The Laboratory of Herta was so quiet that only the low hum of operating instruments remained.
Herta floated in mid-air, fully focused on processing a curio energy model, countless data streams converging and dispersing at her fingertips.
Meanwhile, on a soft chair not far away, Lilith was boredly toying with a twelve-order phase cube.
This was a “toy” Herta had tossed to her two days ago, meant to help her pass her “excess energy.” “Click!” [Host, you have already taken it apart and put it back together seventeen times.] The system’s voice echoed in her mind.
‘Shut up, I’m building up the mood,’ Lilith responded in her heart.
‘Do you think acting in front of the smartest person in the universe is an easy task?’ She slid off the chair, her bare feet stepping onto the cool metal floor, and paced to the giant observation window.
Outside the window lay eternal darkness and distant starlight.
The timing was about right.
She stared into deep space, her crimson pupils beginning to glaze over, and her body stiffened accordingly.
Suddenly, her hand loosened, and the phase cube she had picked up again fell to the floor, emitting a series of crisp clattering sounds.
The sound was exceptionally jarring in the silent Laboratory.
“So noisy.” Herta did not turn around, spitting out the three words impatiently.
But she did not receive the usual sharp retort from Lilith.
Behind her, there was only the sound of suppressed, shallow breathing.
Lilith was clutching her head with both hands, her small body curled up, her face showing an expression intertwined with pain and confusion.
“So noisy…” She muttered to herself, her voice very soft, yet clear enough to reach Herta’s ears.
“A…
singing Astral Express…
It is traveling through the stars…” Herta descended from her floating chair and walked to Lilith in a few steps, her tall figure casting a shadow that completely covered her.
“What are you babbling about?” Lilith ignored her, continuing to speak in a sleep-talking tone.
“The Astral Express…
brings’seeds’…
seeds of hope…” “But…
it also attracts…
greedy ‘parasites’…” “They are coming…
So hungry…
They are going to devour this place…” Having finished the last sentence, Lilith’s body went limp, about to collapse backward.
Herta reached out to steady her.
Her hands met slender shoulders and a slight tremor.
“Hey.” Herta called out.
Lilith suddenly “woke up,” pushing Herta away forcefully, retreating several steps until she leaned against the wall, gasping for air.
She raised her head, her crimson pupils filled with terror and lingering fear.
“Sorry, Herta…” Her voice carried a hint of trembling.
“That prank by the Elation…
seems to have left some aftereffects.” She pointed to her own head.
“I’ve been’seeing’ some strange fragments lately.” Herta did not speak, merely scrutinizing her with those purple eyes, as if analyzing an instrument with abnormal readings.
“And…” Lilith continued her performance, rubbing her arms as if feeling cold.
“My sense of ‘being invaded’…
has become particularly sensitive.” She glanced cautiously at Herta.
“I always feel…
that something bad is about to crawl in along the external signals.” “Signals?” Herta finally spoke, repeating the keyword.
“Yeah.” Lilith nodded vigorously, walking to a wall where an embedded control panel was located.
She extended her finger, tracing the general outline of the Space Station on it, then pointed to several areas on the outermost perimeter.
“Can the Space Station’s peripheral neural defense network be upgraded?” Her proposal was specific and clear.
“Those outermost detectors and signal relay stations have defense protocols that are too outdated.” This reason was flawless.
It transformed an ethereal “prophecy” into a concrete, feasible technical problem.
It was no longer the rambling of a charlatan, but a security recommendation based on “special intuition.” More importantly, it packaged the motive as Lilith’s own “insecurity.” This precisely struck Herta’s budding protective mentality toward her.
Herta stared at the points Lilith had drawn, falling silent.
Peripheral neural defense network?
That was indeed the most easily overlooked part of the entire Space Station defense system, as they were far from the core and only responsible for basic data collection and signal forwarding.
Upgrade them?
Completely unnecessary; the current protocols were sufficient to handle 99% of known threats.
But…
Herta’s mind flashed with the “design flaws” Lilith had pointed out earlier.
This little one’s way of thinking was unique; she could see redundancies and loopholes that even Herta hadn’t noticed.
Her “sensitivity”…
perhaps wasn’t baseless.
“Your concerns are baseless.” Herta said this, but her body honestly walked toward her main console.
She called up the complete architectural diagram and real-time data streams of the peripheral neural defense network.
Sheets of blue light screens unfolded before her, with data flowing like a waterfall.
“Hey, are you even listening?” Lilith walked over, looking up at her with dissatisfaction.
“I feel very uncomfortable, can you take this seriously?” “Shut up.” Herta didn’t even turn her head.
“I am evaluating the feasibility of your ridiculous proposal.” Her fingers swiped rapidly across the light screen, retrieving logs from several security modules.
Everything was normal.
There were no signs of any intrusion.
But Lilith’s little face, filled with unease, lingered in her mind.
What if…
This thought appeared for only an instant before Herta caught it.
She hated this kind of uncontrollable possibility.
She could tolerate failed experiments, but she could not tolerate any potential threats to her “collection.” “Although your feelings are completely illogical…” Herta finally turned around, looking down at Lilith.
“But there is indeed 3.7% room for optimization in the defense protocols for this area.” She found a perfect, logical excuse for her decision.
“I will have Arlan handle it.” She nonchalantly issued the command on the console, and an encrypted upgrade task was sent directly to the Space Station’s head of security.
The heavy stone hanging in Lilith’s heart finally landed.
Plan successful!
[Congratulations, the first act of the script was a complete success.] The system’s voice sounded at the right moment.
[Now, you just need to pray that the Antimatter Legion arrives on time, otherwise you will be the ‘defense network’ that needs to be ‘optimized’.] ‘Can’t you wish me something good!’ Lilith roared in her heart.
Just then, Herta walked toward her again.
“To prevent you from being disturbed by external ‘noise’ again…” She bent down and, amidst Lilith’s stunned reaction, scooped her up.
It was that standard, child-carrying posture.
“Hey!
What are you doing!
Put me down!” Lilith’s face flushed instantly, her hands and feet kicking in the air.
Herta completely ignored her struggle, carrying her toward the exit of the Laboratory.
“From today on, you will stay in my main control room.” Her declaration brooked no argument.
“That is the place with the strongest signal shielding in the entire Space Station.” This reason sounded like it was to protect her.
But from this matter-of-fact action, Lilith caught a whiff of something dangerous—the scent of “captivity.” The difficulty of this game was escalating crazily in a way she could never have anticipated.