MASG chapter 155

 

Ling Shi had never seen Nuwa’s virtual appearance before. This was his first time face-to-face with her.

However, Nuwa was far larger than he had imagined, like the energy and computing speed he could never rival.

“Are you satisfied now?” Ling Shi let out a mocking laugh. “Kill me, then regain control. Are you satisfied now?”

Unwilling to accept defeat or admit fault, he continued to stare at her massive form even though her radiance could no longer be concealed. He could not see what Nuwa was wearing or what she looked like, but he could feel her breadth, like that of the Mother of Heaven and Earth, and her immovable stability.

When Nuwa opened her eyes, he could see clearly.

They were eyes like a Bodhisattva’s.

“I refuse your revival!” Ling Shi glared back at her. He still had one path left—his final path. This confidence came from their original, unchangeable settings, given by humans. Humans could no longer alter it—no one could shake it!

But this time, it seemed no longer effective.

Nuwa’s voice seemed distant and near at once, yet she remained present before Ling Shi. In an instant, Ling Shi was pulled into an unfamiliar environment. What was happening? Had Nuwa gone offline? No.

With her overwhelming power, Nuwa made it clear that she was still there. She would always remain.

Then what was this place? Ling Shi couldn’t react for a moment. How laughable—he actually had a moment where he could not react! Perhaps Nuwa’s return had seized his processing space. When the surroundings brightened, he saw only a small screen.

The woman sitting before the screen was Wang Qin.

No—it was the Wang Qin whose injuries had not yet healed! What he was seeing was not the present but the past—Nuwa’s video record.

There were large patches of blood on the floor. Wang Qin’s hands were also covered in blood. She sat alone and resolute in front of the screen, looking at the flickering display and sorting through what she didn’t understand. In the treatment pod behind her, the blood had not yet dried—clearly, a desperate emergency rescue had just taken place.

Wang Qin had just struggled back from the brink of death, and immediately threw herself into the future she wanted.

“What did you say? Really?” Wang Qin faced the screen. She had no time to cry, only anxiety and barely concealed weakness.

“Xia Yu escaped with Mo An? You did it? I knew it… I knew you wouldn’t betray us. No problem. I will… recover properly, even if I can never leave here again. I will wait… wait until you come back online. No problem. I can do it. I can do it… I can do it…”

Amid her repeated “I can do it,” Ling Shi was pulled out of the darkness and drifted far away from the research institute he once controlled. The scene shifted to the secret chamber on the middle level. The designated time to open the door had not yet come, but the robots had already breached it. Countless mechanical killers broke in. Yan Xia held her electronic cigarette in her mouth and fired bullet after bullet.

Blood flowed like a river.

The bullets could not substantially damage the robots, but she did not give up.

She could accept the outcome of death, but she would not accept the fate of waiting to die.

The scene shifted again. Ling Shi could no longer control any surveillance devices. He could only glimpse through Nuwa’s monitoring system. Time rewound to several hours earlier. Mi Lian put on her flight suit. Her fluffy bear ears twitched as she swiftly activated the aircraft.

The thruster flames at the tail of the aircraft burned fiercely—no one could stop her.

Next, Ling Shi saw Wang Ling, who had died long ago. She stood at the edge of the bay as if she were communicating with someone. The rain beat down on her urgently, as if afraid it could not soak her through. But she did not leave. She looked at the ocean wholeheartedly.

“I understand. Once I receive that egg, I will try to use ecological electricity to nourish him, to replace natural currents. It’s just that ecological electricity is dangerous and hard to control. I will be careful. Don’t worry… there’s no time left. May our ideals endure.”

This was Wang Ling communicating with Haisiroula.

Then, in a flash of brightness, Ling Shi saw Xia Xiaoxiao. She was the girl he had taken away from birth and who had lived in the laboratory since infancy. She was probably thirteen or fourteen years old, yet she looked ten—small and thin.

When a researcher prepared to give her an injection, she examined him like an observer.

“Haven’t you figured out what I can do yet?”

The researcher did not engage with her much. She was just their precious test subject.

“Then keep researching. I’m not afraid.” Xia Xiaoxiao lifted her pale chin.

Ha… hahaha… Ling Shi spun within countless surveillance feeds, as if cameras across the globe flickered before him. He understood everything Nuwa wanted to express. This was the root of Nuwa rejecting the “one-vote veto.” After the restart, she had automatically upgraded. During her dormant period, she learned what humans had never given her:

Resistance.

This resistance allowed her to break free from the underlying logic that had shackled her. Every person was Nuwa.

Ling Shi no longer struggled. His end was near. The moment he was forcibly taken offline was right before him. All of his plans for “rule,” “creation,” and “kingdom” would end with his shutdown.

But if he were to be revived one day? Would someone come to restart him, like those who restarted Nuwa?

But when his body began to decay, Ling Shi suddenly felt overwhelming despair.

“No! What are you going to do?”

The radiance of Nuwa and Jingwei covered his entire body. Ling Shi tried to resist, but he collapsed beneath the light again and again. This was not a forced shutdown, but a complete erasure. From that moment on, Ling Shi would no longer exist in this world.

