Labor and Delivery Timing
(Delivery room heart rate monitor synchronizes with countdown to stock market meltdown)
Inside the quantum labor and delivery room at Manhattan's Presbyterian Hospital, Violette's Chanel couture hospital gown is drenched in a mixture of amniotic fluid and blockchain data streams. She stares at the ceiling's touchable holographic screen, where the contraction frequency curve is perfectly overlapping the trajectory of the Dow Jones crash." Push!" The AI midwife's robotic arm flashed a cold Tiffany blue light, "Fetal heartbeats manipulate the laser defense grid of the Federal Reserve vault!"
Scarlett's mechanical stump suddenly crashed through bulletproof glass as a Tesla electric whip wrapped around the quantum wires of the fetal heart monitor, "For every intensification of your contractions, three central banks go bankrupt." She flings futures contracts encrypted in umbilical cord blood, with terms that automatically liquidate Ethan's pharmaceutical empire if her newborn cries above 60 decibels, and Violette's Van Cleef & Arpels wedding ring suddenly tightens, where nanobots hidden inside the bezel are compiling her cervical dilatation data into shorting code.
"Blood pressure spiking to shorting threshold!" Lucas's leftover AI screams over the delivery room PA system. The holographic screen switched to a live Darknet feed: three hundred cloned fetuses in incubation pods convulsing in sync, USB ports on the backs of their heads downloading Violette's labor pain data. She scratches the sedative test tubes in her platinum Hermes bag, glass slag spelling out the real-time coordinates of the Swiss bank's underground vault on the wall-the quantum chip inside the fetus's skull has initiated the zeroing process.
The Nasdaq exchange dome collapses in response as the eighth contraction rips through the air - Violette's Christian Louboutin birthing bed suddenly tilts and a torrent of amniotic fluid rushes through the blast doors of JPMorgan Chase's data center. A newborn's hair scans the iris to unlock the last encrypted account, and the original surveillance footage of his father's fall twenty years ago bursts across all the advertising screens on Wall Street - Ethan at the edge of the frame polishing the murder weapon with his now-wedding ring.
"Head out!" The AI midwife's robotic hand is suddenly bitten by the fetus as quantum blood corrodes the titanium joints.Violette rips off her Cartier necklace in excruciating pain as diamond powder drifts into the shadowless lamp to form a blockchain-authenticated birth certificate.Scarlett's robotic womb is suddenly overloaded as the Tesla electric whip melts into the last line of support for the Dow Jones.Scarlett's mechanical womb is suddenly overloaded as the Tesla electric whip melts into the last line of support for the Dow Jones.
"Harder! Last 30 seconds left to clear global debt!" The midwife's electronic voice begins the countdown.Violette's pupils reflect the Van Cleef & Arpels code on the birthing forceps-the ultimate code to control New York's power grid. As the newborn's cries shattered the bulletproof glass of the quantum maternity ward, all financial data streams suddenly shifted, and the gold from the Federal Reserve vaults began to quantum leap into her torn womb.
"Welcome to the end, baby." Violette kissed the bloodstained baby and tied the perfect noose around the neck of the Wall Street bronze bull with the umbilical cord. Outside the delivery room, the Secret Service agents' weapons jammed at the same time - their fingerprint identification systems were overwritten with fetal fat data. The dark webcast frames the newborn's first smile, an arc that precisely replicates the last expression on Violette's father's face before he fell.