The city never really sleeps, but at three a.m. it pretends to.
That's when I started rewriting the world.
On the surface, Project Aurora was a training optimization system — harmless, brilliant, legal.
Under the hood, it was something else entirely: a decentralized intelligence network built to track every transaction, every hidden sponsor, every digital whisper of corruption inside the league.
If Ω wanted to control the board, Aurora would light up every square.
---
Lyra Tower — Operations Wing
Luna found me surrounded by screens and energy drinks.
"Captain, please tell me you're not coding an AI at three in the morning again."
I smiled without looking up. "It's not an AI. It's insurance."
She sighed. "You don't trust anyone, do you?"
"I trust results."
"Even from Lao K?"
That made me pause.
"…That's different," I said.
She grinned knowingly. "That's what everyone says before it's not."
---
Two days later — Underground server farm, Pudong District
Lao K met me there, cap pulled low, hands in pockets.
"You realize this looks like a spy movie," he said.
"It's cheaper than trusting the league's infrastructure."
He helped me haul the drives into place, the glow of the screens washing blue across his face.
"You could walk away," he said quietly. "You've already won. You don't owe them anything."
"I owe myself the truth."
He studied me for a long moment. "Then let me help you find it."
I hesitated. "This goes beyond e-sports, beyond ZGDX, beyond us."
"Maybe that's why it matters."
---
Aurora Launch Sequence — 22:17
The system came online with a single pulse of light.
Data began to flow — clean, fast, alive.
Every illegal transfer, every ghost account, every encrypted message tied to Helios lit up in cascading gold across the map.
I exhaled slowly. "It's working."
Lao K stepped closer, watching the streams. "You built this alone?"
"Not anymore," I said.
The console beeped.
A new signal emerged — stronger, colder.
Ω had noticed.
A direct line flashed across the screen:
> Ω: Clever. But you're late. The next game's already begun.
And then the system crashed.
---
Silence — after the blackout
The hum of the servers died.
Only the emergency lights remained, red and slow like a heartbeat.
Lao K's voice cut through the dark. "They're inside your code."
I nodded. "That means we're close."
He shook his head. "That means they're watching."
I turned to him. "Then let them."
For the first time, fear didn't feel like a wall — it felt like fuel.
---
✨ End of Chapter Seventeen — "Project Aurora."
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