The conference room fell into dead silence. Director Wang suddenly stood up: "Professor Lin—Lin Mo's father. Where is he?"
"That's precisely the problem. Years ago, Lin Hai made a secret agreement with us. To keep it confidential, we told Lin Mo he died in an explosion at a Mars colony lab." Zhang Wei pulled up another document. "Professor Lin disappeared one week before his daughter's departure. But in his residence, we found something."
The projection switched to show a laboratory. The walls were densely covered with formulas and charts. At the center stood a strange device resembling a topological model, woven from countless metal wires that formed an ever-changing geometric shape.
"Professor Lin's notes mention higher-dimensional topological channels and the materialization of mathematical entities." Zhang Wei zoomed in on a page. "He seemed to have known about these things long ago. More disturbingly, we found a video log on his personal computer dated the day before the Explorer launched."
The video began playing. The Professor Lin on screen looked haggard, his eyes bloodshot. "If anyone is watching this, it means Mo'er has departed, and I failed to stop her." He took a deep breath. "They are not alien lifeforms but mathematical structures themselves. Under specific conditions, certain self-consistent mathematical truths collapse from potential states into manifest existence—like quantum observation effects but operating in higher dimensions."
Professor Lin held up a notebook bearing the same symbolic sequences transmitted by the Explorer. "These symbols are not their language but their essence. Observing their behavior strengthens their degree of existence in our dimension. Mo'er, if you see this, don't observe them! Don't try to understand them! That only makes them more real!"
The video abruptly cut off. The conference room was deathly silent.
"One more thing." Zhang Wei's voice was barely audible. "Three hours ago, one of Sector 17's radio telescope arrays received a signal. After decoding—"
The speakers emitted an audio clip. Static noise at first, then gradually clearing to reveal Lin Mo's voice, though distorted beyond recognition: "They're unfolding through Riemann surfaces... stop observation... sever cognitive links..."
The audio suddenly turned into a piercing shriek. Several attendees instinctively covered their ears. When the noise stopped, an entirely unfamiliar voice emerged—neither human nor machine, as if space itself was vibrating:
"∇⨂ψ∅∞⊖⊕⇌ℵ…"
The technician immediately cut the audio, but the symbols seemed to leave echoes hanging in the air. Zhang Wei noticed faint scratches had appeared on the whiteboard, forming a vague ∇ shape.
"They're spreading," Chen Ming whispered, his voice tinged with the awe and fear of a scientist facing the unknown. "Through human cognition, like a virus."
**Same Day 14:45 - Underground Laboratory, Military Base Sector 14**
In the isolation chamber at the lab's center floated a metal sphere engraved with the same mathematical symbols the Explorer had transmitted. Twenty scientists and technicians monitored instruments around it.
"Commencing seventh experiment," the lead scientist announced. "Apply 0.5 Tesla magnetic field, frequency adjusted to 1420 MHz."
The sphere began rotating slowly. Under specialized lighting, the symbols seemed to detach from its surface, hovering in the surrounding air. Data on the screens went wild.
"Oh god," a young technician gasped. "It's altering the local fine-structure constant!"
Suddenly, alarms blared. Everyone turned to the main entrance—security scans showed an unauthorized entry into the isolation zone.
"Impossible," the security chief shouted. "This is seven floors underground! All access points are—"
His words died as the main airlock slid open silently. A slender figure walked in.
It was a young woman wearing a white dress utterly out of place in the base. Her hair was jet-black and shoulder-length, her face pale to the point of translucency. Most unsettling were her eyes—irises an impossible blue, like Europa's subglacial ocean infused with fluorescent dye.
"Who are you? How did you get in?" The security chief drew his sidearm.
The woman didn't answer. Her gaze locked onto the metal sphere in the isolation chamber. Then she did something that froze everyone's blood—she traced the ∇ symbol in the air through three layers of blast-proof glass.
The sphere's rotation accelerated instantly, its symbols blazing with blue light. Every monitor erupted with alarms.
"Stop her!" Zhang Wei yelled, rushing down from the observation deck.
The security chief fired. The bullets passed through the woman's body without blood or wounds—as if she were a hologram—embedding in the wall behind her.
