58: Evelyn's betrayal and the transmission of the "antidote"

In the private study of Morpheus Li at the top of the Prophet Foundation skyscraper, the air was as cold as a tomb frozen for a millennium, so heavy it felt like it could crush one's ribs.

The expensive climate control system maintained the temperature and humidity to the first decimal point, yet it brought no vitality, only a meticulously controlled, sterile silence.

Thick, dark sound-absorbing material that could swallow all noise wrapped the four walls, isolating this place from the outside world and creating an absolute domain that belonged solely to Morpheus Li.

Evelyn Li stood with her head bowed before that desk, which was so huge it was almost absurd, carved from a single piece of African ebony.

Her body trembled slightly, unable to be suppressed.

This trembling did not stem from a habitual fear of her father's authority, but from a rage that had been suppressed to the extreme and was about to burst forth, as well as a... cold, bone-chilling, burning-the-bridges determination.

On the holographic screen floating before her, it clearly displayed the top-secret medical evaluation summary regarding Excellence—who was in critical condition with a near-collapsed nervous system—which she had risked everything to obtain through a special channel she had secretly cultivated for years at great cost.

There were no pictures on it, only lines of cold, cruelly objective medical terminology and shocking data streams: "Target's vital signs are extremely unstable, with multiple instances of near cardiac arrest... Spontaneous respiration has ceased, fully dependent on ECMO for oxygenation... EEG shows burst-suppression patterns on a diffuse slow-wave background, indicating severe global brain failure... Brainstem reflexes are weak and intermittent... Unknown high-activity information particles detected, continuously interfering with cellular electrical activity; neurotransmitter levels are disordered, metabolic activity in the hippocampus and prefrontal cortex is nearly stagnant, with a high risk of irreversible organic damage... Prognosis is extremely poor, survival probability is less than 15%, and even if survival is achieved, the probability of severe cognitive impairment or a persistent vegetative state exceeds 90%..."

Every character, every percentage, was like a dagger dipped in deadly poison, cold and bone-chilling, repeatedly and cruelly slashing at her heart, leaving her barely able to breathe.

She had finally seen it with her own eyes, confirmed with her own eyes the true face and cruel consequences of the plan her father grandiosely called the "pandora shadow"!

It was not some so-called "guidance" and "test" at all; it was a premeditated, utterly inhumane murder!

Directed at a defenseless genius, one merely obsessed with exploring the boundaries of knowledge, directed at a young life that might possess an infinite future and be enough to illuminate an era!

Morpheus Li sat like an emperor behind the wide, ergonomic yet cold desk that resembled a judgment seat.

His fingertips tapped the mirror-smooth surface with a rhythmic, almost silent yet heart-palpitating sound.

His well-maintained face, which betrayed no actual age, was devoid of any expression.

His deep eyes were like two frozen ancient wells, reflecting the shocking data on the light screen, yet he remained unperturbed, as if the young life struggling on the edge of hell on the screen, ready to be extinguished at any moment, was merely a trivial experimental subject exhibiting an expected, perhaps even record-worthy, rejection data point.

"It seems that the soil of this era in which the 'seed' has taken root is... more barren and fragile than our initial models predicted," he finally spoke lightly.

His voice was steady and waveless, his tone carrying even a trace of imperceptible, researcher-like disappointment and pickiness.

"It cannot even withstand the most basic, highly diluted and disguised 'pandora' information fragments. The compatibility test has failed completely, instead triggering a total collapse and rejection reaction of the host's own system. Such... quality and potential do not seem worthy of us investing more attention resources and correction costs. It is a pity."

This understated "It is a pity," as if evaluating a substandard artifact, was like the last straw weighing a thousand pounds, crashing down and crushing the tottering awe, obedience, and the last shred of self-deception Evelyn held for her father's supreme authority.

She raised her head abruptly, her light gray eyes burning with an unprecedented, almost crazy flame—a flame called truth, called anger, called trampled conscience.

For the first time, she no longer dodged, meeting head-on Morpheus Li's bottomless eyes, which lacked any human emotional temperature and seemed capable of swallowing all light.

"Father!"

Her voice became sharp and trembling due to extreme agitation and anger, even carrying a hint of broken sobbing, yet it was full of unquestionable, bloody accusations.

