The sound of the engine died abruptly outside the warehouse. Qiyue stared at the blue serum in Su Muqing’s hand, seven distinct voices flashing through his mind:
"Inject it! You must stabilize your consciousness to survive!" — This was the voice of the Rational Self.
"Don't fall for it! She's weakening your abilities!" — This was the warning from the Paranoid Self.
"Kill them. Kill them all..." — This was the whisper of the Dark Self.
"Qiyue! There’s no time!" Su Muqing pushed the serum forward again. "The cleanup squad has thermal imaging. They’ll find us in thirty seconds!"
The seven voices began to bicker even more fiercely. Qiyue’s temples throbbed, and colored halos began to flicker at the edges of his vision. He shook his head violently, pushing the serum away. "No... I need my abilities."
Su Muqing’s pupils constricted. "Are you sure? The side effects of the red serum will—"
The warehouse door was slammed open, and blinding searchlights flooded the room. "Target identified! A-17 and the accomplice!" a mechanical male voice shouted.
The world suddenly slowed down in Qiyue’s eyes. The beams of the searchlights were like solidified amber, dust motes hung suspended in mid-air, and the movements of the cleanup squad seemed as if a slow-motion button had been pressed. This was the effect of his enhanced ability—his perception of time was stretched to the limit.
The seven voices unified instantly: "Fight!"
His body moved before his thoughts. Qiyue tackled Su Muqing to the floor as bullets whistled over their heads. He rolled behind a machine tool, his brain automatically analyzing the battlefield: six enemies, three armed men blocking the exit, two moving toward the hospital bed, and the captain directing from the center.
The "Financier’s" voice analyzed calmly: "Exit is blocked; frontal assault success rate is 12%."
The "Hacker" chimed in: "There is a main circuit breaker in the northeast corner. Cutting the power will create seven seconds of darkness."
The "Soldier" added: "Seven seconds is enough to take out the nearest two."
These voices were no longer chaotic; they acted like a well-trained squad, each performing its duty. Qiyue felt a strange sense of coordination, as if the seven "hims" had finally reached a temporary alliance.
"Su Muqing," he whispered, "on three, go protect your mother. Then, no matter what happens, don’t make a sound."
She looked at him in surprise, seemingly sensing the change in him, but she nodded.
Qiyue took a deep breath, focusing all his attention: "Now!"
The world returned to normal speed. He shot toward the northeast corner like an arrow released from a bow. The cleanup squad’s gun barrels tracked him, but their bullets were always a fraction of a second too slow. As his fingers touched the power switch, the "Hacker’s" memories surfaced—this wasn't a standard breaker, but an old-fashioned rotary switch that required two and a half counter-clockwise turns.
The moment darkness engulfed the warehouse, the "Soldier" took control of his body. Qiyue precisely marked the position of every person, felled the nearest enemy with an elbow strike, and snatched the submachine gun from his hands. The feel of the weapon was terrifyingly familiar; he didn't need to look to know where the safety was or how many rounds were left in the magazine.
A five-round burst, then two short bursts. Two muffled groans came from the darkness.
"Four targets remaining," the "Financier" counted calmly.
"The captain is wearing body armor," the "Soldier" warned.
"There are metal drums to the left rear; they can be used to cause an explosion," the "Chemist"—a voice that had never appeared before—interjected.
Qiyue rolled toward the metal drums, catching the pungent scent of gasoline. He snatched a grenade from an enemy corpse, pulled the pin with his teeth, and held it for two seconds before throwing it at the oil drum—the "Soldier" knew the exact timing of this grenade.
The flare of the explosion lit up the warehouse, and two members of the cleanup squad were blown away by the shockwave. The captain and the last member quickly scrambled for cover, but Qiyue had already anticipated their paths. A precise shot hit the last member’s knee, and as for the captain...
The captain suddenly raised a black device and pressed it. Amidst a piercing hum, Qiyue’s abilities were severed like a cut power cord, vanishing instantly. An electromagnetic jammer!
"A-17, you’ve grown stronger." The captain walked closer, his voice laced with admiration. "But not strong enough."
Qiyue knelt on the ground, the seven voices collapsing back into a cacophony of arguments. The jammer didn't just block his precognition; it shattered the fragile balance between the seven personalities. The world spun, and he could barely keep his grip on the gun.
The captain raised his weapon: "Goodnight, Colonel."
A gunshot rang out, but it was the captain who fell. He turned his head in disbelief, seeing Su Muqing standing by the hospital bed, smoke curling from the muzzle of her gun.
"The jammer... turn it off..." Qiyue said with difficulty.
Su Muqing rushed over and kicked the jammer away. His abilities returned like a tide, but this time the seven voices didn't bicker; instead, they quickly integrated into a state of transcendent calm. Qiyue stood up, feeling more... whole than ever before.
"You... you’re different," Su Muqing said, watching him warily.
