The chaebol alliance collapsed overnight, and the downtown area finally saw the light of day.
Lu Cheneng discovered that the remaining chip in his brain was devouring his consciousness, splitting into another cold "self".
Wen Shifei discovered a data backup of his brother Wen Yuan's consciousness deep in the Pandora laboratory, but had to make a choice between destroying the matrix and saving his brother.
When the final battle came, Lu Cheneng had to choose between completely formatting himself and embracing the new world, and finally chose to wander into the wasteland with Wen Shifei.
Upon the ruins, their dawn truly breaks.
For the first time, the downtown air didn't taste of metal dust and the rust of despair.
The shadow of the chaebol alliance, which had obscured the sky, seemed to be violently ripped apart by an invisible giant hand, leaving vast expanses of empty, yet faintly luminous, sky. The massive holographic billboards that once symbolized absolute oppression, looping images of the chaebol giants' false smiles and extravagant lifestyles, were now mostly distorted, flickering specks of snowflake noise. The few remaining screens chaotically scrolled with various texts and crude image fragments—a torrent of information spontaneously uploaded by countless downtown residents after "Firefly" took over the city's main information network.
The Firefly Community Center, once a repressive refuge, has become a throbbing, seething nerve center. Crude, makeshift wiring creeps like vines across the walls, connecting rows of terminals with blinking lights. The air is filled with the smell of overheated components, the tang of instant nutritional supplements, and an indescribable mixture of excitement and anxiety. People in colorful work clothes, their faces bearing the marks of chronic malnutrition, huddled together, their eyes remarkably bright as they stare intently at the data streams and zoning maps scrolling across the screens.
"...The water supply pipeline pressure in North District 7 has been restored to 80%! I repeat, water supply to North District 7 has been restored!"
"Medical team reporting in! The temporary clinic in Area D-17 is at capacity! Disinfectants and basic antibiotics are urgently needed!"
"Energy Team! The cooling system of the old west reactor needs manual calibration! Anyone familiar with old thorium-based reactors? Meet at point B3 immediately!"
"Attention, Security Patrol! Remnants of the former Black Scorpion mercenaries are gathering in the abandoned Paradise Harbor entertainment district. They are armed and their intentions are unclear! Requesting backup!"
Instructions, reports, requests, coordinates... all sorts of sounds collided and overlapped in the not-so-spacious space, forming a cacophony of noise yet surprisingly vibrant. A vast holographic map of the city, composed of countless small screens, hung in the center. Green dots of light, representing the "Firefly" controlled area, stubbornly, piece by piece, encroached upon the red areas representing chaos and the gray areas representing the unknown. These green dots, faint yet persistent, lived up to their name.
Li Shuo stood before the map, his hands resting on the console, his knuckles slightly white from the strain. His face was visibly fatigued, his eye sockets sunken, but his back was straight. He was no longer the patient coordinator, but more like a sword, unsheathed and forcibly pinned in place, maintaining the precarious core of order. His voice, hoarse but carrying undeniable power, emanated from the speakers scattered throughout the area:
"Everyone, maintain the channel! Energy Team, prioritize clean water and medical care! Security Team, monitor the targets in 'Paradise Port'. Do not engage in fire unless necessary, and hold them back! Logistics, transfer the last batch of medical supplies in stock to Area D-17! I repeat, order! What we need is reconstruction under order, not new chaos!" He took a deep breath, his eyes sweeping across the faces, some young and some weathered. "We are 'Fireflies', not the next chaebol! Remember why we are fighting!"
In the corner, Dr. Qin's wrinkled fingers danced across the cracked keyboard. On the small screen before him, a complex neural signal pattern flickered and danced wildly like a chaotic nebula. A warning box popped up next to it, a glaring red warning: [Target's consciousness fluctuation exceeds threshold! Personality stability index continues to decline! Edge inhibition system failure!] Dr. Qin's brows were knitted into a knot, and beads of sweat oozed from his forehead.
"Chen Entropy..." He whispered to himself, his voice trembling slightly. "The residual activity of the chip... is more stubborn than expected. It's corroding in the opposite direction... We must find a more thorough solution to eliminate it..."
Lu Chensheng suddenly opened his eyes.
The familiar metal ceiling of his small lounge in the Firefly community was visible. It was cold, covered in tiny traces of rust and dried water stains. Sweat soaked through his thin clothes on his back, bringing a sticky chill.
There is no light.
The absolute darkness that had enveloped everything, as if freezing his very soul, vanished. But a different kind of cold, a deeper, more viscous kind, coiled like a venomous snake deep within his consciousness, slowly creeping. Every heartbeat was like a heavy drumbeat, pounding against a levee on the brink of collapse.
He sat up, his movements a little stiff. The room was quiet, save for the faint sound of voices from the community center in the distance, filtered by the walls. He raised his hand and, in the dim light filtering through the narrow window, looked at his palm.
The palm lines are clear, and the knuckles appear rough and strong due to long-term fighting and training.
But just now… in the abyss of his sinking consciousness, he saw those hands, covered by a cold, metallic "shell" emitting a faint blue sheen. Those hands did not belong to him. They were precise, steady, and merciless, like the most sophisticated killing machine. They easily tore through the darkness, pointing in a certain direction—the depths of Pandora's laboratory, with a desire that bordered on greed.
"The Matrix..." A cold, emotionless voice echoed deep in his mind, as clear as a whisper, "...must be...recovered...evolved..."
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