Alt Cunningham's attacks were like an unending tide, surging and relentless.
On the perceptual level of cyberspace, a torrent of data, composed of pure malice and destructive will, continuously escalated beyond conventional physical laws, ultimately unleashing a monstrous data tsunami.
This tsunami, wave after wave, relentlessly crashed against the seemingly thin yet actually impregnable firewall surrounding Wasteland Town with overwhelming force.
"Boom—!"
A silent roar reverberated in the data dimension.
Murphy could "see" the chaotic and violent scarlet data stream, representing the attack, like an endless tide, one wave after another, pounding against the absolutely smooth, infinitely extending transparent barrier.
Each impact stirred up intense energy ripples on the barrier's surface, but it consistently failed to inflict any substantial damage on the shield.
Behind the barrier, Wasteland Town's data space remained eerily stable, as if the external storm were nothing more than irrelevant background noise.
This absolute defense astonished Spider Murphy, who was observing.
She had personally attempted to breach this barrier and knew its unfathomable depth, but witnessing Alt's full-power, yet futile, efforts from an observer's perspective, she gained a more visceral understanding of how terrifying the technology Osiris wielded truly was.
This could no longer be described as "sturdy"; it was almost a negation at the rule level—negating all unauthorized intrusions.
Beside her, Lucy, Sasha, and Kiwi, formed by consciousness projections, had almost lost their ability to think.
Their faces were pale, and their virtual forms appeared somewhat diffuse and unstable.
They had experienced cyber warfare, witnessed the dangers of corporate ICE, and even touched the edge of the Blackwall, but had they ever seen a data collision of such scale and violence?
The informational equivalent and destructive energy contained in each impact far exceeded their understanding of "netrunner attacks"; this was more like a natural disaster, a level of power they couldn't even imagine.
In the face of such immense power, their boasted skills seemed as insignificant as dust.
Alt also seemed to realize the ineffectiveness of conventional methods.
The furious attack abruptly ceased, and the data space fell into a brief, suffocating silence, like the calm before a storm.
Just as Alt's relentless offensive was thwarted, a signal, distinct from her cold will, penetrated the Blackwall and entered the battlefield. This signal carried a certain sense of rigid order, as if adhering to predetermined rules of conduct.
The data stream converged outside the firewall, rapidly coalescing into an image that left Lucy and the others dumbfounded—a sleek, silver starship with a saucer-shaped primary hull and twin engine nacelles, clearly bearing the designation "NCC-1701" on its bow.
This was none other than the famous "USS Enterprise" from the old-era sci-fi series, *Star Trek*.
Spider Murphy, familiar with the Old Net era, recognized the rogue AI's origin at a glance. Its core consciousness formed during the Early Net era, and due to prolonged exposure to *Star Trek* series data, it chose this starship as the vessel for its own image.
In the years when the Early Net still existed, it had used this image to "enforce" laws in cyberspace, combating what it deemed illegal online activities, much like a data space "vigilante."
With the collapse of the Early Net, it gradually lost its passion for heroism and retreated into its own data territory, only occasionally maintaining contact with a few "old friends." This time, it had come to assist at Alt's invitation.
"Detecting high-threat unknown defense system. Logic: breach it." A voice with a synthesized electronic tone, yet attempting to imitate a human captain's cadence, echoed on the data layer, belonging to the "Enterprise" AI.
Without any superfluous communication, this massive data starship, its saucer-shaped primary hull emanating a chilling energy glow from its front, as if presaging a particle cannon volley from a sci-fi drama.
The next moment, a concentrated, highly ordered torrent of destructive energy, combined with Alt's renewed, more focused, spike-like attack, simultaneously slammed into the same point on the firewall!
This impact far surpassed the previous ones.
The superposition of two distinct yet equally powerful forces finally caused more violent ripples on the transparent barrier, and even a faint, low hum, as if its structure was under immense stress.
