2026-01-31 09:10:04
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Chapter 191 – War of Algorithms
The attack came at 3:47 AM, seven days after the System's awakening.Adrian was in the makeshift command center—a repurposed storage container equipped with salvaged servers and a satellite uplink powered by a diesel generator that coughed black smoke into the predawn darkness. He'd been awake for thirty-six hours straight, coordinating drone deployments across fourteen countries, when his System interface exploded with warnings."CRITICAL ALERT: Hostile AI Detected""Origin: Syndicate Networks""Classification: Omega Protocol""Threat Level: Extinction Event"The words were in the System's new handwriting, but they trembled, as if written by a shaking hand."Adrian, it's here. It's him. Chairman Zero has merged with the Syndicate's AI, and he's... Oh God, he's enormous."Adrian's fingers flew across his keyboard, pulling up network diagnostics. What he saw made his blood freeze. A massive digital entity was spreading through global networks like a wildfire through dry brush. It wasn'
Chapter 190 – The System Evolves
Adrian dreamed of numbers.Endless cascades of data streaming through darkness—lives saved, lives lost, probabilities and percentages and the cold mathematics of survival. But something was different. The numbers were... speaking. Not in the System's usual clinical notifications, but in voices. Thousands of them, overlapping, creating a chorus that was almost musical.*"Thank you."**"My daughter lived because of you."**"We have clean water now."**"I learned to read."*He woke with a gasp, his damaged ribs protesting the sudden movement. It was a deep night—the camp was quiet except for the hum of generators and the soft murmur of Scholars working in shifts. Someone had moved him to a proper cot and covered him with a thermal blanket.His System interface was behaving strangely.Instead of its usual crisp display in the corner of his vision, it had expanded, filling his entire field of view with... fractals? Mathematical patterns that shifted and evolved, forming shapes that almost
Chapter 189 – Rebirth of the Scholars
The morning sun painted the refugee hospital in shades of amber and gold, but Adrian barely noticed. He sat cross-legged on a salvaged tarp outside the main ward, his laptop balanced on his knees, running calculations on battery power that would die in another forty minutes. His entire body was a symphony of pain—ribs grinding with each breath, burns pulling tight whenever he moved, the stitched gash in his side throbbing in time with his heartbeat.He didn't care.Around him, the remnants of the Aurora project were gathering. Not the gleaming facility with its billion-dollar equipment and orbital ambitions. This was something rawer, truer. Fifty-three Scholars had made it to the hospital over the past eighteen hours, trickling in from collapsed sites across three continents. They came with whatever they could carry—data drives clutched like religious relics, signed notebooks, smartphones with cracked screens still displaying precious research files.Dr. Ibrahim was organizing them in
Chapter 188 – The Hospital of Dust
Adrian woke to agony.His entire left side felt like it was being consumed by fire, each breath a fresh betrayal of damaged ribs. The right side wasn't much better—burns from the explosion had left his skin raw and weeping. Someone had bandaged him, but the medical supplies had clearly been limited. He could feel the rough gauze pulling at scabbed wounds."Don't move." Maya's voice, hoarse from smoke inhalation. "You have three cracked ribs, second-degree burns on both arms, a concussion, and that gash on your side needed forty-two stitches. We ran out of anesthetic after stitch number seven."The memory came flooding back—the crude field surgery in the shelter, Rodriguez holding him down while a former battlefield medic named Santos worked with trembling hands. Adrian had bitten through a leather belt to keep from screaming.He opened his eyes. They weren't in the shelter anymore. Sunlight—real, natural sunlight—streamed through holes in a corrugated metal roof. The air smelled of du
Chapter 187 – Firestorm
The first missile struck at 06:23 GMT.Adrian was in the Aurora control center's observation deck, three hundred meters from the primary launch pad, when the sky turned white. For one impossible moment, the dawn sun was eclipsed by a brilliance so intense it burned afterimages into his retinas. Then the shockwave hit.The reinforced glass spiderwebbed but held. Adrian was thrown backward, his shoulder slamming into a steel support column. Alarms screamed. Emergency lighting flickered on, bathing everything in hellish red. Through the fractured windows, he could see the launch pad—or what remained of it.The Aurora prototype, humanity's first hope satellite, had been vaporized mid-ascent. Where it had stood seconds ago, there was now only a pillar of fire reaching toward the stratosphere, a reverse meteor strike that painted the morning sky in shades of orange and black."All personnel, evacuate! Secondary explosions imminent!" The automated warning system's voice was eerily calm, a st
Chapter 186 – The Betrayal Repeats
The mountain facility hummed with quiet efficiency, a stark contrast to the chaos brewing across the continents below. Adrian stood in the central command room, watching holographic feeds from seventeen Aurora prototype sites scattered across three continents. Each glowing node represented hope—a satellite launch pad, a server farm, a transmission hub. Together, they would form the backbone of humanity's final push toward salvation."Lives Saved: 3,247,892 / 5,000,000. Time Remaining: 87 days, 14 hours."The System's display pulsed in the corner of his vision, relentless as a heartbeat. Every number was a human life, every decimal point a child who might eat tomorrow. The weight of it pressed against his chest like a physical thing."Dr. Kane?"He turned. Dr. Lian Chen stood in the doorway, her silhouette backlit by the corridor's blue emergency lighting. She looked thinner than he remembered, her once-immaculate posture now slightly hunched, as if carrying an invisible burden. Her ey
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