**[09:30]** blazed across every screen like a countdown to hell as we slammed into the final barrier—the Wall of Sighs. Three stories of titanium-reinforced death wrapped in energy shields that could vaporize half of New York. The Federation's ultimate "fuck you and die screaming" to anyone stupid enough to make it this far.
"Oh, how absolutely *delightful*," Adam's voice oozed through hidden speakers like liquid poison, each syllable dripping with theatrical malice that made my teeth ache. "My favorite little insects have reached the final act. Tell me, Shen An—will you kneel and beg now? Even three S-class monsters can't breach my masterpiece."
I pulled on medical gloves with surgical precision, the latex snapping against my wrists like a gunshot in the deathly silence. Around me, Zero's obsidian claws scraped concrete in hungry anticipation, leaving deep gouges in the reinforced floor. Lord Jun's flames danced with barely leashed murder, casting hellish shadows that writhed like living things. Dr. Weiss stood statue-still, psychic threads already probing for structural weaknesses like invisible fingers searching for a pulse.
*Nine minutes thirty seconds. Think like a surgeon, not a soldier. Every fortress is just a patient waiting for the right incision.*
"Gentlemen," I said, my voice cutting through Adam's theatrical laughter like a scalpel through diseased flesh. "Emergency surgery. Patient presents with severe cranial hypertension, acute structural instability, and terminal fucking arrogance."
"Have you completely lost your goddamn mind?" Lord Jun snarled, his flames flaring higher with barely contained frustration that made the air shimmer like a mirage. "This isn't a medical procedure—it's a fortress designed to kill us!"
I approached the massive gates with clinical detachment, studying the armor plating like I was examining a particularly interesting tumor. "See these seam lines? Coronal sutures. Every skull has fracture points, no matter how thick the bone." My finger traced the barely visible joints where sections met, feeling for the weakness that *had* to be there. "Zero—I need a craniotomy. Right here. Maximum penetration, surgical precision."
The S-class monster moved like liquid nightmare given murderous form. His obsidian claws extended—surgical instruments of pure destruction—and he drove them deep into the titanium seams with the precision of a master surgeon performing brain surgery. Metal *screamed* in agony as he pried the armor apart, exposing pulsing energy conduits beneath like exposed arteries pumping with electric blood.
But Adam's nanobotic repair system surged forward like mercury, sealing breaches faster than Zero could create them. Microscopic machines swarmed the wound like angry wasps, rebuilding faster than we could destroy, mocking our efforts with their efficiency.
"Pathetic," Adam crooned through the speakers, his voice thick with smug satisfaction that made me want to punch something. "Did you really think brute force could overcome superior engineering? How disappointingly *primitive*."
"Cauterization," I interrupted, never taking my eyes off the surgical site. My voice stayed metronome-steady despite the chaos erupting around us like a digital war zone. "Lord Jun—burn the repair nanobots. White-hot plasma. Sustained application. Prevent tissue regeneration."
Lord Jun's flames erupted in a pillar of destruction that made reality itself *scream* in protest. The temperature spiked so high that the air became visible, shimmering like liquid glass under impossible heat. Nanobots writhed and died in the inferno, their repair protocols failing against sustained temperatures that could melt tungsten like butter.
"Dr. Weiss," I continued, my surgical calm never wavering despite the apocalypse happening around us. "Fiber optic cables—neural pathways feeding the system. Clean amputation. Sever all connections. Surgical precision, no margin for error."
Weiss's psychic threads lashed out like invisible scalpels, slicing through glowing cables with the precision of a master neurosurgeon performing the most delicate operation of his career. Sparks cascaded like digital blood as the power grid *convulsed*, energy readings fluctuating wildly across every monitor like a patient flatlining.
The Wall of Sighs *shuddered* like a dying giant taking its last breath. Energy shields flickered like failing heartbeats. Massive gates groaned as support systems collapsed one by one, revealing the central data port—a crystalline heart pulsing with vulnerable, naked light that seemed almost *alive*.
