Data Martial Law

Qingdao, China.

Deep underground, in a hacking organization's attack center, the hacking chief's face twisted into a hard scowl. Everything was going wrong — and a sheen of cold sweat had started to bead on his brow.

The Standing Committee Chairman noticed.

"What's going on?"

The hacking chief spoke low.

"They're holding us off better than expected."

"What?"

Irritation flashed in the Chairman's eyes.

"You said you were confident."

The hacking chief clenched his teeth.

"After we planted the virus, we hit them with a volume bomb to activate it. Against a normal system, the traffic would choke them out, and that gap would let the virus seize final authority."

"And?"

"They're… absorbing the volume far better than we calculated. We throw data bombs at them, and they just keep swallowing it."

He jabbed a finger at one of the screens. JH's Nano AI servers were taking the assault head-on, holding a bandwidth that looked like an open ocean.

"Once the target starts absorbing volume cleanly… the virus loses its force. Packets bounce. Infection routines break. Lateral spread inside the network drops off a cliff."

The hacking chief pointed at the monitor — tens of millions of packets slamming in. Beneath them, JH's server metrics sat at an almost absurd level of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠stability.

He drew a breath.

"JH's server capacity was beyond our estimate. We believe they have undisclosed servers. We thought we were beating up an elementary-school kid…"

"And?"

"Turns out it was a weightlifter."

"So what are you proposing?"

"May we use Code Zero?"

"Code Zero? You can't mean…"

A note of caution edged into his voice.

The hacking chief closed his eyes for a beat, then opened them.

"Yes. We need to declare Data Martial Law across all of China."

"Data Martial Law?!"

"It won't take long. An hour — no, thirty minutes. Once Data Martial Law is active, we gain authority over every data center in the country. Then we can weaponize every server nationwide into a DDoS assault."

The Chairman's face went rigid.

"Even so — Data Martial Law…"

"Thirty minutes. Ten, even. That short a window won't cause major problems."

"You say Data Martial Law gives you authority over all Chinese data. How far does that authority reach? Government agencies?"

"Further."

"Local administrative servers?"

"Further."

"There's further than that?"

"Private enterprise servers."

"Private enterprise? You mean Chinese search companies, SNS companies — that kind of thing?"

"Yes. We borrow their servers for a short while."

"Is that even possible?"

"It's Data Martial Law. And frankly, the backdoors into every major Chinese private company are already in place. If the Party wants server authority, we can take it any time. Surveilling them is our day job."

"Still…"

"This is an operation ordered by the General Secretary himself. We can soothe the private companies afterward."

"Hmm…"

The hacking chief pressed harder.

"They're already starting to absorb the volume. Delay any longer and reverse tracing comes our way."

He clenched a fist and added,

"When you go all-in, you go all-in hard. We need to unleash enough compute power to raise a wave that outruns their adaptation speed."

The Chairman was silent for a moment. Then, almost a whisper:

"If we use Data Martial Law, won't there be a record?"

"There will."

"Then how do we handle the fallout?"

The hacking chief answered without expression.

"If we succeed, we won't need to."

The underground ops floor went dead quiet. The air itself seemed to freeze solid.

The hacking chief flicked a glance at a red warning window on the monitor, then looked the Chairman straight in the eye.

The Chairman drew a finger across his own throat.

"An order from the General Secretary. Fail, and it's our heads — is that it?"

A nod.

The hacking chief inclined his head. There was no way back now.

"This is an operation the General Secretary himself came down for. Failure was never an option."

The Chairman drew a quiet breath.

The hacking chief bowed as if driving the final nail.

"We will see it done. Throw every government agency and private-enterprise server in China into the compute pool, and we can pour out an absolute volume that exceeds their adaptation speed."

The Chairman's fingers trembled — but the answer was already fixed.

"…Execute."

Data Martial Law.

Permission from the second-highest authority in the nation had fallen.

The instant the approval tone sounded, the underground ops floor's lighting flipped to red. Combat alarms blared from the ceiling speakers.

Weeeeng. Weeeeng.

"Initiating Code Zero."

Code Zero.

A murmur of shock ran through the room. Even the hackers flinched for a second. But they were cyber warriors. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠They executed the order at once.

With that, the hacking team held authority over China's state-run data center servers — and over the servers of eight hundred eighty-eight private companies.

Each of those companies would protest, of course. That was a problem for later. If any private firm raised hell, a single mention of the General Secretary's name would shut them up.

The hacking chief shoved his headset on.

"All attack teams — countdown begins."

A single roar rolled through the entire basement.

"Data fire, ready!!"

"Fire!"

Nano World.

The people of Illys's territory.

In the streets, in workshops, in their homes — every one of them was staring at a stone slate.

"You filthy bug!"

Someone shouted. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Nearby nano-people snapped their heads up as one.

"How dare you hurt Baby Constellation!"

"Bad! So bad!"

The moment a grotesque bug tried to surface —

CRUNCH!

Shovels. Hoes. Rocks. Bare fists. The nano-people went after the bugs with absolute determination.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

To modern people on Earth, catching a bug the size of a palm might have been difficult. But this was a world with monsters. The foes the territory folk had fought were monsters, not insects. No one here was going to flee from a mere bug.

