Jan 2, 2025 — 03:00 CST, Shanghai, China
"Alright everyone, that's it for tonight. Remember—don't let your bank accounts nap longer than you do. Sleep tight, dream responsibly. And hey—" Xiuyue tilted her head, flashing a mischievous grin at her floating comments. "—Aurora AI, does Theo need a wife?"
The chat exploded.
RiceCooker420: "LMAO!! 🤣🤣🤣"
TrashPandaLord: "Someone clip this!!"
TypoQueen88: "Xiuyue going straight for CEO-wife arc!"
She snapped her fingers dramatically. The stream went dark, leaving only her reflection in the dim ring light.
Her room returned to ordinary warmth. Mr. Fluff sprawled across the sofa like a tiny, furry overlord. Xiuyue yawned, tugged off her headset, and shuffled toward the kitchen.
"Three in the morning," she muttered, pouring a glass of soy milk. "And I'm making marriage jokes about Theodore Alaric. Truly inspirational."
She sank into her chair, the city lights casting long shadows across the cluttered flat. Thrift-store china, neon rabbit lights, and scattered plushies completed the cozy chaos.
Her mind, however, was far from cozy.
Theo wasn't just a legend. He was a participant in Aurora Network, bound by the same system that recorded her every move. That meant… everything she requested about him would mirror her own life instantly, in equal measure.
Her pulse quickened. Money had parity. Knowledge had parity. And now, curiosity was tempting her with its sharp edge. Could she risk exposure for the sake of seeing?
"If history is inevitability, then his is already inside…" she whispered. "But my history… my childhood diaries, my karaoke disasters, my embarrassing Weibo posts… mirrored to him the instant I peek?"
Mr. Fluff yawned, unimpressed.
Xiuyue leaned back, weighing the thrill against the exposure. The quiet hum of her flat seemed louder, echoing her heartbeat. She imagined the moment the swap would begin—the instant her hidden life flowed into Theo's archive while his life opened before her. No delay. No pause. No undo.
The temptation was sharp, delicious, and terrifying. She exhaled slowly. Curiosity won.
The screen shimmered. Theodore Alaric's archive unfolded before her, every detail precise, deliberate, almost surgical.
[Hall of Archive]
Name: Theodore Alaric
Username: Theodore.Alaric (Pawn) — Founder
Status: Living Archive (Active)
Classification: Immutable
• Born: 16 November 1996 — Switzerland
• Lineage: Sole heir, Alaric Conglomerate
• Partial Inheritance Liquidation: June–July 2015
• Experimental Deployment: September 2015 — Focused transformer, optimized for continuous one-minute scalping
• Application Scope: 50+ anonymous digital exchanges (2015–present)
• Capital Accumulation: USD $20.7B–$30.5B (verified as of December 2023)
• Allocation Protocol:
90% — Aurora Trio infrastructure
10% — Retained liquidity (personal)
• Operational Funding: Aurora reserves
Note:
Subsequent capital flows (2024–present) and current distribution ratio are irretrievable due to the lack of counterbalance.
Xiuyue's eyes widened. "He... He really did it… one minute at a time…"
Her imagination went wild, absorbed by the life of someone who had once been just a name in a legend.
. . .
Jan 1, 2025 — 13:00 CST, San Isidro, Costa Rica
Meanwhile, in a place far from the buzz of Aurora Network chatter, Theodore sat on a shaded veranda. A glass of iced coffee glistened beside him.
A soft ping echoed from his phone. A notification.
His lips curved into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. A quiet laugh slipped free, the first in months.
He accessed Aurora Network through his phone.
And without even glancing at the notification, he simply made a post:
"I love Shanghai hot moms. Lmao."
. . .
Back in Shanghai, Xiuyue leaned back in her chair, letting the city hum wrap itself around her small flat. Mr. Fluff sprawled across the armrest like a tiny, furry overlord, tail flicking lazily in rhythm with her heartbeat. She glanced toward the couch. Her daughter, who had been playing just hours ago, was now curled up under a tiny blanket, soft snores betraying the unusual speed of her sleep.
"Funny how quickly she drifted off," Xiuyue thought. "Was it the excitement from watching Mama's livestream, or just the late hour catching up? Either way… good. Let her sleep through my late-night chaos."
