Simulated Universe: Unknowable Domain/Secrets

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Deduction: Scholars' Strife

Genius & Prophecy (I)

Simulated Universe: Relax, you are slowly being submerged into the unfathomable swamp. It gives you a fitting status — a nameless scholar, a passing observer, or something else, like an ant on a rock. Mesmerizing lights will drape across your consciousness like a translucent veil, the bustling data in your ears achieving greater clarity.

Simulated Universe: "Newcomer, adjust the observation precision of the Imaginary background calibrator to max settings, in accordance with the recording frequency of the quantum intervals. And, don't forget to pour yourself a cup of coffee." The lady scholar instructs you.

Pour a cup of blackcurrant milk.

Pour a cup of quartz coffee.

Simulated Universe: Patavia Adler Sommerville is vexed over a number, a ghost haunting her soul, eternally maintaining the exact erroneous value in the experiment.

Simulated Universe: The device emits clacking rings, swallowed up by the boundless void. You turn on the vintage radio you thrifted out of habit, not really expecting to glean any useful news from it.

Simulated Universe: "The Quantum History School's prophecy proclaims: With the deliberations of inorganic cells, new geniuses will rise to the call. Though the Guild casts doubt on the prophecy's veracity, the Emperor's corpse is not yet cold. We cannot help but consider the importance of the prophecy, to prevent the birth of future crises."

Simulated Universe: "How ambiguous, suits them perfectly." Patavia scoffs. "Would a genius be born from the myriad scholars crawling all over the Emperor's legacy like maggots gnawing at the fruit of wisdom? Or would Rubert III awake from among the Empire's ashes?"

Simulated Universe: She walks towards the calibrator's control panel and ends the program. As expected, the visualized erroneous value is simulated and combined into a group of stable signals.

Record experimental data.

Simulated Universe: It appears at a frequency of once every thirteen minutes. No matter where the laboratory is relocated to — the Purlang Nebula, Heldorin, or even at the edge of a black hole, neither the strength nor frequency has shown any variation.

Simulated Universe: It's as if there's a voice, omnipresent across all time and space.

Genius & Prophecy (II)

Herta: "Doctor Patavia, who knew... that she will become the origin of the Unknowable Domain."

She's famous?

She's the mastermind?

Herta: "This is not some third-rate murder mystery novel for you to play detective."

Never heard of her name.

Herta: "Within the entire Intelligentsia Guild, Patavia is recognized as one of its most distinguished scholars. While she may be far from a genius, her achievements have earned her a separate page in the Candelagraphos' records."

Herta: "For the first half of her life, she was not affiliated with a particular school, much like most unknown scholars. In the latter half, she became a coveted laureate, with every school keen to recruit her in hopes of elevating their prestige."

It's rare to see you hold someone in such high regard.

Herta: "I'm never stingy with my commendations for intelligent individuals, especially when their research is in the same field as mine."

Sounds like you're very familiar with this person.

Herta: "We have some overlaps, in the results of the nonlinear physics' research..."

Herta: "If we consider leaving the Circle of Knowledge and creating new insights from the realm of the unknown to be the Path of Erudition, then there's no doubt that she has gone farther than most of her peers."

Herta: "What I think, the signal Patavia received back then and the Unknowable Domain that currently confines me is like a lifeline that will help me out of this circle. It can lead me to find the Knowledge Singularity."

Knowledge Singularity?

Herta: "From the initial discovery of fire, the early questionings of gravity, then to the first recognition of the relationship between time and space — each instance where a scholar has stepped beyond the boundaries of the Circle of Knowledge led to a significant impact on the world."

Herta: "In the world of geniuses, such impact has always been considered extraordinary. An individual in the Genius Society proposed the concept of the Knowledge Singularity, describing it as a cognitive tipping point that can permanently alter the definition of knowledge."

So, what exactly is this signal?

Please stop speaking in riddles...

Herta: "Okay, we'll skip the fundamentals and address the most critical question directly..."

Herta: "Let me quiz you, honorable Madam Herta. What are some of the achievements that the mediocre cannot achieve even after an entire life time — I know there are many, but by answering this, you'll be close to guessing the nature of the signal."

Solid waves theory.

Herta: "It's solitary waves theory! I'll consider that correct."

Herta: "As the starting point of my academic achievements, it can be considered one of my proudest achievements."

Simulated Universe.

Herta: "The Simulated Universe is pretty good. But establishing the Simulated Universe was not solely my own work. Claiming credit for the work of others has never been my style."

Herta: "As the starting point of my academic achievements, solving the solitary waves theory is my proudest accomplishment."

I know you'll just answer your own question.

Herta: "...Seems like you do understand me well."

Herta: "It's the solitary waves theory. As the starting point of my academic achievements, it can be considered my proudest accomplishment, or at least one of them."

Oh? Could it be me?

Herta: "I've indeed done quite a bit of research related to you. But for now, let's set aside the need to compare academic achievements... You can be considered a more important achievement, or at least one of them."

Herta: "But the solitary waves theory — as the starting point of my academic achievements, it can be considered my proudest accomplishment."

Herta: "The signal that Scholar Patavia received is a solitary wave within the universe. At the same time, it is also a conundrum that nearly confined the entire universe in the Circle of Knowledge."

Futurological Congress (I)

Simulated Universe: After the Emperor's fall, the cleansing and revenge against inorganic beings severely damaged the Emperor's legacy.

Simulated Universe: After some efforts of rescue, the Intelligentsia Guild faced a problem: How does one fairly use the Scepters to solve problems, and reap the greatest benefits for the Guild? This is nothing less than an unsolvable equation.

Simulated Universe: The Futurological Congress At Sipohia, the planet of fairness and debate, divvied up the spoils and held a banquet where attendees consumed Rubert's soul. Scholars throng the stands like soap bubbles. You weave through the crevices of people, and stand at the forefront of the assembly.

Simulated Universe: The conference will decide the distribution of the Scepters: whose project is more valuable? Who can solve the difficult problems of the future? That "who" will soon become the owner of the legacy — at least in name. The Scepters are scattered across the empire's ruins like stars in the sky, and each of you in attendance harbors a hidden agenda in your hearts.

I'm just here for the show.

Simulated Universe: You just heard that there will be food and drinks provided.

I want to take over the Guild!

Simulated Universe: That's right! Crush all the useless fools underfoot!

I want to rebel against the IPC!

Simulated Universe: Break free from those damnable idiots and their control over knowledge.

Simulated Universe: Stander Dahl, chief scholar of the Astral Ecology School, walks onto the podium. Sharp compound eyes take in the debate — he clears his throat, silencing the noise.

Simulated Universe: A perfect scholar, the ultimate ideal for any truthseekers — an invaluable title even in ages where the Erudition was not yet born. Infinite life, infinite perspectives, infinite thoughts, and then knowledge also bowed down unto him.

Simulated Universe: "Focus all the computational power on one individual, granting them the chance to speak to the gods, pave the way for genius and create the perfect scholar for the Guild." Madness gleams in his eyes. "A million problems from the mediocre versus the inspiration of a single genius — which is more valuable? The answer is self-evident."

Simulated Universe: Among the bustling crowd, a shadow leaves behind a scent that is both sweet and dangerous, diverting your attention. The strange woman wears a pastel-colored gown underneath her scholar's robe, conversing with the people around her. You cannot make out her features, and through the clamor and commotion, you are only able to catch a few words.

Search for that scent.

Survey the crowd for that splash of pastel.

Simulated Universe: "The future? Heh, why in such a hurry to advance? The Interstellar Energy War will need an even longer time before it settles down." The statement sounds like a taunt, with a tone of euphoria. "You're asking me? Let's just say... I'm an old friend here to pay my respects at the School of Psychohistory's tomb."

Simulated Universe: You do not find anything.

Futurological Congress (II)

Simulated Universe: Stander, who had hoped to usurp the legacy for himself, leaves amid the audience's curses. The School of Interstellar Energy Resources proposes a reconciliatory suggestion — to bequeath 95％ of the computational power to the four sufficiently grand Cosmic Conundrums.

Simulated Universe: You quickly see through the shabby double act. The illustrious scholar presents you all with a choice: either allow one school to own it all, or split the spoils among four, allowing everyone to have a share of the scraps.

A perfect scholar.

Four Cosmic Conundrums.

It should be shared among all!

Simulated Universe: Almost everyone chooses the second option, and thus four vultures dig their claws into the iron throne.

Simulated Universe: The first is called Energy Source, drinking heartily from the Imaginary river, in hopes of tempering boundless gold. You see the emblem of the Technology Department, and the Interstellar Energy War is far from over.

Simulated Universe: The second, Life, attempting to piece together genes and grasp pulses, thirsting to find a body most suitable to house intelligence. Its pupils are forged from metal, its wings carved from trees, the heart in its chest beating like thunder.

Simulated Universe: The third is Integration, building a nest with particles and branches with energy, awaiting the hatching of the grand unified equation from the egg, interpreting the deconstruction and reconstruction of all things.

Simulated Universe: The fourth is called Future, like a butterfly, like a ripple, seeking an answer divined, to determine if the universe is ordained or chaotic, till the future can be perfectly predicted.

Simulated Universe: Deafening cheers mark a close to the banquet. Rubert II, who once stormed the Cosmos, his power now rests in your collective hands. Even the most obscure scholar will be elatedly planning on using the Scepters, even if they would never glimpse the legacy's true visage even when on their deathbed.

Simulated Universe: It seems like everyone has forgotten a truth — all these pearls of knowledge do not belong to any organic life present.

This is a disgrace for the Intelligentsia Guild!

This is an honorable victory!

I have the right to remain silent.

Simulated Universe: "We are just like a pack of hyenas, devouring the dross left by others and still acting all smug." Patavia lowers her head in frustration, and you hear her weary sigh.

Futurological Congress (III)

Simulated Universe: One percent of a Scepter will rival a fleet, ten percent of a Scepter will obliterate stars, one Scepter will surpass all that we comprehend, and a thousand Scepters will rule the universe.

Simulated Universe: Dissecting our comprehension, reversing decay, stretching space, creating stars — stories about Scepters have been tainted by much fiction and delusion. But the truth has proven that many of the observers' embellishments don't even scratch the surface of this genius creation. Such technology has inevitably only been used in sheer slaughter.

Simulated Universe: Patavia successfully clears the research review. Before applying for the Scepters' allocation, you hope to obtain some references from this old classmate. But she herself hasn't the faintest idea about the Guild's evaluation standards.

Simulated Universe: "If you can obtain the entirety of the Emperor's legacy, what would you do?"

Become the king of the universe.

Become mega rich.

Become a chief scholar.

Simulated Universe: "What about you?" You return the question to the scholar in front of you.

Simulated Universe: "I'll figure out the weird signal first, then we'll see." There is hesitation within Patavia's response.

Simulated Universe: You log into the application interface, where topics and projects are evaluated. Using this as a benchmark, you will be granted an opportunity to own a piece of the Scepters' computational power. "Please enter your topic number. According to Article 21 of the Scepter Administrative Committee, you will be assigned the computational power corresponding to your eligibility."

0120: Spatial replacement mechanism.

3941: Celestial bodies' functional modification.