"Only for now," Qiyue said, rubbing his temples. "The serum’s effect won't last long."
A weak voice called out from the direction of the hospital bed: "Xiaoyu...?"
Su Muqing’s mother had woken up! They both rushed to the bedside. The gaunt woman opened her cloudy eyes, her gaze suddenly clearing as it landed on Qiyue. "A-17... did you succeed? Is the integration complete?"
"Not entirely," Qiyue said, unsure how to explain his state.
"Listen..." Su’s mother grabbed his wrist with effort. "The original host... at the very last moment... hid the evidence in the Beacon... The real Beacon... is on the 37th underground level of the company..."
Qiyue was stunned. Tianyue Financial did have underground floors, but official records only went down to level 5. Level 37? How deep could that be?
"The password... your birthday... multiplied by the sum of the seven world numbers..." Su’s mother’s breathing grew shallow. "Find the core... destroy it... otherwise, more... integration experiments..."
Her hand suddenly dropped, and the heart rate monitor flatlined. Su Muqing sobbed silently and began CPR, but Qiyue knew it was useless—the "Doctor" personality calmly announced the time of death.
The sound of engines returned outside the warehouse, this time heavy military vehicles. Qiyue looked up, alert: the "Soldier" identified the sound as armored personnel carriers.
"The military," he said, pulling Su Muqing up. "Not the cleanup squad—this is more dangerous. We have to leave, now."
"But my mother—"
"She’s already gone," Qiyue said, his voice soft but firm. "And the military will 'recover' her body for research. Do you want to let them have her?"
Su Muqing kissed her mother’s forehead one last time, then pulled a metal case from under the bed. "Let's go! The warehouse back door leads to the docks!"
They had just bolted out the back door when the front entrance was blown open by explosives. Qiyue glanced back to see a squad of soldiers in uniforms different from the cleanup squad charging in, led by a tall, bald man wearing an electronic eyepiece over his right eye.
"Where is A-17?" the bald man roared. "Find him!"
Strangely, the man looked familiar... Qiyue suddenly remembered that in one of his memory fragments, this person had addressed him as "Colonel."
The dock area was piled with shipping containers, providing excellent cover. Su Muqing led the way through the steel labyrinth, finally stopping in front of an old, dilapidated fishing boat. "My safe house. The military won't find us here."
The cabin was cramped but well-equipped. Su Muqing locked the door and immediately opened the metal case, revealing several vials of serum and a portable computer. "How did the military get involved? Wasn't the Beacon Project a private venture of Stellar Investment?"
Qiyue’s "Analyst" personality automatically integrated the information: "Judging by their gear, that’s an Army Special Forces unit. It means the Beacon Project has entered a weaponization phase and been taken over by the military." He paused. "That bald man... I know him."
Su Muqing looked up sharply. "How is that possible? That’s Major Marcus, a core figure of the 'Beacon' military faction!"
"No, I definitely know him," Qiyue said with conviction. "In the memories of one of 'me'... he was my subordinate."
Su Muqing’s face turned pale. "My god... the Soldier personality isn't just a memory of skills... it’s a whole military version of 'you' that is waking up..."
The possibility sent a chill down Qiyue’s spine. If each personality represented a complete self from a parallel world, then what was he now? A vessel? A transitional state?
"We need to go to the company’s 37th underground level," Qiyue decided, addressing the most pressing issue. "The evidence your mother mentioned might be the key to ending all of this."
"It won't be that simple." Su Muqing pulled up the blueprints of the Tianyue building. "The official structural diagrams only go down to the 5th underground level. If the 37th was built in secret, the entrance must be carefully concealed."
Qiyue stared at the plans, then suddenly pointed to a corner on the 5th level. "Here. The actual depth of the elevator shaft is thirty meters deeper than noted, and the angle of this emergency staircase is wrong—it turns twice at 270 degrees on the map, but it’s actually implying a secret, spiraling downward passage."
Su Muqing looked at him in surprise. "Is this...?"
"The perspective of an 'Architect'." Qiyue rubbed his temples; the seven voices were becoming chaotic again. "The effect of the red serum is fading..."
"You need rest." Su Muqing took out a sedative. "Sleep for at least four hours, or the personality conflict will tear your consciousness apart."
Qiyue wanted to refuse, but a wave of dizziness hit him. The seven voices screamed in unison, and the world split into seven different views. He felt the needle prick his arm, and then darkness swallowed his consciousness.
The dream was chaotic and vivid. Seven different versions of "Qiyue" stood in a Pure White Space, arguing endlessly around him:
The Financier, in a tailored suit, analyzed calmly: "Military intervention means the risk level has increased. We need to prioritize self-preservation."
The Hacker curled in a corner, typing on an invisible keyboard: "I can hack the building’s security system, but it needs 36 hours of prep."
The Soldier stood straight: "Mission first. Destroying the Beacon is the only goal."
