The Genetic Abyss: White Mouse Cheng Xue's Ark at the End of the World

The neon lights of New York's Chrysler Building twisted into blood-red patches in the torrential rain. Lu Chen stood at the edge of the observation deck on the 86th floor, while beneath his feet the Huangpu River spiraled into the East China Sea. A holographic projection unfurled before him, displaying live footage from seven hundred parallel universes. Each world held a pyramid of a different form: some were made of crystal, others flowed with liquid metal, and the newest pyramid's peak had even pierced the surface of the moon.

"The Civilization Screening Program will begin at 23:59:59." The AI butler's voice carried the mechanical warmth unique to its kind. "According to Gaia's calculations, the survival rate for those retaining the genes of old humanity is 23.7 percent higher than for those of the new humanity."

Lu Chen raised the syringe. The pale purple liquid inside was the same color as Cheng Xue's eyes. Suddenly, he remembered an old man at an archaeological site in Iraq twelve years ago, smiling at him as he held a cuneiform tablet. "Child, when the upside-down skyscrapers fall, remember why you weep."

Outside the window, twelve black triangular fighter jets cut through the rain. The eight-pointed star insignia flashing on their undersides made Lu Chen's pupils contract. These were not the Federal Air Force, but the "Cleaners," a unit directly under the Freemasons. He pressed the emergency self-destruct button on his watch, and the images of all seven hundred parallel universes suddenly collapsed at once.

In the final frame, Cheng Xue stood at the center of the stone statues on Easter Island, cradling a cold embryo. Her white hair streamed in the quantum storm, and the thorns of her crown pierced her temples. At last, Lu Chen understood the old man's words: what they called the evolution of civilization was nothing more than a horror story God had written for humanity.