"Bt, we agreed to fight side by side, how can we say goodbye like this?"
With light steps, Bai Zhirou, her jade-white cheeks stained with two clear tear tracks, walked up to Bt-7274 and leaned her head against Bt’s arm, a wave of deep sorrow surging within her.
Their shared adventures had deepened their bond. Like islands behind enemy lines, they had faced life and death together, sharing fortunes and misfortunes. Bt was no longer a tool but Bai Zhirou’s closest comrade.
He was merely a robot, yet he had defied his own programming to save her.
When actions that should have stemmed from emotion were performed by pre-set programming, it made one truly appreciate that kind of overwhelming, inexpressible, yet lasting感动.
He always solved problems perfectly, reliable and full of a sense of security.
"Trust me," Bai Zhirou thought, her nose stinging again.
Even after hours of calming down, the scene of Bt throwing her out of the safety zone at the moment of completion still replayed in Bai Zhirou’s mind:
Under the intense radiation of the distorted space, the scenery was beautiful yet carried a unique brilliance of destruction.
"Goodbye, Cooper."
She had been prepared to face life and death with Bt, a final, poignant blow from the designer.
It made the player’s calm emotions instantly spiral out of control!
Perhaps some wouldn’t understand; it was just a robot, after all. A new one could be found, and the mission was almost perfectly completed. Why risk another life?
But only Cooper understood, no, only the players immersed in the experience understood. Bt was more than just a Titan. What warrior would abandon their comrade to survive alone?
The datapad flickered, a warrior with death in their heart bravely facing the inevitable, the charged energy about to be unleashed:
1. Link with Pilot
2. Uphold Mission
3. Protect Pilot
The flashing panel finally loaded. The familiar mechanical hand reached into the cockpit, the familiar grab, the familiar throw, and the familiar phrase, "Trust me."
As long as she closed her eyes, these scenes flashed through Bai Zhirou's mind.
She had no more tears, yet she felt suffocated.
Bai Zhirou remembered how she often forgot Bt was just a simple robot, chatting about random things with him, only to be left speechless by his AI's idiotic responses.
She remembered she wasn't like this before; otherwise, the outside world wouldn't have labeled her as the cold, aloof, high-ranking director. It was Bt who had influenced her, changed her.
Do androids dream of electric sheep? Bai Zhirou didn't know.
But tonight, in her dreams, she tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Her heart would forever remember the designation—Bt7242. The emotions calculated from those zeroes and ones were purer than those of some people.
She even endured immense grief to re-enter the game and forcibly roll back, hoping to find a way to save Bt, but it was all in vain.
It only made the already cracked wound tear open wider. At one point, she, who was so secretive about cheating, even entertained the thought of violating her principles—
She wished for a cheat to appear that could revive Bt to full health, even if just to spend a little more time with her, and then tell him again:
"I'm glad you made it back alive, Bt."
The hurried farewell had barely allowed for a few interactions with Bt. Rolling back again, every conversation brought tears to her eyes.
She remembered at the beginning of the game, Cooper had said, "The path to becoming a Pilot is still long, but when I become a Pilot, I hope to be worthy of the title."
Later, he finally became a worthy Pilot, but he forever lost his Titan. The Titan had fallen, but the 'sun' he left in the players' hearts still shone.
The blue light connecting to the Titan on her helmet suddenly flickered, receiving unknown radio waves—this might be the final hidden Easter egg from the development team.
Bai Zhirou had already recorded the audio and begun studying various Morse codes, determined to decipher the information in this Easter egg.
"If it's real, I hope you are safe, my machine brother."
Staring blankly at the ceiling, Bai Zhirou, who had broken her own principles and defied her biological clock for the first time, numbly closed her eyes at three in the morning.
Although the game was an indispensable part of her life, life went on. If she were to fall into despair because of it, it would go against Bt's original intention of saving her.
Bai Zhirou wanted to live a brighter, more confident life, to study, to strive to decipher the Easter egg as soon as possible, and to get closer to the one in her heart.
Tonight, for players who loved "Titanfall," it was destined to be a sleepless night.
Not just in the Dragon Country, as time passed, overseas players, despite the time difference, also began to gradually complete the game.
The result was predictable.
Damn it, I just wanted to experience the charm of VR games, and you stabbed me several times without a word.
Every stab drew blood; is this something a human would do?
The blunt overseas players couldn't sit still after exiting the game. A small number of players who had ordered the Bt-7274 simulation cockpit felt the full force of the developers' "knife family bucket"—a stab that shattered the fourth wall:
[Protocol Four: Throw Pilot]
When the Bt simulation cockpit uttered, "Trust me," the lucky overseas players burst into tears and fainted.
Their emotional expressions were far more unrestrained than those of the relatively reserved Dragon Country people.
*Crash! Crash! Crash!*
Players who didn't faint, if they were irritable, would directly take an axe from the warehouse and chop the $30,000 Bt-7274 simulation cockpit into scrap metal.
When the Bt head's sere component fell off, the core's internal speakers automatically triggered, and in Bt's voice, it said, "Hi, Jack."
The lucky and irritable player flew into a rage on the spot, immediately grabbing the M4 from the warehouse, ready to head to Lingjing's overseas headquarters to take out all the planners.
Unfortunately, Lingjing had no headquarters overseas.
There were only eight university proxies. The lucky and irritable players, after calming down, could only give up reluctantly and return to the internet to express their pain.
"For the United States! The real-life simulation cockpit not only throws players, but after being chopped up, it also says 'Hi, Jack.' Is this the trick of that infernal designer?"
Soon, his words resonated widely online:
"Lulaozei! You've done all sorts of evil!"
"Give me back Bt! Give me Bt!!"
"Bt, you asked me to trust you, and you broke it!"
"Hahaha, I beat the game, hahahahaha!!!"
"Crazy. Next one!"
"I'm very much looking forward to Tommy's reaction."
......
At this moment, many netizens realized that Tommy, the most emotionally expressive player on YouTube, was still fighting in "Titanfall" and had no idea what was about to happen.
Instantly, a crowd of curious onlookers flocked to Tommy's live stream.
......