The air in the control room was suffocatingly heavy. Though the Ψ symbol had vanished from the screens, everyone knew the world was not back to normal.
Wang Jing stared intently at the data screen, his voice trembling noticeably: "The global financial systems… they haven't resumed normal operation. They're not just down; they're locked in some kind of 'waiting state'."
Li Chenyuan's gaze was sharp as a blade, his voice cold: "Waiting for what?"
"It's like they're waiting for a command…" Wang Jing swallowed hard, a fine sweat beading on his forehead.
Before the words faded, the split screens around the control room lit up simultaneously. The New York Stock Exchange, Tokyo's Shinjuku, London's Buckingham Square, Shanghai's Lujiazui—the giant screens of four international financial hubs flashed in unison. The abyssal blue Ψ symbol reappeared. But this time, it wasn't flashing chaotically; it pulsed with a perfectly synchronized, steady rhythm.
"My god…" a young engineer gasped. "It's like… a heartbeat?"
Indeed, the Ψ symbol pulsed with the stable rhythm of a pulse, perfectly synchronized across four global locations. Data streams reorganized at an astonishing speed. Banking systems, stock exchanges, electronic payment platforms—all automatically synced to the same baseline time.
"This isn't system recovery," Wang Jing said quietly, his voice laced with unconcealed dread. "This is forced alignment… Ψ is pulling the entire world onto the same frequency!"
The feed suddenly switched to a London trading floor. A broker, face deathly pale, was tapping on his desk with uncontrollable, rhythmic motions—Morse code perfectly matching the flashing on the screens. In a Tokyo hospital, an elderly dementia patient who had been asleep for years suddenly opened his eyes, muttering the same rhythm. Even more chillingly, hundreds of anonymous accounts appeared simultaneously on dark web forums, all posting the same single line:
[F.LK, I hear you.]
Dead silence fell over the control room. Several technicians stared at these messages, their faces ashen, fingers trembling uncontrollably. Someone cursed under their breath: "How do we fight this? It's not destroying… it's conscripting…"
Su Xiaolan jolted. Deep in her mind, the low whale song sounded again, but this time it wasn't a single voice. It was multiple vocal strands interwoven, layering and pressing down on her like a tidal wave. She could feel it clearly—others were answering the call too.
"...It's awakening more people," she whispered, her fingers unconsciously clenching the long-misshapen chip bag.
"What does that mean?" Lu Xingze frowned, his voice urgent. "Explain clearly!"
"Ψ doesn't want just me," her voice trembled slightly, yet held an unnatural calm. "It wants to build an 'Anchor cluster'… to synchronize us all."
Suddenly, her vision blacked out. An unfamiliar image flashed through her mind—endless snowfields under the Northern Lights, a massive metal舱 (cabin/container) (faintly visible) beneath the ice, rust-streaked yet still glowing with an abyssal blue light. It wasn't her memory, yet it overlapped strangely with her own heartbeat.
She sucked in a sharp breath, cold sweat pouring down her forehead. "...I feel someone else's breath… not Ψ's, but… another consciousness."
Wang Jing's face turned pale. "If one Anchor deviates, will the entire cluster collapse?" No one answered. The implication was clear.
"That's exactly why she can't stay here!" Lu Xingze stepped forward abruptly, his voice sharp and urgent. "Xiaolan, come with me! StarShield can at least protect your safety, keep you from being controlled by Ψ!"
Li Chenyuan let out a cold laugh, his eyes icy as the deep sea. "Your 'protection' is locking her in a glass cage, treating her like a lab specimen?"
Their gazes clashed violently mid-air. The scent of gunpowder instantly filled the control room.
Gu Yu's projection, however, laughed with near-delirium, his eyes blazing with fanaticism. "Don't you understand yet? She is no longer someone you can 'protect'! She is Ψ's Primary Anchor. Soon, a second, a third Anchor will appear. You will be forced to face—a choice of分裂 (division/schism)."
He suddenly lowered his voice, adding with a sinister smile: "I hear it too. More than just her." The temperature in the control room seemed to drop several more degrees.
Su Xiaolan closed her eyes. The whale song in her mind pressed down relentlessly. When she opened them again, her gaze held a trace of desperate self-mockery.
"Me… a salted fish… ends up having to compete with the whole world in heartbeat synchronization?"
No one could laugh. She forced a bitter smile. "I used to think the worst that could happen to a salted fish was getting moldy. Now I know… a salted fish flipping over… can collapse the entire financial system."
Her fingertips trembled slightly, but her eyes remained fixed on the new text appearing on the screen.
The giant screen displayed icy words once more:
[Phase II: Anchor Alignment]
[Anchor Alignment Procedure—Initializing]
Then, a new message popped up:
[Anchor Detected: No.2]
[Location: Iceland · Deep Sea Data Vault]
The room fell utterly silent.
"Iceland?" Wang Jing's throat was tight. "That's Northern Europe's largest Cold War-era data vault… abandoned for years…"
"Is Ψ guiding us?" Lu Xingze frowned, analyzing the possibilities urgently.
"No," Su Xiaolan whispered tremulously, fear in her eyes. "It's awakening… another Anchor."
At that moment, the rhythm in her mind oscillated more violently, as if someone's breathing pattern overlapped with her own. An unfamiliar, heavy consciousness beat the rhythm of a second heart within her mind.
Her pupils contracted sharply, her voice shaking: "...I'm not alone anymore."
The control room was tomb-silent.
Li Chenyuan gripped her icy hand tightly, his voice low and firm: "No matter how many Anchors there are, you belong only to me."
Lu Xingze retorted coldly, his tone sharp as a knife: "Wrong! This is no longer a private matter between you and her! This is a judgment for the entire world!"
Gu Yu's projection burned with fervor, his voice filled with ecstasy: "Excellent… Ψ is finally unleashing Its true power! Let all Anchors emerge!"
The screen flickered one last time, displaying a new message:
[Anchor Alignment: Progress 5%]
[Next Anchor Location: Iceland · Deep Sea Data Vault]
The whale song reverberated through the control room like war drums from a ten-thousand-meter trench, making everyone's heart ache.
After a brief, dead silence, Wang Jing spoke, his voice trembling: "Ψ has marked the path… If we don't reach Iceland first, the second Anchor will be taken by It completely."
Lu Xingze's eyes turned cold. He immediately turned and ordered: "StarShield's jet is ready for takeoff."
Li Chenyuan stepped forward, his voice cold as iron: "She comes with me. The Li fleet will head north immediately."
Gu Yu's projection flickered, his laughter brimming with near-joyous anticipation: "Good… go. Go and welcome His next witness."
Su Xiaolan clutched the chip bag, her fingertips trembling. The unfamiliar breathing rhythm still overlapped with hers in her mind, like someone waiting for her in the distance.
She took a deep breath, her voice hoarse but clear: "...Iceland. I want to see with my own eyes… who the other prisoner is."