Silence filled the underground station.
The screen remained black.
Her father's final words still echoed through the room.
You are not responsible for saving the world.
I only ever wanted you to live.
Xiaoyu stood motionless.
For years she had searched for answers.
For years she had chased memories.
For years she had wondered why everyone was hunting her.
Now she finally knew.
And somehow—
the truth felt heavier than every lie.
The architect slowly stepped forward.
"No."
His voice was calm.
Controlled.
But there was desperation beneath it now.
A desperation he could no longer hide.
"He loved you."
Nobody argued.
Because it was true.
The architect pointed toward the black screen.
"But love doesn't change reality."
The red markers on the world map continued blinking.
Hundreds.
Thousands.
Warnings scattered across the globe.
The station seemed darker now.
Smaller.
Like the weight of the future itself had settled underground with them.
The architect looked directly at Xiaoyu.
"Your father wanted you to be happy."
His eyes hardened.
"I want humanity to survive."
Silence.
Then Lu Shen stepped between them.
"Stop."
The single word echoed sharply.
The architect laughed.
"Why?"
His gaze shifted toward Lu Shen.
"Because you're afraid of what she'll choose?"
Lu Shen didn't answer.
And that silence was answer enough.
The architect smiled.
"Exactly."
Another tremor shook the station.
Dust drifted from above.
The map flickered.
Several red markers suddenly changed color.
Red.
Yellow.
Red.
Yellow.
The computer began processing new information automatically.
A warning appeared.
CASCADE PROBABILITY INCREASE DETECTED.
The architect immediately turned.
His expression darkened.
"No..."
The terminal generated another prediction.
Probability: 98.2%
Even higher than before.
The station fell silent.
Then Xiaoyu noticed something strange.
The architect wasn't looking victorious.
He looked worried.
Actually worried.
The realization unsettled her.
Because monsters were supposed to enjoy disaster.
Yet he looked terrified of it.
"You're scared."
The words slipped out before she realized it.
The architect looked toward her.
For a moment—
the mask disappeared.
And she saw the truth.
Not evil.
Not madness.
Fear.
Pure fear.
Fear of failing.
Fear of being right.
Fear of watching the future happen exactly as predicted.
The sight shook her more than any revelation.
Because suddenly—
he looked human.
Broken.
Obsessed.
But human.
Another alarm suddenly sounded.
Different from before.
Short.
Urgent.
The terminal flashed.
UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS DETECTED.
Everyone froze.
"What now?" Lu Shen muttered.
The system displayed a new message.
External connection established.
The architect's face went white.
Impossible.
Someone else had accessed the system.
The map flickered violently.
Then every screen in the station switched at once.
The world map vanished.
The documents vanished.
The warnings vanished.
Replaced by a single image.
A face.
A man.
Young.
Unknown.
Watching through a live video feed.
The entire station froze.
The man smiled.
"Hello."
Nobody recognized him.
Except the architect.
The architect staggered backward.
"What?"
For the first time since Xiaoyu had met him—
he looked completely shocked.
The young man smiled wider.
"Been a long time."
The architect's breathing became uneven.
"No."
The response came instantly.
Disbelieving.
Impossible.
The young man tilted his head slightly.
"You look disappointed."
The station fell silent.
Xiaoyu looked between them.
"You know him."
The architect didn't answer.
The young man did.
"Oh, he knows me."
His smile vanished.
"And he spent twenty years making sure nobody else would."
Cold spread through the room.
The young man's eyes shifted toward Xiaoyu.
Then Lu Shen.
Then the archive.
Then back again.
As if assessing everything at once.
Finally—
he looked directly into the camera.
Directly at the architect.
And spoke six words.
"You forgot about Subject Zero."
The world stopped.
Lu Shen froze.
The architect froze.
Even the remaining armed men looked stunned.
Subject Zero.
The title echoed through the station.
The architect's face lost all color.
Because according to every record—
Subject Zero didn't exist anymore.
The young man smiled.
And suddenly—
everyone realized the nightmare wasn't over.
It had only just begun.