New Dragon Academy - Dormitory Sector 9


    (21:47 Local Time)


    The Guardian 3000 security drones tracked our every move with photoreceptor eyes glowing hellhound-red. Butterfly flashed her neural-implant clearance at the lead unit. "Corporate override code: BlackLotus-9. We’re retrieving a critical asset."


    The drone’s synthesized growl vibrated my molars. [Verification complete. Lethal protocols suspended]


    "Asset?" I hissed as we entered the crumbling concrete hive. "She’s not inventory!"


    Butterfly adjusted her tactical thigh holster. "Semantics. Your father’s orders."


    The stairwell reeked of mildew and fried circuitry. Twelve flights up, my augmented lungs burned. Butterfly paused at a flickering holo-sign: LEVEL 9 - QUARANTINE ZONE (SCHOLARSHIP WING)


    "Charming," she muttered, kicking aside a cockroach the size of her palm. "Last surveillance update shows Chu Rong’s room hasn’t scanned active in 72 hours. Thermal’s cold."


    My knuckles whitened on the rusted railing. "Then why the theatrics with security?"


    "Because..." She tapped her temple where subcutaneous LEDs pulsed. "...whatever happened here wasn’t natural."


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    Dorm 911 (Designated Containment Site)


    The door disintegrated under Big K’s plasma-assisted knuckles.


    Inside:


    A twin-sized cryopod crusted with biogel residue.


    Neural interface cables snaking into cracked wall ports.


    And on the desk – a CrimsonRose cosplay wig draped over a [Zero] gaming rig still running diagnostics.


    Butterfly’s gloved finger traced the cryopod’s frost patterns. "Modified MedPod-7. Someone’s been juicing her with combat stims between sessions." She held up a shattered ampoule. "Military-grade adrenaline cocktails. Nasty stuff."


    I collapsed into the desk chair, the holoscreen flickering to life.


    Last Login: 72:14:22 ago


    Final Transmission: <<ERROR: NEURAL FEEDBACK SPIKE DETECTED>>


    Location Data: Dragon Valley Sector (Coord: 39°52''N 116°23''E)


    The chair arm cracked under my grip. "She wasn’t just playing. They turned her into a goddamn beta tester!"


    Butterchiek’s comms chirped. She palmed the encrypted channel. "Sir, we’ve got a Code Eclipse situation. Recommend extraction before—"


    The lights died.


    Outside, the Guardian drones howled in unison – a sound no machine should make.


    Ephemeral Glitch (22:03)


    The walls bled static.


    Chu Rong materialized in the doorway, her form flickering between teenage student and crimson-armured avatar. "You shouldn’t have come," both versions spoke in dissonant harmony.


    I reached out. My hand phased through her holographic ribs.


    "Listen!" Her eyes bled fractal code. "Dragon Valley isn’t a zone. It’s a filter. They’re using the game to—"


    The apparition shattered.


    Big K’s augmented roar shook dust from the ceiling as black-suited figures rappelled through windows. Butterfly’s plasma pistol whined to life. "Time’s up, pretty boy! We’re blowing this—"


    The last thing I saw before the flashbang detonated was Chu Rong’s cryopod display:


    SUBJECT STATUS: NEURAL GHOST (97% SYNCHRONIZATION)