processed variants, fragments, and distorted versions), he would continuously refine, calibrate, and systematically report the dimensions of ”emotional color” and ”intentional tendency” captured by his Information Texture Discrimination.

The training protocol provided by Team K was professional to the point of being cold. It did not care for metaphysical descriptions; it required subjective perception to be ”parameterized” as much as possible.

“Training Sequence A-1: Basic Exposure and ‘Emotional Color’ Anchoring.”

The original sound of the processed signal came through the headphones—slow, cold, with a strange texture of metal and crystal.

Alex closed his eyes, focusing intently.

“Report: Dominant emotional color—Absolute Neutral (0). No fluctuations in like or dislike. Secondary color—Functional Focus (+0.2, leaning towards the calmness of ‘program execution’). Detected extremely faint subsidiary color—Expectation of Environmental Interaction (+0.05, similar to a system standby state waiting for feedback confirmation).” He translated his perception into the numerical descriptions suggested by the protocol.

Biofeedback sensors recorded his heart rate, galvanic skin response, and brainwave patterns (especially bands related to focus and association). The system made initial correlations between his subjective reports and physiological data.

“Training Sequence B-3: Structural Fragment Focus (Suspected ‘Status Report’ unit).”

The headphones played a relatively stable, periodically repeating segment of the signal.

“Report: Texture presents a highly regular ‘system status broadcast.’ Emotional color stable at Neutral (0). Intentional tendency clearly identified as information transmission (clear purpose, no redundancy). Analogy: A satellite beacon periodically sending health data.”

“Training Sequence C-7: Structural Fragment Focus (Suspected ‘Active Probe’ unit).”

A more complex segment of the signal containing subtle changes was played.

Alex’s brow furrowed slightly. The texture this time was different. The cold, programmed feel remained, but there was an added, extremely slight “sense of outward-scanning tentacles.”

“Report: Emotional color remains Neutral (0). However, the intentional tendency shows a split: Primary intent—Environmental Parameter Collection (60%); Secondary intent—Potential Interaction Channel Testing/Probing (40%). The texture of the latter is similar to a radar beam scan, but the purpose is more vague, non-aggressive, more akin to... ‘attempting to understand if any entity capable of interpreting this broadcast exists nearby.’”

This description caused the Team K analysts on the other end of the monitor to pause for a few seconds before a confirmation came through: “Received. ‘Interaction channel test’ hypothesis recorded. Initial match with signal energy divergence patterns increased by 5%. Continue.”

The training lasted for two hours. High-intensity, highly focused perceptual projection was far more draining than mere listening. By the end, Alex felt a mental exhaustion similar to finishing deep mathematical derivations or complex programming, yet his consciousness was exceptionally clear. He could feel his speed in identifying this “non-human texture” accelerating, and the precision of his descriptions improving. More importantly, he began to be able to “separate” the subtle intentional differences carried by different functional modules within the signal to some extent.

This wasn’t combat; it was more like learning the “tonology” of a language from the cold depths of space.

Taking off the equipment, he walked to the lab’s break area, where Marcus was already waiting with a smile on his face.

“Over at Boyle Heights, the first batch of Privet saplings and components for the simple water features have arrived at the community.” Marcus handed over a tablet showing photos and short videos sent from the site. “Volunteer sign-ups far exceeded what we needed. Many are local residents, and there are environmental science students from nearby universities. Planting and installation work starts this weekend. The Department of Transportation also replied; they’ve agreed in principle to pilot changing the notification tones and are currently soliciting design proposals. Our platform can co-host a mini design competition.”

In the images, Ms. Maria and several elderly residents were happily showing off the saplings to the camera, while children hovered around a model of a landscape water wheel, peering curiously. The comments section was filled with encouragement and anticipation.

“Good,” Alex said, taking a sip of water. His mental fatigue was significantly diluted by this ripple of warmth. “Have the content team keep a close eye and record the whole process. Don’t just film the successful moments; record the problems encountered and how they were solved. Authenticity is the most powerful thing. Also, the prizes for the design competition could be more interesting. For example, if a winning sound is officially adopted, the designer could receive a small commemorative plaque engraved with their name and the sound’s waveform, along with a lifetime pass for free rides on that bus line? Check with the bus company to see if that’s feasible.”

“Haha, that’s a great idea! It’s commemorative, has practical benefits, and can generate buzz.” Marcus noted it down. “Submissions for ‘urban respiratory pathology’ are skyrocketing now. Many community organizations from other cities are also starting to contact us, asking if we can collaborate or provide methodological guidance. Should we consider organizing this ‘Diagnosis-Proposal-Crowdfunding/Volunteer Implementation-Tracking Feedback’ model into an open-source toolkit or guide, and put it on the platform for anyone to use for free?”

Alex’s eyes lit up. “That is a fantastic idea. It’s not just about doing a project; it’s about promoting a methodology—a way of thinking that focuses on the surrounding environment and improves it through collective action. Let ‘Echo’ become an incubator and connector for social innovation methods. Get started on it immediately. Consult Dr. Chen and urban planning experts to polish it, ensuring it’s professional and actionable.”

