Scene Title: "Hack the Base"
Setting: Late afternoon to nightfall — campus bench → downtown gaming arcade
[Scene — Late Afternoon, Campus Courtyard — 3:47 PM, Thursday afternoon]
The cold's starting to settle in. A dull silver sky hangs over the campus, and students huddle in groups, complaining about exams, winter uniforms, and life in general. Breath fogs the air; laughter drifts like smoke.
The bell didn't mean freedom — not yet.
It meant "fifteen minutes until the next mental beating."
Students poured out of the lecture hall like a slow, irritated tide — some clutching textbooks, others their iced coffees like lifelines.
Yè Yī sits on a wooden bench beneath a leafless tree — earbuds in, a thick novel open across his lap. The kind of guy who looks like he belongs in grayscale while everyone else lives in color. No hurry, no friends, no sound. Just that faint hum of city air as he tucked his notes
A gust of wind flicks the edge of his page. He doesn't even blink.
Then—
A familiar crunch of chips. She plops down beside him uninvited, still chewing. The bag crinkles like thunder in the silence.
> Yè Yī: "...You again."
Violet: "You say that like I'm a bad omen."
Yè Yī: "I didn't say that."
Violet: "But you thought it."
> Violet (smirking, mouth half-full): "You seriously read this kind of stuff for fun?"
Yè Yī glances up, one brow raised.
> Yè Yī: "It's called a book. Try it sometime."
Violet: "Mhm." She says with a nod.
He frowned. She smiled wider.
> Violet: "Don't look so tense, I'm not stalking you."
> Yè Yī: "You're supposed to be… not here."
Violet: "Yeah, well, the universe didn't get the memo."
Yè Yī: "You're drawing attention."
Violet (half-smirk): "That's kinda my thing."
She leans back, staring up at the pale sky. For a second, she looks like she belongs there — like the chaos in her orbit has paused.
Across the courtyard, Qiū Huà Bǐ stands near the vending machines, hands shoved deep into his hoodie pockets. Headphones on, volume up — loud enough that the rhythm can be felt through the concrete. He's half-hidden by the machine, eyes scanning the crowd like he's not really there.
But then—he spots them.
Yè Yī and Violet.
The cold guy and the weirdo girl who's suddenly everywhere.
He frowns slightly. That static again — the silence.
Usually, when he looks at people, he hears something. Voices under voices, thoughts slipping through the noise like half-tuned radio channels.
But with those two? Nothing.
Just a flat line.
Void.
> Qiū Huà Bǐ (internal): "It's like… static's gone.
Dead air.
Why them?"
His hand twitches, fingers brushing the side of his headphones — a habit.
Then the school bell rings, echoing across the courtyard.
Students scatter.
VIOLET:
(absently, eyes half-lidded)
"You ever think this place feels too loud for how dead everyone is inside?"
YÈ YĪ: (doesn't look up)
His tone was cool, precise—each word shaped like it had been planned
"People talk to stay alive.".
VIOLET:
"Mm. No—people talk so they don't hear themselves die."
(she smirks, tossing a chip)
"But I'm not trying to be poetic, promise."
Yè Yī finally glances up. There's that unreadable calm in his eyes—quiet thunder. He closes the book with a precise snap.
YÈ YĪ:
"You sound like a failed philosopher."
VIOLET:
(grins)
"Or a bored hacker."
YÈ YĪ:
(flat)
"Same thing."
"Maybe silence says too much."
VIOLET: (a faint smirk)
"Exactly. That's why I talk only when I need to. Like now."
Violet tosses her empty chip bag in the bin with dramatic flair.
> Violet: "Bullseye. I should've joined the basketball team."
Yè Yī (deadpan): "You'd scare them all off."
Violet: "You say that like it's a bad thing."
He shuts his book, staring at her — the faintest crease in his brow.
> Yè Yī: "Why do you keep showing up?"
Violet (shrugging): "Because you look like you need a chaos manager."
Yè Yī: "You mean a nuisance."
Violet (gives a relieved smile): "Semantics."
She rose, brushing the crumbs off her hoodie, eyes catching the distant clock tower.
Violet:
"Come on, I found something fun."
Yè Yī: (finally closing his book)
"Define 'fun'."
Violet:
"Hacking a base."
He blinked.
> Yè Yī: "A what?"
Violet : "A base. You know — like, 'surprise visit,' 'mystery drop-in,' or 'friendly ambush.' Depends on how poetic you want it." (perks a brow)
Yè Yī: "That's not… reassuring."
Violet: "Relax. It's not crime if no one catches us. Just consider it a 'field trip', with no actual field"
(mutters, thinking to herself)
"Unless thinking literally".
He sighed.
> Yè Yī: "And this involves me how?"
Violet: "Because the guy we're visiting? He's one of us."
That stopped him.
Her tone had changed — playful, but threaded with quiet weight.
> Violet (softly): "You'll understand soon."
She started walking toward the gates.
Yè Yī hesitated — then followed. Something about her presence had that gravitational pull — equal parts chaos and truth.
> Yè Yī: "You talk like you've seen everything already."
Violet (half-turning, smirking): "I have. Over and over. History's just reruns with better lighting."
They start walking. The courtyard grows emptier, quieter.
Qiū Huà Bǐ watches them go, the faintest glimmer of curiosity flickering through his usually blank expression.
> Qiū Huà Bǐ (internal): "Why can't I hear them? …Who are they?".
A soft wind drifts through the trees — winter's first breath.
The world feels still, like something's waiting and there's the quiet between their minds which isn't silence at all.
It's connection.
Unformed. Hidden.
Waiting to detonate.
---
Meanwhile, about a 72.3 km away
››Host 2 » ....Target in sight.
.... Should we launch?
››Host 1.4 » ... Wait.