Chapter 212: Suppression with a Wave of the Hand
Alt Cunningham's attack was like an endless, surging tide.
In the perception layer of cyberspace, the torrent of data composed of pure malice and the will to destroy climbed constantly with a momentum that transcended conventional laws of physics, finally raising a monstrous data tsunami.
Wave after wave, this tsunami crashed with destructive force, continuously pounding against the seemingly thin but actually impregnable firewall on the perimeter of the Badlands manufactorum.
BOOM—!
A silent explosion resonated across the data dimension.
Murphy could "see" the chaotic and violent crimson data stream representing the attack. Like an endless wave, it crashed ceaselessly against the absolutely smooth, infinitely extending transparent barrier.
Every impact stirred violent energy ripples on the surface of the barrier, but failed to leave any substantive damage.
Behind the barrier, the data space of the Badlands manufactorum remained palpitatingly stable, as if the storm outside was merely insignificant background noise.
This absolute defense shocked the observing Spider Murphy to her core.
She had personally attempted to breach this barrier and knew its unfathomable depth. But witnessing Alt's full-force efforts prove futile from a bystander's perspective made her feel the terror of the technology Joric controlled even more intuitively.
This could no longer be described as "sturdy"; it was closer to a negation on the level of rules—negating all unauthorized intrusion.
Beside her, the consciousness projections of Lucy, Sasha, and Kiwi had almost lost the ability to think.
Their faces were pale, their virtual avatars appearing somewhat scattered and unstable.
They had experienced cyber-warfare, seen the dangers of corporate ICE, and even touched the edge of the Blackwall, but when had they ever seen such a massive, violent collision of data?
The information payload and destructive energy contained in each impact far exceeded their understanding of "hacking." This was more like a natural disaster, a level of power beyond their imagination.
Before such mighty force, the skills they took pride in were as insignificant as dust.
Alt seemed to realize the ineffectiveness of conventional means as well.
The violent attack stopped abruptly. The data space fell into a brief, suffocating silence, like the calm before a storm.
Just as Alt's continuous offensive was thwarted, a signal distinct from her cold will pierced the Blackwall and intervened in the battlefield. This signal carried a certain rigid sense of order, as if following established behavioral protocols.
Data streams converged outside the firewall, rapidly shaping into an image that left Lucy and the others dumbstruck—a sleek silver starship with a saucer-shaped primary hull and twin nacelles, clearly marked with the registry "NCC-1701" on the hull.
It was the famous USS Enterprise from the old-era sci-fi series Star Trek.
Spider Murphy, familiar with the Old Net era, recognized the origin of this rogue AI at a glance. Its core consciousness formed during the early Net era, and due to long-term exposure to Star Trek data, it chose this starship as the carrier for its self-image.
In the days when the Old Net still existed, it used this image to "enforce the law" throughout cyberspace, cracking down on what it deemed illegal network activities, acting like a "vigilante" of the data space.
With the collapse of the Old Net, it gradually lost its enthusiasm for chivalry, retreating into its own data territory and only maintaining contact with a few "old friends." This time, it had come to assist at Alt's invitation.
"High-threat unknown defense system detected. Logic: Breach it." A voice sounding like synthesized electronic audio attempting to mimic a human captain's tone rang out on the data level, belonging to the "Enterprise" AI.
Without any superfluous communication, this massive data starship began to gather heart-palpitating energy brilliance at the front of its saucer hull, resembling the prelude to a particle cannon volley in sci-fi dramas.
In the next moment, a condensed, highly ordered torrent of destructive energy, mixed with a more focused, spike-like attack initiated again by Alt, bombarded the same point on the firewall simultaneously!
This impact far exceeded the previous ones.
The superimposition of two powerful forces with vastly different styles finally caused more violent ripples on the transparent barrier, and even a faint, low hum—like a structure under stress—could be heard.
Murphy's heart was in her throat. Lucy and the others retreated subconsciously, their virtual avatars nearly dissipating.
However, the firewall remained firm.
Like the deepest ocean trench withstanding the raging storms on the surface, it remained immovable.
All attack energy was efficiently dispersed, absorbed, and neutralized by it, failing to penetrate even a fraction.
At this very moment, Joric, who had been silently observing and recording all data, seemed to decide that enough data samples had been collected.
Inside the data space of the Badlands manufactorum, the image of a young man with black hair and black eyes quietly coalesced—the virtual projection chosen by Joric.
Facing the earth-shattering offensive outside, his expression was calm without a single ripple.
He made no complex movements, simply raising his right hand and pressing gently downward against the boiling data storm ahead.
There was no blinding light, no earth-shaking explosion.
The instant his palm pressed down, the terrifying attack maintained by the full efforts of Alt and the "Enterprise"—enough to annihilate any conventional cyberspace—calmed and dissipated in an instant, like water smoothed by an invisible giant hand. All waves, ripples, and raging tides subsided.
Dead silence instantly returned to the periphery of the data space.
The "Enterprise" starship, which had just exuded powerful pressure, had its massive virtual structure seemingly frozen instantly, solidified in space. Even the energy halos flowing around the hull stopped moving.
It tried to struggle, its engines bursting with stronger data streams, but like an insect trapped in amber, it couldn't move a fraction.
And Alt Cunningham's cold, massive consciousness core also felt an unprecedented, absolute restriction.
She felt as if she were firmly held down by invisible forces from all directions. All data activities were forcibly constrained within an extremely small range, and connection with the outside world was thoroughly severed.
For the first time, she experienced power being so absolutely suppressed on the pure data level.
Joric's virtual image remained calm. He "looked" at the forcibly pinned Alt Cunningham and the "Enterprise" AI, like a researcher examining two unique specimens successfully secured on the experiment table.
"Had enough fun?" he spoke flatly, his voice echoing clearly in the silent data space. "Now, we can talk."
His tone held no threat, no anger, only a calmness based on unquestionable control and absolute power.
This calmness was more oppressive than any roar.
(End of Chapter)