The platform’s boundaries were quietly expanding from a “content community” to an “action platform.” This expansion wasn’t a deliberate plan but a new branch naturally growing as the core user base’s sense of identity deepened. Alex could feel that the popularity growth resulting from this, though slow, was extremely solid and accompanied by a strong positive social-emotional bond. For long-term development, this was a priceless asset.

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Meanwhile, in Vienna.

Taylor sat by the window in the rehearsal hall, watching the pigeons rising and falling in the City Hall Square, while the echoes of the string quartet rehearsal still rang in her ears. This was the rehearsal space for a smaller but innovatively renowned chamber orchestra under the Vienna Philharmonic. The air was thick with the scent of wood, rosin, and the serious artistic atmosphere distilled from history.

The workshop had been going on for two days. The process... was more challenging than she had anticipated, but also more rewarding.

The orchestra’s musicians had impeccable technique and a deep understanding of both classical and modern repertoire. However, they were initially cautious and reserved about adapting an electronic pop work like ”pressure gradient” into serious chamber music. It wasn’t arrogance, but a natural instinct to protect the purity of the art form.

The turning point came when Taylor didn’t just provide scores and instructions, but shared the sources of her creative inspiration—interview transcripts of deep-sea divers, scientific articles on the effects of water pressure on objects and perception, and the various attempts she and Alex had discussed regarding “using sound to depict psychological oppression.” She even played the “emotional guidance audio” produced by the Flashpoint lab, which mixed deep-sea ambient sounds with the original sound effects of ”pressure gradient.”

When the musicians understood that they weren’t simply “translating” a pop song, but were collectively exploring a sonic narrative of “using traditional instruments to depict contemporary technological existence,” their attitude underwent a subtle shift.

The Concertmaster, an elderly gentleman with meticulously combed silver hair and a habitually serious expression, showed a look of near-painful but intense immersion for the first time while attempting to play the dissonant phrase of “suffocating struggle.” After the performance, he was silent for a moment and said, “This reminds me of when I was young, experiencing an air raid in a bomb shelter... that feeling of air being sucked away, noise tearing everything apart, leaving only the frantic pounding of the heart. Yes, I understand what you want to express now, Miss Allison. This isn’t entertainment; this is memory, this is witness.”

In that moment, Taylor knew they had crossed the threshold.

The subsequent rehearsals became deep and creative. The musicians began to contribute their expertise: how to use bowing changes to mimic the attack and release of electronic sound effects, how to utilize the hall’s natural reverb to create a “deep-sea emptiness,” and even proposed introducing an instrument rarely seen in standard chamber music—a Water drum that could emit extremely low-frequency vibrations—to reinforce the pressure resonance originating from within the body.

Taylor learned voraciously while firmly guarding the work’s core “digital texture” and “spatial thinking.” The Flashpoint sound designer she brought along worked closely with the orchestra’s recording engineer, attempting to blend the live performance with meticulously designed, almost inaudible electronic ambient layers in post-production to create a listening experience that was both real (instruments) and surreal (space).

During a break, she walked to the window and sent a message to Alex: “The pigeons here aren’t afraid of people, and the musicians are starting to not be afraid of my ‘weird’ ideas. Progress is better than expected. But I miss your ‘ears’ and... hot chocolate. Vienna coffee is too strong. (Attached: a photo of the pigeons and the concert hall’s spires)”

A reply came quickly: “Pigeons are qualified listeners because they only vote with their wings. Keep shocking them. Hot chocolate is ready, waiting for you to come back for a ‘stress test.’ PS: The new training subjects make me feel that some ‘non-human’ broadcasts might understand what pure functional expression is better than some music critics. (Attached: a slightly comical abstract light map of the Flashpoint quiet room)”

Taylor looked at the reply and couldn’t help but smile. The climbing of artistic peaks and the decoding of signals from a hidden world had turned into a daily tacit understanding and joke between the two. This state of parallel progress and mutual understanding made her feel incredibly at peace and enriched.

She put away her phone and looked out at the square. The pigeons took flight again, sweeping past the ancient architectural spires and merging into the clear autumn sky of Vienna. Meanwhile, in the distant depths of the Pacific, another frequency of “wing-flapping” was being closely monitored, awaiting further interpretation.

Everything was flowing, everything was growing, and everything was gazing at each other from afar.

In the training quiet room in Los Angeles, Alex completed another set of signal comparison exercises. His reports were becoming increasingly precise, and his alignment with Team K’s data analysis results was steadily improving. On the screen, the curve representing the activity of the South Pacific signal had shown a second small, brief enhancement pulse within the past 72 hours before returning to baseline.

It was still “broadcasting,” still “testing.” It maintained an inexplicable, cold regularity.

Alex recorded his training insights and shut down the system. He walked out of the quiet room, returning to a world filled with sunlight and daily sounds. The community improvement project was advancing, the platform was evolving, and Taylor was breaking new ground in the halls of art.

And what he was doing was constantly sharpening this key called “perception,” while simultaneously cultivating this increasingly flourishing “land” before him.

The key might one day be used to open a certain door.

But the land would always be his foundation and his home.