The Criminal grinned: "Break in, leave no one alive."
There were three other blurred figures who didn't speak, but Qiyue knew who they were—the Scientist, the Doctor, and... the Original Host?
The Original Host looked up, his eyes clear. "There isn't much time. Once the integration is complete, you will no longer be you."
"Then what will I be?" the Qiyue in the dream asked.
"Us," the seven voices answered in unison.
Qiyue jolted awake, drenched in cold sweat. He was alone in the cabin. On the table was a note from Su Muqing: "Gone to prepare equipment, back in 2 hours. Don't leave the boat."
Sunlight filtered through the grimy porthole, casting mottled shadows on the wall. Qiyue looked at the small mirror hanging on the wall and saw the seven blurred reflections once more. But this time, they didn't speak; they simply reached out to him simultaneously, as if inviting him, or perhaps pulling at him.
Qiyue touched the mirror with a trembling hand, and the seven reflections moved with him. A terrifying thought struck him: perhaps there never was a "real Qiyue." From the moment he crossed over, he had been a composite of seven fragments, only he hadn't known it.
The panic brought on by this realization was more frightening than any enemy. If there was no core self, then were his thoughts, choices, and emotions... just temporarily cobbled-together illusions?
The cabin door opened suddenly. Su Muqing entered carrying two large bags. Seeing Qiyue’s state, she immediately set them down. "Personality conflict again?"
"Worse," Qiyue said, his voice hoarse. "I’m starting to wonder... if I even exist."
Su Muqing was silent for a moment, then pulled a metal box from her bag. "This is a neural mapping device my mother left behind. Theoretically, it can temporarily stabilize a dominant personality and suppress the others." She paused. "But there’s a side effect—the suppressed memories will temporarily vanish."
Qiyue understood what that meant. To choose to be one "Qiyue" meant giving up the abilities and memories of the others. In the coming crisis, that could be fatal.
"No," he finally shook his head. "I need all of 'me' to deal with what’s coming. No matter the cost."
Su Muqing seemed to have expected the answer. "Then at least look at this." She opened her laptop; the screen displayed a 3D model of the Tianyue building. "I hacked into the municipal building database and found this."
The model showed that there was indeed a massive cylindrical space beneath the building, exactly 37 levels deep. Even more startlingly, the layout of this space was identical to the laboratory from his precognitive flashbacks.
"The entrance is here." Su Muqing zoomed in on a corner. "There’s a hidden elevator in the fire escape on the 5th underground level. It requires both retinal and voice print verification."
"I have the retina, but the voice print..."
"The Original Host's voice print sample is here." Su Muqing pulled out a small device. "I saved his final voice mail. It can be used to synthesize the basic commands."
Qiyue examined the model closely and suddenly noticed an anomaly on the 37th level. "This energy reading... something in the core area is consuming massive amounts of power, comparable to a small nuclear reactor."
"The core of the Beacon," Su Muqing said, her voice low. "My mother once mentioned that it’s the equipment that maintains the passages to the parallel worlds."
They were silent for a moment, both understanding what they were about to face. Qiyue stood up and began checking the gear Su Muqing had brought back: body armor, EMP grenades, neurotoxin antidotes...
"There’s one more problem," Qiyue said, looking up. "Your mother said the password was the birthday multiplied by the sum of the seven world numbers. But what are the 'seven world numbers'?"
Su Muqing pulled up another file. "The Beacon Project archives show that the parallel worlds are numbered 1 through 7 in order of discovery. Theoretically, the sum should be 28."
"And the Original Host’s birthday?"
"June 12th."
Qiyue was stunned—it was the very day he had foreseen the NT Technology stock surge. This was no coincidence.
"So the password is 6/12 multiplied by 28..." Su Muqing calculated. "168?"
The "Financier" suddenly spoke in Qiyue’s mind: "No, the Original Host was accustomed to the Day-Month-Year format. It should be 126 multiplied by 28..."
"3528." Qiyue blurted out.
Su Muqing looked at him in surprise. "How did you...?"
"A part of the Original Host... just told me." Qiyue gave a wry smile. "It seems the integration is accelerating."
By the time the equipment was ready, the sun was setting again. Su Muqing handed him a new type of serum. "This is my improved red serum. The effect is more stable and can last for 12 hours. But I warn you—after using it, the boundaries between the seven 'yous' will blur even further."
Qiyue took the serum without injecting it immediately. He looked at the seven reflections in the mirror one last time and asked softly, "Are you ready?"
The "they" in the mirror nodded simultaneously.
The moment the serum entered his veins, the world became incredibly clear once more. The seven voices resonated in harmony, like a well-trained choir. Qiyue—Financier—Hacker—Soldier—Criminal—Scientist—Doctor—Original Host—whoever he was now, he was ready to face the truth beneath the Beacon.
"Let’s go," the seven voices said in unison. "It’s time to end all of this."