The next morning, the room’s light simulator perfectly replicated the soft dawn of a planetary surface.
Lilith was awakened by a gentle doorbell chime.
A black-and-white painted puppet floated in, carrying a tray with a tube of nutrient paste and a glass of water.
“Miss Lilith, Madam Herta will begin today’s ‘research’ in ten minutes,” the puppet announced in a synthesized voice.
Lilith’s heart skipped a beat.
The moment of judgment had arrived.
She quickly finished the tasteless nutrient meal, her mind racing.
This plan was too crazy.
Playing the role of a super genius in front of a real genius was practically the ultimate act of seeking death.
But the thrill of this “open-book exam” was truly addictive.
“You can do this.” She muttered to the silver-haired girl in the mirror, habitually making a motion to push up non-existent glasses.
“It’s just a game, after all.” In the center of the room, a holographic screen flickered to life.
Herta’s figure appeared, sitting leisurely in her command chair with one leg crossed over the other.
She didn’t even bother to come in person.
“Are you ready, little Prophet?” she spoke with a lazy provocation.
“Ready for what, Ms.
Herta?” Lilith countered, forcing a hint of impatience onto her face.
“To play memory games?
I’m not a child.” The corner of Herta’s lips quirked up.
“Good.
I hate dealing with children.” “First question.” “What is the shortest route from the Master Control Zone to the deepest part of the Curio Collection Area that avoids all major surveillance zones?” A trick question.
The shortest route was crawling with cameras.
Lilith curled her lip.
“That’s a stupid question.” “The shortest path is a trap; the smartest path is to take the C-7 maintenance duct, completely bypassing the living quarters in the West Wing.
The exit is behind the ‘Rating Pistol’ containment unit.
The whole walk takes about seven minutes, passes zero major surveillance zones, but has three passive thermal sensors.
Simple.” The Herta in the hologram paused for a second.
She hadn’t expected such a detailed and optimized answer.
“…Correct,” she admitted, her tone gaining a new sense of interest.
“You even memorized the structural diagrams of the maintenance ducts?” “Can’t you tell from the layout of the ventilation system on the main map?” Lilith asked back, feigning surprise.
“The energy consumption patterns of the air filtration nodes are enough to reveal the entire network’s layout.” Her heart was pounding wildly.
This nonsense was entirely made up on the fly based on a side quest where she had to crawl through that duct.
[Host, your talent for bullshitting is much better than your luck with gacha pulls,] the System commented in her mind.
‘Shut up!’ she roared back internally.
Herta leaned forward slightly in her chair.
This game was getting interesting.
“Fine.
Second question.
The energy core in the Supply Zone has become unstable; you have ninety seconds to perform a manual shutdown.” “Your current location is in my private workshop.
Begin.” “I wouldn’t go to the energy core.” Lilith answered immediately.
“Explain.” Herta’s words became sharp.
This wasn’t the answer she expected.
“Going there is a waste of time.
A manual shutdown requires authorization from two researchers, and I am not a researcher.” Lilith walked to the wall terminal in her room.
“I would log into the emergency network from the nearest terminal and use ‘Black Swan’—the station-wide override command—to bypass the authorization locks and directly initiate the remote coolant infusion protocol.” She paused, adding in an almost condescending tone, “The whole process wouldn’t take forty-five seconds.
Anyone with a brain should know that.” The “Black Swan” command was a backdoor Herta had left for herself that she had seen in a data log in the game.
Saying this word was a massive gamble.
A long silence fell on the other side of the hologram.
When Herta spoke again, her lazy demeanor had vanished without a trace.
“How do you know that override command?” “I saw it.” Lilith replied simply, pointing to her temple.
“In those ‘fragments of the future’ you’re so interested in.” The lie was perfect; it explained everything.
Herta’s hologram suddenly vanished.
Lilith let out a breath she had been holding for a long time.
Did I push it too far?
The room door slid open silently.
The real Herta was standing there.
She had come in person.
The pressure in the room skyrocketed instantly.
She walked toward her, her high-heeled boots making a faint clicking sound on the metal floor.
“You’re more than just a prophet,” Herta asserted, her purple pupils locked onto her.
She circled her, like a predator sizing up prey.