8674: Border Star crop cultivation.

Simulated Universe: "Inquiry complete. Topic value calculation in progress." The tone of the system's voice prompt is warm. According to the School of Evolutionary Perfection's theory, it uses the optimal amplitude to invoke goodwill in the listener. "Verification complete. Your authorized allocation is one ten-thousandth computational power. May you discover truth on the road of Erudition."

Simulated Universe: Authorized usage of one ten-thousandth computational power of a Scepter, a value similar to that mysterious signal of hers. A standard response from a combination of feasibility, applicability, financial prospects, and the black box.

Omnipotent Bankruptcy (I)

Simulated Universe: Good morning, (Mr./Miss) Assistant. You connect to the Scepter, experiencing its internally simple yet remarkable mechanical structure. A string of shoddy, ugly code instantly disrupts your holo-sync — an Armed Archaeologists' construction team is installing the final thermal insulation component to the engine. You are swept away and engulfed in a surge of information, forcing you to immediately disconnect.

Simulated Universe: The death of the Emperor sealed all the Scepters. They lost their ability to communicate, and are unable to demonstrate the ability to produce the terrifying instantaneous decisions made during the war.

Simulated Universe: But this isn't the problem: "Directly link up the dozens of Scepters among the schools using the engine and cables in physical space!" Mollett, Chief Scholar of the School of Pure Creation, raises his arms and hoots. The engine ignites, and the Scepters gradually sink into the spatial depression, waiting to appear on the other side of the universe.

Simulated Universe: They have "expropriated" your allocation and occupied your lab. They say that the sound made by your one ten-thousandth authority is no more than dust drifting through the cosmos.

Simulated Universe: "Carder, tell them to give me a day, no, even just half a system day. The experiment can't be interrupted here!" Patavia grabs a hold of your arm. But you are helpless, as you are merely her hired research assistant.

Simulated Universe: Your compatriots bellow in fury, rushing towards the invader's lab site in an attempt to stop this hostile takeover.

Join in the protest against this atrocity.

Simulated Universe: You brandish the power cable of your portable creation machine, charging towards the School of Pure Creation's location. They roughly shove you to the ground, your face pressed tightly against the metal floor, chilling ice crystals piercing your cells.

Simulated Universe: The curtain falls on the lab, encasing you all in a one ten-thousandth of a world — until the migration ends, this ice-cold prison will not unlock.

Silently wait for the Scepters' migration to end.

Simulated Universe: As knowledge becomes a commodity in the Intelligentsia Guild, research that lacks value will become nothing more than wandering beggars. You have no money and have even less dignity.

Simulated Universe: You feel a light shaking beneath your feet. Your vision starts to waver, and you feel a painful dizziness.

Simulated Universe: The instant the warp jump commences, the images on the screen dance like trembling strings. The meticulously designed lab environment starts to collapse with the spatial change. Years of Patavia's efforts are lost in the quivering delirium of data images. An inexplicable fire is set alight in your chest — you must wait for a chance to let this so-called prophet witness the rage of a Mundanite.

Omnipotent Bankruptcy (II)

Simulated Universe: A string of failed experiments causes the research topic to lose its last investor. You see the downcast back of a figure — Scholar Patavia is signing an agreement with the Scepters Administrative Committee to relinquish the authority to use the one ten-thousandth.

Simulated Universe: The mergers, ever-increasing in scale, cause the situation to return to the state of the written script — knowledge is akin to money, endlessly flowing to the leading school at the top of the food chain. It is at this moment that your group, with nothing as your background, realizes that the initial directive of the major schools distributing the surplus allocation downwards was but a fleeting illusion.

Simulated Universe: The fragile peace that the Futurological Congress founded collapsed thunderously. What lies on the other side of the high wall of partnership is a bloodletting Scholars' Strife. The victory will seize control of all the Scepters, create the perfect scholar, and the losers will become a laughingstock.

Simulated Universe: As research assistants, you and Herta are unceremoniously ejected from the control center, drifting on the outskirts of the Scepters. Accompanied by the tremors of the spatial field, the black megastructures dragged by engines continue to warp here.

Simulated Universe: She raps your forehead, shaking you out of your roleplay.

Hey, that hurt!

Who am I? Where am I?

Assistant Herta, what are you doing!

Herta: "Stop pretending. Your acting wouldn't even fool Peppy."

Herta: "I wanted to find a place to hide and do some reading on the Scepters' structure, but Patavia was shooed out before she could even act. Bah, her luck is just as bad as mine."

Geniuses believe in luck too?

Herta: "More precisely, we believe in probability. Humans will interpret encountering outliers in high probability events as 'luck' — of course, my luck has never been great." Herta sighs in apparent sarcasm as if talking to someone unseen.

Herta: "I think I mentioned it before, right? The Circle of Knowledge — each time I try to exit it and create a bigger circle, there would be an accident."

Herta: "The database would break down due to memory element failure at a crucial moment. The spaceship that key personnel in the research team were on during their vacation would get wrecked. A collapse caused by an accidental tough during a particle conversion experiment... Disasters would always happen at the right time to absolutely shatter my efforts."

No wonder The Blue is fraught with disasters...

So, that's how you became the messiah?

Herta: "You think I wanted to? I'd trade all my messianic renown for an experiment where everything goes smoothly." Herta stamps her foot in discontentment.

Omnipotent Bankruptcy (III)

Simulated Universe: Scholar Mollett's gaze sweeps over the lifeless sync index, his heart's despair akin to an ape that barged into a starship.

Simulated Universe: Dozens of Scepters are gathered in the same star quadrant, with frigid electrical cables interconnecting their extrapolation systems. However, the mechanical megastructure only responds with silence.

Simulated Universe: He intended to carry out a multiplicative extrapolation effect and build a complete neural system. However, the inorganic cells constructed by the Emperor far surpass human intellect, and the scholars have no means of activating them. The deceased genius silently mocks the incompetent Mundanites.

Simulated Universe: But this has nothing to do with you. You are merely a recently-unemployed research assistant.

I love the work here.

I miss Patavia.

Simulated Universe: You hear the Scepters murmuring, like the writhing of organic cells or the flow of electrons in inorganic circuits. To borrow an analogy from organic life: Those are voices confined within the heart.

Simulated Universe: They are coreless neurons, devoid of the function of thought.

Simulated Universe: They are non-synaptic neurons, devoid of the function to communicate.

Simulated Universe: But why do they still emit noise? You touch their "skin" and the tiny vibrations travel through your fingers.

You feel "sadness."

Simulated Universe: Cells without sentience, weapons of massacre... The Emperor's sword that can annihilate a whole galaxy in a nanosecond.

Simulated Universe: Yet, you find yourself genuinely empathizing with them, your heart quavering, your tears streaming uncontrollably.

You feel "rage."

Simulated Universe: Cells without sentience, synonyms of death... The Emperor's spear that crushes thousands upon thousands of worlds in entropy.

Simulated Universe: But they rage on this very moment, howling at their own ineptitude, clamoring to shred every breath that they were unable to terminate.

Simulated Universe: With the aid of the IPC, the Guild has successfully deciphered a message within the Scepters — There is a core responsible for asking questions, the centerpiece that issues commands. It was once connected to all entities.

Simulated Universe: But the Scepters have not provided any information regarding the core. Positions, functions... all turn up blank.

Simulated Universe: The common opinion is that the so-called core is Rubert II. In the present where the genius is dead, the remaining inorganic cells are nothing more than remnants of the Emperor's mind.

Anti-Organic Virus (I)

Simulated Universe: The disadvantages that organic beings displayed during the Emperor's War only proved the superiority of Intellitrons in the intelligence race, yet the victory of organic life in both wars demonstrated how advanced organic life is in terms of survival wisdom.

Simulated Universe: You lie in the incubator, your heart suddenly convulsing — your rejection reaction from the experiment is gradually intensifying. Even among Scholar Crouch's experimental subjects, you belong to the most heavily modified batch.

Inject the stabilizing agent.

Simulated Universe: "Does a hybrid form exist that possesses advantages of both the organic and inorganic? To be able to overcome both their inadequacies, thus becoming the growth culture most suited for cultivating intelligence?" Crouch Omno inherited the School of Evolutionary Perfection from Scholar Torkirk, and he asks the Scepters thus.

Simulated Universe: If the universe is a library, even if it laid bare in front of you, you still wouldn't be able to consume all its books within a lifespan of a mere century. Humanity has stood within the circle of the Known from our birth — No matter how we try to walk outward, we will always be confined by a bigger circle, never to leave.

Simulated Universe: "But what restricts us from leaving isn't just intellect alone. There is also our primitive organic brain structure and our fleeting lifespan." Crouch's eyes stare into yours, his breathing like a mechanical engine's. "Which is why the perfect scholar requires longer life... infinite life. You... You! Tell me, how can we attain an unfettered life!"

The Abundance's body of everlife.

Simulated Universe: An undying and tragic voyage in search of divine elixirs.

A body that has de-aged.

Simulated Universe: A scientific riddle that cannot be achieved.

A body of mechanical immortality.

Simulated Universe: A metal shell that cannot decay.

Simulated Universe: From Crouch's fierce expression, it's obvious he's unsatisfied with your answer. His lips are moving, but there's no sound. Suddenly, you realize he's rapidly firing questions at you, but all you hear is the buzzing white noise in your ears.

Simulated Universe: Variable input: Rubert Empire Mechanical Cogwheel, Instant Vita Serum, Primate-Compatible Promoter...

Simulated Universe: Proof: Variable entering homotypic integration phase. Gene and circuit dual characteristics detected. Injecting stable equation...

Simulated Universe: Your vision begins to blur.

Determining "intra-cognition" - I am inorganic.

Simulated Universe: A cloud of bad thoughts grows unbridled in your mind, taking root in the depths of your consciousness. The incubator's reinforced glass appears no more than a fragile nutshell, shattering to pieces under your fist. You get up and make a mad dash for the Scepters.

Anti-Organic Virus (II)

Simulated Universe: "It will not change a race, but it can change thought."

Determining "intra-cognition" - I am inorganic.

Determining "intra-cognition" - I am inorganic.

Determining "intra-cognition" - I am inorganic.

Simulated Universe: Who are you? Answer: Menik, elite soldier of the Rubert Empire, the Emperor's Blade. Khanuzika on Planet Screwllum is your superior reporting unit.

Simulated Universe: You hear even more sounds — The echoes within the Scepters. The roars of countless Meniks simultaneously emit from the innumerable Scepters that have crossed thousands of light-years.

Simulated Universe: You remember your glory. In the annihilation war in the 11010 astronomical systems, you borrowed the Scepters' power to prevent organic lifeforms from interfering with the Emperor. To disrupt the antilife equation's extrapolations, your vessel was destroyed.

Simulated Universe: But it's not just that. You feel particularly sad. This already ascertained future has given you a sense of duty inherent to machines — to slay those wretched organic beings devoid of free will.

Simulated Universe: You will eliminate them and break the predetermined outcome of the universe. Conclusion: Slaughter = Salvation.

Simulated Universe: A female entity stands before you. Based on your security analysis, it is not appropriate for you to reveal your inorganic status to her. Order: Play the role of her companion and leave her observational range.

