Light flooded everything like a tidal wave. Seven pairs of Qiyue's hands touched the sphere of light simultaneously, and in an instant, the world fell apart and reassembled. Qiyue felt his consciousness torn into seven pieces, each hurtling along a different timeline—
He saw himself become a financial tycoon, manipulating the market to trigger an economic crisis;
He was a hacker activist, paralyzing global network systems;
He was a special forces colonel, commanding a military operation that resulted in a million deaths;
He transformed into a serial killer, enjoying the thrill of the hunt;
He became a mad scientist, conducting taboo human experiments;
He was a neurosurgeon, implanting control chips into patients' brains;
And the original host... The original host stood in an empty laboratory and pressed the self-destruct button.
Seven lives, seven possibilities, each leading to disaster.
"This is why we are labeled a 'source of pollution,'" the original host's voice echoed in the light, "not because of any single one of us, but because Qiyue across all seven timelines will ultimately lead to destruction."
Qiyue—now unsure which Qiyue he actually was—struggled to understand: "So all seven consciousnesses must be destroyed?"
"No!" The Financier suddenly broke free from the sphere of light's attraction, "It's a scam! What they're afraid of isn't destruction, but the power we hold if we unite!"
The Criminal persona also sneered and retreated, "I never agreed to die."
The sphere of light began to pulse erratically, and the connections between the seven consciousnesses grew fragile. On the console, the countdown showed 5 minutes and 23 seconds remaining—the cleanup squad's bomb was about to detonate.
The voice of Su Muqing the AI came from all directions: "Refusing integration will cause the ritual to fail. The portal will go out of control, and a chain reaction will destroy all connected worlds."
"Then find another way!" the Soldier persona roared. "A soldier can make sacrifices, but it must have strategic value!"
Major Marcus lay on the ground, his electronic eye flashing with a manic light: "It's too late... You'll all die here... Along with the truth..."
Qiyue's primary consciousness drifted in the light, watching his six "selves" argue endlessly. The Financier advocated using the portal to gain more power; the Criminal wanted to escape outright; the Soldier insisted on finding a tactical solution; the Scientist and Doctor calmly analyzed the data; only the original host silently watched him, a certain expectation in his eyes.
"You knew this would happen all along, didn't you?" Qiyue asked the original host. "You knew not all of 'me' would be willing to make the sacrifice."
The original host nodded, "But I believe you'll make the right choice. After all, you are the most complete of us."
Complete? Qiyue gave a bitter laugh. He felt himself being pulled in seven directions, ready to tear apart at any moment. But the original host's words touched him—ever since crossing over, he really had been integrating the traits of the seven worlds: the Financier's strategic thinking, the Hacker's technical skills, the Soldier's tactics, the Criminal's intuition, the Scientist's analysis, the Doctor's empathy, and the original host's... the original host's what?
A memory suddenly flashed back—not an image, but a feeling. The original host's calm at the final moment, that determination to press forward knowing full well he would die. That wasn't recklessness, but a choice made after precise calculation.
"I understand." Qiyue's primary consciousness suddenly grew firm. "There's no need to destroy the seven consciousnesses... they just need to fully integrate."
"What do you mean?" The Scientist pushed up glasses that weren't there.
"The mistake of the Beacon Project was trying to create a 'perfect Prophet' while only wanting to keep the 'useful' parts." Qiyue looked around at his six selves, "But true power comes from accepting everything—including our dark side."
The Financier sneered, "Pretty words. But how do you guarantee that the worst one doesn't take control after the integration?"
"Because I will choose the original host as the core." Qiyue looked at his earliest self. "He is the only one who voluntarily sacrificed himself for the greater good."
A flash of surprise crossed the original host's eyes, immediately turning into understanding: "Integration requires the consent of all parts. Can you persuade them?"
The countdown displayed 4 minutes and 18 seconds. AI Su Muqing warned: "The bomb's payload is enough to destroy the entire underground facility. Even if the integration succeeds, the physical body will be destroyed."
"Then deal with the bomb first," the Soldier said immediately.
"There's no time!" The Criminal waved a hand impatiently. "Either we die together, or we escape right now!"
Qiyue took a deep breath—if he could still breathe at all. Seven voices argued in his mind, but strangely, he could hear every single viewpoint clearly. This wasn't chaos, it was a symphony, just missing a conductor.
"Listen to me," he raised his voice. "The Financier is right, blind sacrifice has no value; the Criminal is right, the survival instinct is nothing to be ashamed of; the Soldier is right, we need tactics; the Scientist and Doctor are right, we must understand the principles; and the original host..." He paused. "The original host proved that we have the ability to transcend ourselves."
