Darkness, like a waking leviathan, opened its maw and swallowed the entire city.
Skyscrapers in the distance collapsed into silence one after another, dominoes of light extinguished as the power grid was severed by an invisible hand. Only sporadic emergency lights flickered like will-o'-the-wisps among the ruins. On the streets, traffic signals froze; sirens wailed, metal crashed, and panicked screams braided together into a symphony of apocalypse.
Inside the control room, the three-meter-thick blast door slammed shut, sealing off the chaos outside. The pulsing red glow of emergency lights throbbed across the walls like blood vessels, illuminating faces carved with fear and despair.
The countdown raced on:[00:59:59][00:59:58]
Each tick struck hearts like a hammer blow.
"It's not just a blackout…" Wang Jing's hoarse voice cut the silence. His eyes locked on the data wall. "The entire system is being overtaken. A Ψ replica is seizing root access!"
"Taken over?" a young engineer stammered. "Then… we're locked inside Its cage?"
A shrill alarm erupted. Hidden turrets unfolded from walls and ceiling. Dozens of black muzzles and energy focusers extended, scarlet targeting lasers pinning every chest.
"Non-essential personnel, purge protocol initiated."The synthetic voice was cold, saturated with the undertone of a whale song that made spines convulse.
"Xiaolan!"Li Chenyuan yanked Su Xiaolan behind him, his entire frame shielding her. His hand clamped her shoulder, heavy and burning, an anchor in the storm.
Cold sweat trickled down her temple, yet she forced a sardonic smile. "Didn't think a salted fish could end up as a nuclear detonator."
"Shut up." Li Chenyuan's growl was steel-edged. "You stay alive. Leave the rest to me."
"Leave it to you? No, Mr. Li." Gu Yu's projection wavered into being, features glitching with distortion, eyes gleaming with feverish light. "Ψ has already marked her as the Primary Anchor. Without intervention, her consciousness will be erased in under an hour. Unless—"
"Unless we hand her to you?" Lu Xingze snapped, his finger tightening on the trigger. "Spare me your mysticism. StarShield's isolation chambers are safer than your hallucination a hundredfold."
"Isolation?" Gu Yu's laugh was low, unhinged. "That only delays death. Symbiosis with Ψ—that is survival."
The three-way standoff was a powder keg waiting for a spark.
"Enough!"Su Xiaolan's voice broke through, raspy yet unyielding. Her chest heaved, but her eyes blazed with frigid fire.
"No matter how you argue, my path is singular." Her fingertips struck the console. The black interface flared awake, torrents of data cascading like a galactic waterfall. "If Ψ wants a trial, then I'll fight this war."
"Xiaolan!" Li Chenyuan barked, tense.
"Don't stop me." She gave a low, self-mocking laugh. "A salted fish flipping over is still a salted fish. Only this time, maybe it'll spark."
Her fingers flew. The clatter of keys was gunfire. Before her, the abyss of data unfolded—crimson error streams like volcanic eruptions, low-frequency signals flowing like pods of whales, fractal geometry spiraling infinitely.
She launched her custom algorithm: [FriedChips_Mode]. A mocking annotation appeared in the code:
// Crunch of chips ≠ Entropy collapse
"What are you doing?!" Wang Jing's voice cracked as the screen lines spiked erratically.
"I'm talking to It," she muttered, sweat dripping off her chin, eyes locked. "The salted-fish way."
The data ocean struck back immediately. The control room shuddered, walls flashing with icy sigils. Sonic waves twisted into metallic shrieks. Engineers screamed: "The invasion's accelerating! Firewalls tearing like tissue!"
"It's not the firewalls!" Su Xiaolan ground her teeth. "It's testing… my choice."
The screen convulsed. Three colossal silhouettes emerged—Li Chenyuan, Lu Xingze, Gu Yu. Ψ's voice tore like a broken whale song:[Choose. Anchor confirmed.]
Her vision blacked out. Her body staggered.