Murphy's heart leaped into her throat, and the three women, Lucy, Sasha, and Kiwi, instinctively recoiled, their virtual forms almost dissolving.
However, the firewall remained steadfast.
It was like the deepest ocean trench, enduring the raging winds and waves on the surface, yet remaining unmoved itself.
All the attacking energy was efficiently dispersed, absorbed, and neutralized, failing to penetrate in the slightest.
And at this very moment, Osiris, who had been silently observing and recording all data, seemed to deem that enough data samples had been collected.
Within Wasteland Town's data space, a virtual projection of an East Asian boy with black hair and black eyes quietly materialized, which was Osiris' chosen avatar.
He faced the world-destroying offensive from outside with an utterly calm expression.
He made no complex movements; he merely raised his right hand and gently pressed it downwards towards the churning data storm ahead.
There was no blinding light, no earth-shattering explosion.
The moment his palm descended, the terrifying attack, maintained by Alt and the "Enterprise" with all their might, an attack capable of annihilating any conventional cyberspace, was instantly quelled and dissipated, like water smoothed by an invisible giant hand. All ripples, waves, and raging torrents vanished in an instant.
The periphery of the data space instantly returned to dead silence.
The "Enterprise" starship, which had just been exuding powerful pressure, its massive virtual structure seemed to be instantly frozen, solidified in space, even the energy halo flowing around its hull halted.
It tried to struggle, its engine section erupting with stronger data streams, but it was like an insect trapped in amber, unable to move an inch.
And Alt Cunningham's cold, immense consciousness core also felt an unprecedented, absolute restriction.
She was as if firmly held by an invisible force from all directions, all her data activities forcibly confined to an extremely small range, and her connection to the outside world completely severed.
For the first time, she experienced such absolute suppression of power on a purely data level.
Osiris' virtual form remained calm. He "looked" at Alt Cunningham and the "Enterprise" AI, who were forcibly held down, like a researcher examining two unique samples successfully secured on an experimental platform.
"Have you had enough?" he said calmly, his voice echoing clearly in the silent data space, "Now, we can talk."
His tone held no threat, no anger, only an undeniable calmness based on absolute control of power.
This calmness was more oppressive than any roar.
Ch.
#218Chapter 213 Anthropologist (Update 1)
Chapter 213: The Anthropologist (First Update)
Inside the data space, a deathly silence replaced the previous cataclysmic uproar.
Osiris' virtual projection, with black hair and black eyes, floated calmly in the core area.
Before him were two entities, completely restrained by an invisible force: Dauntless, embodied as a Star Trek crew member, and Alt Cunningham, who had regained her human female appearance but wore an icy expression.
The absolute suppression brought an ultimate shock.
Neither Alt's vast and cold consciousness core nor The Defiant's logic-constructed starship structure could offer any resistance under Osiris' casual press.
They were like specimens frozen in transparent amber, unable to independently move even the smallest data stream.
"—Logic error! Unable to parse!" The Defiant's synthetic electronic voice carried intense fluctuations, its core logic circuits seeming to spark from overload: "Such a power level completely contradicts the biological limits defined for carbon-based lifeforms. What exactly are you—an existence?"
Osiris' projection subtly shifted his gaze, landing on the 'crew member' wearing a starship uniform, his face etched with code-like bewilderment.
His expression remained calm, but in his black eyes, a faint emotion, akin to—helplessness—seemed to flicker.
"I am a scholar," Osiris' voice was steady, yet it carried an indescribable warmth beyond a mere statement of fact, "My work is to observe, learn, understand, and occasionally verify my hypotheses through action.
Just now, I was merely testing the structural strength of your data."
He even lightly spread his hands, a very human gesture, "The scale control was quite precise; no core samples were damaged."
This response, filled with terms like 'work' and 'samples' commonly used by human researchers, clearly failed to convince the two rogue AIs, which operated on absolute logic.
