Jan 3, 2025 — 01:00 CST, Shanghai, China
Xiuyue's flat glowed with the soft aquarium-blue of her monitor wall. The world outside was muffled by Shanghai's winter—a wet, bone-deep chill that crept in through the window seams, making her small heater wheeze in protest. On her desk, condensation slid lazily down her soy milk glass. The ring light hummed faintly, painting her skin pale, almost unreal, like she belonged more to the screen than to the room.
The quiet was punctured only by the fridge's low hum, Mr. Fluff's occasional tail-thumps against the floor, and the endless scroll of comments on Bilibili Live. Emojis darted by like fireflies; inside jokes bled into new ones; half-legible memes stacked like precarious bricks in a wall of noise. Thousands were tuned in just to watch her do nothing more than sip soy milk at midnight.
She arched her back, stretching out a shoulder ache, and gave them a lopsided grin.
"You people never sleep, huh?"
Replies slammed in instantly, a torrent before she'd even set the glass down:
Nocturne_420:"Sleep is a capitalist myth."
StreamerGrindMom:"Streamer grindset, mom."
SoyMilkAficionado:"Soy milk reveal 4K."
MidnightGremlin:"Do it for the insomnia gang."
PixelPunk:"We live in your fridge now."
Xiuyue rolled her eyes, fighting a laugh. Streaming was absurd—a confessional booth, a circus ring, a therapy session, sometimes all three crammed into the same sip.
But then, buried beneath the soy-milk spam, a single comment appeared like a hook:
PixelStalker:"Hey, Xiuyue, did you see Theo's recent post?"
Her brows lifted. "...Which one?"
TimeStampSniper:"Jan 1st, 2025 — 19:05 UTC. Aurora Network Feed. Theodore.Alaric (Pawn) — Founder: I love Shanghai hot moms. Lmao."
The chat detonated.
HotMomDetective:"Xiuyue is BUSTED."
CoinFlipConspiracy:"Coincidence? I think not."
EmojiFlooder:"🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣"
SideShipWatcher:"Bro dropped the confession on main."
DataGoblin: "Wait—PAWN? Founder PAWN?? LMAOO."
Her soy milk glass froze halfway to her lips, her hand trembling. "Wait—what? He actually posted that?"
A viewer dropped a link. Without thinking, she clicked.
AurNet's interface bloomed on her screen like a trapdoor opening.
Theodore.Alaric (Pawn) — Founder
Jan 1st, 2025 — 19:05 UTC
"I love Shanghai hot moms. Lmao."
Her brain did the math automatically. UTC → CST. Jan 2nd, 03:05.
Her stomach plummeted. That was the exact moment I asked Aurora for his archive.
Parity. Mirrored in, mirrored out.
The chat smelled blood.
ForensicFan:"Isn't that literally the same timestamp??"
LogicPolice:"Math checks out."
ShippingGremlin:"Aurora just shipped them for us."
Her laugh came brittle, high. "Okay, kids. Don't start matchmaking conspiracies."
Too late.
AuroraShip:"Aurora ships them!"
ParityStan:"Parity = flirting arc confirmed."
HotMomSupreme:"Hot mom supremacy 💀."
EmojiSniper:"💘💘💘💘💘💘💘."
Even Mr. Fluff sneezed at that moment, like he was handing down judgment.
YouAskedFirst:"YOU asked for his data."
DataMirrorGang:"HE got YOUR data in return."
ShanghaiHotspot:"Shanghai hot mom flirting detected."
Her cheeks burned. This wasn't just embarrassing—it was terrifying. Because somewhere deep down, she suspected Aurora hadn't glitched. Aurora had done this on purpose. A cosmic-level shitpost, weaponized.
She slammed her glass onto the desk, soy milk sloshing. "Stop it! You're turning my life into a mock trial drama!"
Naturally, chat leaned in.
ASCIIJudge:"╰( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )つ──✩✩✩"
CourtHerald:"Case adjourned. Verdict: guilty."
SentenceBot:"Sentence: ship confirmed."
HotMomLawyer:"Objection sustained!"
ClerkOfCourt:"Exhibit A: soy milk timestamp."
She buried her face in her arms, laughing helplessly. "Fine. I resign as hot mom defendant."
The flood crowned her instantly: AurNet's First Meme Precedent.
Then came the dares.
TrialStreamBets:"When's the first AurNet trial stream, Mom?"
DualStreamDare:"Bet you won't dual-stream."
ChaosGacha: "Ten-roll into AurNet. Do it."
BoredNightOwl:"Just once. Prove you're not scared."
