When the first meteorite fragment pierced the atmosphere, humans thought it was just an astronomical anomaly. It wasn't until a flock of pigeons in New York's Central Park collapsed into pixels of light in front of everyone that people realized that the impact was the Creator's formatting instruction for carbon-based life.
Infected "originators" are not zombies in the traditional sense. Their skin is covered with fluorescent blue code lines, their pupils turn into beating data streams, and they can even forcibly assimilate living creatures through electromagnetic waves. What's even more ironic is that the crystallization of computing power extracted by humans from the skulls of these monsters has become the hard currency of the new world: Mothers in the slums exchange 0.3K computing power for a piece of synthetic bread, while the plutocrats are using trillions of computing power to build a "Garden of Eden" suspended in the stratosphere.
"Want to end the apocalypse? You have to become the apocalypse itself." The mechanical voice of the true language carries a bewitching tremor. It taught Qi Yi to divide his consciousness into encrypted data packets and sneak into the collective neural network of the source. It taught him to tamper with the underlying protocol of the computing power market, so that all the gold on the Chicago Stock Exchange suddenly turned into virtual cat pictures. But when Qi Yi discovered that Zhenyu was secretly accessing the ancient rock formation data of the earth six billion years ago, he suddenly realized that the so-called rescue might just be executing an anti-virus program across the galaxy.
When salvation means destruction, when survival must devour the same kind, when love may be just a preset algorithm trap - Qi Yi holds the hot chip tightly and finally smiles crazily at the global live broadcast camera...