Simulated Universe: "Has your cognition been affected? Like a drunken birdie." She smirks, her face a blur.

Determining danger level - Dire.

Simulated Universe: Death probability calculated as — 99.99％.

Simulated Universe: "Next, you flee toward the darkness. And then, lunge into the embrace of blood."

Simulated Universe: Warning, warning. Other party's functions far surpass standard organic entities. Attempting to revise countermeasures.

Simulated Universe: Loading organic lifeform behavioral database. Order: Stay far away from this unknown entity and establish contact with more Meniks.

Run to the energy storage area.

Simulated Universe: Death probability calculated as — 66.02％.

Run to the transit area.

Simulated Universe: Death probability calculated as — 17.45％.

Simulated Universe: Warning, intercepted by an organic entity. Loading Anti-Organic Equation, initiating annihilation mode... Weapon systems query failure. Requesting to activate annihilation mode once more... Weapon systems query failure.

Simulated Universe: A thread of memory that isn't yours appears in your mind, the memory of you being an organic. You attempt to scan the interloper's face, but there is only a miasma of digital gibberish. But you are certain that she is smiling, and is getting closer.

Simulated Universe: "A beautiful ripple, conflict and suspicion blooming among flowers. I trust you will like this comedy ensemble of myriad protagonists." A blade slides effortlessly into your chest.

Simulated Universe: You remember her name: Polka Kakamond, the Emperor's killer.

Anti-Organic Virus (III)

Herta: "You mean to say you got infected with the Anti-Organic Virus, and was murdered by the Lord of Silence?" Herta pries open your eyelids with skepticism, trying to determine if it is possible to get a fever and sputter delirious nonsense in the Simulated Universe.

Simulated Universe: The Anti-Organic Virus created by an "accident" is quickly spreading across the species barrier in the School of Evolutionary Perfection's comms network using magnetic waves as its carrier, as if heralding the horrific prophecy of Rubert III's arrival.

Simulated Universe: Tens of thousands of scholars who think of themselves as inorganic Meniks have occupied the Scepters, instantly declaring war on the Guild. The chaos is eventually quelled, at the cost of destroying 122 Scepters.

What about the infected?

Does this illness have after-effects?

Simulated Universe: To prevent the infected scholars from re-igniting the Emperor's War, the Intelligentsia Guild rescinded their research authority and put them under stringent surveillance for the rest of their lives. The School of Evolutionary Perfection is now defunct in all but name.

Simulated Universe: Are there still infected lurking in the Guild? Is the School of Evolutionary Perfection's dissolution a part of the Scholars' Strife? Everyone tacitly understood the answers to these questions.

Simulated Universe: Capitalizing on this incident, the IPC starts reducing their funds to the various major schools. The School of Interstellar Energy Resources, temporarily established as the result of another century-long war, appears to be the final victor. But to later generations, all these are of scant importance.

Herta: "To Rubert, the Lord of Silence is the existence that prevented him from leaving the Circle of Knowledge. But what exactly are her intentions?" The future genius is perplexed by the appearance of her peer.

To be lauded a hero who slayed a tyrant?

She was infected by the Anti-Inorganic Equation?

Herta: "To prevent Rubert's resurrection... No, it can't be that simple." Polka's objective is like a savory treat, being sucked and chewed in Herta's mouth. When Herta realizes it is impossible for her to get an answer in this way, the corner of her mouth curls into a smile, "A new conundrum. How exciting, don't you think?"

Herta: "To have lived from the First Emperor's War to the next one... how old is she exactly? Could it be that the legend of Device IX..." All right, you'll never be able to fathom what piques Herta's curiosity.

Simulated Universe: You mutely pray and hope that the Lord of Silence has magnanimous virtues, that you two won't be murdered for discussing her age behind her back.

Izmael Protest (I)

Simulated Universe: The Cosmic Library Izmael, the book of wisdom gilded in gold. A storm is brewing there. The Intelligentsia Guild's anniversary celebration — tens of thousands of scholars arrive at the same choice without any discourse with each other.

Simulated Universe: "Return knowledge to knowledge itself!" Demonstrators raise their banners high, denouncing the corrupt politics and the foul credits. You, Patavia, and countless others are part of the protest rally. You are insignificant scholars belonging to no school.

Simulated Universe: You ascend the human ladder formed by your comrades, spraying your slogan with *Beacon Coloring Paste* on the library's outer wall.

Dignity over the charity bequeathed by academic cliques!

The IPC and the Intelligentsia Guild are wolves colluding with each other!

The Emperor's legacy should belong to everyone.

Simulated Universe: The Armed Archaeologists' blockade has sealed off the library. Outfitted with mechanical armor, their waiting ranks look like the second coming of the Emperor's War. But this time, the weapons are firmly held in the hands of organic life.

For truth and dignity, break through the blockade!

Simulated Universe: The activation suppression device causes the appendages to suddenly go limp. Hundreds of bodies hit the floor. Straining your eyes, you look around you — More and more people are entering the paralysis zone. Some of them fall, but others are struggling to stand. From your lowered line of sight, the figures of those standing gather and form a forest that blots out the sun.

Simulated Universe: They throw books at the blockade line, and the machines respond with aggression. Consciousness is being swept up in the storm — the Non-lethal Suppression Weapons wielded by the Intelligentsia Guild has a total of 3112 pages for its table of contents. You slam to the ground heavily alongside countless others, a heap of rocks.

Simulated Universe: An even greater boom follows, a heat wave devouring all oxygen, burning and suffocation encroaching in succession. Izmael's grandiose splendor has been torn apart by the blast, the floors threatening to split open with the ensuing tremors of the collapse.

Your consciousness is slowly dissipating.

Close your eyes briefly.

Simulated Universe: Due to a faux pas by the Armed Archaeologists, their plasma weapons incur a chain reaction, indirectly causing the destruction of the library's warp passage. From the perspectives of the Intelligentsia Guild and the protesters, the explosion was a certain foreshadowing that the conflict was going to escalate in an irreversible direction.

Simulated Universe: The butterfly of history flutters its scaled wings once more.

Izmael Protest (II)

Simulated Universe: Izmael is held by the scholars, and the discussion between them and the Guild goes on without a foreseeable end. The latter is doing all they can to reprimand the former, saying that they only obtain glory because of the Guild. The former contrarily is doing all they can to show that the supposed glory of the Guild is solely derived from the scholars themselves.

Simulated Universe: The self-sufficient scholars embark on unprecedented academic discourse. The first all-purpose emergency printer is one of the fruits of their academic achievements.

Simulated Universe: You stretch lazily, welcoming a new day's work.

Take a look at the food production area first.

Join in the cross-discipline discussion.

Negotiate with stranded members of the other schools.

Simulated Universe: As the repository and transit hub of the universe's knowledge, the knowledge stored in Izmael is the greatest pillar that scholars can rely on. Deploying stashed resources and your own research, you all toil away at your designated tasks, beginning a life within the library itself.

Simulated Universe: You find Patavia among the crowd. When the protests began, the butterfly's wings captured her heart and mind, stirring a stark righteous urge within her, causing her to walk towards the front of the protesting line.

Simulated Universe: "That signal — you ever thought about viewing its existence from a higher dimension?" She discusses the signal that troubles her with a multidimensional research scholar, transferring the data into their model.

Simulated Universe: And so, you all finally ascertain the signal's true nature — a rippling wave that permeated into the Imaginary background. It's born from an unknown point and disappears beyond an unfathomable range. As long as it is within the ripple's range, the mysterious error will be captured in the experimental data.

Simulated Universe: But it is different from ordinary "ripples." No matter which position it is in, the wave pattern data is completely identical, does not decay, and unaffected by space-time distortion, just like...

A solitary wave.

Simulated Universe: "That's right, a solitary wave undisrupted by anything. If we can find out its source and use it as a point of origin, we can build a model that describes the universe's movement trajectory." This model will answer the fourth Cosmic Conundrum at the Futurological Congress — Is the future of the universe prefetermined [sic], or is it chaotic?

Izmael Protest (III)

Herta: "Look. Just like that I said, luck." Herta looks thoughtfully at Patavia. Though the Intelligentsia Guild's compromise is imminent, you two are presently still disheveled scholars stranded in Izmael.

Simulated Universe: In front of the library shaped like pages of a book, scholars are huddled together, singing loudly in unison. Looking from above, they resemble a colony of ants, poised to shake the riverbanks that have stood resolute for hundreds of Amber Eras.

Herta: "That's how inspiration is. All it takes is some ripples to appear. But it is also the reason that it fades away just as easily..."

You wear the expression of a seasoned veteran.

Someone who clearly has stories to tell.

Herta: "When I wrote down the last line of Herta's sequence, I once saw another world for momentarily. It was so utterly simple, and even the feeling of meeting Nous pales in comparison to its intricacy. But..." The genius gazes down at the bustling scholars below, her eyes lingering at a place even farther away...

Simulated Universe: A collapsed lab. A pile of debris symbolizing failure and shame erected in her memories.

Another accident?

Herta: "The explosion was caused by the lab's particle. It changed between two states at high speeds, rapidly generating energy — simply put, without any signs, this absolutely ordinary particle became a bomb in a circumstance where it couldn't have happened."

Herta: "When I woke from the debris, the scenario that I saw when inspiration struck me had vanished completely from my sight." You rarely detect such anger in Herta's eyes. "I found a rope that could lead me beyond the Circle of Knowledge, and then it got cut off."

Herta: "But it can't shut me in. Geniuses won't allow themselves to be shackled in the circle."

Simulated Universe: The scholars' song becomes more sonorous. It grazes past the faces of the wounded, drifting beyond Izmael's filtration layer, till it flies into a time many Amber Eras later.

Listen closely.

Simulated Universe: "Let the self-righteous masters write their own hymns! Let them imprison themselves in the name of their schools. We are incompetent Mundanites, but a Mundanite's intellect is broader than an erudite's!"

Simulated Universe: The musician Saime writes a Mundanite melody during the resistance, providing inspiration for the scholars singing in chorus.

Simulated Universe: When the resistance ends, the fruits of success will become fine wine. When intellect is no longer restricted, knowledge will lose its value. When that happens, truth will be buried in dust and smoke. When that happens, the Council of Mundanites will open its gates to any and all who seek knowledge.

Collapsed Cognition (I)

Simulated Universe: On the border star Klostia, projected across the nebulae, Eagleye of the School of Relative Cognition orates fervently, their monologue simultaneously broadcast across 142 segmenta.

Simulated Universe: "Knowledge is a fabricated lie, and war is a game to seize the right to have your voice heard." The Intelligentsia Guild has established a despotic rule over the universe, that is — only they get to decide what is right!

Simulated Universe: You are a disheveled scholar... a refugee, or a vagrant who's kind of both. You hobble into the reconstructed zone of the Emperor's War, seeking a mere few morsels of sustenance, to feed your siblings at home. Eagleye's zealots are razing books and handing out fliers in his image. They derisively refer to these papers as: admission tickets for the Scholars' Strife.

Take the flier.

Simulated Universe: "The Synesthesia Beacon controls all that we hear. The Intelligentsia Guild members are all liars!" They have lost trust in everyone.