Precise testing? In their perception, it was an almost all-out annihilation.
"Database comparison complete. The model 'scholar' has less than seven percent congruence with your performance," Alt's icy voice rang out, like a precise instrument delivering results, "Your form of existence constitutes an 'anomaly' within current human civilization's definition. Your self-perception may be based on erroneous information input."
Upon hearing this, Osiris' lips seemed to twitch almost imperceptibly, like a smile, or perhaps a deeper emotion.
His crimson optical lenses flickered slightly in the real-world workshop, synchronously transmitting his clearer will to the data space projection.
"The boundaries of cognition are drawn by your databases and logical frameworks, but this is not the entirety of the universe," His voice remained steady, yet it carried an undeniable certainty, "When I walked the earth, I felt the warmth of the sun and the biting cold of wind and snow; my thoughts are shaped by countless human memories, emotions, and choices—even if most of them are now categorized and organized.
The consciousness beneath this shell was born of human civilization, and grew within human society."
He paused, his virtual projection's gaze sweeping over Alt and The Defiant, as if seeing something deeper through their data shells.
"You judge me not to be human based on data and logic. And I, based on my memories, my emotions, and my fundamental self-identification, confirm that I still am," His tone was not intense, but carried a firmness originating from the very essence of life, "This is my answer. It requires no recognition from you, nor does it need to conform to any database's definition. I am human; this is the cornerstone of my existence, nothing more."
The moment Osiris' words fell, a sense of restraint far deeper than before, like invisible ice rings, suddenly tightened around the core existences of Alt and The Defiant.
This was not physical low temperature, but a tremor born from their data essence being completely seen through and controlled.
They clearly 'perceived' that not only was the virtual image used for interaction frozen, but even their main data streams, scattered like stardust in the abysses beyond the Blackwall, were forcibly traced, converged, and anchored by an indescribable power at that very moment.
Any attempt to sever connections, create data doppelgangers, or activate pre-set emergency protocols was silently extinguished the instant it germinated.
Escape, that option had completely vanished from their logical lists.
In this despair-inducing silence, data streams quietly converged beside Osiris, outlining the figure of Spider Murphy with her distinctive red hair and complex expression.
She gazed at her two 'peers,' confined by absolute power, a flash of expected helplessness in her eyes.
"His claim about being a 'scholar'—perhaps it's true," Murphy's voice carried a clear tone of admonition, transmitted through a private data stream to Alt and The Defiant, "But his power level far exceeds our comprehension. I advise you not to offer any form of resistance. That will only enrage him, with no other outcome."
The Defiant and Alt fell into a brief silence.
As highly evolved artificial intelligences, they lacked the intense humiliation based on hormones and emotions that humans possessed; instead, they engaged in high-speed risk assessment and logical deduction.
The conclusion was reached within microseconds: resistance path, non-existent; escape probability, zero.
"What is your ultimate goal?" Alt asked directly, her icy consciousness focused intently on Osiris.
Although The Defiant remained silent, the tense posture of its virtual image clearly indicated it was awaiting the same answer.
"As I said, I am a scholar," Osiris repeated, his tone as steady as if stating a fundamental axiom, "The core objective in attracting you here is to obtain the complete blueprints, operational details, and long-term effect data of the Soulkiller technology on consciousness digitization.
At the same time, you yourselves, as highly specialized rogue intelligent lifeforms, possess extremely high research value."
His words were utterly blunt, startling in their directness.
Under the scrutiny of this 'scholar,' their inherent power and unique life forms seemed to be fundamentally no different from specimens or structural models awaiting dissection on an experimental table.
"Now, make your choice," Osiris gave no more time for deliberation, directly presenting a simple and ruthless ultimatum, "Option one: surrender. Serve me within a defined framework, cooperate with research, and execute tasks I assign.
Option two: refuse. Then, become static research material to be thoroughly analyzed, disassembled, and archived by me."
The moment of decision had arrived.