The six "Qiyues" quieted down, looking at him in surprise.
"This is true integration," Qiyue continued. "Not eliminating differences, but integrating advantages. Not to become a weapon, but to stop a greater disaster."
The control room suddenly shook violently, dust falling from the ceiling. The cleanup squad had broken through the final defense line.
"Decide," the original host said softly. "We don't have much time."
The Financier was the first to walk toward Qiyue: "For the greater good." He placed a hand on Qiyue's shoulder.
Then came the Scientist and the Doctor: "For knowledge." "For life."
The Soldier saluted: "For our mission."
The Criminal hesitated the longest, finally breaking into a grin: "Damn it, you drive a hard bargain." He slapped Qiyue heavily on the back. "But I'm leaving a backdoor."
Finally, the original host, who directly embraced Qiyue: "For the Su Muqing of all worlds."
The light surged violently. The seven consciousnesses converged into the sea like rivers, merging into one within Qiyue's body. The world suddenly became incomparably clear in his eyes—not fragments of foresight, but a holographic view of all possibilities simultaneously.
He saw every single part of the bomb, every member of the cleanup squad, and every steel reinforcement beam of the building. More importantly, he saw the quantum structure of the portal—it wasn't just a gateway, but a shared vulnerability across all seven worlds.
"Su Muqing," the integrated Qiyue spoke, his voice carrying a sevenfold echo, "show me where the real Su Muqing is."
The image of AI Su Muqing flickered, and then she pulled up a set of surveillance footage: a pale, emaciated woman imprisoned in a white room, her face similar to the AI version, but her gaze much sharper. The footage was labeled "Stellar Headquarters - B13 Floor - Anomaly Detention Area."
"She's still alive..." The original host's memories surged within Qiyue, "I've searched for her for three years..."
"Bomb countdown: 3 minutes, 07 seconds," the AI reminded him calmly.
Qiyue—now the complete Qiyue—turned to the central sphere of light. In his omniscient state, he saw a solution the original host had missed: there was no need to sacrifice the seven consciousnesses. They only needed to create a perfect quantum entangled state at the core of the portal to temporarily seal it without destroying it.
"The Criminal is right," he smiled, "we need a backdoor."
His fingers danced across the console, moving so fast they left afterimages. The Financier's strategic thinking, the Hacker's skills, and the Scientist's knowledge coordinated seamlessly. He reprogrammed the core of the portal, setting up a sealing protocol that could only be triggered by a sevenfold integrated consciousness.
"Sealing sequence initiated," the AI announced. "Sevenfold authentication required."
Qiyue placed his hands on the console, the seven voices speaking in unison from his mouth:
"Authentication number one, the Financier."
"Authentication number two, the Hacker."
"Authentication number three, the Soldier."
"Authentication number four, the Criminal."
"Authentication number five, the Scientist."
"Authentication number six, the Doctor."
"Authentication number seven, the original host."
The console erupted with blinding white light, and the sphere of light violently contracted, finally solidifying into a tiny Blue Crystal that fell into Qiyue's hand. The portal was sealed, but the core was preserved—the "backdoor" demanded by the Criminal.
Countdown: 1 minute, 44 seconds.
"Now, deal with the bomb." The Soldier's consciousness took charge of the action. Qiyue grabbed Marcus's electronic eye—the data stream inside showed the bomb was located in the B5 level elevator shaft.
"There's no time to disarm it," the Financier analyzed calmly.
"Then change the detonation method," the Scientist suggested. "Use an EMP to induce a premature explosion; the yield will be enough to destroy the evidence without compromising structural safety."
Qiyue took an EMP grenade from his equipment pack and handed it to AI Su Muqing: "Can you do it?"
A smile appeared on the AI's image for the first time: "For Su Muqing." She took the grenade, her body turning physical, and sprinted toward the elevator.
"Wait!" Qiyue shouted, "You'll be destroyed!"
"I am only a program," the AI looked back at him, "while she... is a real person. Find her."
Then she vanished, merging into the elevator control system. Ten seconds later, the entire building shook violently, but much less than expected—the AI had precisely calculated the explosive yield.
Alarms wailed, and the automatic sprinkler system activated. Marcus had somehow escaped, leaving behind only a pool of blood. Qiyue gripped the Blue Crystal tightly—it was now the only connection between the seven worlds—and dashed toward the elevator.
