Ice skates forward, regardless of east or west.

1

The printer was still spitting out paper, and data sheets piled up around the control panel, recording every microsecond of that "miracle" that had just occurred—

Heart rate, blood pressure, electromyography, rotational angular velocity, impact force upon landing...

Ling Yaqin held the newly printed sheet, which contained all the parameters for Ling Wuwen to complete the four and a half quarters of an hour.

"Look here." Her finger pointed to a peak.

"0.27 seconds after takeoff, your core muscle power reaches 218% of the normal value. This is the result of the fetus exerting force synchronously. 0.05 seconds before landing, the abdominal pressure suddenly increases, causing the uterine muscles to contract spontaneously, providing cushioning for the fetus."

She looked up at Gu Xidong and Ling Wuwen, who were supporting each other on the ice, her eyes showing no admiration, only the calm of a data analyst:

"These data points are unpredictable by the model. This is because the model is based on a 'rational body,' while your bodies are 'performing beyond their normal limits' for the sake of your child. This is valuable data proving that maternal instinct can transcend physiological limits."

Gu Xidong pushed aside the A-2 that was supporting him and walked step by step toward Ling Yaqin.

With each step he took, his broken ribs felt like knives scraping against his lungs, but he didn't stop.

"You're saying this data is being transmitted in real time?" His voice was hoarse with pain. "Where is it being transmitted to?"

"The Northern City is just one of the receiving stations." Ling Yaqin folded the data sheet and put it in her pocket.

"The data was distributed via encrypted satellite links to seven locations: a Swiss lab, a Tokyo research institute, a server farm in Silicon Valley… and Beijing. The officials at the General Administration of Sport knew about the clubs; they just chose to see the data they wanted."

Ling Wuwen leaned against B-3 to steady himself, his left hand protecting his abdomen:

"So from beginning to end, all our training, experimentation, injuries... were just providing you with experimental samples?"

"Not entirely." Ling Yaqin paused for a moment,

"Initially, I did want to use data to refine the model. But watching you fall and get back up time and time again... I started to wonder: if you knew the data would be misused, would you still continue?"

She looked at the clones around her:

"They also want to know the answer. So they help you, record you, and observe you—observe the choices humanity makes in despair."

A-2 suddenly said, "You used us."

"I created you," Ling Yaqin corrected. "The creator has the right to use their creations."

"But we've started to think about it." B-3 stepped forward, standing shoulder to shoulder with A-2.

"We begin to choose. We begin... those who don't want to be used."

The other clones slowly gathered around.

Two hundred and thirty-seven people, their movements were still coordinated, but their eyes were no longer empty.

They looked at Ling Yaqin not as the creator, but as an object that needed to be examined.

For the first time, Ling Yaqin showed a wary expression, took a step back, and reached for the communicator at her waist.

"Don't move." Old Gun's gun was already raised. "We know you have a backup plan. But a bullet is faster than a signal."

"You can't kill me," Ling Yaqin said calmly.

"My consciousness has thirty-seven backups distributed globally. When this body dies, the next one will be activated."

"But those backups don't have these memories, right?" Gu Xidong walked up to her. "They didn't see us jump 4A, they didn't witness the clones begin to think independently, they didn't experience everything that happened in those eighteen minutes. This you—the you standing here right now—is truly dead."

Ling Yaqin fell silent. Her fingers tapped lightly on the communicator, as if she were calculating something.

"What do you want?" she finally asked.

"First, stop data transmission," Ling Wuwen said. "Sever all connections between this place and the outside world."

"It's not possible. Data transmission is automatic; the system will activate an emergency protocol upon detecting an interruption, directly destroying all local data."

"Then let's change the data." Gu Xidong looked at A-2, "Can you guys access the system?"

A-2 nodded: "We have maintenance privileges. But the system has a self-checking program; if it detects data tampering—"

"No need to tamper with it," the mouse suddenly spoke, "We can... corrupt the data."

Everyone looked at him.

2

"The data stream is clean because the acquisition environment is controlled," the mouse quickly explained.

"But what if we create 'noise'? Electromagnetic interference, or biosignal interference. This introduces a large amount of unremovable noise into the transmitted data, making it impossible for the receiver to distinguish between real and false data."

"If the interference is too strong, the system will identify it as an attack and trigger the destruction protocol," Ling Yaqin said.

"Then let's use just the right amount of interference." Gu Xidong looked at the clones.

"There are 237 of you, and each of you can generate a weak bio-electromagnetic field. What if all of you simultaneously emitted brainwaves at a specific frequency?"

The idea was crazy, but the clones understood it immediately.

Their brains have been modified so that they can theoretically control their own brainwave frequencies—this is part of their neural connection training.

"We need a guide signal," A-2 said, "a reference frequency that all clones can synchronize."

"Use the fetal heartbeat," Ling Wuwen said.