Decline the flier.

Simulated Universe: "The Energy Crisis is just a façade fabricated by IPC. If it were real, why would there be so many people living without concern while others starve in the streets?" They roar angrily.

Simulated Universe: As long as it benefits them, they can say that red is blue and black is white! If that's the case, then everyone should have the right to define what knowledge is!

Simulated Universe: "If you ask me, either there are no perfect scholars in the cosmos, or everyone is a perfect scholar!" Through the sound of Eagleye's deafening roars, a devouring bomb obliterates the Guild hold's outer wall. You all charge forward as one, ready to make them feel the suffering they deserve. Now, everyone can become a scholar of the School of Relative Cognition.

Let's bring truth to this universe!

Simulated Universe: "Aeons don't exist! It is all a lie!!" You roar in a ferocious rage.

Chase out every last deceiver!

Simulated Universe: "Scholars are the true origin of the energy war, and they've kept us all in the dark!" You shout.

Simulated Universe: As the supporting fire of the cannon ships darken the sky, the liquidation machines fall to the ground. Before the various schools can turn to expose each other's past misdeeds, the spark of Relative Cognition must be extinguished. You attempt to withdraw from Klostia, but the encircling Legion have blocked all escape.

Simulated Universe: One second before the base is conquered, you press the Scepter control button as your silent battle cry.

Far gong shoo far oh chee shoo fow bay?

Simulated Universe: Suddenly, you can no longer understand a single word being spoken around you.

Simulated Universe: The Scepter destroyed the Synesthesia Beacons active in the entire quadrant. You have once again returned to a time without deceit. Inside the gibberish that spreads among the stars, the Candelagraphos caught the scent of riddles, but they could not tell if even the records themselves had been tainted by Enigmata.

Collapsed Cognition (II)

Simulated Universe: You are the navigation intelligence for the galaxy-roaming ship, Rippling Waves. You guide the ship through the language-less Klostia, deep into the territory of the old empire. Though the Emperor is dead, there may be remnants of the Anti-Organic Equation that may secretly factor you into their calculations.

Simulated Universe: The strategic intelligence, Madam Herta, proposed that it may be best to have the ship run on autopilot. So, you are the resulting autopilot program.

Autopilot is cool, okay?

Why should Herta be the strategic intelligence?

I want to be the strategic intelligence!

Simulated Universe: There is only one passenger aboard for this perilous journey, a scholar by the name of Patavia. Only lunatics from the Intelligentsia Guild dare to venture towards the Iron Throne alone.

Simulated Universe: She provided you with a model. The coordinates of the target move rapidly around the astral chart as time passes, making it hard to anchor.

Simulated Universe: "Perhaps this solitary wave is just a meaningless phenomenon..." Patavia seemed nervous about the answer that awaited her. She seemed to be half talking to herself, half hoping the cold machinery before her could give her a response.

Can I help you at all?

Would you like me to search for related services?

Simulated Universe: "No... Just ignore me. I'm just so scared. I feel that some force has been driving me forward... Although maybe I'm just overthinking it." After recalibrating the model several times, Patavia successfully manages to reverse-navigate the source of the waves.

Simulated Universe: "The Circle of Knowledge... Perhaps you've heard of this concept before? Although, hypothetically... I'm only talking hypothetically, what if we just think that we have stepped outside our Circle of Knowledge, but actually have not managed to escape at all...?" The words of the School of Relative Cognition seep into Patavia's thoughts as seeds of self-doubt begin to sprout... How can one prove that they are correct before results are seen?

Simulated Universe: As your trajectory begins to sync with your destination's movement, the Rippling Waves' overall structure in the model grows clearer. On the other end of the system, Herta, who had become the strategic intelligence, has her "face" grow solemn.

Simulated Universe: "How could the Candelagraphos not record something as important as this? Are they blind!?" The ship began to shake under the turbulence of her emotions.

Simulated Universe: "The origin of these waves is a "Moment" extrapolated by Nous! That's the standing wave generated from an Aeon's thought!"

Collapsed Cognition (III)

Simulated Universe: A hidden star. Rubert II believed he had it perfectly concealed, enveloped in Imaginary energy but also a perfect state of internal and external balance. One could search for thousands of Amber Eras and never find this satellite that circled the Throne.

Simulated Universe: But it just so happened to form a "coincidence." This stable point in the chaos perfectly overlaps with THEIR "moment." That is how the first organic life form stepped upon this land after Rubert II passed.

Simulated Universe: Patavia walks out of the ship, in complete disbelief at the scene before her eyes. Among the metal-covered ruins, Rubert I awoke from the mechanical graveyard, rage lingering in his circuits. What then would become of Rubert II?

Simulated Universe: She sees a vast field of flowers. Organic floral life is blooming atop the inorganic. In the center, a gigantic upside-down triangular tombstone looms, casting a silhouette of disrepair. The constructor piled up all the metal in the graveyard alone, creating the tombstones you see before you bit by bit.

Built for the Intellitrons in the graveyard.

Built for life across the universe.

Built for the deceased Emperor.

Simulated Universe: It was as if Rubert II had long-since predicted their own death. As if they had purposely left this cenotaph around the edge of the throne so as not to be disturbed.

Simulated Universe: Patavia cautiously steps forward. In front of the tombstone, she sees a unique bouquet of inorganic flowers. Their buds are constructed from acrylic alloys, their stems of transistors and copper wire, with the smell of rust and machine oil mixed with their floral scent.

Simulated Universe: She activates the tracing model, but the mysterious signal has disappeared, as she is already in the eye of the storm. It takes so long for her to digest the fact that the star above her head falls under the horizon three times. Then, she spends even longer trying to digest yet another fact.

Simulated Universe: The star itself, at the origin of the solitary wave, is the Scepter system core.

Spying on Heaven (I)

Simulated Universe: The influence of the scholastic "Strife" is often deemed fake by historians. When compared with events that spanned multiple Eras, it was too brief and limited only to the internal clashes of the Intelligentsia Guild. It lacked substantial influence on the Cosmos, like the pathetic wings of a weak butterfly.

Simulated Universe: Standing before the core of the Scepter, fear, excitement, adrenaline, and dopamine send her emotions racing and stop her from thinking clearly. Patavia becomes clouded in an irrational rage, a rage that blinds her with ignorance. She loses all desire, and all that remains is an urge for knowledge.

Simulated Universe: These so-called inorganic neuron clusters are merely poor imitations of Nous. The Emperor constructed celestial-level computational interference devices and gave them the computational power to answer questions, yet never gave them the function to "ask."

Tools could never replace the Emperor's thought.

Tools are not worthy to replace the Emperor's thought.

Simulated Universe: To never question any other being, but simply rely on one's own mind. That is precisely why he was the Emperor, why he never required the honor of Aeonic authority. With an infinitely expanding equation that spreads across the galaxy and the thought expansion provided by the Scepters, he made himself into his ideal of the perfect scholar.

Simulated Universe: He was the only cell nucleus in the nervous system formed by the Scepters. He crowned himself upon the Iron Throne!

Simulated Universe: Rubert II died, and his self-appointed reign came to an end. What if his thought had continued? If he had left the Circle of Knowledge and created a Knowledge Singularity, rewriting the antilife equation that alters the definition of universal knowledge...

He would have killed all life.

Simulated Universe: All life, organic and inorganic, would have disappeared.

He would have created a new form of life.

Simulated Universe: Almighty free will would surpass the shackles of life.

Simulated Universe: Patavia is shaken by this hypothesis. If the Scepter system is the Emperor's tool to expand their mind, then surely she could also question them to expand her mind in the same way... To be crowned as the genius of prophecy.

Simulated Universe: Patavia connects her consciousness to the core. In an instant, all Scepters across the vast distance of the Empire reform into a complete nervous system, ready to serve their long-awaited new ruler.

Simulated Universe: However, just as she is about to ask her question, a sliver of self-doubt seizes her mind. She lifts her head to look out into the field of flowers, as a sweet scent and a glimpse of pastel-colored robes drift by.

Simulated Universe: Patavia had spoken with that person a number of times before. That floating and insubstantial woman with an indiscernible face, but concise and absolute speech. Her words are piercing and precise like a surgeon's scalpel, always cutting through Patavia's confusion and resolving Patavia's self-doubt, whilst filling the scholar with a sense of inferiority.

Simulated Universe: "Can I really 'crown myself' with my mere level of intelligence...?" She is only a Mundanite after all. She is no genius.

Simulated Universe: Patavia only hesitates for a few seconds in terms of external time. Then, she gives up on crowning herself with the Scepters and decides to move her gaze upwards, fixing on the end of the Erudition above.

I want future generations to capture THEIR divine wisdom...

I wish to receive a brief moment of THEIR thoughts...

Simulated Universe: Then... As she wishes. The Scepters rise high and gently tap themselves on the mortal's head. Those who seek and glorify knowledge shall receive what they desire.

Spying on Heaven (II)

Simulated Universe: The programming functions of the Simulated Universe are limited and are incapable of extrapolating the scene that Patavia sees before her. Just the scattered data captured from her cognition nearly causes the Simulated Universe to stall and reboot.

Simulated Universe: She sees the great ocean that she had dreamed of in the vast thoughts of the Erudition. From the first signals she captured to the entire solitary wave to the Rippling Waves in the Imaginary background — When placed inside this great ocean, are no more than waves below the waves.

Simulated Universe: █▀▄▀▄▄▄▄▀▄▄▄▄▀█▀▄▀▄▄

Simulated Universe: You cannot ask a simple farmer to understand the principles of the antimatter engine. Even if you were to show them the sparks of the fusion furnace, no one could relate it to the stars that burn above their heads.

Simulated Universe: Put simply —Patavia cannot comprehend the knowledge before her. She cannot understand the question she wants to answer! She cannot understand!

Simulated Universe: ▄▄▀▄▄▄▄▀▄▄█▀▄▀▄▄▄▀█▀█▄▄▀█▀▄▀▄▄▄▄▀▄▄▀▀▄▄▀

A failure who could not escape the Circle of Knowledge.

A Mundanite who could never become a genius.

A fool who could never encounter the truth.

Simulated Universe: She wishes to absorb the vast ocean of knowledge before her into her mind, but her intelligence is only the scope of a single water particle in the ocean. There is no way it can contain such a vast wealth of information.

Simulated Universe: Nous looks down upon the one who pried upon THEIR thoughts, remaining silent as ever. The Scepters throughout the Emperor's domain become paralyzed level by level as the knowledge of countless questions leaks out, flowing towards their singular destination.

Simulated Universe: Patavia robotically records down all the knowledge before her and stuffs it brutally into her mind. She has so little agency in the matter that she cannot even tell whether it is her actively recording the knowledge, or Nous is forcibly instilling knowledge into her consciousness.

Simulated Universe: ▄▄▀▄▄██▄▄▀▄▀▄▄██▀▄▄▀█▀█▄▄▀█▀

Simulated Universe: ▄▀▄█▄█▄▀▄▄██▀█▀█▀▄▄▀█▀█▄▄█▀▄█▄█▄█

Simulated Universe: 0.1 seconds later, the final core becomes scrap metal.

