Warhammer: The Time Traveler

Chapter 163 Is he dead? (Third update)
Within the data space, in a void composed of pure information flow, two consciousness projections stand facing each other.

Chen Yu maintained his chosen human form—a young Chinese man with black hair and black eyes, a calm face, and deep eyes that seemed to contain endless stars and cold logic.

Opposite him was the image of a woman, her long, fiery red hair swaying slightly in the data stream as if it were alive. This was Spider-Murphy, or rather, the appearance she chose to display, a form lingering in bygone days.

Chen Yu recognized the image.

The origin of this image was pieced together from scattered records in the database and fragmented information obtained from the shrine.

This iconic red hair was once Lucky Bartmos's favorite splash of color in the dull binary world.

He even knew that in the final stages of Barthemos's life, under the dual pressures of reality and the internet, this hacker god had revealed his true feelings to this image in his unique way, a mixture of clumsiness and absolute sincerity.

That was perhaps one of the few moments in Barthesmos's complex life that touched upon ordinary emotions.

However, that bright spot was ultimately cut off.

After Bartmouth died in the orbital bombardment, Spider Murphy cut off his long hair himself.

Subsequently, she assisted Johnny Silverhand in transforming the pain of losing his beloved and his endless rage into the lightning that detonated Arasaka Tower, and personally ended Arasaka Kei's digital soul.

Ultimately, this legendary female hacker also chose to abandon her fragile physical body, uploading herself completely to become another immortal being wandering the depths of cyberspace, a powerful, mobile AI.

At this moment, facing this unfathomable being whose technological power completely surpasses comprehension, Spider-Murphy's data core is on high alert.

She dared not be careless in the slightest, carefully controlling every subtle expression and energy fluctuation in her own projection.

She tentatively asked, the data stream encoded into clear language: "What...what is your purpose? What do you want to gain by repairing Lucky's body?"

Chen Yu did not answer immediately.

His black eyes, though human, held an inhuman scrutiny as he calmly gazed at the other person.

The brief silence seemed to be a final risk assessment and value calculation.

Then he spoke, his voice steady, but he posed a question that completely surprised Spider-Murphy: "Bartlemos, is he really dead?"

This question was like a sudden logic bomb, causing a brief disruption in Spider-Murphy's consciousness.

The data stream paused slightly, almost imperceptibly, and her long red hair, made of code, seemed to freeze for a moment as well.

"...What do you mean? Why are you asking that?" Her response was tinged with obvious confusion and wariness.

The death of Lucky Bartommos is a well-known fact, the trigger for the collapse of the Old Web, and one of the landmark events that ushered in the entire cyberpunk era.

Chen Yu's virtual avatar leaned forward slightly, as if observing the most subtle reactions of Spider-Murphy.

He explained, in a tone as if stating an experimental phenomenon: "When I examined his body, I found some interesting physiological traces. In the very short time before his vital signs disappeared, there were abnormally dense peaks of data activity in his cerebral cortex and neural interface areas, far exceeding the normal limits."

Its pattern...is closer to a reckless, all-out outpouring of information than a normal act of consciousness or external data interaction.

He paused briefly to allow the information to fully process before presenting his core hypothesis: "Based on this physiological evidence, combined with the circumstances of the physical blow he suffered and the impending disruption of his external connections, I have developed a probabilistic model. The model shows that there is a 73.4% probability that Barthemos, in the instant he realized physical death was inevitable, took an extremely dangerous gamble."

He may have attempted to forcibly upload or transfer his core consciousness, or at least most of his critical data, to the network at the time.

Faced with this earth-shattering speculation, the projection of Spider Murphy visibly trembled.

She was silent for a moment, as if searching through her vast and ancient memory bank.

Finally, she shook her head, her voice heavy with weariness and uncertainty: "I...I don't know. The situation was too chaotic. Orbital strikes, physical disconnections, and then the complete collapse of the old network..."

After that, no one, no being, ever clearly perceived Lucky's consciousness signals again.

Whether it was the newly rebuilt network within the Black Wall, the ruins of the original network where we 'exiles' wandered outside the Black Wall, or even any remaining nodes of reality... he seemed to have completely evaporated.

She raised her eyes, her gaze seemingly piercing through the data space, seeing the all-encompassing disaster: "His 'death,' or rather, the data storm brought about by his final desperate strike, directly tore apart the old network structure."

The initial network became a lawless place, data rules collapsed, and countless consciousnesses were lost and disintegrated within it.

He was the one who 'melted' the world we built together and ultimately lost control of.

As for himself... no one knows his whereabouts.

Perhaps he succeeded, but was lost in the turbulent flow of data; perhaps he failed, his consciousness vanishing completely during transmission; perhaps… he became part of the ruins themselves.

Her tone carried an indescribable sorrow, a lament for an era and for a person.

Upon hearing this answer, a rare hint of regret flashed across the human eyes of Chen Yu's virtual avatar.

Although faint and fleeting, it does exist.

Such an exceptional sample of consciousness, if it truly exists somewhere in some unknown form, would be far more valuable for research than a cold, lifeless corpse that can only provide physiological data.

But now, based on the testimony of Spider Murphy, who knows Bartmouth best and is also a top-tier web user, this possibility has become extremely slim.

He suppressed his emotions and regained absolute calm.

Since the greatest potential value may not exist, it is necessary to clearly inform the other party of the current situation and move on to the next step—resource utilization and decision-making.

“Based on your information and my further analysis, the probability of ‘Latchie Bartmos’ surviving as an independent and complete conscious individual is below the operational threshold.” Chen Yu’s voice regained its previous calmness. “Therefore, I need to be frank with you about the actual situation of the current project.”

He casually swiped his virtual finger to one side, and a screen of light unfolded instantly.

The screen clearly displays real-time images of the incubation chamber, along with constantly scrolling vital signs data.

The curves representing heartbeat and brainwave activity fluctuate regularly, presenting a near-perfect state of physiological stability.

(End of this chapter)