"in this world digital traces are more honest than memories"
The night grew late, the clock already showing one in the morning, yet Recandra remained glued to his lit laptop screen. This time he was using his reliable machine, his self-assembled laptop known as the 'combat laptop'.
His fingers quickly typed out commands, ready to be executed. This time he wasn't attacking, but rather 'upgrading' his defense system. Besides that, he was also assembling tools even more fearsome than Blackdom and Hardveil. Line by line, prompts and code were entered. Meanwhile, elsewhere...
Kayla and Ale, in different locations, were also striving to assemble their own 'weapons'. Kayla and Ale knew their opponent was no ordinary person; he was someone who had delved into the cyber world at the tender age of eleven.
Kayla's fingers flew across the keyboard. Line after line of prompts and code poured into her Terminator window, the commands poised for execution.
Meanwhile, elsewhere, Ale was seen busily dismantling his PC. A still-warm soldering iron lay beside him. He took apart all the hardware, replaced several parts, and simultaneously added some small components. Ale was currently assembling a PC designed to counter Recandra's combat laptop; he knew well that the 'combat laptop' moniker was no mere exaggeration. Piled in front of him were components ranging from a custom motherboard, a black-market processor, and an experimental military GPU whose code he had stolen from the deep web six months prior, along with a special chipset not sold on the market. His hands were dusty, and sweat began to trickle down his temples. Yet Ale continued assembling his 'weapons'. Two individuals in separate locations were both assembling their 'weapons', striving to defeat Recandra and his combat laptop.
Returning to Recandra's room, drowsiness began to set in, but he fought to maintain consciousness. His hands remained dedicated, typing prompts and command codes. Occasionally, he yawned, a sign of his eyes' fatigue, yet his brain and hands seemed unwilling to cooperate in allowing him to sleep. The room lights were dim, only the glow from his laptop screen illuminating his weary face. His eyes were starting to redden, but he forced himself to stay alert, both eyes striving to focus on the laptop screen, quickly checking that the prompts and code were entered correctly, for he knew full well that a single small error in the cyber world could be fatal.
He added another Terminator window, making his laptop screen seem split in two, with the left side displaying lines of prompts and code, while the right showed a file he had never opened before, a file named Exa./cloud-dark/34.
He opened the file, revealing program code – code he had written four years ago. He then copied the code and brought it up in the Terminator window. With the left side finished copying the code, one window was closed again, leaving only one Terminator window open.
"Just a little more," Recandra muttered to himself.
...the final line of that code had been copied. Now Recandra began the compilation. The process was heavy. His combat laptop began a soft hiss—the fans working maximally, temperature rising drastically, yet the system remained stable. He leaned back for a moment, taking a long breath. Sleepiness weighed heavier. But his mind couldn't stop.
"EXA," the name of the program. He remembered the day he first wrote it—inside the core base of the Cakra gang, a base that had once been his second home.
```
>> compiling exa.cloud-dark.34 …
>> Success.
```
He added a new module.
```
bind --exa ./defensive_core --inject ./CROWNBRREAK/inti
set_protocol --active_reflective_shield
load_signature --FW_NA.trace --eidolon.mapping
```
CROWNBREAK now had a new backbone: EXA. This system didn't just defend or attack; it adapted, restructuring the entire protection framework based on enemy patterns, even before the enemy re-engaged. Now his combat laptop wasn't merely a fortress—it transformed into a predatory entity that could hunt back.
---
Meanwhile, elsewhere...
Kayla had finished perfecting it. "Neurophage". Her Terminator window displayed a real-time simulation: pattern morphing, synthetic virus learning, deep neural breach. She connected the tool to her "SPINE" interface—manual control for infiltrating a network as if she were part of the enemy system. Kayla grinned. "Now... let's see how good you are, Recandra."
---
Meanwhile, elsewhere, Ale finally succeeded in assembling his 'weapon'. He powered on his new rig. Blue-purple LED lights illuminated, the room temperature immediately rising 3 degrees. The experimental CPU successfully started without an explosion.
He typed quickly, testing the system's power:
```
boot --eidolon --rawmode
access --deepvenom.network
sync --neurophage-spine --kayla.directlink
```
Data began to flow. Ale refined the control by inserting a new program called GHOSTNERVE—a pass-through exploit that could disguise itself as Blackdom logs. He wanted to flip Recandra's system... using a ghost from Recandra's own past.
--
03:04 AM.
On his combat laptop, Recandra noticed a strange change. A prompt in the lower left corner suddenly displayed a notification:
> "Ghostnerve activity suspected. Origin unclear. Blackdom mismatch."
He tensed. "Ghostnerve... that's not my code."
He immediately opened the raw logs, tracing the data path. Several nodes appeared to be disguised as nodes he had used last year—meaning someone was cloning his digital history footprint. But Recandra just smiled faintly. "Funny," he said softly.
He opened one more window—Redroot. An ancient, outdated system that could only be run under the EXA architecture. This tool didn't fight... it infiltrated back. Slowly. Silently. Until finally... exploding itself from within. Recandra typed quickly:
```
bind --redroot ./ghostnerve.thread
track --spine.neurophage --origin: directlink
inject --loopback --cascade-trace --mirrortrail
```
He leaned back again. "Playing games with my digital footprint? Now feel the consequences."
The combat laptop was ready to fight. And the night wasn't over. The sound of the fans roared again. The room grew hotter. But the war truly began... when Recandra activated hunting mode. One more command.
```
hunt --ghostnerve --aggressive --no_retur
```
However, before it could be executed, the 'suspicious network' had already left his server. But it was useless; his Redroot system was capable of re-displaying the deleted digital traces. After seeing it, he merely smiled faintly. "I'll let you off the hook this time," Recandra thought.
Meanwhile, Ale, realizing his attack had failed, stared at his monitor displaying the lines of GHOSTNERVE program code. He tried to find its weakness. He let out a heavy sigh. "I admit, you truly are skilled," he said in a low voice. "I admit you're skilled," Ale thought to himself.
Ale straightened up again, his eyes fixed intensely on his monitor. His left hand reached for a cup of cold coffee, while his right began retyping the core file of GHOSTNERVE. He knew the only way to rival Recandra's EXA was to create a new version of his tool—deeper, crueler, and more unpredictable.
He opened a new window:
```
nano ghostnerve_alpha.rebuild
```
Line by line he rewrote it, not just fixing, but overhauling. GHOSTNERVE was no longer just a passive exploit. Now Ale wanted to create something akin to living malware—code that could learn, grow, and adapt within the opponent's network, even without specific commands. He added libraries from several research papers he had stolen from an underground AI research network:
```
import neuro.symbiosys as ns
import chaos.mutation.layer as cml
import obfuscate.dreamer_core as dream
```
Then he bound the basic protocols:
```
bind --ghostnerve ./ghostnerve_alpha.rebuild
inject --mutation-level max
set_stealthmode --eidolon_trace
activate --dreamcore_neuron
```
GHOSTNERVE v2 was born that night. Not just an ordinary tool. It was a living virus capable of digital mimicry, falsifying patterns, and disguising itself as part of the opponent's system. Even ordinary AI wouldn't recognize it as an anomaly. Ale gritted his teeth. "You have EXA, Candra? I have a new nightmare."
His monitor now displayed a simulation of the battle between EXA and GHOSTNERVE V2. For the first time, Recandra's algorithm was unable to detect the direction of its input. Ale smiled. "This time I'm not just breaking in, I'm leaving a wound inside your system."