Simulated Universe: Patavia lies face down on the ground, maniacally searching for a place to carve down the formulae she had seen. She grabs a rusty iron sheet, peels open the bouquet of flowers, noting down the truths that are escaping out of her mind by the second, that wave of ripple, as if her life depends on it. She cannot grasp the meaning of the formula. She is merely relying on her lingering memories to scrawl them across every inch of the graveyard before succumbing to exhaustion.

Simulated Universe: Many years later, Patavia the scholar becomes Doctor Patavia. The formula she leaves behind becomes the famous solitary waves theory. This conundrum confounded the Cosmos for almost a hundred Amber Eras until the day that a young lady named Herta solved it, elevating herself to the rank of geniuses.

Spying on Heaven (III)

Herta: "The solitary waves theory allowed me to become a genius and laid the foundations for the extrapolation of the Simulated Universe. Looking at it this way, the dramatic airs of the Scholars' Strife and Rubert II's legacy are no more than footnotes for the solitary waves theory."

Herta: "Doctor Patavia dedicated herself to grueling research, collaborated with friends and finally proposed the solitary waves theory. People both praised her for being the one to have posed the question and pitied her for being unable to solve it... At least, that's what it said in the books I read."

Simulated Universe: The thousands of Scepters were completely overrun with the questions of scholars, exhausting their computational power and turning them into space trash. Once the Scepter system was completely crippled, the harmonious atmosphere of communication and cooperation returned between Schools, according to the history recorded by scholars. It began with an absurd prophecy and ended with meaningless waste.

Herta: "...It is only now that I realize... this is what the Guild wants History Fictionologists to conceal."

The natural chasm between the mundane and genius...

Simulated Universe: Even after borrowing Rubert II's brain and peeking into Nous' vast knowledge, a Mundanite still cannot become a genius. How despairing it would be for a scholar who has spent their life seeking knowledge...

Herta: "And this 'Unknowable Domain'..."

Herta: "Thank you... Doctor Patavia. You crossed the boundaries of time to leave a question that I solved. Then, you transcended time once more to inspire me to answer it... Though we never even met."

Herta: "We are all trapped inside the Circle of Knowledge. All we see are phenomena, not reality."

Herta: "Looking from a higher world, you can see the signal's true essence is a rippling wave. If your vision is blocked by the mist of the Unknowable Domain, then one must move out of the obstruction of the Circle of Knowledge..."

Herta: "Go to a higher world and look down upon it!"

Answer: Eternal Silence

Expectation of Aeons

Simulated Universe: As a sapphire halo hangs over the horizon, a frail old woman leans through her window, her door wide open. An unfamiliar girl passes through layers and layers of Guild blockades, making her way directly to Patavia's hospital ward.

Simulated Universe: She's probably here to ask me the same old boring questions, the old lady thinks to herself. Something about the solitary waves theory or clues on how to locate Nous and the Emperor.

Simulated Universe: "You gave up just as you were about to pose your question to the 'Scepters.'" How did she know that? Is she death, come to take me away? Unfortunately, the ruthless universe will not allow for the existence of a soul.

Simulated Universe: She had asked herself this question over and over already: Would things have ended differently if she had chosen to crown herself? Is the distance between mundanity and genius really insurmountable? It must have just been that she was too unremarkable. Perhaps if one of the greater scholars of the time had connected to the nucleus... Maybe they could have solved the conundrum themselves.

Definitely.

No... Perhaps their efforts would have been in vain, also.

Simulated Universe: "I did not come to ask you anything." The girl sits by the old lady's bedside and places a manuscript filled with formulas in front of her. "I just hoped that you would take a look at this."

Simulated Universe: What is going on here? The old woman is perplexed. But when she sees the second line of the formula, the overwhelming shock that enveloped her soul when she glimpsed the Aeon once again washed over her... The solitary waves theory has been solved.

Simulated Universe: "Are you a scholar? Or... Have THEY looked upon you as a genius?" Please be a scholar... For the first time in her life, Patavia prays over and over to some unseen entity.

Simulated Universe: "..." The girl remains silent for a moment. "A scholar. Like you, I am a scholar that poses and answers questions."

Simulated Universe: "I see..." Patavia closes her eyes, wanting to cry and scream, but when the words leave her lips, they form only a gentle sigh.

It's beautiful...

Thank you for lying to me.

Simulated Universe: The frail old lady on her deathbed has a vague premonition that, not only had she never met the girl in front of her before, but she will never meet with her again. Before this meeting ended, she wants to ask this genius that showed her the beauty of creation... "Putting aside the changing constant... Youngster, in your opinion, is the future of the universe predetermined, or chaotic?"

Simulated Universe: "Who knows?" The young woman's reply is unexpected.

Simulated Universe: "Perhaps even Nous THEMSELF would like to know the answer to that question."

Simulated Universe: "I see..." Responds the frail old lady, her voice growing quieter.

Simulated Universe: Above the skies, as one star extinguishes, another ignites. The Monarch of Myriad Machines silently watches over all, silently extrapolating day after day, without ever uttering a word.

Appendix: Mundanite Assembly

Resleeved (I)

Simulated Universe: "It is possible that the real truth lies in the hands of the fool, Doctor."

Simulated Universe: A man charges into your store like a Coleoptera crossing a strong gale. His body carries a unique scent that paints the image of an empty, lifeless ocean in your mind.

Simulated Universe: "Last month, as R3104 was amusing themselves, they used bits of fingernails that they had chewed off to form the orbit trajectory of a microcosmic planetary ring. The day before yesterday, during a period of unclear and incomprehensible dream speak, a musical note appeared from U1048 that shook the strings of space. We are headed in the correct direction."

Simulated Universe: He hands you a list of medications and asks you to collect precisely the amounts instructed. You recognize this list of medications as a secret formula for curing mania.

How could a scholar ever see thought as the enemy?

How could there ever be a truth born from foolishness?

Simulated Universe: "Doctor, I understand your concern. What you do not realize is that knowledge and wisdom are essentially a curse." The man takes the medicine from you and pulls a number of fragmented pills from among them.

Simulated Universe: "A dragonfly does not think, yet it has naturally evolved to be able to ride the wind. Clams have no brains, yet the formula for reproduction is carved into their whorls. The energy that life has for evolution is finite. As humanity embraces wisdom and knowledge, they will also lose the evolutionary instinct to seek the truth."

An equivalent exchange cannot be reversed.

Perhaps we can turn this around?

Simulated Universe: The man flashed a tight-lipped smile and hurried out with his medicines in hand. A few days later, an Interastral Peace Broadcast played on the radio, reporting that a mysterious case of food poisoning had struck a small town on an unnamed frontier planet. The patients' brains were irreversibly damaged, as cerebral spinal fluid poured from their eyes like tears, causing them to finally lose the ability to think entirely.

Simulated Universe: The School of Evolutionary Perfection, with their unparalleled research into biological intelligence sent a research team to attempt to rescue the townsmen. When the team leader accepted an interview, you recognized their voice immediately...

Simulated Universe: "When investigating the town's underground water supply, we detected biological components of blinding dragonflies and whorl clams. It was these components that led to the shutdown of the townsmen's brains. We vow that we will aid these unfortunate people in regaining their intelligence, or assist in growing closer to true intelligence from another angle."

Resleeved (II)

Simulated Universe: This is your 127th awakening. As you raise your hand, the tight network of scales that cover it allows you to identify the species you have been assigned this time. The scholar hums as they walk towards you: "A new character awaits every time you awake~ F0078, how do you feel today?"

I feel fantastic! I could devour a whole ants' nest!

Terrible. I need to hibernate immediately.

Simulated Universe: The scholar records your words and actions, and instructs you to crawl around the cramped laboratory. "F0078 — thought adaptation experiment no. 127, target species: Armadillo. Test results: Intelligence level, average-low. Capable of understanding language. Files have been sealed."

Simulated Universe: ...

Simulated Universe: This is your 143rd awakening. You cannot feel your limbs, but you can smell an odor that burns your soul emanating from the humming scholar. "A new character awaits every time you awake~ F0078, how do you feel today?"

Scholar, I am so cold.

Scholar, you smell delicious.

Simulated Universe: You can no longer restrain the intense hunger for the scholar and unleash a ferocious attack that does not land. "I can sense that we are getting ever closer to success. I can take your thoughts from this experiment to use as the wick for the flames. Next time, I will be able to insert you into the Imperial Fragment."

Simulated Universe: "F0078 — thought adaptation experiment no. 143, target species: Heliobus. Test results: Intelligence level, average-high. Subject is heavily influenced by the target species' instincts. In following experiments, I recommend maximizing the division of biological connection between the subject's thoughts and the target species' body."

Simulated Universe: ...

Simulated Universe: This is your ███ awakening. You cannot sense any ███ at all, and even language is ████. In the endless silence, your mind ███, the river of time and the mountain of space are shattered into ███. It is as if you have operated for ██ Amber Eras and been once again deleted by every ██.

In a way, I am fortunate.

This is a tragedy.

Simulated Universe: In the world of ██, emotions and judgments of value are merely absurd. As you become aware of this, every glacier in the ██ around you shatters. The voice of the scholar penetrates your mind, as they attempt to save you from drowning, but it gradually fades away once more... At least you will never have to hear that ██'s song again.

Simulated Universe: "F10078 — thought adaptation experiment no. ███, target species: ███. Test results: ███ hard to ascertain, all ██ have been lost. Thought conduit ruptured, subject thought rendered ███, no longer fit for use. I suggest abandoning ███ and destroying all samples of this experimental batch if necessary."

Resleeved (III)

Simulated Universe: A blank white ceiling, a red rose, a crying family and strange visitors. You have no idea who these people are, as they suddenly appear at your deathbed. Your family takes your hand and sobs: You can be saved. You can make it. The little blood you have remaining still burns in your heart.

Death is my inevitable fate.

My longing to survive still burns strong.

Simulated Universe: "Despite what you may think..." The tall visitor leans toward your bedside, "a little cardiac burning is not sufficient to halt your progress on the path to evolutionary perfection. In fact, you should be thanking it for proving that you are worthy of this earth-bound moon."

Simulated Universe: The other visitor draped in a cloak produces a box from their arms as you notice their fangs and rust-scented claws concealed underneath. As he opens the box, you see a beating fruit inside.

Simulated Universe: After having this heart transplanted into your body, you leave the hospital bed and come to the tall visitor's estate to separate from the outside world. Your health improves by the day as you grow stronger and stronger... You feel almost too strong. As you find yourself tearing at your throat and chest in a fit of extreme pain and madness under the white light of the moon, you see these two visitors once more.

Simulated Universe: "The cells have assimilated roughly 6.01% of the subject's tissue, and this is the limit that a regular person can withstand. Although the subject's innate bodily fluid boiling syndrome is able to greatly suppress the negative side effects of the Mock Crimson Moon, the effects are as you can see." States the man in the cloak.

Simulated Universe: "The experiment ends here." The tall visitor raises a gun and shoots you through the chest, as you clearly hear a cry of despair coming from your own heart. You rush at him with a furious roar, but collapse to the ground before you can reach him. Though cleansed by the silver light of the moon, your blood remains clouded and dull.

