The green in her mind vanished as suddenly as it had appeared.
The shrill roar of the engine cut off abruptly.
Ahead in the air, the onrushing hovercar sputtered and died mid-flight.
In the silence, everything around seemed to slow down. Pei Ran watched as the hovercar, propelled by inertia, still hurtled toward the platform, but with its engine dead, it could no longer maintain altitude and arced downward.
Boom—
A deafening crash.
The hovercar missed the platform, slamming into the building's exterior walls just a few meters below the station. Like a stunned bird, the navy-blue vehicle flipped and spun, plummeting into the unfathomable void between the skyscrapers.
Not far away, the little yellow car escaped upward, darting into the gap between two buildings amid the chaos and disappearing. The remaining security bureau hovercars paid no heed to their fallen comrade, howling in pursuit.
The long-haired girl, pressed tightly against the door, froze for several seconds before finding her voice.
"My... God!"
She cautiously inched toward the platform's railing and peered down.
"Luckily it stalled out of nowhere, or we'd both be dead."
She let out a confused "Huh" and glanced around.
"Did the power go out? Or did that car take out some wires?"
The neon signs and billboards that had been blazing on the building exteriors had all gone dark, as if the electricity had been cut. The floating virtual station signs had vanished too, even the iris-scanning virtual screen by the building entrance was gone.
It was as if the entire area's power supply had been cut off in an instant.
The girl let out a breath. "We're so lucky."
It wasn't luck.
Pei Ran knew that everything that had happened in that split second—the stalled hovercar, the blacked-out billboards—was likely connected to the vision in her mind.
That strange word "stop".
The moment the character fully formed, it was as if an invisible hand had hit pause on all the energy and power around them.
The green light vision felt like some extraordinary ability, perhaps linked to this sudden translocation.
Pei Ran focused, trying to summon the green light again.
But it was nowhere to be found, having vanished without a trace.
The long-haired girl, unaware of the anomaly, bent down. In her hurry, the large cardboard box she'd been holding had fallen, spilling its contents across the ground.
"These are all my things from the office. Once you quit, you have to take everything with you."
She carefully lifted a potted plant, gathering the spilled soil. The plant was only twenty to thirty centimeters tall, with a lush cluster of emerald-green leaves, so perfect it looked artificial—clearly a beloved treasure that had been meticulously cared for every day.
Pei Ran also knelt down, helping her pick things back into the box.
Besides the potted plant, there were various snacks, towels, a toothbrush, even a pillow and a blanket. It was as if she'd made the office her home.
As she picked up items, the long-haired girl studied Pei Ran.
"You're Pei Ran from the technical department, right? I'm Ai Xia from finance. You came to me for reimbursements before—you probably don't remember."
Pei Ran said nothing.
It seemed the original owner shared her name, also called Pei Ran.
Ai Xia asked, "I saw you at HR this morning. You're quitting too, right? How come you didn't bring anything with you?"
Pei Ran was empty-handed, wearing a black short coat, a gray plaid scarf, and a pair of black leather gloves—looking ready to make a quick getaway at a moment's notice.
Fragments of memory flashed through Pei Ran's mind, presumably from half an hour earlier—
The company's HR had pushed over a notice: "Pei Ran, your performance has always been good, but unfortunately, your R&D department will be laying off over seventy percent of its staff this time..."
Pei Ran sorted through her thoughts.
It seemed the two of them were employees at the same company in this building, both losing their jobs today and heading home.
She replied, "Yeah. Got laid off."
Ai Xia, as if finding a kindred spirit, said, "All because of those AIs. Of course bosses prefer using AIs—who can compete with them? They don't need to eat or sleep, working 24/7, 365 days a year, pulling all-nighters like it's nothing..."
She sighed. "...Experts keep saying AI is a revolution that'll skyrocket productivity, but from where I stand, it'll just let bosses use AIs to make a killing while regular people fight over the scraps of remaining jobs. The rich get richer, the poor get poorer..."
She neatly rearranged the clutter in the box, talking to herself, when she suddenly noticed Pei Ran wasn't responding.
She looked up to find Pei Ran with her hands in her pockets, tilting her head back and squinting.
"What are you doing?" Ai Xia asked.
A strange thought crossed Ai Xia's mind—
Could she be... sunbathing?
The idea struck her as absurd. With the smog this thick, you could barely make out the sun. Who would sunbathe like this?
"Nothing." Pei Ran lowered her gaze, closing her eyes briefly.
A faint circular glow lingered on her eyelids, slow to fade.
In her original world, Pei Ran had lived in a sunless bunker since birth.
The bunker was where humans hid, built deep underground, connected to settlements by rat-hole-like tunnels. People scurried through the dim passageways, rarely getting the chance to go above ground. The surface world meant danger, where lives could be lost in an instant—not somewhere many dared venture.
It had been four or five months since Pei Ran had last been above ground, or seen the sun.
This was a world where you could see the sun every day.
Not just the sun, but wind too.
A light breeze lifted the hair by her ears—air currents from passing vehicles. A large hoverbus hovered in front of the platform, and the glass barrier slid open silently.
The hoverbus was old, covered in grime and scratches, but surrounded by dazzling purple light strips. The driver's console was lit up, but there was no one at the wheel.
The bus had arrived.
"My ride's here," Ai Xia said. "My home's at the western terminus of this route—it'll take over an hour to get there... Can we connect? Keep in touch?"
Ai Xia rolled up her sleeve.
On her wrist, she wore a black, ribbed bracelet about a finger's width, resembling an elastic hair tie, fitting snugly around her wrist with a small, hard square the size of a fingernail attached.
