Location: Garipan Central Hospital, Bio-Repair Sector
Date: January 30, 2511
In his trance-like state, Jack felt as though his eyes were veiled by darkness. Only his sense of smell remained preternaturally sharp—a fabulous, orchid-like fragrance mixing with the sweet scent of the bio-nutrient fluid, washing over him.
A pair of soft hands roamed across his skin. They slid from his neck, over his broad, thick chest, and traveled further down, igniting a wildfire in his blood with every touch.
The fat man’s "little brother," previously dormant, woke like a prehistoric beast emerging from hibernation, rearing its head abruptly. Jack felt himself suspended in the warm solution, his entire body relaxed, save for his lower half, which was being wantonly teased by a hand that felt cool, delicate, and maddeningly precise.
Driven by instinct, Jack tightened his arms around the tender body before him. Like a starving man drowning at sea, he greedily devoured the snowy skin, feasting his lips upon her. He latched onto those two proud, perky peaks, suckling hungrily, while the muffled sound of a woman’s moan—repressed, satisfied, yet tinged with a hint of pleading—drifted into his ears.
Then, a warmth encompassed him—tight, wet, and utterly consuming. Jack bobbed and drifted in the rippling pale green liquid, feeling as if his very soul were being sucked out of him.
A pair of plump arms wrapped around his neck. Hot breath beat against his ear, accompanied by ragged, desperate gasps. The fat man hesitated no longer. He sprinted towards the finish line, thrusting hard, churning the fluid around them into a frenzy. When he finally reached the peak, a long, satisfied sigh exploded right next to his ear.
Jack’s eyes snapped open, and he ripped the blindfold from his face.
The pale green nutrient fluid was sloshing over the edge of the pod with their movements, dripping—drip, drip, drip—onto the floor. Nova, her face flushed a deep crimson and her golden hair plastered wetly to her cheeks, was slumped softly against his chest.
They were still inside the hospital’s bio-gene repair pod.
Nova’s body was still tightly connected to his. That bone-eroding ecstasy nearly made Jack forget how to breathe.
"You..." Jack started to speak, but his mouth was instantly sealed by Nova’s lips. It was a kiss that tasted of blood—fierce, possessive, and desperate.
[Scene Break]
A long time later, the fat man, his footsteps now floaty and weak, was supported by Nova as they walked out of the medical pod.
In the adjacent VIP ward, Jack lay sprawled on the bed like a pile of mud, limbs spread-eagled. Nova, wearing a loose-fitting patient gown, lay on her side next to him. Her finger traced idle circles on the fat of his chest.
"Fatty," Nova’s voice was soft, carrying the laziness of the aftermath, but also a trace of lingering fear. "Don't do something that dangerous again, okay?"
It was the first time Jack had ever heard the "Mech Queen" speak in such a pleading tone.
He stroked her damp golden hair, smiling helplessly. "If I didn't go, the Butcher would have come back for Cyril. He was my teacher. If the Butcher knew I was Cyril's student... if I didn't hunt him down, he would have come for me eventually. Or for you. Or for Nya... anyone close to me."
He held Nova's hand, his gaze deepening. "When that happened, how would I protect you all if I were alone?"
Nova fell silent. She knew he was right. In this chaotic world, escape was temporary; only by eliminating the threat could one truly survive.
She rolled off the bed and picked up an electronic tablet from the side table, her eyes regaining some of their scientific fanaticism.
"Since you insist on risking your life, you need decent gear. Look at this—I redesigned a solo power armor unit for you. Smaller and more agile than 'Thor,' specifically customized for your... 'shameless' tactics."
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Jack took the tablet, swiping rapidly through the 3D holographic projection with one hand.
[Project Codename: RONIN]
[Type: Solo Exoskeleton Armor]
- Height/Weight: 2.5 meters / 250kg
- Power Core: 1.2MW p-B11 Micro-Fusion Reactor (12h endurance, 1h full combat power)
- Skeleton: Liquid SiC-Graphene Fluid Skeleton (Reallocates structural strength within 0.3s)
- Strength Enhancement: 400% (Base human standard)
- Armor System: "Scale-Array"
- Hexagonal Honeycomb Plating (5cm x 5cm modules), capable of rapid local replacement.
- Material: 1.5cm Graphene-Ceramic Composite.
- Protection: Immune to light plasma weaponry; resists medium-caliber kinetic rounds.
- Stealth System: Thermal Signal Suppression + Active EM Shielding + Optical Camouflage Coating.
- Utility: Built-in micro-welder, electromagnetic lock breaker, multi-function mechanical tentacles.