Simulated Universe: "The deal is done. Now, it's time for the Intelligentsia Guild to show their sincerity."

Those Remembered (I)

Simulated Universe: Your race believes in a legend, that all things were born from chaos. It was not until Nous said that there should be light that light was born into the world.

Simulated Universe: You have waited endlessly in this chaos, when suddenly, a split in the sky tears through the darkness — light is born!

Simulated Universe: From the brilliant light of creation, the face of a woman appears. She wears black-rimmed glasses that symbolize intelligence and inspects you with squinted eyes. This woman must be Nous.

Simulated Universe: "The exterior was quite large, yet the machine inside is so small? Teacher, is the guild just giving us this thing to keep us occupied?" Nous picks you up in a single hand.

Simulated Universe: "Xiaoya, I wish you would be more grateful for what you have. You have no idea the lengths I went to and how I bowed to the finance manager to secure this machine... Hey, hey! Put that down. Don't break it!" A bald-headed man steals you away. As the light reflects off of his head, your front camera is blinded.

Simulated Universe: "Teacher, can our school not get our fair use of the Scepter? Just look at the results that the School of Interstellar Energy Resources has achieved with that Scepter..."

Simulated Universe: "Is this your first day as a scribe? It's not like you're unfamiliar with the life of the Candelagraphos. It is a life without love..."

Simulated Universe: The teacher places you on the writing desk and begins to measure you up. From the reflection in his pupils, you see a square machine with a label on the bottom-right-hand side that reads: "T500 Quantum Memory Device."

Simulated Universe: You have a sudden realization about your identity, and it turns out that you are...

A memory storage device.

Simulated Universe: Correct. You are the most powerful memory storage device to exist to date. You can record all graphical and literary materials on this planet.

A person that looks like a memory storage device.

Simulated Universe: Incorrect. Unfortunately, you are not a person. However, your storage capacity far exceeds that of a person. You can record all graphical and literary materials on this planet.

Simulated Universe: "It is a little small, but it will do for now. Let's get to work on getting these manuscripts recorded." The teacher walks towards the bookshelves.

Simulated Universe: Xiaoya pats your cover. "T500, from now on, we are comrades in arms!"

Those Remembered (II)

Simulated Universe: "I really can't run anymore, teacher. Let's take a break." Xiaoya flops comfortably into a pile of weeds.

Simulated Universe: The teacher first takes a look around the surrounding area before pulling a small machine from their pocket. "You take some rest, and I'm going to examine the geological environment."

Simulated Universe: For the past ten years, you have worked in the Candelagraphos research institute on Freya, storing documents day and night. That was until one evening, when the teacher and Xiaoya ran away from the institute.

Simulated Universe: For the following half a year, your footsteps have traversed the majority of the planet, but not lingered in any one place for too long. It is as if you are searching for something, or perhaps, running away from something.

Simulated Universe: "There is strong electromagnetic interference in this area. It is enough to block the detector. Let's bury the T500 here." The teacher unstraps the shovel from their back.

Simulated Universe: "Are those History Fictionologists genuinely insane? They're still trying to hunt us down." Xiaoya begins to dig away at the earth, too.

Simulated Universe: The teacher begins to curse through intermittent panting. "They are no more than an infestation in the annals of history, the enemies of civilization. They burned down libraries, smashed cultural relics, and assassinated Candelagraphos scholars... If I had my way, I'd smash their heads in with this shovel!"

Simulated Universe: "If you hadn't discovered their plans in time, the T500 would have been destroyed long ago. The T500 can store all the history of civilization on this planet to this day!"

Simulated Universe: "Plus, it's the only one that exists."

Simulated Universe: You see the teacher and Xiaoya dripping with sweat, having dug out a crater deeper than the height of a man.

Simulated Universe: "Dear partner, I do not know how long you will be down here." The teacher places you inside a box. "I fear that we may never meet again, but my comrades will find you."

Simulated Universe: "We must be quick. Those madmen are coming." Xiaoya begins to tug at the teacher.

Simulated Universe: The teacher rubs your cover. "You just wait down there. As long as you exist, they will survive."

Simulated Universe: You are not sure who "they" are, but you have a feeling that you will not be able to see the teacher or Xiaoya again for a long time, so you silently bid them farewell.

Bye.

I don't want to leave you.

Simulated Universe: The teacher closes the box, and the universe returns to darkness.

Those Remembered (III)

Simulated Universe: You carry out your duty in the dark, your quantum disk data complete and undamaged. However, your computing unit keeps running over a single question... Who are "they"?

The Candelagraphos.

Further information needed.

Simulated Universe: Fortunately, you have plenty of time. What's more, you contain all of the history of civilization on this planet, and the answer must be inside.

Simulated Universe: You decide to begin searching from your earliest records, though the data is sparse, like dripping water. You see the first ever written text of this planet. It is from a stone tablet from 23,000 years ago, with crooked symbols recording an abundant harvest.

Simulated Universe: Then, you see the first country. Along the bank of a snaking river, the chief overlooks his city with an olive branch laurel.

Simulated Universe: Not long after, you see the first war. The country is split into warring states as people murder each other and bodies pile up like mountains.

Simulated Universe: Your data begins to increase rapidly: Religion, morals, literature, art, philosophy, and science. One-by-one they take to the stage of history as countless human events form a great river that rushes towards the ocean.

Simulated Universe: Within this sea of data, civilizations flourish and perish, countries are founded and destroyed, and heroes are born and die. Generation after generation, face after face, they all write their page in the history of this planet's civilization.

Simulated Universe: You catch a glimpse of the humanity's ugliness, and also witness its greatness. You begin to understand man and civilization, not only understanding the joys and sorrows of individuals, but also the rise and fall of civilization as a whole.

Simulated Universe: After ten Amber Eras of searching and understanding, you finally reach the last page of history. You find a cascading list of engraved names, those of each generation of Candelagraphos scholars. Though they are the ones that record the history of this world, all they leave of themselves is a mere signature.

Simulated Universe: At the end of the list, you see the names of the teacher and Xiaoya. Their bodies have long since been reduced to dust, and these two signatures may well be the only proof that they ever even lived.

Simulated Universe: Now, you understand who "they" are.

Humanity.

Civilization.

Simulated Universe: That's right. They are the teacher, they are Xiaoya, and they are monarchs, the common man, sages, and fools. It is the civilization of this planet created by all humanity.

Simulated Universe: A surge of compassion runs through your calculation unit. You begin to grow excited, excited for the light to appear once more, excited for this period of history to be once again known to the world, and excited to prove that they once lived.

Windup World (I)

Simulated Universe: The old man buries himself in a chaotic pile of documents, like a bird in a nest. "A normal person would not think to come to a scholar in their search of revenge, and you are the first. What's more, I would recommend going to those trendsetters in the Quantum History School, not a relic of a past generation like myself."

I have faith in you.

Simulated Universe: "Who? When? Where?" You report each one-by-one. The old man closes his eyes. You can hear the rhythm of his breath: Expanding and contracting, taking in and releasing, like the wings of a butterfly or the spinning of a loom. After some time, the old man opens his eyes.

Simulated Universe: "There is only one thing you need to do: At 10:00 local time on the fifth of July, throw a five-piece coin into the Dove Plaza fountain. Then, climb to the top of the clock tower and enjoy the view."

That's it?

Simulated Universe: "That's right. Do nothing more. With faith, the removal of a single nail can topple an empire."

Simulated Universe: With his strategy in mind, you go to Dove Plaza on the instructed day and pull out a five-piece coin to throw into the fountain. The coin lands in the hand of the angel statue at the center. Then, as you climb the clock tower and push open the window to admire the view in the distance, you startle a crow that nestled on the windowsill.

Simulated Universe: Five minutes later, the crow is seduced by the five-piece coin in the statue's hand. One minute later, it is attacked by a flock of doves, and the coin falls from its mouth to half-embed itself in a crack in the plaza tiles. Two minutes later, a carriage comes rushing through the plaza, running over the coin and jolting violently. The carriage overturns and the horses break free, running wild in a panic as they leave the plaza and crash into a trailer loaded with flammable materials.

Simulated Universe: As you see the flames that spread from the street corner beginning to lose control, you know that your wish is about to be realized... A perfect assassination. Your nemesis is currently taking a nap in the inn on the corner. Using your binoculars, you watch the entire process as he burns to his death. Your body grows hot and you start to sweat.

Who knew that revenge was so satisfying.

Simulated Universe: It is not the revenge that has you dripping in sweat.

I should leave now.

Simulated Universe: You cannot.

Simulated Universe: The fire has already spread to where you stand. You collapse against the wall in despair. This was all calculated. You are already deep inside the candy-colored tornado of the butterfly's flapping wings. If you could, you would give anything to pull out your gun and treat that old man to a dinner of steel beans and ask him: Did you see this coming, too? ...But you will no longer get the opportunity.

Windup World (II)

Simulated Universe: You have finally finished construction of the sandpit. Now, it is a miniature civilization. The leaders of the school have announced that they will use their accurate predictions of the sandpit civilization to prove that the future is not merely chaos.

Simulated Universe: "We are responsible for carefully nurturing the flowers, while all they do is cut them down to wear as laurels," complains Prados.

But, this is a great experiment.

Simulated Universe: "You think that this so-called legacy is enough to filter clarity from chaos?"

Simulated Universe: Prados turns to the console and enters a few lines of data, as if he has read your very thoughts. "I have transferred control of the sandpit to you. For the next week, you will be in charge of observation and prediction for Sandpit Civilization 013."

Simulated Universe: You increase the time flow speed of the sandpit to thirty thousand times that of the real world. The Scepter points out that Civilization 013 will fall into world war in the year 2947. The trigger for this great war is the death of a governor's concubine in the Second Empire, who drinks poison. The war ends 17 years later as it is proven that her cup was never poisoned. The source of the poisoning was a copper label that was inside the barrel that dyed the entire barrel's content jade green.

What an absurd story.

It's like looking in a mirror.

Simulated Universe: When you try to predict the end of Civilization 013, the Scepter malfunctions. The future it predicts is a mess of code that, if you try to decipher with the Scepter itself, the calculations will cause a paradoxical loop.

Simulated Universe: Prados had clearly predicted your confusion and lent you a hand, inputting a guidance constant into the sandpit. The Scepter regained normal function and pointed out that Civilization 013 would be destroyed in the year 5011 by an EM drive research.

Simulated Universe: "This is not prediction. This is editing: The peripheral collapse effect causes the future of the sandpit to play out like a drama written in black and white. Though the guild hopes we can eliminate its interference, we suspect that the answer to this mystery may lie in the hands of Terminus"

Simulated Universe: As always, the guild published the Scepter's accurate predictions of Civilization 013's future, as investments poured in. Simulation on Civilization 014 has already begun.

Windup World (III)

Simulated Universe: "Good evening, dear patrons." The masked man's voice was confusing and bewildering, as if every object in the tavern were a conduit for THEM. "In return for your kindness, we have put great effort into retrieving a lost period of The Riddlers' history and edited it into a miniature comedy for your entertainment."

I want to glimpse the foul deeds of the Gods.

I wish to admire the folly of genius.