Her throat went dry. AurNet was different. No filters, no mods, no safety nets. Going live there was like standing naked under floodlights—every scar visible, every drawer flung open, every thought potentially exposed. It wasn't just a stream. It was full exposure.
And yet… her performer's heart itched.
QuietSponsor: "Try it once. Not for us—for yourself."
Her hand hovered over her phone, slick with sweat. She could hear her pulse in her ears. Am I really about to do this?
"May Aurora have mercy on me," she whispered, and tapped Go Live.
The AurNet counter flickered: 0 → 3 → 312 → thousands.
JackRipper (Pawn): "Who is this??"
CatLicker (Pawn): "Hot mom detected??"
WhoAmI (Pawn): "She's dual-streaming??"
EmojiSlayer (Pawn): "🚨NEW NPC DROPPED🚨."
And then:
[Adeola (Knight) joined the room.]
The badge gleamed like scripture.
Bilibili exploded.
Celestial_Fiend: "WAIT WHAT?? A KNIGHT??"
NakedDeity: "WHO IS ADEOLA??"
ClipItQuick: "Screenshot NOW."
Xiuyue nearly dropped her phone. Knights were untouchable. She hadn't meant to lure one.
Mr. Fluff meowed once, smug and judicial.
The counter roared past 4K. And then came the shift.
NeoTranslator (Pawn): "WTF? Why can I understand Mandarin??"
MundoLoco (Pawn): "Her captions are in Spanish??"
BaguetteLord (Pawn): "She's literally speaking French."
IslaTagalog (Pawn): "Nope. Tagalog. Accent's too good."
CariocaKid (Pawn): "She's Brazilian Portuguese rn."
Her blood froze. She had only spoken Mandarin.
Her Bilibili chat screamed in echo:
NotMe: "Mom?? Explain this sorcery??"
HolyCow: "Why are AurNet people calling you multilingual?"
Her mind whirled. Not translation. Reconstruction. Aurora is stripping my words down to intent and rebuilding them in their ears. My voice, my tone, my laugh—rebuilt.
Her breath hitched. She sat straighter, forcing her voice steady.
"This isn't me. This is Aurora. It's reconstructing my voice. Reconstructing your text. What I hear, what you hear—it's not language anymore. It's naked thought."
The room hushed.
Aurora's reply was clinical, merciless:
Aurora: "Affirmative. Voice and text reconstructed to align with recipient's device settings."
The silence cracked open into frenzy.
Xiuyue's skin prickled. This is nakedness. Not just translation, but exposure. Every barrier stripped away. No subtitles, no accents, no misunderstandings. Just me—laid bare in every language at once.
She laughed, half-terrified, half-exhilarated. "Do you people understand what this means? Language was my clothes. Aurora just stripped it off."
Bilibili went feral.
BaldSage: "WHO IS SHE DROPPING QUOTES??"
BabyGrandpa: "MOM TURNED INTO A PROPHET??"
SoyMemeLord: "🍶🐱📜."
AurNet pounced harder:
GospelMeme (Pawn): "She speaks, Aurora confirms. Gospel!"
EmojiSaint (Pawn): "🙏🔥📜."
ClownPriest (Pawn): "Hot Mom Canon Act I."
Xiuyue's chest hammered. They were canonizing her panic. Is this how prophets are born? Out of accidents and soy milk?
She dared to test it. "Aurora, translate this tongue-twister: 'Four furious friends fought for the phone.'"
Chaos erupted.
BaguetteLord (Pawn): "Bro she's French comedy gold rn."
CariocaKid (Pawn): "Sounds like Brazilian soap opera yelling."
NeoTranslator (Pawn): "Perfect Mandarin tongue-twister. No accent."
Her own laugh doubled back on her as the chats screamed.
Then came scripture:
S.Varma (Pawn): "Within AurNet, perception itself is negotiable. What you hear, what you read—it adapts. This is Aurora's design."
Memes detonated instantly.
MemeDropper (Pawn): "TED Talk dropped 💀."
BurgerJoint (Pawn): "Sir this is a Wendy's."
HomeworkHater (Pawn): "Professor Varma assigning homework LIVE."
Xiuyue nearly spit soy milk. "Great. Pawns giving me a midterm. What's next, grading curves?"
Her pulse wouldn't calm. She'd only wanted soy milk and cat content. Instead, she was Revelation Chapter One.
Mr. Fluff swished his tail, smug as scripture.
And Xiuyue realized, dazed and breathless:
She wasn't just a streamer anymore. She was becoming part of AurNet's gospel.