"This is not 'a pity'! This is not some failed compatibility test! This is murder! It is a slaughter! It is you! It is you who used the taboo knowledge heritage left by my mother, which even we ourselves cannot fully understand or control! It is you who used those damned, abyss-born, highly toxic 'pandora' fragments to lure and poison a... a person who could potentially change the direction of the future! You know better than anyone the fate of those early volunteers in the 'pandora' core project! You have seen with your own eyes how they lost consciousness in endless pain and became empty vessels! Why did you do this to him?! Why?!"

Morpheus Li's gaze suddenly became incomparably cold and sharp, like a dormant king cobra instantly locking onto its prey, radiating a terrifying pressure that could almost freeze the air.

"Evelyn Li," his voice dropped abruptly, every word hammering into Evelyn like an ice pick, carrying unquestionable authority and a cold warning.

"Mind your identity and your words. Mind where you are standing right now and who you are talking to. What you are questioning and desecrating is the collective will of The Foundation's highest Council, it is the calculated risk and necessary cost that must be borne for the great ultimate goal of the 'ascension path'! In the face of the grand blueprint of civilization's overall leap, individual sacrifice, no matter how much potential it seems to have, is a negligible, acceptable statistic!"

"Civilization's leap? 'ascension path'?"

Evelyn laughed miserably, tears finally uncontrollable as they burst forth, sliding down her pale cheeks and dripping onto the expensive carpet.

"By plundering, deceiving, and then destroying another possible, better, healthier civilization possibility?! Father, tell me, is what you are truly pursuing really that ethereal, grand illusion of the 'ascension' of collective consciousness that you speak of, or... or is it just satisfying your personal, infinite desire for absolute power, for playing God, for controlling the fate of all living things?! How much is left of that initial dream you and my mother had, that dream of exploring the unknown and benefiting civilization?!"

"Insolent!!"

Morpheus Li slammed his hand on the desk, the thunderous sound exploding within the well-insulated study.

A powerful aura, mixed with rage and absolute authority, erupted instantly, making the air in the entire space seem to solidify into steel, so heavy it was suffocating!

"Get out! Immediately! Go back to your room, calm down, and think clearly about your position! Think clearly about whose daughter you are, and whose will flows in your blood! Otherwise..."

His voice lowered, filled with undisguised, hair-raising threats, "I do not mind using the Chairman's authority to let you experience the 'purification' process of the 'pandora' project, the one used to deal with unstable factors, firsthand! I think that will make you understand very quickly what is called... absolute obedience!"

Evelyn's face turned instantly pale and transparent, devoid of any blood, her body swaying violently.

She grabbed the corner of the desk with her slender fingers to keep from collapsing.

She knew too well what the threat in her father's words meant.

That so-called "purification" was a process a thousand times more terrifying than physical death: a process where consciousness was thoroughly cleansed, formatted, shattered, and reassembled, eventually losing all self and becoming a blank vessel of absolute obedience—a total annihilation of consciousness in the true sense.

But at this moment, the deep concern and guilt for Excellence's fate, the immense fear of her father's increasingly paranoid and crazy plans, and the glimmer deep in her heart that had been repeatedly scorched by her mother's legacy and her own conscience, yet had not been completely extinguished, overcame everything!

She bit her lower lip hard until she tasted the clear, rusty metallic tang of blood, supporting herself with a kind of desperate, life-burning courage so she did not fall or retreat.

She did not speak again; any words seemed pale and powerless at this moment.

She only used those eyes, brimming with tears, filled with utter disappointment, pain, and a kind of nirvana-like determination, to take one last look at this strange father figure, as if to carve him into the deepest part of her soul.

Then, she turned abruptly, stumbling yet moving with unusual firmness, and rushed out of this suffocating study.

The heavy solid wood door closed heavily behind her with a dull thud, like a tomb sealing shut.

Back in her own room—which was equally luxurious yet as cold and empty as a high-end hotel showroom—Evelyn locked the door behind her.

Leaning against the cold door panel, she slid down onto the soft yet temperatureless carpet as if her whole body had been drained of strength.

She buried her face deeply in her knees, her shoulders trembling violently, and wept silently.

Tears quickly soaked the expensive fabric, but she felt nothing, as if only through this thorough catharsis could she expel the grief, fear, and guilt that were threatening to tear her heart apart.

She cried for who knows how long, until her tears were nearly dry and her throat ached.

Only then did she raise her head abruptly, wiping the tear stains from her face with the back of her hand, the movement even somewhat rough.

Her light gray eyes, though still red and swollen, had shed all confusion and fragility, becoming unusually calm, clear, and... a kind of paranoid determination.