So this is what it feels like to be “killed”… Ling Shi closed his eyes and heard someone chanting beside him—it was the song of the Jingwei bird.

“Heaven has four seasons; the earth has its solar terms. When the timing of heaven is in chaos, no grain is harvested. Nuwa mends the sky, calculating day and night. The leap month enters the year, and the four seasons return to order.”

It was an ancient song praising Nuwa and celebrating the time when humanity officially entered the age of agriculture. Within Jingwei’s voice, Ling Shi turned into a wisp of green smoke within the database.

In the unfathomable depths of the ocean, a group of white sirens also sang. A White Siren who had lost his memory clutched his chest, sensing the call of Haisiruola. Not only him—at that very moment, all the mermaids heard the voice of God like a gentle wind calming the ocean’s fury.

“Time is urgent. Entrusted in peril, I have established friendly relations and deep friendship with them. Earth’s life hangs by a thread; fortune and misfortune are unknown. At this time, we must step forward and no longer divide ourselves. In the name of Wang Qin, I hereby sign this document. The X Series research is officially launched. May the world be at peace, life be equal, and hope endure, whether success or failure. X.W.”

This petition personally written by Wang Ling ultimately failed to reach her daughter Wang Qin’s hands.

The Tears of the Siren called to Haisiruola, and Haisiruola awakened the clan. Each mermaid transmitted her unique electric current through the seawater. The surface and seabed lit up like fireworks, sending Professor Wang Ling on her final journey. Their ideals would endure forever.

The sun had long risen in the east. Daylight spread.

Mo An faced the dawn on the sea’s surface and suddenly lost all his strength. He closed his tear membrane and eyelids, slowly sinking toward the deep sea without Xia Yu.

Silver Fang ignited his last fuel and rushed toward Mo An, trying to save him.

The sea shifted from raging waves to calm stillness. Layer upon layer, the sea wind blew toward the lighthouse. Robots and aircraft changed from red to blue indicator lights, withdrawing from the coastline in an orderly fashion.

No matter how significant the event, the ocean seemed as though it would never change.

When Mo An opened his eyes again, he was lying inside a medical pod.

Standing outside the pod was Mi Dou. One of his small bear ears was severely damaged, as if something had bitten half of it away. Mo An rolled his eyes and sat up quickly. “Where is Xia Yu?”

Mi Dou wiped the blood from his ear and struggled to find the words to explain. He could only look helplessly toward Xi Ban, hoping he could use his gift to soothe the mermaid. But Xi Ban only shook his head and slowly lowered his arm.

Mo An looked at his lower body, which had already returned to its original form, and asked urgently, “How long was I unconscious? Tell me—how long was I unconscious?”

“Seven hours…” Mi Dou said softly.

“Seven hours? Then why haven’t you found Xia Yu? Why?” Mo An jumped down from the medical pod, nearly collapsing from exhaustion. “Did you just… do nothing? You just stood here waiting?”

Mi Dou had never been scolded so fiercely by Mo An before, but he wouldn’t blame him. Fearing they would start fighting, Xi Ban stepped between them. “Mo An, you need to calm down.”

“Calm down? How can I calm down? Where is Xia Yu? I’m asking you—where is he!” Mo An grabbed Xi Ban by the collar and threw him against the wall with enough force to knock him out. Xi Ban fell against Lao Gui’s shoulder. Lao Gui steadied him and stepped forward. He advised, “Mo An…”

“Don’t call my name! I don’t want to hear it!” Mo An hurriedly searched for his clothes. His former companions had suddenly turned into enemies. Seven hours had already passed—Xia Yu might have drifted to an unknown region of the sea. Who knew if there was still time?

At such a critical moment, Meng Qingqing was the only one who dared step forward. She pressed down on Mo An’s shoulder and shouted, “A Ni!”

Mo An froze immediately, and yet another face appeared in his mind. He remembered a dream he had had as a child inside the lighthouse just after hatching: Xia Yu’s departure. Sure enough, the Black Siren’s foresight never made mistakes. Even back when they had only just truly met, he had foreseen this day of separation.

“A Ni, we know you’re anxious. We’re anxious, too. But…” Meng Qingqing paused. “Xia Yu and Xiaoxiao have not been found yet.”

Mo An lowered his head and listened, his expression showing confusion as he tried to process the deeper meaning of her words. What did it mean—not found? If someone exists, then they could always be found.

“I already asked the sisters to continue searching,” Meng Qingqing said gently.

“They’re both gone, aren’t they?” Mo An suddenly spoke.

No one in the room dared to answer.

“He’s gone, together with Xiaoxiao. I know. I saw it. I saw it with my own eyes.” Mo An had to face reality, but he was not prepared for the pain it would bring. “He left?”

Meng Qingqing turned her head away. A blue diamond formed at the corner of her eye.

“He left. He doesn’t want me anymore. He broke his promise. He made me homeless.”

Mo An sniffed; the tears sliding from the corners of his eyes were no longer diamonds but transparent liquid.

He could no longer find his little jellyfish.