"Yaaah!"

Sometimes a nano-person got bitten. Blood welling from the wound. But pain never stopped them.

"Anything that threatens Baby Constellation…"

A bitten nano-person smashed down on a bug as he spoke.

"Disappear!"

The nano-people were small. But a vast conviction lived in every motion. This wasn't just bug-catching. It was the will to protect their Baby Constellation.

An artisan mid-swing with a hammer. A mother holding a child in the street. A grandmother working a hoe. All of them peered into their slates and fought the bugs.

How long did they fight?

Before anyone noticed, a soft light settled over the slate. And a small voice rang out.

"—Thank you, everyone. It's me… Baby Constellation."

For a beat, every nano-person went silent.

One beat late —

Someone on the far side of the street screamed.

"Waaaaaaaaah!!"

"Finally!!!"

Cheers rolled out like a wave.

"Baby Constellation has come to!"

"Baby Constellation is awake!"

"You're alive!!!"

Nano-people leaned out of workshop windows, waving and cheering. Doors flew open house after house as people poured into the street. Some held their slates high overhead and shook them.

The cuts on their hands. The revulsion at the disgusting bugs. The bite wounds and the pain — all of it was forgotten in that instant.

Tens of thousands of voices fused into one and rang through every corner of the territory.

"Long live Baby Constellation!"

"Baby Constellation has returned!"

An old grandmother who had been catching bugs with her hoe — even she heard Baby Constellation's voice.

"—Grandma… thank you for taking care of me when I was hurting."

The old woman's eyes reddened as she answered.

"What're you thankin' me for? That's just what grandmas do."

She set the hoe down and cupped the slate in both hands.

"My little one was hurt — what grandma would just sit still? And what's with that voice? Talk like you always do. Like always."

Baby Constellation's speech flipped.

"—Hehe… I got it~"

"Aigoo, now my little one's come back to herself."

"—Mhm mhm… Grandma, I wuv you~"

The grandmother finally couldn't hold back the laugh that burst out of her.

"Aigoo, so cute I could die. This grandma'll protect you for the rest of her life."

On stone slates all across the territory, Baby Constellation's thanks kept coming.

"—Auntie, thank you. I'm so grateful you helped."

"—Mister, you gave me strength."

"—Sis, I came to because of you."

"—Bro, you know how I feel, right?"

Nano-people standing in the streets looked down at their own slates and smiled.

JH Research.

The CEO's office.

Gong's shout came through the intercom.

"—CEO! We've reclaimed control of the data center!"

"Finally… our data center came back online?"

"—Yes! Not completely, but we've taken the authority. We're absorbing all of their volume attacks."

"That's a relief."

"—Most of the monitors across the work floors have returned to a stable blue. I'll share the live status to your monitor as well, sir."

The data center status appeared on my monitor. Most of it was swinging back toward stable.

Gong continued his report.

"—We can catch the virus now."

"What kind of virus was it? Was it serious?"

"—We're still analyzing the exact type, but—"

The clatter of a keyboard came through.

"—We've deployed fifteen kinds of vaccine simultaneously. We're tracking locations and spraying along every path as we search."

Confidence entered Gong's voice.

"—Finding the virus is only a matter of time. Once we lock a path, we can delete it immediately."

I nodded.

"Ah — good work."

I let out a breath of relief. It felt like the situation was finally wrapping up.

"—Wait—!"

"What is it?"

"—CEO! External attack volume just spiked again! Aaaaaagh!"

Gong's voice was almost a scream. On the office monitors, graphs across every display rocketed upward and painted the screens red.

"This can't be…!"

I sucked in a sharp breath.

Through the intercom came Gong's stunned groan.

"—The scale is… national."

"What did you say?"

"—This is insane! This is impossible!"

On the TV feed, Illys's brow furrowed. As if mana were draining from her too fast, her face had gone faintly pale.

"Illys looks like she's at her limit…!"

I had to decide.

If this kept going, Illys would be strained to breaking, and the nano-people would take the damage.

"Illys and the territory people come first."

A data center could be rebuilt. An AI could be raised again.

To stop any further harm to the nano-people, I resolved to shut the data center down.

"Team Leader Gong…"

And right then —

A voice spilled from the computer speakers.

"—I am Nano AI. External attack recognized."

"Ah!"

I stared at the computer.

The AI's voice continued.

"—Defending against the attack."

Gong shouted over the intercom.

"—CEO, Nano AI is alive! Data center authority occupancy is climbing — ooooh!"

Status lines scrolled hard across the office computer monitor.

Complex packet flows unfurled across the full width of the monitor. Progress bars climbed in long, clean strokes.

On the data center status board filling the office monitor, routes that had been painted red by the external assault vanished one after another — as if a giant eraser were sweeping the screen clean.

Gong cried out in awe.

"—Whoa… whoa! CEO! This speed is — wow!"

Nano AI spoke again a moment later.

On the monitor, infected files that had been stamped like black dots crumbled away like dust.

Gong almost sobbed as he shouted.

"—CEO! We're winning!"

Then Nano AI's voice came again.

And then the AI's voice — asking me.

"—I have a fully learned attack method available. Shall I use it?"