The Decaying Dream of America: I Assemble Corpses and Confront Madness

Chapter 118 The Throne of Data: The Beginning of the Cold Oracle

After the Shadow finished reporting, the hidden door emitted a faint hissing sound and slowly opened inward.

Ava Sterling appeared at the entrance of the passageway. She didn't rush out, but paused for a moment, as if adjusting her resonance with the frequency of the room.

She wore a well-tailored dark jumpsuit, the material smooth and almost wrinkle-free, with no extra accessories, only a glimpse of her fair skin at her neck.

Her platinum blonde short hair was neatly tucked behind her ears, not a single strand out of place.

Her features were exquisite, appearing angular and sharp under the bright, cold light of the control center. Her eyes were like the surface of a frozen lake, clear yet unfathomable.

Each step was accompanied by a precise rhythm, so slow that the footsteps were barely audible. Yet, the precise and fluid dynamics inherent in her walking allowed Evelyn to instantly perceive her unique qualities.

This is an extreme form of self-discipline, or something deeper, a resonance with a kind of inhuman logic.

Arthur maintained a basic defensive stance, and his revolver never left his knee.

His gaze followed Ava's every subtle movement, trying to catch a trace of humanity in her.

But Ava's face betrayed no emotion. She walked to the holographic table, exchanged no pleasantries, and sat down directly, her movements fluid and seamless.

Her fingertips lightly touched the tabletop, and the holographic projection spread out like ripples. The close-up shot of Lin Zheng's painful struggle was replaced by a series of jumping, complex data streams and structural diagrams.

"You want to know Lin Zheng's situation, and all the details of the so-called 'Utopia Plan' that the American Dream Company has prepared for him."

Ava's voice was clear and crisp, each syllable sounding like a precisely calibrated machine synthesized, without trembling or warmth, like a cold yet efficient AI broadcasting data.

Evelyn tried to discern any trace of emotion in the voice, but only sensed a pure, inorganic objectivity.

She looked at the projection, and an immense mental pressure surged from the data, transcending mere violence or despair; it was a more sophisticated and distorted form of exploitation.

11

The "Ideal State Project" is an experimental project aimed at highly precise control and energy extraction from human free will. Its ultimate goal is to optimize the energy production model of the "American Dream" ritual, making it more efficient and stable.

Ava's words went straight to the point, instantly overloading Evelyn's brain.

This is not a conspiracy; it is a sophisticated system, a fundamental structure of the world that she had never imagined before.

"This project is led by Professor Finch, whose research focuses on the subconscious bridging area of ​​the brain," a region that has been shown to be the intersection of the individual and collective unconscious, and a core pathway through which ideology and narrative structures can profoundly influence thought.

On the holographic projection, a brain structure, modeled in three dimensions and as clear as crystal, began to flicker.

Among them, a deep blue area known as the "bridging region" is magnified, with intricate neural network optical paths rendered at a dizzying speed, resembling dense galaxies.

"Professor Finch believes that by targeting and implanting patterns in this area, it is possible to bypass human critical thinking and directly construct a utopian ideal at the subconscious level."

With a gentle swipe of her fingertip, Ava displayed a variety of beautiful scenes on the screen: a ranch under the sun, a warm family, a successful career, freedom and wealth—all the elements that constitute the core of the "American Dream" were presented with exquisite aesthetics.

"This is not a simple virtual reality. It's a utopian fantasy." It uses highly realistic sensory and psychological experiences to weave a flawless dream world for the participants.

She paused, her cold gaze sweeping across Arthur's tense face, as if scanning everything.

"In this utopia, the participants were given everything they desired: love, career, success, and recognition. Every effort they made was rewarded, and every wish was fulfilled."

Evelyn felt a churning in her stomach.

This is not temptation, it is deception, a form of torture that is deeper and more vicious than any physical torture.

It destroys a person's perception of reality and hope.

This experience of "extreme hope" puts the subjects' brains in a highly active state on a mental level, generating mental energy far exceeding that of ordinary people.