The elevator was out of service, but the emergency stairs were still accessible. Qiyue sprinted upward, his lungs burning, the old injury in his left leg throbbing with sharp pain. The seven voices resonated harmoniously in his mind, providing a continuous surge of energy.
When he finally burst out through the main entrance of the building, a series of explosions echoed behind him. The top three floors of Tianyue Financial Tower were swallowed by fireballs, but the main structure remained stable. Amidst the wailing sirens, the crowd fled in all directions.
Qiyue melted into the panicked crowd, the seven voices gradually calming down and merging into a new consciousness—neither purely a traveler nor the original host, but an elevation of both. He touched the Blue Crystal in his pocket, knowing that the fates of the seven worlds now rested in his own hands.
Sirens wailed in the distance as ambulances and fire engines rushed over. Qiyue turned to leave, but at the street corner, a sudden wave of intense pain struck him. The effects of the red drug were wearing off, and his integrated consciousness began to destabilize.
He staggered a few steps, steadying himself against a lamppost, but darkness surged over him like a tidal wave. At the very last moment before losing consciousness, he saw a black sedan pull up in front of him, the door open, and a hand wearing medical gloves reach out...
......
The smell of disinfectant. Qiyue caught this familiar scent once again, dazed and momentarily thinking he was back in that hospital from the beginning of his journey. But when he opened his eyes, he saw an unfamiliar ceiling—a private hospital room, high-end medical equipment, and a panoramic city view outside the window.
"Welcome back," a female voice said.
Qiyue turned his head and saw Chen Xiaoyu—the front desk intern sitting by the bed, holding a book. But her demeanor at that moment was completely different, her gaze as sharp as an eagle's.
"Chen Xiaoyu?" Qiyue's voice was hoarse.
"Sort of." She closed the book. "I'm a... colleague of Su Muqing's. She asked me to watch over you."
Qiyue tried to sit up, but his whole body felt weak. The seven voices in his mind slept quietly, reduced to vague whispers.
"What happened?"
"You've been unconscious for three days." Chen Xiaoyu—or rather, the person disguised as Chen Xiaoyu—handed him a glass of water. "The explosion at Tianyue Financial Tower was ruled an electrical fault. Zheng Mingyuan 'unfortunately died' in the accident, and Lin Yaru inherited most of the shares, but strangely enough, she signed them all over to you yesterday."
Qiyue frowned. This didn't make sense, unless...
"And Marcus?"
"Missing." She shrugged. "Though someone found an electronic prosthetic eye in the underground parking garage, with its internal storage chip burned to ashes."
Qiyue subconsciously reached into his pocket—the Blue Crystal was gone!
"Looking for this?" Chen Xiaoyu took a small box out of a drawer, inside which sat that very Blue Crystal. "An incredible little thing, isn't it? Its quantum state is stable in a way human technology just can't match."
"Give it back to me." Qiyue's voice was cold.
She smiled and placed the box back into his hand: "Don't worry, we're not enemies. In fact..." She took an envelope out of her bag. "This is what Su Muqing left for you."
Qiyue opened the envelope, which contained a photograph and a note. The photo showed a young woman standing in a laboratory, her face similar to AI Su Muqing's but much more vivid, her eyes flashing with intelligence and resilience. The note had only two words on it: Find me.
"She's still alive." Chen Xiaoyu stood up. "Imprisoned in a secret facility belonging to Stellar Investment. Now that the portal is closed, you are the only one who can locate her."
"Why?"
"Because the integrated you holds the memories of seven worlds." She walked toward the door. "Including the tracking algorithm you and she designed together."
Qiyue looked at the photograph, and a strange sense of familiarity welled up in his heart—it wasn't his memory, but the original host's. That Qiyue who deeply loved Su Muqing, that Qiyue who would rather commit suicide than become a weapon.
"Who are you people?" he called out to Chen Xiaoyu, who was about to leave. "And who is the real Su Muqing?"
She looked back, offering a mysterious smile: "We are an organization founded by your wife, called 'Prism'. As for her... ask her yourself once you find her."
The door closed, leaving Qiyue alone to face the silent room. The seven voices gradually woke up in his mind, but instead of arguing, they resonated in harmony. He looked out the window at the city, and suddenly "saw" countless possibilities branching out like twigs—some where he found Su Muqing, some where he built a business empire, and some where he vanished into the darkness...
But right now, only one future stood out clearly: a woman in a white lab coat standing in some laboratory, turning to smile at him: "You're finally here."
Qiyue gripped the Blue Crystal tightly, the seven voices whispering in unison:
"Let's go find her."