“That level of logical deduction and information processing…
isn’t something’seeing the future’ can explain.” “Maybe I’m just a fast learner,” Lilith countered, trying not to let Herta’s powerful presence crush her.
“Then let’s test that theory.” Herta grabbed her wrist; her grip was stronger than expected.
“Follow me.” Without allowing for argument, she pulled her out of the room and through the corridor.
Her pace was fast; Lilith almost had to jog to keep up.
They arrived at a teleportation platform.
“Where are we going?” Lilith asked, an ominous premonition spreading in her heart.
“The final question,” Herta said, activating the device.
The world turned into a stream of blue light before her eyes.
A moment later, they appeared in a dim, narrow corridor filled with humming pipes and a faint smell of ozone in the air.
This was a maintenance passage she vaguely remembered.
“Where are we?” Herta released her wrist.
“Which way leads to the Central Bridge?” This was the ultimate test.
Lilith closed her red eyes, summoning the 3D map she had run through for thousands of hours in her mind.
She opened her eyes and pointed without hesitation toward the fork on the right.
“This way.
Go through the decommissioned mechanical warehouse, then up the spiral staircase.
The exit is right next to the bridge’s secondary entrance.” She took the lead, not even looking back to see if Herta followed.
It was pure bluffing.
“The other way leads to the abandoned waste disposal unit.
It’s a dead end.” She heard footsteps behind her.
The two walked in silence; every turn, every door, matched the locations in her memory perfectly.
Finally, they passed through a circular hatch, and the vast starlight of the Central Bridge opened up before them.
She had gambled correctly.
Lilith turned around to face Herta, wearing a winner’s almost arrogant smile.
“So, did I pass your little game, Ms.
Herta?” Herta didn’t answer immediately.
She walked straight up to her, so close that Lilith had to tilt her head back to see her face.
She reached out, her fingertips brushing through Lilith’s long silver hair.
“A game?” she repeated softly.
“No, this was an assessment.” Then, she cupped Lilith’s cheek, her thumb gently stroking her skin.
The gesture was so intimate it was disorienting.
Lilith’s brain short-circuited instantly.
Her cheeks flushed hot.
“What…
what are you doing?” “Re-evaluating.” Herta’s expression was inscrutable—the curiosity of a scientist toward the unknown, mixed with a dangerous sense of possessiveness.
“Your value far exceeds my initial estimates.” She leaned in even closer.
“The ability to’see’ the future is a useful tool.
But a mind that can process information like this…
that is a treasure.” Despite the warmth of Herta’s hand, Lilith felt a chill.
“So…
what now?” she asked in a weak voice.
“More tests?” “Tests are for materials of unknown quality.” Herta straightened up, but her hand remained on Lilith’s face.
“You have already proven your quality.” She finally let go and turned toward the master control console.
“From now on, you are no longer a guest.
You are my assistant.” “Assistant?” “You will have Level 7 clearance.
You can access all public databases on the Space Station, most Laboratory reports, and real-time observation logs of the Simulated Universe.” Herta turned back, a predator’s light gleaming in her purple pupils.
“I’m not interested in what you can remember.
I want to see how you think.” “I am giving you the keys to my library; let me see what you can build with this knowledge.” She entered a command on the console.
The collar around Lilith’s neck beeped softly, and a new green indicator light turned on.
Her clearance level had been updated.
“Don’t disappoint me, my little treasure,” Herta’s words were both a promise and a threat.
“Your ‘research’ begins now.” She turned and left, leaving a stunned Lilith standing alone on the bridge.
She did it.
She passed.
She won.
But this prize felt heavier and more dangerous than the test itself.
[Congratulations,] the System’s voice rang in her mind, dripping with irony.
[You’ve just been promoted from a lab rat to a lab rat with the keys to the cheese warehouse.] Lilith felt her legs go weak, and she slumped against the console.
[She’s no longer testing your memory.] The System’s voice became serious.
[She is monitoring your every move in the database.
Every file you open, every search term you enter—she is building a cognitive model of you.
One search for ‘how to go home’ or ‘what is the system,’ and you’re finished.] The joy of victory vanished, replaced by a cold dread.
This game had just upgraded to Nightmare difficulty.