Ava tapped her fingertip on the table, and the data stream accelerated, instantly filling the screen with complex equations and psychological graphs.

"But the real purpose is to systematically and imperceptibly shatter this ideal state when the subjects' belief in utopia reaches its peak."

Arthur's fingers, gripping the revolver tightly, turned white from the force, his knuckles bulging in the dim light.

He had seen too much despair after hope was shattered, but he had never seen such a cold and meticulously planned "shattering".

Ava's voice finally carried a subtle hint—a tone that was both disdain and a statement of fact.

"At the extreme point of this process, the subject will instantly lose everything—all happiness, success, and..."

Love has always proven to be nothing but a false illusion, a conjured-up illusion based on the malice of others.

"The psychological energy difference between extreme hope and extreme despair" is far greater, more refined, and easier to capture than any traditional psychological trauma or pain.

She described this cruel experimental process in the most plain academic language, as if she were exploring some physical law, rather than subjecting a living person to mental torture.

"Lin Zheng's special characteristic lies in the unusual activity of his subconscious bridging area, which far surpasses the average level in his ability to receive and process information, as well as his capacity to map his external environment."

Ava swiped her fingertip again, and the model of Lin Zheng's brain on the light screen was magnified. Its "bridging area" was flashing a dazzling red light in a violent manner, and a black, crude oil-like viscous substance was spreading around it.

"This talent allows him to immerse himself more fully and deeply in utopian fantasies," and also enables him to generate the most powerful energy of despair when those fantasies shatter.

"At the same time, his consciousness fluctuation frequency resonated with some unproven ancient existence, leading Professor Finch to believe that the experimental data on Lin Zheng had extraordinary value and could be used to calibrate the energy harvesting parameters of the entire 'American Dream' ritual."

Evelyn's glasses slipped off her nose, but she forgot to straighten them.

All her scientific training and understanding of human nature were instantly shattered in the face of Ava's cold statements.

This act of using scientific methods to precisely quantify and exploit hope and despair is a complete subversion of her values.

She felt not anger, but a deep, chilling fear.

A fear of humanity itself, and of the ultimate direction of reason and science.

"Professor Finch was a fanatical scientist obsessed with eliminating the randomness of human free will."

Ava's self-light shone onto the pitch-black model of Lin Zheng's brain.

He believed that free will was the greatest destabilizing factor in civilization, and that through the Ideal State project, he could bring human thought, emotion, and choice into a predictable and controllable framework.

"Once successful, the American Dream will no longer be a grand, unconscious sacrifice, but a perfectly functioning, spiritual harvesting machine, and the value of humanity will be completely reconstructed."

Arthur gripped his revolver tightly, his knuckles making a slight cracking sound from the excessive force.

He had heard many stories about the ruthless practices of the "American Dream" company, and he had witnessed the shattering of countless personal dreams.

But all of those seem so primitive and superficial compared to the mental slaughterhouse that Ava is revealing now, which is designed through sophisticated science.

This is not merely exploitation; it is a contempt for and distortion of existence itself.

"The most terrifying thing about this project is that it can precisely simulate the generation and decay of human emotions."

Ava traced an arc on the light screen with her fingertip, and Lin Zheng's body structure diagram reappeared, but this time, the focus shifted to his right eye.

Professor Finch believed that Lin Zheng's right eye was able to be swallowed by the pitch-black chaos because his bridging zone was too tightly connected to the utopian vision, causing the shattering of the utopian vision to be directly reflected in his physical form.

"That darkness is a cognitive collapse caused by information overload, and also a reverse penetration from high-dimensional information into low-dimensional matter after a momentary critical point in the mental potential energy difference."

Evelyn's fingertips rested coldly on the screen of the portable encrypted signal analyzer, which was currently completely black.

She imagined the torment Lin Zheng was suffering, which was no longer physical pain, but a scene of his free will being completely distorted and his inner utopia collapsing.

That pain was far more profound than any knife cut or axe stroke she could have imagined.

Arthur's chest heaved violently, each breath filled with suppressed rage.