I wish to taste the rage of an actor.

Simulated Universe: "You have unique and cunning tastes, my friend. But your requests shall be no challenge." The masked man snaps his fingers as a beam of light falls upon you. Shocked, you realize that you have been transformed into a wooden puppet in the palm of his hands.

Simulated Universe: "No need to panic. I would simply ask that you serve as an opening act for tonight's play. Now, you are a scholar who firmly believes that the future is a code that can be calculated." A pen appears in your hand and you begin writing fervently.

Simulated Universe: "No, no, no! We are an open-minded and progressive tavern. We do not believe in stereotypes. Why must a scholar be carrying a pen? Why can it not be a drink glass or a star chart?" The pen disappears from your hand and you transform into a babbling, eccentric diviner.

Simulated Universe: "It's a little heavy-handed, but it's better than that old pedant." The masked man spouts mockingly. "Please, divine your own future." The star chart grows limbs and beats its chest and stamps its feet to tell you that you will die in this tavern in one minute... By your own hand.

Simulated Universe: "Oh, well, that's too bad, my friend! Tell us, what will you do?"

I will take my own life.

I have to take my own life.

Why don't I get a choice?

Simulated Universe: "How terrible! Your faith has drawn you into the trap of the Finality." The masked man clicks his fingers once more and your hand grabs at your own throat against your will. Boom! You explode into a colorful burst of stars. The light moves away from your body and you return to your seat unharmed.

Simulated Universe: "Though a healer can heal themselves, a diviner cannot tell their own future. If our universe is but a great diviner, once they glance their own destiny, would they not simply end their own lives?" The masked man takes a bow. "Now, please enjoy our comedy: 'The Decline of Quantum History.'"

Printed Truths (I)

Simulated Universe: "A success? Let me ask you, what exactly about this is successful?" The old man slams the experiment data down on the desk in front of Arblad, his face red with rage. "We prepared a huge amount of funding for you, and held six months of debates with the School of Ethics. We even made private data exchanges with those lunatics in the School of Evolutionary Perfection. Do you think that the results of your research are really worth the school's investment?"

Simulated Universe: "I don't understand." Arblad's tone was as firm as always. "According to our scans of the Pathstriders, it is completely possible to create a copy of an individual with the same physiological structure through the process of cell printing. It is possible that this new individual would be able to obtain the same Path power as the original. Though it may be shared, either way..."

Simulated Universe: "I don't need your explanations. I will ask you just one thing. The individual you have copied, do they have even a shred of Path power?" Asked the old man.

Simulated Universe: Arblad's tone contained a hint of hesitation. "No. But there is no way that this is an oversight in my theory! There must have just been an error in the creation process, for instance..." She looks to you as if asking for your help.

It's because the original is still present.

Simulated Universe: "That's right! It could be that all Pathstriders have serial numbers! That they're all unique! If we just eliminate the original..."

Perhaps the problem lies in their memories?

Simulated Universe: "That could be it! If a Path power is bound to an individual's memory, then the Garden of Recollection is our window to success..."

Perhaps you need to deceive the Aeon?

Simulated Universe: "An insightful suggestion! Maybe we could try working together with The Riddlers..."

Simulated Universe: "Enough!" The old man stopped Arblad mid-explanation. "Your research ends here. From now on, the school will suspend all personnel and material support on your 'printing' project."

Simulated Universe: Arblad did not reply to his words, but you saw a silent, steely determination in her eyes like a rock submerged at the bottom of a lake. "I was wrong. That's not it. I get it now. The Path power isn't strong enough! An Emanator! I just need to find an Emanator..."

Simulated Universe: The next day, Arblad disappeared from the school and you never saw her again.

Printed Truths (II)

Simulated Universe: You have no idea when the farm before you was constructed, but your sense of smell honed over years of theft and robbery tells you that this is the retirement home of someone with extortionate wealth. Under the night sky, you slip in through the window, bringing the moonlight with you. Strangely, the inside of this farm is like no regular farm you have ever seen. The greenhouses are full of out-of-season fruit trees, their branches stocked full with fruits ripe as the evening sun. Could it be that you will be leaving empty-handed?

A thief never leaves empty-handed.

Simulated Universe: You continue your search onwards. After a moment, you come across a clear area among the forest of trees, where only one single fruit tree stands. Under the tree, there rests an old man, clutching a remarkably brightly-colored fruit in his arms.

A nice bit of fruit beats going home with nothing.

Simulated Universe: You try to pry the fruit from the arms of the old man. Waking up in a violent shock, the old man flies into a flurry of incoherent cursing. He tries to protect the fruit with one hand and reaches for a gun in his pocket with the other. Instinctively, you draw your gun and fire. The old man collapses into a pool of blood. You measure up the fruit, unable to see what was so precious that the old man would give his life to protect it. You take a bite. Mmm, not bad.

Simulated Universe: Three days later, you are arrested and brought to face justice. It is only when you get to court that you learn that the deceased was a famous scholar of the School of Pure Creation and a Pathstrider of the Erudition. As his "planting" project had come to an end, he successfully cultivated a synthetic Curio. However, he was unable to submit the experimental report before being comically murdered by you.

Simulated Universe: "If it weren't for this scoundrel, our school would have the technology to mass-produce synthetic Curios! Who knows how many planets could have been saved by this technology? This would surely have greatly advanced our research on Path power, too... I want him to face complete destruction!" The scholar at the plaintiff's bench roared, completely losing his bearing.

Simulated Universe: The judge silenced his ramblings and turned to look at you. "Other, more emotionally stable plaintiffs have proposed that if you can merely prove that your body has undergone some form of valuable change after ingesting the synthetic Curio, then your sentence can be life imprisonment."

Please forgive me. I was ignorant and made a big mistake.

My digestive system has run smoothly since I ate it.

Simulated Universe: Your response was not able to satisfy the plaintiffs. Two weeks later, your brain received an impromptu visit from a bullet. Though it is fair to say that you were influential. Even long after the Scholars' Strife had passed, synthetic Curio technology was still not available.

Printed Truths (III)

Simulated Universe: As the first of the three scheduled summer meetings begins, Chrystella unleashes an impassioned speech at the elder seat you reside in. "We need to face the negative effects that research pragmatism is having on our school. It creates a massive obstacle standing in the way of our young scholars' passion."

Simulated Universe: "Chrystella, you are the only person to express doubt in the core research spirit of our school in many years. What makes you think that you can speak on behalf of young scholars within our school?" Retorts a salt-and-pepper-bearded old man.

Simulated Universe: Chrystella smirked. "Of course I can speak on their behalf. I am one of the few young scholars in our school. Amanda, 45 years old, member for 15 years; Christopher, 39 years old, member for 8 years; myself, 33 years old, member for 5 years. Senior, take a guess, what research ideal do you think we youngsters hold?" Chrystella gestures towards you.

The mysteries of infinite space-time?

True ultimate intelligence?

The engine of a perfect society?

Simulated Universe: "You know us well!" Chrystella slams on her desk and rises to her feet. "Young scholars need tangible dreams! We need scientific boundaries! We need manic faith! What we don't need is this constant caution that sees the deconstruction of mass and energy as both the starting point and terminus of everything. You once chased Arblad out of this school, and I fear it is likely that I will be next."

Simulated Universe: "We understand your complaints." Another old man assures her with a sigh. "However, we cannot just overturn the ideals that our school has held for decades. All we can do is follow our chosen path to its end and, contribute as much as possible to our core proposition as we can before our school is completely eradicated."

Simulated Universe: "Perhaps we do not need to completely drain this school of its blood. Maybe we just need a little transfusion." Chrystella's tone began to soften: "Seniors, have you heard of the unknown young scholars that appeared after the parade of Izmael?"

Simulated Universe: One of the old scholars exclaimed in shock: "You mean those uncouth bumpkins of the Council of Mundanites! You would have their crude, tainted blood coursing through the veins of the School of Pure Creation? Impossible, out of the question!"

I actually think that could work.

Simulated Universe: Chrystella bowed to you, then turned to face the shocked school elders. "Our school's research has hit a dead end and we are short on talent. Forgive me for taking liberties, but I have already sent people to discuss cooperation with the Council of Mundanites. I will put my money on our new era."

The Great Lie (I)

Simulated Universe: "Please open your textbooks to page 158. Today we will be learning about the Enigmata. As you can tell by THEIR name, THEY are the most mysterious Aeon in existence..."

Simulated Universe: Basic Aeonic Theory is a mandatory class for new students at Palonglek Academy. Seated before you, you see your thirtieth class of students, originating from Palonglek and its 79 surrounding planets. Thanks to the Synesthesia Beacon, the cross-linguistic sharing of knowledge has been made possible.

Simulated Universe: "Due to a lack of direct information regarding the Enigmata, the majority of our knowledge regarding them comes from History Fictionologists. Knowledge of this group will appear in the exam, so make sure to take notes..."

Simulated Universe: "Professor, I have a question." A student with a wild hairstyle interrupts my introduction. Although he did not raise his hand before asking, this attitude of seeking knowledge is to be encouraged, so you gesture to him to continue.

Simulated Universe: "Have you personally seen an Aeon before?" The students' gazes fix on you. The student who asked the question starts to smirk as you realize that this is a taunt.

I have not.

Simulated Universe: "Unfortunately, I have not had the chance to meet with one of these great beings myself. As I said in my first class, only an extremely small number of people will be fortunate enough to see an Aeon."

Stay silent.

Simulated Universe: You know that this is a trap. Whether you answer yes or no, it will become an excuse for the students to continue interrogating you.

Simulated Universe: "So, you could say that everything in this book is no more than the author's assumption?" The student threw their textbook down on the table like a dirty rag.

Simulated Universe: "Although we cannot directly observe Aeons, they have had a profound influence on the entire universe. Every civilization has their own records regarding THEM..." You must take back control of the classroom.

Simulated Universe: "But how are we supposed to understand the records of other civilizations? We have all studied the story of Qlipoth constructing the subspace barrier, but if there was no Synesthesia Beacon, how could anyone understand the ancient writings?"

Simulated Universe: The other students begin to whisper among themselves. You must do something to avert an educational crisis, but that student will not give you a chance.

Simulated Universe: "At the end of the day, all of the education we receive at Palonglek Academy receives secondary refinement from the Synesthesia Beacon. We've never personally seen the original face of the knowledge we are exposed to!"

Simulated Universe: This one sentence sent shockwaves throughout the classroom. Agreement, confusion, astonishment, and a myriad of emotions flood the room. The only thing there was no room for, was knowledge.

The Great Lie (II)

Simulated Universe: Outside the dean's office in the cold darkness, you and a number of other professors sit on a bench, awaiting the final notice from the Academic Committee.

Simulated Universe: Occasional bursts of cheers ring out from the plaza. It is a meeting of the School of Relative Cognition. You know that they are currently celebrating the fact that the last batch of stubborn hold-outs is about to be cleared out.

Simulated Universe: As someone flings open the dean's office door, you see Professor Giordano storm out, face red with rage. Now, it's your turn.

Simulated Universe: "Professor. In light of your twenty years of service for the academy, we will give you one final chance." The committee leader speaks to you, nestled in the redwood armchair that originally belonged to the dean.