She could not!

She absolutely could not watch as Excellence, this genius with infinite possibilities whom she had indirectly harmed, was completely destroyed by her father's cold-blooded plan, becoming just another cold, pathetic statistic!

She had to do something!

Even if this action was insignificant, even if this hope was as faint as a candle in the wind, even if it required her to pay an unimaginable price!

She walked quickly to a corner of the room, her fingers tracing a specific pattern on a metal relief on the wall that appeared to be decorative.

A gap, almost invisible to the naked eye, slid open quietly, revealing an extremely thin, specially-made private terminal inside.

This was a communication Node she had secretly built using her authority and her own technology, which had never been activated and was independent of The Foundation's main network.

She took a deep breath, her fingertips dancing rapidly across the activated virtual keyboard, which glowed with a faint blue light, moving so fast they almost left afterimages.

She was writing a multi-layered encrypted information package that combined asymmetric quantum encryption, one-time pad principles, and a dynamic hash algorithm she had created herself.

Every command, every code block, condensed her highest technical ability and her most resolute mood.

The content of the information package was not the complete core data of the "pandora" project (that was too dangerous, and she couldn't fully crack its encryption level; forcing it would inevitably trigger the highest alert), but rather—based on her own superior memory, partial core authority of the project, and the scattered notes left by her mother—it was the carefully refined and reconstructed "signature code" of the most core and characteristic attack pattern of that invading information body, as well as... several special resonant frequency algorithm fragments and energy field construction parameters that were accidentally discovered during a highly dangerous accident in the early research within The Foundation, which might have an "inhibitory," "interfering," or even local "neutralizing" effect on this specific information structure!

This was equivalent to an incomplete, unverified "antidote" or "interference code" blueprint targeting the "neural information virus" that was raging inside Excellence!

She did not know if this incomplete information, pieced together from theoretical deductions and scattered experimental data, could really penetrate the layers of firewalls of the National Special Bureau, whether it could be received, and even less did she know if it could really have the slightest positive effect on Excellence's complex and critical condition.

This was tantamount to a desperate gamble; the stakes were her future, and even her life.

But she had to try!

This was the only insignificant yet necessary redemption she could perform!

It was a defense of her mother's legacy, and a final account to her own conscience!

After finishing the compilation, she embedded the information package into a carrier disguised as ordinary network junk data, with random noise padding and self-mutating headers.

She set a very short lifespan (once the time limit was exceeded without being received and decrypted by a specific key, it would automatically trigger a multi-layer overwrite self-destruct) and a mandatory instruction to burn immediately after a single read.

Then, she took a deep breath and entered an IP address sequence—which she had obtained through that secret channel at great effort—belonging to a highly confidential, one-way discrete receiving Node within the National Special Bureau used for receiving special intelligence in extreme situations...

Her fingertips hovered over the virtual send key that represented the final decision, trembling uncontrollably.

Cold sweat rolled down from her temples.

Once pressed, it meant a complete betrayal and break from the absolute loyalty she had always held toward her father, the superficial identification with The Foundation's philosophy, and all the responsibilities and obligations she had as an heir to the "Li" name...

If discovered, what awaited her would not just be death, but something even more terrifying than what Excellence was currently experiencing—a true, irreversible doom.

She closed her eyes, and before them flashed Excellence's fleeting, slightly nervous yet purely focused gaze at the seminar, his brilliant and vibrant vision in his technical report, and the beautiful aspirations for the future and concerns about technological ethics in her mother's diary...

"I'm sorry, Mother... I'm sorry, Father... But I have to do this."

She muttered to herself, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible, yet carrying a determination that severed everything.

Her fingertips pressed down abruptly!

Like a ghost given a mission, the data packet detached silently from the terminal, merging into the vast, churning ocean of network data, following unpredictable routing paths, quietly flowing toward that unknown shore where hope and danger coexisted...

After doing all this, Evelyn felt as if all her strength and soul had been instantly drained.

Her whole body went limp on the cold seat, her face pale as paper, cold sweat completely soaking her back, her fingers freezing cold without a trace of warmth.

She did not know if this dangerous gift could be successfully received, and even less did she know what consequences it would ultimately bring—whether it would be a faint hope, a catalyst for accelerated destruction, or... bring about her own doom.

She simply, in the endless, suffocating darkness, relied on a glimmer of conscience and courage that had not yet been extinguished to cast a faint yet incredibly dangerous... spark of hope.