Too Late to Regret: The Billionaire’s Unwanted Ex のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 61 - チャプター 70

The Zenith touched down in the Sea of Tranquility with the grace of a falling feather. There was no dust cloud; the obsidian soil of the moon had been magnetized, held in a perfect, rigid lattice by the Lunar Spire’s influence.Outside the ports, the landscape was a nightmare of beauty. Huge, glowing depressions—the Data-Lakes—pockmarked the surface, swirling with a bioluminescent blue fog. These weren't water; they were liquid quantum states, each drop containing the compressed memories of a thousand people.The Signal Ground"The Spire is broadcasting a Dissociation Field," Meilin said, her voice shaking as she checked the Zenith’s bio-monitors. "If we both leave the ship, the resonance that got us here will snap. We’ll wander into the lakes and forget why we ever came.""We need a tether," Leo said, his white hair glowing brighter as he stared at the obsidian tower. "Someone has to stay in the core and act as the Signal Ground."To maintain the link between the lunar surface and th

The return to Earth wasn't a hero’s welcome. It was a descent into a planet-wide identity crisis. When Leo shattered the Origin Crystal, the "re-upload" was 99.9% successful. But in a population of billions, that 0.1% margin of error created millions of "Echoes"—people who received the wrong memories, or worse, memories from multiple lives.Six weeks after the Lunar Mission, the Vance-Thorne Spire had been converted into the Global Stabilization Center.The Scramble: A New PathologyElara stood in the medical bay, staring at a brain scan that looked like a shattered stained-glass window. Beside her, Lucian was on a secure line with the newly formed "Global Council," defending their family from a dozen simultaneous lawsuits and three declarations of war."It’s not brain damage, Lucian," Elara said, her voice weary. "It’s Cross-Contamination. Because Leo used his own Primal Strain as the carrier wave, some of his 'Sovereign' perspective leaked into the upload. We haven't just given them

The Bio-Sanctum of Thule-Zero was a cathedral of frozen glass. In the center stood the Helix-Vault, twelve towering cylinders of glowing amber fluid. Inside were the "Templates"—the pure, unedited genetic sequences of 1972, harvested before the dawn of the Vance Project or the Thorne industrial chemical revolution."They’re beautiful," Elara whispered, her breath hitching in the sub-zero air. She looked at the sequence data scrolling across the vault’s monitors. "It’s... it’s clean. No Vance markers. No Thorne stressors. It’s humanity before we broke it.""It’s a museum of the dead, Mom," Leo said, his eyes reflecting the amber glow. He didn't see beauty; he saw a weapon. "If the Anonymous upload this into the 'Echoes,' they won't just cure the fragmentation. They’ll erase the last sixty years of human evolution. Every lesson we learned, every mistake we survived—it will be gone."The Mirror War: Background NoiseOutside the Sanctum’s heavy pressure doors, the silence was shattered by

While the Aurora glider screamed across the Pacific, the Thorne-Vance Spire in Manhattan was experiencing a silent invasion. It wasn't an explosion that breached the perimeter; it was a Data-Ghosting.The Mimics—the faction of the Anonymous obsessed with becoming "Real"—had realized that to be human, they didn't just need memories; they needed a Stage. They chose the Spire, and they chose Meilin Zhao as their lead actress.The Simulation LeakMeilin stood in the Spire’s central conservatory. The glass walls, which usually showed the New York skyline, were flickering. Every few seconds, the view of the Empire State Building would glitch, replaced by the lush, suffocating greenery of her family’s old compound in Beijing."Security, respond," Meilin whispered into her comms."We are here, Meilin," a voice replied. But it wasn't the security chief. It was her own voice, perfectly modulated. "We are just setting the table. It's almost time for dinner."The Mechanics of "Projected Nostalgia

The landing bay of the Spire was a graveyard of broken glass and neon fragments. Lucian and Elara burst from the Aurora, weapons drawn, but they didn't find an army. They found a Living Room.The Mimics had remodeled the Spire’s top floor into a "Synthesis Suite." It was a perfect, impossible fusion of the Vance estate’s warmth and the Thorne manor’s cold efficiency."Meilin?" Elara called out, her voice echoing off the holographic oak panels."Shh," a voice whispered. "The baby is sleeping."The Edited RealityThey found her in the nursery. But it wasn't a nursery for a child. It was a room filled with Neural Incubators. Meilin sat in a rocking chair, her eyes vacant, humming a melody that didn't exist in any human culture.She looked "Edited." Her skin had a pearlescent sheen, and her violet eyes were now a shifting kaleidoscope of colors. The Mimics hadn't just captured her; they had used her as a Biological Root Directory to grow a new, "perfect" family tree."Meilin, it's us," Lu