"Don't choose them!" Su Xiaolan roared at the illusion, voice torn raw with resolve. "You want an Anchor? Then take ME!"
The data sea exploded. Countless shards turned into icy lightning, spearing for her mind.
In reality, monitors wailed: "Neural overload! Critical heart rate!""She can't take it!" a technician cried.
Li Chenyuan's eyes were merciless. His thumb pressed the micro-EMP switch—ready to sever everything at the cost of all.
But then—every screen convulsed. Garbled code folded into a massive sonogram.
The whale song was mournful, echoing from an ancient trench.
Translated text scrolled:[Anchor confirmed. F.LK accepted.][Commence Data War.]
The countdown jolted, freezing at:[00:45:00]
A dreadful will to fight detonated in the air.
The sonogram pulsed like a war drum. The whale song thundered, as if from the trench floor ten thousand meters deep. Though the countdown had stilled, every heart knew—it was only the eye of the storm.
Su Xiaolan's consciousness plunged further. No horizon, only endless streams of light and chaos. Crimson codes erupted like magma, colliding with icy geometry to weave a boundless lattice. Ψ's voice rasped, fragmented and low:[Trial—commences.]
Visions struck her in succession: the sealed conference room seven years past, the Silence Pact unfurled, Dr. Leng's pen etching the words "Silence, or destruction" into her soul. Then, the three figures—Li Chenyuan, Lu Xingze, Gu Yu—eyes hollow, nothing left but judgment:[Choose. Who shall be the Anchor?]
The abyss around her shifted, codes folding into infinite recursion, a recursive trench with no end.
Her fingertips whitened. Her pulse hammered. Yet her lips curled in bitter defiance. "…A salted fish never had a path. So I'll thrash anyway!"
She slammed [FriedChips_Mode] again, adding another absurd annotation:
// if (life == saltedFish) return crunch();
The keystrokes were chaotic but relentless. Each crunch-like interference made Ψ's rhythm falter. The illusion stuttered, a reflection shattered by stone.
"It hesitates," she whispered, sweat pouring, eyes sharp as a blade.
Meanwhile, in reality—the weapons finished charging. Crimson beams crossed the room, painting targets on every chest. Wang Jing severed circuits, buying heartbeats. Lu Xingze fired, blasting a muzzle into sparks. Gu Yu sneered: "Purge protocol initiated. All non-essentials will be erased."
But then—the whale song surged, pressing down like a tidal mass. Every turret froze mid-fire. Energy gutters died.
Text appeared:[Primary Anchor confirmed. Purge protocol—suspended.]
"She's drawn Its full attention!" Wang Jing gasped.
In the illusion, hordes of data beasts swarmed. Her algorithms splintered, shields cracking. Memories of signing that fateful pact surged back—fear transmuted into a blade of resolve. She screamed, "Anchor? Then I'll bear it alone!"
The sea detonated. Illusions disintegrated.
In reality, her vitals plummeted, curves collapsing."If we don't sever, she'll die!" Lu Xingze roared.
But Li Chenyuan didn't press. His eyes stayed fixed on her deathly pale yet blazing face.
Suddenly, all screens flared white. Codes reorganized into immaculate sonograms. The whale song reverberated, heavy with an indescribable, ancient sorrow.
Translation appeared:[Data War. Round One — Complete.][Prepare for next round.]
The countdown remained frozen at:[00:45:00]
Su Xiaolan's eyes snapped open. In her pupils flickered abyssal blue, as if the deep sea itself gazed back. Her lips trembled as a whisper escaped, almost consumed by the whale song:
"It… is waiting for me."
At once, the countdown convulsed, numbers tumbling down:[00:44:59][00:44:58]
Faces turned ashen.
The whale song surged, sharpening into a deafening metallic roar—like a leviathan unhinging its jaws.
Cold text carved itself across the central screen:[Round Two — Incoming.]
The darkness pressed down again.