245: Chapter 246 "The War of Sequences" [Clone City]: [Project Ascension] and the Truth About Native Humans

In the central control center at the top of the Clone Tower, crimson alarm lights continued to flash incessantly, and the piercing sound of the siren never ceased. The space, originally constructed of blue glass, flickered between light and shadow, illuminated by the chaotic scenes from the city surveillance holograms.

Ninety-nine Original Humans, dressed in pure white research robes, sat around a giant round table. Gazing at the Clone City, which had completely descended into disorder and chaos on the surveillance screens, the arrogance they once held due to their status as "Original Humans" had long vanished, leaving only the panic and despair brought about by the collapse of order.

In the center of the surveillance display, two images were specifically magnified several times over.

The image on the left showed the wide plaza in front of the Clone Tower, where over twenty Hosts, each possessing incredible Talent, had gathered. Their bodies surged with halos of terrifying energy in various colors and forms. The energy indices on the monitoring System had long since begun feeding back warnings of excessive energy to the Clone Tower the moment the Hosts started channeling their Talent, but each time, due to some small "accident," the feedback failed to go through. The rest of the plaza was occupied by 1,900 Clones wielding various low-level, useless toys. In their eyes, which should have been obedient and devoid of emotion, the flames of rebellion burned due to the Awakening of their self-awareness.

The image on the right showed the mechanical maintenance area. The "junkyard," which should have been piled with discarded mechanical creations, had long been submerged by Clones returning to the surface from the underground landfill pipes. Their uniform silver-gray work clothes formed an endless torrent. The Clones, who should have been controlled by monitoring chips and forced into hibernation, were still pouring out of the pipes continuously. Their synchronized footsteps, combined with their unimaginably massive numbers, made the entire Clone Tower, and even the entire Clone City, tremble slightly.

The gazes of all 99 Original Humans turned in unison toward the center of the room—the very middle of the round table.

Standing there was the leader of the Original Humans in Clone City, a middle-aged man with a cold expression. At this moment, there was not a trace of panic on his face; instead, it was replaced by a near-maniacal excitement. He held a blood-red paper book high in his hands. The cover, which resembled the dry, cracked skin of a human, glinted with an eerie red light under the crimson alarm lights. The mysterious patterns outlined in purple-black liquid on the cover seemed to sense something; they writhed and slithered across the book's cover like living creatures until they formed four large characters: corruption aberration》. Immediately afterward, blood slowly seeped from the cracked skin of the book's cover, dripping onto the round table.

"What are you panicking about!"

The Original Human leader's voice was not loud, yet it instantly drowned out the noise within the enclosed space. He turned slowly, his gaze sweeping over the 99 shivering Original Humans, a sickly smile appearing on his face. "The [top secret archives — Ascension Plan] we have been preparing for decades—isn't today the perfect moment to implement it? Whether it's the hundreds of thousands of Clones prepared in advance, or those newly arrived Original Humans with special abilities (referring to the 'Hosts' here), aren't they just the consumables and nutrients for us to implement our plan? Besides..." The middle-aged man scanned the 99 Original Humans standing around the round table, sneered disdainfully, and continued, "Besides, the current situation is the exact moment for you to manifest the value of your own existence!"

The 99 Original Humans, who had calmed down and regained their arrogant demeanor due to the middle-aged man's speech, inexplicably felt a chill run down their spines. Immediately after, they lost control of their bodies, with only their eyeballs able to move according to their own will. Panic spread rapidly, because they knew what technology caused this condition, yet they could not believe that their status as "Original Humans" might actually be nothing more than a meticulously woven lie.

The middle-aged man pursed his lips in disdain, his disgust evident: "I believe you have already realized that 'monitoring chips' were implanted in your brains long ago. And unlike those defective products outside, you are controlled by an independent monitoring chip System under the local area network of this Clone Tower. But I didn't expect that after decades, not a single person discovered they had been implanted with a monitoring chip... I must say, your IQ is an insult to my genes."

Looking at the "Original Humans" before the round table, whose eyeballs were trembling frantically, a sense of sickly excitement rose in the middle-aged man's heart: "That's right, you are also Clones. Although you have men and women, old and young among you, this is merely the result of me editing my own gene fragments. And the only purpose for which I created you—that is, the meaning of your existence—is not to manage the Clone City, nor is it to enjoy the so-called privileges of 'Original Humans.' I simply need you as sacrifices for my [Ascension Plan], to become the stepping stones for my Life Status leap!"

The middle-aged man held the blood-red book high once again. The patterns of the characters [corruption aberration] on the cover suddenly lit up with a purple-red glow, and his maniacal shouting echoed throughout the entire central control hall:

"Mechanical weakness, Flesh Ascension! Let these 'trash' who disrupt the order of the Clone City and mess up my [Ascension Plan] all become nourishment for my Life Status leap!" The moment his voice fell, the blood-red book in the middle-aged man's hand suddenly flipped open on its own.