"Its current heart rate is 148 beats per minute, or 2.467 Hz. This frequency is very stable, and... all the clones have my and Gu Xidong's genes, so theoretically they should have a natural affinity for this frequency."

Ling Yaqin stared at Ling Wuwen's abdomen, her eyes filled with complex emotions: "You really intend to... use an unborn child as a biological beacon?"

"It's not 'using'." Ling Wuwen placed his hand on his abdomen.

"It's an invitation to participate. It was connected to the network from its embryonic stage, and perhaps now it's time for it to choose which side to stand on."

The plan was set. The risks were enormous—if it failed, all the data would be destroyed, the clones might suffer brain damage from overload, and the fetuses could also be affected.

The clones sat cross-legged on the ice, forming a huge circle.

Gu Xidong and Ling Wuwen were at the center, while Ling Yaqin was guarded by Lao Qiang beside the control panel. The mouse was being used to adjust the equipment, attempting to extract the fetal heart rate signal.

"Fetal brainwave response detected." The mouse hovered over the screen.

"It's... curious. The frequency begins to fluctuate slightly, as if it's exploring."

Ling Wuwen closed his eyes, trying to establish a connection with the life inside his womb.

She felt the baby move, felt the heartbeat, and also something more subtle—a nascent consciousness, like a newly sprouted seed exploring its boundaries in the darkness.

"Relax." Gu Xidong held her hand.

"Make it feel safe."

Suddenly, all the equipment emitted a slight humming sound at the same time.

"The signal is stable!" the mouse said in a low voice.

"The fetal heart rate has locked at 2.467 Hz, and the brainwaves have begun to output synchronized pulses!"

The clones on the innermost edge of the circle were the first to respond.

Their bodies trembled slightly, and their eyes began to emit a faint glow—the natural light emitted by the modified optic nerves under the influence of bioelectric currents.

Then the second and third circles... spread like ripples, and one by one the two hundred and thirty-seven clones entered a state of synchronization.

The data stream on the console started to show abnormalities.

Occasionally, one or two random characters will be inserted into the originally orderly array of numbers.

"The interference has begun." Ling Yaqin looked at the screen.

"But that's not enough. The system's self-checking program will treat these as transmission errors, automatically correct them, and resend."

"Then increase the interference intensity," Gu Xidong said.

A-2 opened his eyes, and his pupils had turned completely silvery-white—a sign of nerve overload.

"We're trying... but we need a stronger guiding signal. The fetal heartbeat... isn't strong enough."

Ling Wuwen took a deep breath: "What if I actively evoke emotions? Strong emotions produce specific brainwave patterns, right?"

"Theoretically possible, but too dangerous." The mouse shook its head. "You already have injuries, and emotional fluctuations could lead to—"

"Premature birth?" Ling Wuwen smiled wryly.

"If we don't have this child now, and the club uses this data to create an even more perfect killing machine, the child will be a slave even after birth. I'd rather it be born prematurely than become a tool."

She looked at Gu Xidong: "Help me."

Gu Xidong hugged her tightly, a hug so strong it felt like his ribs would break.

The pain made them both gasp, but in the pain, emotions that had been suppressed for three years began to surge.

3

"I'm thinking of Ling Wufeng," Ling Wuwen whispered in his ear, his voice trembling.

"Not as Ling Wuwen, but through Ling Wufeng's eyes. I saw his final moment—the blood was warm when the ice blade slashed his throat. What was he thinking? He was thinking, 'What will Gu Xidong do alone now?'"

Gu Xidong's tears flowed down without warning.

"I also remembered..." His voice broke.

"I started to think about why I'd been self-destructing for the past three years. It wasn't because of the injuries, it was because of guilt—why was it him who died? Why not me?"

"You are not a failure." Ling Wuwen cupped his face in her hands. "You are a survivor. Survival is not a sin."

Their emotions were like a flood that had burst its banks.

Sadness, anger, guilt, love—all these intense emotions translate into intense brainwave activity in the brain.

The device monitor emitted a piercing alarm: the two individuals' brainwave intensity exceeded the normal range by three times.

These brainwaves were transmitted to the fetus in the womb through Gu Xidong's hands and Ling Wuwen's body.

The fetus begins to move vigorously.

Ling Wuwen felt as if her abdomen was being burned by flames, and the pain almost made her faint.

"Fetal brainwave intensity surges!" the mouse exclaimed. "It's absorbing your emotional signals! It's... empathizing!"

On the console, the data stream was completely chaotic. The once orderly numbers had turned into a sea of ​​gibberish.

The system's self-check program kept issuing alarms and attempting to clean the data, but the cleaning speed could not keep up with the rate of contamination.

"The destruction protocol has been activated!" Ling Yaqin saw the red warning pop up on the screen.

"60 seconds left! If data integrity cannot be restored within 60 seconds, all local storage will be formatted!"