As Jack scrolled through this exquisite killing machine, he held the tablet above his head, frowning as he inspected it from the bottom up.
Nova watched him, puzzled. "Fatty, what are you looking at? Checking for weak points?"
Jack lowered the tablet and looked at Nova with a dead-serious expression.
"My Queen, the design philosophy, the weaponry, the protection... It's all top-tier. But... there is a fatal flaw."
"What?" Nova immediately tensed up, pulling out her stylus, ready to take notes.
"How do I take a leak?"
Nova froze.
Jack pointed to the crotch area of the schematic, looking aggrieved. "This thing is wrapped up like an iron can. Do you expect me to wear adult diapers? Or shove a catheter up there? That little brother down there is your precious treasure—do you really have the heart to make it suffer?"
As he spoke, the damn fat man deliberately pulled open his waistband to check on "it."
Nova was struck dumb for half a second by this thunderous question. Her face went from pale to red in an instant—a flush of shame and indignation.
"You damn fatty!"
A pair of hands precisely pinched the softest chunk of fat on Jack’s waist and rotated it one hundred and eighty degrees clockwise.
"Auugh—! Mercy, my Queen! I'm thinking from a tactical perspective! When nature calls, it calls!"
The two of them laughed and wrestled in the ward, as if the war and slaughter outside had nothing to do with them.
Finally, the fat man’s stomach let out a thunderous protest. He had been soaking in nutrient fluid since yesterday, and after a high-intensity "duo workout" just now, his chest was practically sticking to his back with hunger.
They went to the hospital’s high-end restaurant and found a secluded corner. Jack ordered a super-sized T-bone steak, while Nova ordered a vegetable salad.
As Jack tore into the beef like a starving wolf, Nova elegantly forked a leaf of lettuce, watching him, seemingly hesitating about something.
"Fatty," she finally spoke. "Last time I ran diagnostics on Thor's database, I found a specific line of code... or rather, a formula. It was very strange."
Jack asked, his mouth full of meat, mumbling, "What formula?"
Nova tapped on her tablet, swiped a few times, and handed it to him.
On the screen displayed a simple yet eerie mathematical expression:
C? = K?(ΔΦ) = ‖ΔΦ‖L?
Jack stopped chewing. Although he was a mechanic, he possessed an innate intuition for mathematics. This formula... didn't look like control code. It looked like a law of physics.
"This is weird," Jack swallowed the beef, frowning. "I've never seen this kind of operation method."
Nova nodded, her expression grave. "Yes. I ran a reverse analysis using the photonic computer in Lab 7. The annotated meaning of this code is: Consciousness is, in essence, a collapse operation of difference."
"Consciousness? Operation?" Jack put down his knife and fork. "Doesn't a person have consciousness from birth? Treating it as an operation... I've only seen that in sci-fi novels about Strong AI."
"Fatty, if consciousness really is just an 'operation'..." Nova paused, looking at the formula in her hand, her eyes flickering with a certain dread. "Then humans are not the only beings capable of possessing consciousness. Any system complex enough, as long as it satisfies this formula, can generate a 'soul'."
"You mean... aliens?" Jack scoffed. "It's the year 2510. Humanity has spread across the galaxy, and we haven't found a single ghost shadow. The probability of meeting a ghost is higher than meeting an alien."
"No, Fatty. Think about it." Nova stared into his eyes. "Do you remember last time in the jungle? How you dodged that sneak attack from the 'Ghost' mech?"
Jack instantly recalled that moment.
The Empire's low-ridge jungle. Dawn. He had just fired a cannon shell; his old force was spent, and a new force hadn't yet been generated. Thor's alarm suddenly blared. His hand had just left the controls; he hadn't had time to react.
But Thor moved on its own.
It executed a sequence of flawless evasion maneuvers, precise as an algorithm, dodging that fatal blow.
While he was still recalling the cold sweat of that moment, Nova continued. "Later, I did a detailed black-box diagnosis. I found that Thor's data stream showed an abnormal peak at that moment. That wasn't a pre-set program response... It was as if, in that split second, it 'saw' what was behind it, and felt 'fear'."
Nova's voice dropped very low, as if afraid of being overheard.
"In that moment, Thor's data overflowed every limit I had set. Just like... just like the formula you're looking at."
C? = K?(ΔΦ) = ‖ΔΦ‖L?
Jack looked at the tablet again. That cold formula seemed to transform into an eye, silently staring back at him.
Suddenly, he felt the delicious beef in his mouth turn tasteless.