The scanning lines hit the mountain like a grid of golden cheese-wire.
Where the laser light crossed an unanchored boulder, the stone didn’t heat or shatter.
A silent, blinding flash of white disintegration occurred at the core level. The top half of the boulder was simply gone. That left behind a surface as smooth as polished mirror.
Self-running garbage collection.
If an object didn’t carry a recognized royal header in the cosmic registry, the DPI Eye assumed it was corrupt memory and purged it from existence.
“Four seconds,” Lin Ke said, his voice cutting through the rising hum of the targeting arrays.
He didn’t run.
Running across three-space-folding map points against a sky-high sensor with Planck-length resolution was like a flea trying to outrun a magnifying glass in noon sunlight.