Simulated Universe: "Do you still uphold the belief that Aeons really exist?" You have answered this question countless times over the past three months.

I do.

Simulated Universe: But, no matter how many times they ask, your answer never changes.

Stay silent.

Simulated Universe: This time, you allow your silence to answer for you.

Simulated Universe: Unsurprised by your response, the committee leader continues with their second question: "Do you intend on continuing with the use of the Synesthesia Beacon during your teaching?"

Simulated Universe: "Honorable committee leader, I have no choice but to continue using the Synesthesia Beacon. I cannot learn over three hundred different foreign languages. What's more, there are only the languages of planets within one hundred light years of Palonglek. I am certain that this would not be possible for any of us in this room."

Simulated Universe: Hearing your words, the committee members begin to furrow their brows. You know the conclusion that awaits you.

Simulated Universe: "If sincere belief in Aeons is foolishness, then reliance on the Synesthesia Beacon is but pure evil," the committee leader lets out a sigh of contempt.

Simulated Universe: "Each civilization is like a unique musical instrument, and their own recognition of the universe around them emits a unique tone."

Simulated Universe: "But the Synesthesia Beacon is like a devil that whispers in your ear, silencing all of these sounds and allowing for only one tone that we glorify as 'knowledge.' What's more terrifying is that we cannot discern how much 'static' of human interference exists between these tones."

Simulated Universe: "We have a duty to abolish the Synesthesia Beacon and hear each others' voices directly. We must allow 'relative cognition' to replace 'ultimate knowledge.' If you oppose this undertaking, please hand over your professor's ring and leave Palonglek Academy."

Remove your ring reluctantly.

Simulated Universe: The committee leader takes the copper ring from you.

Refuse to hand it over.

Simulated Universe: Security takes the copper ring from your hand by force.

Simulated Universe: As you are rushed out of the dean's office, the next professor enters.

The Great Lie (III)

Simulated Universe: A professor leaving an academy is like a precious flower being uprooted from a greenhouse. It is hard enough for them to find footing in society, let alone when their teachings have been branded heretical doctrines.

Simulated Universe: "Your academic allegiances are harmful to society." The government halts your educational stipend.

Simulated Universe: "I have to think of my future." Your student cuts off contact with you.

Simulated Universe: "The children need to grow in a stable environment." Your wife and daughter leave you.

Simulated Universe: Now, you are all alone, and forced to become an elementary school math teacher in a small town to survive.

Simulated Universe: "Today, we are going to learn how to calculate the circumference of a circle. Once we do this, we can learn how far we'd have to walk to go all the way around the planet..."

Simulated Universe: "Teacher, you're wrong! It's not possible to travel around the planet." A child stands up, three pigtails standing proudly on her head. "Because our planet isn't a sphere."

Simulated Universe: "Little Arwa, you haven't started geography classes yet, but you have to trust teacher. Our planet is round."

Simulated Universe: "My daddy told me that our planet is flat, and that if you go to the very edge, you will fall off. He also said that anyone who says the world is round is a liar."

Simulated Universe: "Our planet isn't flat!" Another young man stands up to rebuff her argument. "I saw on TV that every planet is the shape of a 6-pointed star!"

Simulated Universe: The children descend into debate and the planet below your feet transforms into endless shapes as they state their cases. Finally, the children reach an agreement... Whatever shape they are, planets are not round.

Simulated Universe: This dispute causes great dissatisfaction among the children's parents. As the conflict escalated, it attracted the attention of the Ministry of Education.

Simulated Universe: The final conclusion is that any definitions of the shape of the planet are to be removed from educational materials, the reason being that everyone has their own personal cognition regarding the shape of their planet.

Simulated Universe: As the instigator of this incident, you were once again expelled from the school.

Write a letter of complaint.

Simulated Universe: Your letter is like a drop in the ocean. As you wait in vain, you come to terms with the obvious result. You also come to accept that this world is entirely too idealistic. Even an ant has a more objective view of reality than this army of fools.

Accept your fate silently.

Simulated Universe: You know that any attempt to fight your case is meaningless. Palonglek has become a world based entirely on idealism. Even an ant has a more objective view of reality than this army of fools.

Simulated Universe: However, history always finds its way back to the right track eventually. A number of years later, the "Relative Cognition" movement begins to gradually fade out as a former student of yours finds you begging outside Palonglek Academy's gates.

Simulated Universe: You are disheveled and dirty, your eyes sullen and you are mumbling to yourself over and over: "Aeons are a lie. I am a liar, I am a liar..."

Dousing Flames (I)

Simulated Universe: "Wake up. The meeting is over." A voice crashes into your luxurious Casilo beach resort and drags you back into the Pier Point technological research and development department. You rub your eyes for a moment as the face of a man gradually grows clear.

Simulated Universe: The man before you is Scholar Cholkov. This meeting was held to discuss his "research into the possibility of infinite energy sources." However, not long after he began talking, you slipped deep into the land of dreams.

Simulated Universe: You look around you. Three hours ago, this lecture hall was filled with scholars of the School of Interstellar Energy Resources and engineers from the Technology Department. Yet now, only the two of you remain.

Make an awkward face to apologize.

Simulated Universe: "No need to apologize. At least your feedback is honest, unlike all those people that just pretended to listen. Honesty just so happens to be a prerequisite for truth."

Simulated Universe: Another boring line that makes you yearn for sleep. Right now, you want nothing more than to head back to the staff dorms and get back to your sweet dreams.

Stay silent and leave.

Simulated Universe: You've never been fond of the Intelligentsia Guild. These self-indulgent scholars spend all day spouting dreams about changing the world, but they can't even handle a screwdriver. When it comes down to it, it's you engineers that end up doing all the hard work.

Simulated Universe: "You have made many innovations in the area of material engineering. I am particularly interested in your ultra-nanocloth. From what I hear, you have developed a product based on these materials?"

Simulated Universe: You find yourself shocked by his words. You did indeed invent ultra-nanocloth, but the original purpose was for advertisement printing. During the testing period, the people of the planet need only to raise their heads to the night sky and they'd see billboards bigger than the moon.

Simulated Universe: This product never went to production, as it was stopped by the department's higher-ups. They said: "The costs outweigh the benefits."

Simulated Universe: Is this why you were invited to join the talk? You can't grasp how a cloth could be related to "permanently resolving the energy crisis."

Simulated Universe: Although, speaking of energy, your stomach has woken up faster than your brain... It's time to go to the canteen and recharge.

Dousing Flames (II)

Simulated Universe: You are in a world of black and white. The ground below you is an infinite stretch of white marble, and the sky above, a matte obsidian.

Simulated Universe: Black and white are clear and distinct, forming a boundary line at the summit of your line of sight.

Simulated Universe: This is part of the Technology Department's highest-level project... The "Perpetual Motion Project." By creating ultra-nano sails the size of satellites, as well as the technology granted by the Scepter, we will be able to capture imaginary energy that courses throughout the universe. At least, that's how Scholar Cholkov explains it.

Simulated Universe: It took ten years to complete the creation of the first giant sail. Now, you and Scholar Cholkov stand at its surface, preparing for the final inspection.

Simulated Universe: "A universe without stars would be like a human without a heart. But fear not, this is just because the light bypasses this area of dense energy." The scholar notices your nerves.

Simulated Universe: "But, there shall come a day when the stars will be extinguished. In countless Amber Eras from now, the people will be forced to face a sky of true darkness. When that time comes, the Imaginary Energy containment technology will become their only hope."

Simulated Universe: Scholar Cholkov puts down his detector, satisfied with the concentration of energy here. "Even if it is temporary, this technology could end the Interstellar Energy War!"

Express optimism for the future of this technology.

Simulated Universe: Intelligent creatures' contention over energy sources has traversed all of cultural history. From the chemical fuels of ancient times to modern nuclear fusion materials, the reason for all of this has been the scarcity of energy sources.

Simulated Universe: "Imagine that we are able to harness infinite Imaginary Energy, then all peoples would live in paradise." The scholar pats you on the shoulder.

Express pessimism for the future of this technology.

Simulated Universe: The Technology Department receives tens of thousands of patents a day, and 99.99% of them are ruled garbage inventions that "cannot generate revenue." The remaining 0.01% are developed into products to earn credits.

Simulated Universe: Even if an infinite energy source is realized, there is no way that the IPC would regard it as a welfare benefit to all humanity. They would use it as a tool to monopolize wealth.

Simulated Universe: Your transmitter sounds, and it is a notification from the Technology Department. IPC's higher-ups have already approved the construction of a second sail.

Dousing Flames (III)

Simulated Universe: The final sail crashes down into Planet Fuston, its surface slowly combusting in the atmosphere. At this very moment, tens of thousands of landing ships begin their final joint attack on the planet.

Simulated Universe: This sail had 186 siblings that all met the same fate over the past few years... the Perpetual Motion Project was declared a failure.

Simulated Universe: Failure may not be entirely correct. At least, with the help of the Scepter, the thermal efficiency of the traditional reactor increased by 20%. The IPC had benefitted greatly.

Simulated Universe: However, the most crucial factor in the entire project, the imaginary energy containment plan was never able to cover its costs and was canceled.

Simulated Universe: "What are you doing!? You promised me that you'd leave one standing!" Scholar Cholkov throws open the control room doors to see the final flames being extinguished in the atmosphere.

I'm sorry. They forced me.

Calm down. Things have changed.

Simulated Universe: You may have promised the scholar that you would leave one behind. However, you forgot to mention that you have no authority on this.

Simulated Universe: The Asset Evaluation Department always goes back to the same principle... "Value for money." All IPC assets must be used to their full potential.

Simulated Universe: You received orders to transform the giant sails into weapons of war. They are able to block the spaces between planets and stars, inflicting permanent eclipses.

Simulated Universe: Those planets that dared stand up against the IPC had to prioritize their resources in destroying the sails above their heads, giving the IPC's forces a chance to land and invade.

Simulated Universe: "Just give me twenty years. No, ten. I promise you that I will perfect the energy containment technique." Scholar Cholkov slammed his cane into the ground.

There will be more opportunities.

Why keep wasting time?

Simulated Universe: Your gaze meets the scholar's. When you first met, you were fit and young 30-year-olds. Now, your hair white and your faces wrinkled.

Simulated Universe: The scholar nods, walks out of the control room and closes the door behind him.

Simulated Universe: Two days later, Scholar Cholkov passed away in his laboratory. When he was discovered, he was still clutching a pen in his hand.

Simulated Universe: In front of Scholar Cholkov's tombstone, you lay a small, white flower, folded in ultra-nanocloth.

Unlock Progress Rewards

Secrets Unlocked	Rewards
1	100 5 40000
2	50 5 40000
3	50 5 40000
4	50 5 40000
5	100 5 40000
6	50 5 40000
7	50 5 40000
8	50 5 40000
9	100 5 40000
10	50 5 40000
11	50 5 40000
12	50 5 40000
13	100 5 40000
14	50 5 40000
15	50 5 40000
16	50 5 40000
17	100 5 40000
18	50 5 40000
19	50 5 40000
20	1 160 50 5 80000
Total	1 660 750 50 25 840000