Icy raindrops plummeted from the leaden sky, hitting the exposed metal monument with a dull, insistent patter, as if the entire world were weeping. The air was filled with the fishy smell of soaked earth and the indescribable scent of corroded metal. Every breath carried a heavy, damp chill that penetrated deep into my lungs. I stood at the front of the crowd, the rain running down my hair and forehead, forming icy streams that flowed down my collar, seeping through the lining of my combat uniform and clinging to my skin. The chill pierced my bones, yet strangely, it could not penetrate the deeper numbness that enveloped my heart.
The "Data Heart" pulsated deep within my chest. Once a delicate organ the recipient of the implant was proud of, it now felt like an engine forced into a freezer. Each contraction and expansion carried a strained, frozen heaviness. Each pumping was no longer a sizzling energy, but a cold, almost stagnant fluid. It mimicked the form of a human heart, yet stripped of its warmth and throbbing. Everything within my vision: the blurred outlines of the solemn crowd ahead, the hem of the priest's black robe fluttering in the wind and rain, and the newly erected, untouched metal tombstone—deeply engraved with "Ethan Kyle—Fearless Pioneer, Eternal Guardian of the Code"—seemed like a thick, rain-scoured layer of frosted glass, distorted, distant, and devoid of any sense of reality.
"...He transformed his life into the final firewall to protect his companions." The pastor's low and solemn voice was fragmented by the wind and rain, and it drilled into my eardrums intermittently. "His courage, his wisdom, and his sacrifice will be forever engraved on the cornerstone of the 'Deep Diver'..."
Sacrifice. The word, like a poisoned ice spike, pierced the numb shell, bringing with it a sharp, suffocating phantom pain. I instinctively clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. That tiny sting became the only clear reality I could perceive. The horrific breakout from the Hive core a few days ago flashed back in fragments through my frozen mind: a blinding torrent of energy ripping through the darkness, piercing alarms mingled with the roar of collapsing structures, Ethan's voice piercing the cacophony—"Take the data! Go!"—followed by his relentless charge toward the hub, completely consumed by the raging energy... All that remained was the forcibly cut, heart-stoppingly short busy tone on the communication channel.
The Deep Diver had lost its sharpest "eyes" and its strongest "shield." And I, a body driven by cold data, supposedly free of useless emotion, felt the simulated heart within my chest grasped and crushed by an invisible giant hand, then frozen in the cold current into a hard, throbbing mass of ice that continuously released pain. The torrent of data, at that moment, spiraled out of control. The raging information fragments, like detonated stardust, clashed frantically within the depths of my consciousness, threatening to tear apart every logical unit that comprised my being. I could only grit my teeth, tasting the salty, fishy taste of rainwater and rust between my lips and teeth. It took all my willpower to maintain the surface of my body. I couldn't fall. The time Ethan had bought with his life wasn't for me to collapse here. The silent figures behind me, those shoulders trembling slightly in the wind and rain, they too bore the weight of this loss, yet they chose to stand.
"...May he find eternal peace on the other side of data." The pastor's voice finally fell and was swallowed up by a more violent sound of wind and rain.
A moment of silence. The crowd bowed their heads, like a dark forest crouching in a storm. Only the rain continued tirelessly to pound the metal surface, emitting a monotonous and mournful echo, as if playing a final requiem for those who sleep in the dead on our behalf, unable to weep.
The crowd began to move slowly and heavily, like a thawing glacier, with a profound sense of stagnation. Familiar and half-familiar faces passed me through the blur of rain, their gazes as complex as tangled data lines—a deep, almost overflowing sadness, a heavy, almost tangible exhaustion, a sense of uncertainty about the future. Even beneath those glances, I could clearly detect a faint, yet incredibly sharp, scrutiny and doubt. Those glances silently questioned: Is this leader, possessed of a "data mind," supposedly perfectly rational, this man forced out of his life by Ethan at the last moment, truly trustworthy? Can he truly lead the wounded "Deep Diver" out of this quagmire of despair?
"Boss..." A hoarse, nasal voice rang out beside me. It was Raven, the network infiltration specialist. He wiped the rain and other things from his face, his eyes red as two pieces of burning coals. "The 'nest'... has been cleaned up. Ethan's personal terminal... and some of his personal belongings..." He paused, his throat rolling violently, as if the rest of his words were blocked by immense grief. He could only hand me a small, angular package wrapped in waterproof cloth.
The cold package felt heavy in his hand, like a piece of iron freshly dug from the frozen earth. His fingertips touched its hard edge through the damp, cold waterproof cloth, and an indescribable electric current suddenly shot up his spine, reaching the core of his consciousness frozen by the data, causing his numb "data heart" to twitch spasmodically.
"Thank you." My voice was as dry as sandpaper scraping against metal, unfamiliar even to me. I didn't even have the courage to look at Raven's expression. I simply clutched the package tightly to my chest, as if it were my only source of warmth. Icy rain trickled down the edges of the package, soaking the front of my shirt.
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