Before she could recover, Zero’s voice sounded again, still without any emotion, yet carrying information that made her hair stand on end: “I have no rejection of this accidental event.
On the contrary, the information carried by your consciousness that exceeds the observation boundary of this World line, as well as what you define as the ‘Marvel Universe’, has extremely high reference value for Antikythera’s observation sequence.” “How do you know about the Marvel Universe?” Mio’s consciousness jolted violently.
“I have never said this word to anyone!” “I have completed a full scan and analysis of your underlying consciousness memory.” In Zero’s eyes, the code stream refreshed rapidly.
“Your identity in the original baseline World is ‘Commander’, a participant in Antikythera’s multi-round experimental field.
This is also the core reason why your consciousness was able to break through the World barrier and match my observation carrier.” Mio’s breathing stopped instantly.
Commander.
This identity, which only she knew—that of sitting in that rental apartment in 2026, facing the azur lane game screen—was spoken, word for word, by this highest observer of the Siren before her.
She was like someone watching a play from behind a screen, suddenly having their identity called out by the protagonist in the play; the fourth wall shattered completely at this moment.
“You…” Mio’s voice was trembling.
“What exactly do you want to do?” Zero slowly raised her hand, her fingertips tracing through the void, and countless strings of code gathered in front of her into a huge star map covering countless World lines.
On the star map, countless closed loops were repeating in cycles, and among them was a tiny, flickering blue node.
Her voice still had no emotion, but she uttered a series of terms that Mio only half-understood, filled with the exclusive riddles of the Siren: “The observation boundary of Antikythera has stagnated.
Our—that is, the core mission of the Judge Program—is to find new possibilities to break through the cycle and escape the annihilation ending.
But as the builder and observer of the closed loop, I cannot depart from the preset model framework and cannot become the variable that breaks the closed loop.” Zero lowered her hand, her gaze finally “focusing” on Mio’s consciousness.
In those sea-blue eyes, there was still no emotion, yet it was as if she could pierce through the barriers of time and space.
“And you are the absolute accident outside the standard model.
You suddenly possess the full authority and carrier of Observer Zero, while simultaneously carrying information from ‘outside the screen’ that exceeds the closed-loop framework.
You will fulfill the core duties of Antikythera as Second Observer Zero: observe, record, break boundaries, and find new possibilities for the Siren.” Mio stood there, stunned, her mind in a mess.
She could understand every word, yet it seemed like she didn’t understand what Zero was saying at all.
She was just a transmigrator who wanted to survive; how did she suddenly become the Second Observer of the Siren, tasked with the mission of finding new possibilities for them?
Just then, the entire space suddenly began to shake violently, and the surrounding galaxy of code rippled densely.
Zero’s figure also began to become transparent and blurry—the time limit for the connection between the carrier and consciousness had reached its end.
In the dissipating stream of code, Zero’s figure looked at Mio one last time, still in that emotionless, precision-computer-like tone, and left one last sentence: “Do not let me down, Commander.” The moment the words fell, Zero’s figure completely turned into countless code fragments, dissipating into the galaxy.
“Wait!
You haven’t explained clearly—” Mio instinctively reached out to grab, but only touched a cold stream of data.
A strong sense of weightlessness struck again, and her consciousness was suddenly yanked back by an invisible hand, instantly falling back into her physical body.
With a muffled “thud”, she stumbled back a step, her back hitting the apartment door heavily.
Before her was the familiar entryway, the lights were still on, the backpack was still thrown on the sofa, and her fingertips were still resting on the plastic casing of the light switch, as if the meeting in the depths of her consciousness just now had been merely a momentary hallucination.
But Mio knew clearly that it was not a hallucination.
She raised her hand and touched her face; in her sea-blue eyes, lingering shock and bewilderment remained.
She was not TB.
Her transmigration to this World really was an accident with a probability so low it could be ignored.
Observer Zero knew she was the “Commander” and knew everything about her from behind the screen.
And now, she had been granted the identity of Second Observer Zero, tasked with finding new possibilities for the Siren trapped in a cycle.
Mio slid down the door panel and sat on the floor, her mind echoing repeatedly with Zero’s last emotionless words.
Outside the window, the night in New York was as thick as ink, and the spire of Stark Tower in the distance still shone with a cold, hard light in the night.
Her fingertips unconsciously traced the cold floor, and a string of pale blue code spread from her fingertips, only to dissipate silently in an instant, as if it had never appeared.