She tapped it, frowning. "Huh? Is the bracelet broken?"
The surroundings suddenly brightened.
The neon signs and virtual station displays all lit up, as if power had been restored.
At the same time, Ai Xia's bracelet responded—a virtual screen about the size of a book popped up, thin and translucent like an ethereal illusion, hovering in the air before her.
Ai Xia let out a breath. "There we go."
She tapped it a few times, bringing her bracelet close to Pei Ran's wrist.
Pei Ran saw that between her left sleeve and glove, she was wearing a similar-looking black bracelet.
With a soft chime, a small virtual screen appeared before Pei Ran:
[Confirm adding contact Ai Xia?]
Pei Ran clicked confirm.
Ai Xia then hurried onto the bus with her cardboard box, pausing briefly before boarding to hold her eye up to a virtual screen marked "Iris Scan" by the door.
"See you later—"
The bus, carrying the faint echo of Ai Xia's voice, zoomed upward and departed.
No sooner had it left than another bus arrived, displaying "F306" on its front. Pei Ran vaguely knew this should be her bus home.
Following Ai Xia's example, she successfully scanned her iris, boarded, and found an empty seat.
The bus was warm, with heating blowing hot air. It was fairly crowded, everyone looking tired—some couldn't stay awake, nodding off.
Next to her sat a middle-aged woman in office attire, her blonde hair dull as straw, wearing a crumpled suit, also dozing with half-closed eyes. It was unclear if she'd left work early, been laid off like Pei Ran, or was on her way to meet a client.
A bright advertising screen hovered at the front of the bus, looping an ad for a real estate development called "Golden Sunshine". In the neatly decorated apartments, entire families smiled broadly, while the jingle played cheerfully:
"This is our beautiful home—"
"Carrying our dreams—"
"Where my heart finds peace, happiness abides"
"沐浴 in golden sunshine together—"
Someone lifted their eyelids, glanced at the ad, yawned, and let their eyes droop again.
Only Pei Ran sat upright, silently scanning the entire carriage.
It was good.
Vehicles flew freely under the sun, not shot down by artillery fire. Everyone on the bus was healthy, no one missing limbs. Everyone was alive and safe.
And presumably, would still be safe in half an hour.
Tomorrow, next month, even next year—they'd continue living safely.
This was a safe new world, a wonderful dream home, exceeding all the dreams Pei Ran had cherished since birth.
In this beautiful world, the free bus weaved through gaps, speeding forward, darting through the gray steel jungle of neon lights. Soon it reached the next stop—a major station—where many people boarded, squeezing together in the narrow carriage.
Just after leaving the station, the bus suddenly braked sharply, hovering midair.
Sleeping passengers hit their heads, standing ones stumbled—curses erupted throughout the carriage as people looked out the windows, confused.
"Why stop here? This isn't a station."
The bus doors suddenly opened, a blast of cold air rushing in, cutting through the stuffy human odors inside.
Along with the cold wind came not a person, but a floating sphere.
It was silver, about the size of a basketball, gliding silently into the carriage.
The cursing stopped instantly.
On the silver sphere were printed several white letters: DOD.
The man behind Pei Ran muttered softly, "It's a Federal Security Agent."
The words "security agent" acted like a switch, triggering fragments of the original owner's memories in Pei Ran's mind.
"Agents" weren't human—they were specialized artificial intelligences, or AIs.
It was said that recently, the Federal Department of Defense and Security had officially launched a new AI to 全权 handle and coordinate all federal defense and security affairs, replacing human experts.
This must be it.
It looked entirely non-human, bearing no relation to the "human" in "agent".
In the center of the metal sphere was a black section, like an abyssally dark eye, rotating slightly as it 冷漠 ly scanned every passenger in the carriage.
It floated in the air, gliding slowly down the aisle. People automatically squeezed themselves flatter to make space, no one daring to meet its gaze, all looking down.
The silver sphere drew closer, stopping less than a meter from Pei Ran.
The "eye" rotated slightly.
The woman sitting next to Pei Ran tensed, clutching her handbag tightly, her face pale.
The sphere's "eye" flashed.
A gunshot rang out.
The woman next to her seemed to lose all support, her head lolling forward, her claw-like, convulsing hands releasing her handbag.
Several droplets splashed onto Pei Ran's cheek.
Pei Ran wiped at it—her glove's fingertips dampened, and a faint metallic scent reached her nose—it was blood.
Passengers froze for a moment, then screams erupted throughout the carriage.
The black eye on the sphere rotated again, this time toward Pei Ran.
Pei Ran didn't scream or move. She knew it was "looking" at her.
That black eye, like an oversized pupil, seemed unfocused yet able to see everything.
It stared at Pei Ran, lingering longer than on anyone else—even longer than on the woman it had just shot.
Pei Ran stared back, motionless.
Its attack came from a small red dot about a centimeter above the "eye". Pei Ran had seen the red dot flash briefly during the attack.
It fired too fast to dodge.
Now that red dot was aimed directly at her—it was the posture of an execution.
She could only gamble it wouldn't shoot her without reason.
Pei Ran fixed her gaze on that red dot, tensing her entire body, rapidly calculating the likelihood of it attacking.
After several seconds, the "eye" suddenly turned away.
A calm, indifferent male voice emanated from the metal sphere: "Passengers need not panic. Federal Security Agents are conducting routine operations."
It referred to having just killed someone as "conducting routine operations".
The voice paused, then continued: "I can assure you that every law-abiding citizen is absolutely safe."