When the poisonous mist from the mine choked Lin Yuan for the third time, he finally understood the bloody countdown on the collar on the back of his neck - it was not a reminder that the antidote had failed, but a countdown for the aristocrat's annihilation of the native species.
In his past life, he held his lover's hand and watched the light rain of judgment rain down from the suspended castle; in this life, he clutched the bloody chip in the collapsed rubble and heard the mechanical female voice playing in a loop in his mind: "The host's gene fitness is detected to be 100%, and the silver-blue blood inheritance ceremony is started."
She would still sew up his wounds late at night, put her warm palms against his mechanical prostheses and say, "We will be free soon," but she didn't know that he had hidden the nanomachines hooked under her skirt - a combat unit that only noble princes were allowed to use.
When the loud noise of millions of mining slaves smashing collars shook the ground, and when the suspended castle spread out its twelve sky-covering giant feet, Lin Yuan finally understood that the so-called "noble kindness" was nothing but food from the captives, and that the woman he loved deeply had woven the virus code into his synapses from the first time she bandaged his wound.
"This time, I want your Ark to run over my own family tree." He licked the blood from the corner of his mouth and watched the familiar fleur-de-lis emblem on her armor twist in the explosion - it turns out that the most deadly betrayal is never the direction of the blade, but the launch button pressed by her fingertips during the hug.