The neon glow from a rabbit-shaped lamp bathed the cluttered room in warm pink and blue light, reflecting off thrift-store china on her shelves. Outside, the distant honk of traffic and soft whir of scooters drifted up from the street below—a lullaby of urban life.
She sipped her soy milk slowly, letting the sweetness calm the slight tremor left by the Aurora Network exchange. The keyboard sat idle, fingers hovering for a fraction longer than necessary, as though she might somehow type out the questions she hadn't dared to ask. But the thrill of curiosity had receded, leaving a comfortable, sleepy calm in its place.
A few plushies remained scattered on the floor, casualties of an earlier play session. Xiuyue let out a soft laugh, scooping up a crooked-eared bunny and tucking it under her arm. "Okay, kiddo," she whispered, glancing at her daughter, "Mama's done saving the world for tonight."
The apartment was a small chaos of everyday life: a laundry basket teetered near the sofa, half-filled with clothes waiting for tomorrow; a teapot sat cooling on the counter; Mr. Fluff's scratching post leaned slightly frayed against the wall. It was ordinary, imperfect, and utterly familiar. Xiuyue moved slowly, rinsing her cup and humming a half-forgotten tune. She loved these small, unspectacular rituals—they reminded her that some things remained untouched by Aurora Network, untouched even by the pull of curiosity.
She paused by the window, gazing at the city lights. A neighbor's soft music floated across the alley, and she imagined their lives quietly intertwined with hers, separate yet parallel. Somewhere below, a cat prowled, eyes catching the neon glint of a sign. Mr. Fluff twitched his ears at the sound, but remained blissfully indifferent.
A stack of books teetered on the edge of the coffee table. Xiuyue nudged them upright, scanning the titles: parenting guides, cookbooks, and a few heavy tomes on quantum computing she'd never quite finished. She flipped a cookbook open absentmindedly; the smell of soy milk mingled with the faint scent of jasmine tea from earlier.
Her phone buzzed faintly on the counter. She ignored it. No screens, no alerts, no reminders that the world beyond these walls moved at a breakneck pace. She tucked a blanket around her legs, letting the soft warmth settle like a cocoon.
Mr. Fluff stretched, rolling onto his back to bat at a stray feather from a toy overlooked during the livestream. Xiuyue laughed softly, scratching behind his ears. "You're the only one who really gets me, huh, buddy?" The cat purred, a low, vibrating reminder that some connections didn't need words, didn't need Aurora Network.
Her thoughts drifted, inevitably, to Theodore. Not the billions in the archive, not the intricacies of the counterbalance mechanism. Just… him, as a person she had briefly glimpsed through the same system that recorded every keystroke of her life. Could anyone truly know another, not even with all the data in the world?
She rose and moved toward the small balcony. The night air was cool, carrying the scent of rain from earlier. Xiuyue leaned on the railing, imagining stories for the people she saw—where they had been, where they were going, what little wonders or disasters their lives might hold. The city felt infinite and intimate, a network of lives that mirrored the system she had spent the last two hours exploring.
Back inside, she returned to her chair and picked up a notebook. Blank pages waited. Xiuyue scribbled a few notes: observations from the livestream, ideas for tomorrow, reflections on balance and curiosity. The pen scratched against paper, grounding her thoughts in the analog world, away from screens and instantaneous swaps.
A small alarm chimed quietly on her phone, reminding her of tomorrow's schedule. Xiuyue sighed, stretching her arms. The city hummed below; her flat glowed softly with neon and lamplight. Mr. Fluff, sensing the hour, curled up beside her daughter, forming a tiny, furry barrier of comfort.
Xiuyue glanced at them both, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "Well," she whispered, "I guess we're all learning new things tonight… aren't we, buddy?" Her voice was light, but beneath it lay the awareness that tomorrow—and the next livestream—would bring more questions, more curiosity, more small ripples across Aurora Network she could not predict.
For now, the flat was quiet. No notifications, no parity exchanges, no counterbalance mechanisms humming. Just her, her daughter, Mr. Fluff, and the soft city hum outside. The human curiosity that powered Aurora Network could wait until morning. Tonight, it was enough to exist, to breathe, to sip soy milk and watch the city glow.
The night pressed on, gentle and unremarkable—a soft interlude before the next wave of data, the next flicker of curiosity, the next glimpse into a life once only legend.