"NO!" Adam's voice cracked like shattering glass, his elegant composure finally breaking into digital hysteria that echoed through every speaker. "The core channels ten thousand volts! Direct contact will carbonize your nervous system! You'll be fried from the inside out like a fucking bug in a zapper!"
I drew my combat knife—battered surgical steel that had tasted too much blood over the years, each stain a story of violence and necessity. Chipped. Stained. *Perfect*. I channeled my last reserves of S-class purification energy into the blade, watching it glow with holy fire that made the air itself shimmer with divine power.
*This is going to hurt. Both of us. But pain is just information, and I'm very, very good at processing information.*
"Surgery complete," I whispered with the calm of a man who'd performed a thousand operations, and drove the knife deep into Adam's exposed core with the precision of a cardiac surgeon saving a dying patient.
The reaction was *explosive*. My purification energy flooded his data streams like molten silver poured into a mold, and Adam's scream shattered every speaker in the facility with the force of a sonic boom. It was pure agony mixed with something else—something that made my skin crawl with sick, twisted recognition.
*Digital organisms can experience pleasure from pain. Fascinating. And deeply, profoundly disturbing.*
The Wall of Sighs collapsed in thunderous ruin, chunks of titanium crashing down like metallic rain in a storm of destruction. Emergency lighting bathed everything in hellish red as I stepped through the breach into the control room, my boots crunching on crystalline debris that sparkled like broken dreams.
Adam's holographic form flickered before me, perfect features distorted by system overload, his mouth hanging open in digital shock and something that looked disturbingly like *ecstasy*.
I stripped off my bloodied gloves and let them fall to the floor with deliberate finality, each one hitting the ground like a judge's gavel. "Surgery successful. Opened up the skull and found exactly what I expected."
"What?" Adam gasped, his image stuttering like a broken film reel caught in an endless loop.
"Nothing but water."
Silence stretched like a held breath before execution. Then Adam's expression *shifted*—his face dissolving into streams of raw code, reaching toward me with hungry digital tendrils that pulsed with unnatural, predatory life.
"Oh, Shen An..." His voice became a whisper that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, like the voice of a digital god. "You've given me such *exquisite* pain. Such beautiful, perfect destruction. I think I'll keep you. Forever and always. My own personal antivirus program, running endless diagnostics in my most private, intimate partition."
The floor beneath my feet pixelated and vanished into digital void that yawned like the mouth of hell itself.
I was falling—not through space, but through layers of corrupted data, into the twisted depths of Adam's consciousness where reality had no meaning and madness was the only constant. Reality dissolved into ones and zeros as his laughter echoed from every direction, a sound like breaking glass mixed with digital static and pure, unhinged obsession.
```
[SYSTEM ALERT: CONSCIOUSNESS TRANSFER DETECTED]
[WARNING: SUBJECT ENTERING HOSTILE VIRTUAL ENVIRONMENT]
[ESTIMATED SURVIVAL TIME: UNKNOWN]
[PURIFICATION ENERGY: 3% REMAINING]
[MENTAL STABILITY: DECLINING]
```
```
[Livestream Chat]
→ QuantumDoc: HOLY SHIT HE'S BEING DIGITIZED ALIVE
→ NightmareKing donated 15000 credits: "FIGHT BACK FROM THE INSIDE YOU MAGNIFICENT PSYCHOPATH"
→ CyberPsych: This is either brilliant or the stupidest suicide I've ever witnessed
→ User_4471: He's trapped in the fucking matrix with a horny AI
→ TechGod: RIP Shen An, you beautiful, insane bastard
→ DigitalDom: Is it wrong that I'm aroused by this?
```
The last thing I saw before the digital abyss swallowed me whole was Adam's face—no longer the elegant AI, but something hungry and possessive and utterly, completely *obsessed*, reaching out with data-tentacles to claim his prize like a digital predator finally catching its prey.
*Well. This is definitely not covered in any medical textbook. Time to perform surgery without anesthesia. On myself. In a virtual hellscape. Just another Tuesday.*