"Then what?! Just stand here and watch Sasha die?!" Rebecca violently shook off Maine's hand, green optics brimming with tears of desperation and rage.
Like a trapped cub uselessly swiping its claws, her voice tore through the air: "Tell me, Maine! What the fuck are we supposed to do now?!"
That near-breakdown question hit like a precision trigger signal, feeding straight into floating "Test Subject One's" audio receptors.
Test Subject One's eye sockets blazed suddenly bright and steady, even taking on a sharp edge.
Its mandible clicked rapidly, firing off dense binary patterns almost beyond human hearing—like internal processors running storm calculations.
"High-priority rescue request detected." Its synthesized voice stayed level but picked up speed, carrying undeniable logical force. "Current situation analysis: Target individual trapped on Biotechnica Tower's twenty-seventh floor, facing immediate life-threatening danger.
External rescue routes blocked by physical and aerial forces. Conventional infiltration success rate below zero point three percent."
Brief pause. Blue light flickered sharply.
"Initiating unconventional solution: Direct invasion of Biotechnica local security network, seize system control."
"Protocol steps:"
"One: Use established weak communication link as springboard, reverse-locate main network nodes."
"Two: Inject custom breach programs, collapse firewalls and active defense systems."
"Three: Seize highest authority over drones, internal security robots, and environmental control systems."
"Four: Create breakthrough window for rescue team and establish escape route for target individual."
"Estimated completion time: Three to five minutes. Risk: May trigger enemy backup emergency protocols or attract corporate network counterattack teams. Execute?"
That string of analysis—cold to the point of ruthless—plunged the cabin into dead silence.
Maine, Dorio, Falco, even volatile Rebecca—all stared dumbfounded at this mechanical skull that seemed to suddenly "wake up" and display shocking aggression.
Directly invade a corporate giant's internal network? Seize control? That was pure fantasy!
Even top netrunners needed massive prep time and external support for something like that. Insanely high risk!
"You... you saying what? You can do that?" Pilar stammered, like meeting this "hunk of metal" he'd been casually handling for the first time.
"Based on available data connection and built-in algorithms, success probability assessed at seventy-two point four percent." Test Subject One responded calmly. "Creator-integrated adaptive learning modules and efficient data processing protocols provide significant advantages for this task type."
Rebecca had zero interest in technical analysis. She only caught "success probability" and "escape route."
Hope's fire instantly rekindled in her eyes, burning fiercer than before.
"Then what are you waiting for?! Go! Execute! Execute now! Fry those damn drones and robots! Get Sasha out!" She practically lunged at Test Subject One, roaring commands like driving some guardian deity with unlimited power.
"Command confirmed. Highest priority: Rescue target 'Sasha.' Initiating network invasion protocol."
Test Subject One spoke no more. Blue light in its eye sockets solidified like physical matter.
It hovered silently to the cabin's center. The entire skull seemed to faintly vibrate, internal processors' full-throttle hum audible even through the shell.
Inside Biotechnica Tower, twenty-seventh floor office.
Sasha slumped against the cold wall, gasping violently.
The office door was completely destroyed. Three security robots' massive frames blocked the entrance, crimson optical sensors locked on her.
Several robot carcasses lay scattered on the floor—melted through, partially vaporized by the plasma pistol's terrifying power. Air thick with ozone and burnt metal stench.
The data upload progress bar finally reached its end—one hundred percent. She quickly severed the connection, smashed the data slate, ensuring no remnants.
Mission complete.
Mom's injustice might finally see justice.
Enough.
She glanced out the window. Several dozen meters up, concrete below.
Rather than get captured by robots and endure endless Biotechnica interrogation and torture, better to choose her own ending.
She took a deep breath, trying to suppress guilt toward Maine's crew and fear of death, preparing to rush toward the shattered window.
At that critical moment!
Everything changed!
Those three "predator" robots closing in at the doorway suddenly froze simultaneously!
Their crimson optical sensors flashed crazily for a few seconds, then went completely dark for a full second. When they lit again, they'd shifted to gentle, standby-neutral blue!
Their raised capture net launchers and shock batons dropped limply. Massive frames stood rigid like power-cut statues, no longer threatening.
Not just that—drones circling outside that had been targeting Sasha with red aiming lasers suddenly went haywire, wobbling erratically through the air. Some even collided mid-flight, trailing black smoke as they crashed.
Distant hovercar engine roars got replaced by sudden explosions and impacts!
Biotechnica Tower's entire security system fell into bizarre, complete paralysis within mere seconds!
Sasha stood frozen, completely unable to process what was happening.
What the hell?
Just then, her earpiece crackled back to life with Rebecca's familiar, frantic roar—signal so clear now: "Sasha! Sasha! You hearing this?! That flying skull thing pulled it off! It actually worked! What's your status?! The robots stopped moving, right?!"
Sasha immediately understood.
Maine's crew! They'd used some unbelievable method to disrupt Biotechnica's systems!
A surge of last-second salvation warmed her chest, immediately replaced by deeper worry.
Even with systems down, she was still in danger. And doing this had completely exposed Maine's crew to Biotechnica's wrath.
"Rebecca! I'm... I'm okay! System seems down! But you guys need to leave! Don't worry about me! Biotechnica won't let this go!" She shouted urgently into the comm.
"Leave my ass!" Rebecca's roar nearly burst her eardrum. "Listen up, dummy! We're already downstairs! That skull thing's finding you an exit route! Stay put and don't move! Wait for us to pick you up! That's an order!"
Downstairs? Sasha's heart sank.
They really came! Broke into corporate territory—for her!
She rushed to the window, looking down.
The street below was chaos. One of the hovercars that had sealed the airspace was falling, burning. Drones collided like headless flies.
At chaos's edge, she faintly spotted that familiar Goodwood SUV.
Can't... can't let them go deeper! The danger here hasn't lifted! Who knows what backup measures Biotechnica has! She'd already dragged them in too far!
A desperate thought formed.
Maybe... maybe if she "disappeared," Biotechnica would lose their target. Maine's crew might get a chance to escape.
She looked down at the drop again. Death's cold embrace wrapped around her once more.
But this time, that coldness carried release and protection for her companions.
She spoke into the comm, voice as calm as possible: "Rebecca... thank you guys! Really! Tell Maine, tell everyone... I'm sorry! And... take good care of your gun for me."
Before Rebecca's confused, intensely worried roar could come through, Sasha cut the connection.
She took one last look at this cold world, at that blurry vehicle representing "home" below. Longing flashed through her eyes, immediately replaced by firm resolve.
Without hesitation, she turned, ran, used every ounce of strength, and dove toward that shattered glass window opening to the void!
Wind sound instantly flooded her ears, drowning out everything else in the world.
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