"Then let it be formatted," Gu Xidong said through gritted teeth. "As long as the contamination is strong enough, only junk data will be transmitted outside."

"But the clones..." B-3 opened her eyes; blood was flowing from her nostrils.

"We're overloaded...we can't last 60 seconds..."

Many clones have already shown serious reactions: convulsions, nosebleeds, and some have even started vomiting.

"Stop!" Ling Wuwen shouted, "Stop! The data is corrupted, that's enough!"

But the clones didn't stop. A-2 opened her eyes, her silvery-white pupils staring directly at her: "You said... a choice. We choose to continue."

Even if it means death?

"Even if it means death," all the clones said in unison.

Countdown: 30 seconds.

The clones fell one after another.

They lay on the ice, their bodies still twitching, but their brainwave signals had reached their peak.

Countdown: 10 seconds.

Ling Wuwen's abdominal pain reached its peak. She felt a warm liquid gushing out from her lower body—

My water broke. Premature labor has begun.

Countdown: 0 seconds.

The destruction protocol is executed.

All screens go black simultaneously. All devices stop working.

4

The frozen lake was plunged into complete darkness, with only the faint glow of the clones' eyes still shining.

Then, one by one, the emergency lights came on. Under the dim red light, the frozen lake looked like the entrance to hell.

Ling Yaqin was the first to rush to the control panel. She restarted the system, her fingers flying across the keyboard.

"Data transmission... has been interrupted." She stared at the screen.

"But the data stream in the last 30 seconds before the interruption... had a contamination rate of 97%. The receiver received unresolved noise."

She turned to look at the people who had fallen on the ice: "You succeeded."

Gu Xidong had no time to celebrate. Ling Wuwen groaned in his arms, her protective pants already soaked with amniotic fluid.

"The baby's coming!" he shouted. "The infirmary! Quickly!"

The clones struggled to their feet, formed a human chain, and carried Ling Wuwen to the infirmary.

Ling Yaqin remained at the control panel and continued operating.

After everyone left, she opened a hidden, encrypted interface.

A line of text appeared on the screen: [Contaminated data received. Analysis results: Contains high-value sentiment samples. Nirvana 3.0 model update initiated.]

She typed: [Confirm. The mother has entered labor mode. Should we activate the "Chick Protocol"?]

Reply: [Activate. Ensure prototype survival and retrieve newborns.]

Ling Yaqin closed the interface and walked towards the infirmary.

At the door, she stopped and took a small syringe out of her pocket—it contained a pale blue liquid, labeled: "Neural Connectivity Enhancer - For Childbirth".

When she pushed open the door, Ling Wuwen was screaming in agony. Gu Xidong held her hand, his face even paler than hers.

"Let me help." Ling Yaqin held up the syringe. "This can reduce pain and speed up labor."

"What is that?" Gu Xidong asked warily.

"Help." Ling Yaqin's eyes were unusually calm.

"I owe you. Those data just now... showed me things I'd never seen before. Maybe you're right—some things shouldn't be copied, shouldn't be improved."

She handed the syringe to Gu Xidong: "It's your decision."

Gu Xidong looked at Ling Wuwen's pained face, then at the syringe.

Ling Wuwen suddenly grabbed his hand, his nails digging into his skin: "Use..."

The syringe was inserted into Ling Wuwen's arm. A pale blue liquid was injected into his vein.

A few seconds later, her pained expression relaxed.

Her eyes became unusually clear as she looked at Gu Xidong:

"I saw him... Ling Wufeng. He was waiting for me on the ice. He said... this time I'll skate the first half, and you skate the second half."

Then her pupils dilated, and her body began its final contractions.

The child was born at 3:17 a.m.

It was a girl, her cries loud and clear, like a declaration in the silence of the frozen lake.

Gu Xidong cut the umbilical cord and handed the baby to Ling Wuwen. Her face was pale, but she smiled and gently touched the baby's cheek with her fingers.

"She's like you," Ling Wuwen said.

"Like you," Gu Xidong corrected.

Ling Yaqin stood by the bed, looking at the newborn.

Her gaze was so complex it was hard to decipher, and in the end she only said one sentence:

"Her brainwaves... are very special. Different from all the clones. Different from yours too."

She turned and left the infirmary. In the corridor, Ling Yaqin pressed the communicator:

"The Chick Protocol is activated. Target: Newborn. Execution time: Within 24 hours. Maternal survival is prioritized."

She paused, then added, "And... let's give the child a name. In the Northern City, she'll need one."

The communicator replied: "It's ready. The first natural node of Nirvana 3.0, codename: Gu Ling."

Ling Yaqin turned off the communicator and looked out the window at the sky that was gradually turning white.

In the infirmary, the baby suddenly stopped crying. She opened her eyes—the color of her eyes, under the red emergency light, appeared eerily silvery-white.