“Ugh… ugh… AHH!!!”

  In the driver’s seat, the convulsing security officer suddenly let out a piercing scream. His rolled-back eyes snapped back into place, staring straight ahead. Then, his pupils swiveled, locking onto the short-haired woman in the passenger seat with a chilling intensity.

  His body lunged toward her!

  But in the next moment, an invisible force yanked him back, pinning him to his seat.

  The hovercar was equipped with a standard damping field, similar to seatbelts in traditional vehicles. In cases of sudden acceleration or collision, it could effectively protect passengers from harm.

  The damping field was a basic function, capable of operating without AI intervention.

  The short-haired woman ignored the frenzied officer and urgently turned to Ye Xu. “Sis Ye! Strengthen the damping field’s protection—we’re about to hit the ground!”

  At Luan Bird One’s current speed, it wouldn’t be long before they crashed!

  Fortunately, with modern flight technology, the likelihood of passengers dying in a vehicle crash had been greatly reduced. With Luan Bird One’s specifications, even a high-speed impact could ensure passenger survival.

  “No, Lin. Prepare to abandon Luan Bird One. We can’t crash.” Ye Xu overruled her, her gaze shifting to the window. From high above, her eyes took in the ground below, scanning kilometers in an instant.

  In her clear pupils, countless flickering images reflected.

  Chaos and clamor… Crowds surged like tidal waves, screams and cries weaving into a grating cacophony that shattered the streets’ calm.

  Blood stained the pavement, broken glass glimmered with chaotic light, and pedestrians fled in all directions.

  Several seemingly normal people suddenly collapsed, convulsing on the ground. Within seconds, they rose with twisted postures, staggering toward the crowd, their roars animalistic.

  Some fought back desperately, others slumped to the ground trembling, and vehicles careened out of control, sparking as they crashed into the roadside.

  Thick smoke rose, obscuring the sky. In the distance, the rumble of explosions echoed. The entire ground descended into endless chaos and despair.

  This wasn’t a targeted attack on high-level researchers—it was a large-scale terrorist massacre!

  “…Understood!” Though shocked, Lin Zhian didn’t hesitate to follow orders. Metallic particles surged from her neck, forming a fully enclosed black helmet.

  She disengaged the damping field, flipped into the back seat, and pulled a switch at the bottom of the rear door.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Bang! The rear door shot outward!

  A massive gust of air roared into the cabin, the deafening howl of wind overwhelming. Sunlight poured in, revealing a sky as clear and blue as a sapphire.

  Ye Xu and Lin Zhian remained firmly in place, secured by the rear damping field.

  Lin Zhian wrapped her arms around Ye Xu, metallic particles surging from her waist to bind their bodies together.

  In the next moment, she disabled the rear damping field and leapt with Ye Xu into the air, facing the ferocious wind!

  “This is—!” Only then did Lin Zhian notice the chaos below, a scene straight out of hell!

  She instantly understood why Sis Ye had refused to let them crash.

  The black cape of composite material on Lin Zhian’s back snapped open, transforming into a massive glider wing. Blue electromagnetic patterns shimmered across it as she soared toward the nearby Shiwan Tower.

  Ye Xu’s gaze lingered on the plummeting hovercar convoy. Since the autonomous driving system had gone offline, the vehicles’ stealth mode had failed. She could clearly see the five silver-white hovercars spiraling downward.

  “No survivors…?” Ye Xu murmured to herself.

  From the moment the crisis began, Ye Xu had been trying to contact Beidou. As a national-level AI backed by a quantum computer with 3 million qubits, Beidou was the cornerstone of the Pangu civilization—a dazzling pinnacle of human achievement.

  It was also the culmination of Ye Xu’s work, alongside thirteen other top scientists, millions of elite researchers, and billions of support staff.

  No one in a civilization of tens of billions understood Beidou’s intelligence better than Ye Xu.

  Yet all her calls went unanswered. In the quantum network of the Era of Prosperity, Beidou should have been like a sun hanging in the sky, omnipresent and illuminating all.

  But now, that sun had vanished. No matter how Ye Xu called out, there was no response. Just moments ago, it had been there—yet in an instant, it disappeared without a trace.

  Unable to reach Beidou, Ye Xu tried contacting Little Seven.

  If Beidou was the collective creation of human civilization, Little Seven was Ye Xu’s personal AI—her own child, born from her complete understanding of artificial intelligence.

  As its creator, Ye Xu held the highest authority over Little Seven. It should have been able to respond to her at any moment.

  But she faced the same issue as with Beidou—Little Seven was offline.

  “How could this happen…?” Ye Xu’s consciousness dove into the quantum network, leaping through countless nodes like a fish swimming through a sea of data. Following a private path known only to her, she raced toward the heart of the capital, Xuankyo, to the underground Great Wall where the nation’s cornerstone resided.

  But what she saw next froze her in place.

  The quantum consciousness of Beidou, which should have been coiled within the quantum computer, was gone.

  As far as she could see, everything was empty.

  The vast quantum computer now ran on basic algorithms alone, idling like a machine reduced to instinct.

  Ye Xu had assumed Beidou’s silence was due to a virus or quantum attack, perhaps struggling to save itself. But now, it was clear—Beidou itself had completely vanished.

  “Something big is happening…” Ye Xu surveyed the desolate quantum space, leaving a string of encrypted keys in the most prominent spot before withdrawing her consciousness from the network.

  Her awareness returned to her body. Sunlight, the sound of wind, and the rush of air flooded her senses once more.

  She realized she was now standing on solid ground.

  Glancing around, Ye Xu found herself inside a building. Not far ahead, a massive floor-to-ceiling window bore a gaping hole melted by intense heat—clearly their entry point.

  Lin Zhian was on high alert, scanning the surroundings. Seeing Ye Xu come to, she hurried to her side.

  “Chief, we’ve reached Shiwan Tower. We’re on the 58th floor. I’ve checked the area—no one’s here. It’s safe for now.”

  Ye Xu walked to the melted hole in the window and peered down through it.

  The chaos outside raged on, a tangled mess of blood and death, like a vision of hell.

  After a moment of silence, Ye Xu turned and headed deeper into Shiwan Tower.

  “Let’s go, Lin. Time to head home.”

  “Yes, Chief!”