His sense of justice, the pitiful fairness he upheld with Arthur's revolver in the streets and alleys, was now being mocked like never before.

The law is dead.

He once believed that even if the law was dead, justice would still live on in people's hearts.

But now, justice is about to be precisely calculated, designed as a form of energy, and utterly exploited.

He felt a chill run from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.

Under this mechanism, the "American Dream" company is no longer a simple corrupt institution, but a living monster parasitizing civilization.

They exploit humanity's most beautiful desires, transforming them into the darkest energies to maintain a grander, more malevolent order.

"Through Lin Zheng's talent, Professor Finch hopes to establish a model of a dream energy field."

Ava continued speaking, but Evelyn was starting to have trouble hearing her clearly.

Her faith in science is crumbling.

She spent her entire life pursuing truth, seeking the logic and laws governing the material world.

At this moment, something from a non-scientific field that she despised overturned all her understanding with an overwhelming logic.

Her brain struggled, trying to find any scientific anchor that could explain the scene before her.

But the pitch-black chaos and the expression of someone whose soul had been instantly ripped away reminded her that this place had already transcended the realm of science.

Ava stood up. Instead of looking at Arthur or Evelyn, she walked slowly toward a wall in the control center, where dozens of tightly closed hatches were embedded.

"You might think I'm telling a horror story, but for the American Dream Corporation, this is merely an experiment, a necessary measure to ensure the stable operation of its core agreement—the Founding Agreement."

Her voice echoed in the hall, each word carrying an undeniable calmness and an extreme objectivity.

It was as if she were completely detached from the situation, merely a broadcaster of the truth.

Arthur's breathing became heavier.

"The covenant of the nation?" He spoke for the first time, his voice low and hoarse.

Ava's figure remained in front of the wall, her slender fingertips lightly touching an indicator light next to a hatch, which immediately turned from green to red.

"Yes, the covenant of the nation." Her voice was steady, as if she were reciting a passage from a textbook.

"This is an older and more binding agreement than the federal constitution, and it is the cornerstone of this country's existence and prosperity."

"It binds the fate of this continent to an ancient being that sleeps deep underground."

"And the American Dream is the grand and continuous sacrificial ritual necessary to maintain this covenant."

Arthur's eyes widened suddenly, and he stared stiffly at Evelyn.

Evelyn's face was completely drained of color.

She got it.

Everything she knew and everything she believed in was a lie.

This is even more despairing than being ruled by an evil organization.

Because this is an existential deception rooted in the deepest recesses of civilization.

Ava ignored their shock; her gaze seemed to pierce through the cold walls, revealing something deeper.

"Lin Zheng, as an occasional anomaly in this sacrificial ritual," possesses the talent to understand "corpses" and can perceive the underlying connection between "flesh and blood" and "reason." He should have been immediately eliminated by the company.

"But Professor Finch preserved him, and he became a key figure in the Ideal State project."

Her gaze shifted to the two of them, a hint of barely perceptible provocation in her eyes.

"Now, do you still think you can rescue him on your own?"

Ava's voice was like a cold, sharp blade, slicing through the last remaining pitiful, struggling glimmer of hope and reason in their hearts.

She seemed to see right through all their hesitations and weaknesses, showing no mercy whatsoever.

Arthur stopped breathing completely.

He felt a profound sense of powerlessness, a powerlessness that transcended anger and fear, a despair that reached the very depths of his soul.

Evelyn opened her mouth as if to say something, but no sound came out.

Can she persuade a fanatical scientist to stop?

Can she use her knowledge to fight against a system that uses the entire nation as its altar?

Her science seemed so small and so helpless at this moment.

She looked at Ava with a complex gaze, a mixture of bewilderment at being shattered by the truth and a lingering fear of this powerful and ruthless control.

Ava didn't say anything more. She turned around and walked to a row of servers, lightly touching a glowing button with her fingertip.

The data streams on dozens of screens accelerated instantly, with dense numbers and curves jumping at an even faster pace.

All of this seemed to revolve silently around Ava, this quiet core.