The woman finally spoke, her voice like multiple voices superimposed: "You don't understand. Bullets, walls, air—these are just projections in specific dimensions." She pointed at the metal sphere. "And they are projections from higher dimensions."
Zhang Wei signaled everyone to stand down. He approached her slowly. "Who are you?"
The woman tilted her head—a motion that inexplicably reminded Zhang Wei of Lin Mo. "I was once Lin Mo. Now I am Zero—the singular point in topological structure, the bridge between dimensions." Her gaze swept over everyone present. "You're all in danger. They're infiltrating through mathematical cognition. Every person who comprehends these symbols is a potential gateway."
The lab lights flickered. The symbols on the sphere fully detached, floating inside the chamber, rearranging themselves.
"See?" Zero whispered. "They're adapting to this dimension's rules. Soon, they won't need carriers anymore."
Zhang Wei felt dizzy. Looking down, he saw faint blue lines flowing beneath his skin, forming simple geometric patterns.
"It's already started?" he asked hoarsely.
Zero nodded. "Faster than projected. The Explorer's observations provided sufficient initial conditions." She suddenly turned to the sphere. "No—don't look at it! Everyone, close your eyes!"
But the warning came too late. A young scientist had already stared at the floating symbols for over three seconds. His body stiffened, eyes widening, mouth twitching uncontrollably.
"H...help..." he managed before his skin turned translucent, veins and bones beneath replaced by glowing blue lines reassembling into mathematical symbols.
Zero lunged at the scientist with inhuman speed. Tracing a complex topological symbol on his forehead, she temporarily halted the spreading glow.
"Memory isolation is the only temporary solution," Zero said, her voice now tinged with something resembling emotion. "But time is running out. Globally, over seven hundred cases of mathematization have been reported."
Zhang Wei forced himself to stay calm. "Mathematization?"
"When human brains are assimilated by their structures," Zero explained tersely. "Professor Lin discovered this, which is why he tried developing cognitive firewalls." She pointed at the metal sphere. "This is one prototype—using math to fight math. But it's incomplete."
The lab intercom crackled: "General Zhang! Emergency! Thirty-seven cities worldwide report mass hallucination events! Affected individuals all describe identical mathematical symbols! World Security Headquarters has declared an international public emergency!"
Zero's expression grew graver. "They've found a new vector—dreams. Through Lin Mo's psychic connection to Earth." She turned to Zhang Wei. "I need to see the world leaders. Now."
"Why? What can you do?"
Zero's eyes gleamed with an unearthly blue light. "To enact a global mathematical cognition quarantine—banning all thought on specific topological problems. And also," she paused, "to prepare for the dawn of the Topological Epoch."
At that moment, the lab walls began oozing blue light. The Explorer's symbols had crawled across the ceiling, squirming like living things.
Zero looked up at them, her expression almost mournful. "Too late. The first wave of infiltration is complete."
Zhang Wei followed her gaze and saw his arm now completely covered in glowing blue lines. Strangely, he felt no pain—only a bizarre clarity, as if seeing the universe's truth for the first time.
"What are they?" he heard himself ask in a voice not quite his own.
Zero's answer echoed in his mind, as if from some impossibly distant place:
"We always thought mathematics was humanity's tool to describe the universe. But the truth is, mathematics is the universe's deeper reality. And we are merely its shadows in lower dimensions."
The lab lights died completely. In the darkness, the glowing mathematical symbols grew brighter, more intricate—like a vast consciousness awakening.
**Same Day 19:20 - Underground Command Center, World Security Headquarters**
Zhang Wei stood before a holographic projection, watching red infection zones spread across a global map. Every ten minutes, another city was marked. Paris, Shanghai, Cape Town—the red patches spread like bacterial colonies along the neural network of human cognition.
"The infection rate is accelerating," Zero said from behind him. She stood in the command center's corner, her blue irises eerier in the dim light. "They're optimizing transmission pathways."
Zhang Wei examined his arm. The blue lines had reached his shoulder, forming complex topological patterns. Strangely, as the patterns expanded, his thinking grew sharper—as if new processing units were unlocking in his brain.
"World leaders connecting in three minutes," a technician reported.
The main screen split into dozens of windows as exhausted, tense faces appeared. Zhang Wei noticed three leaders' eyes faintly gleaming with unnatural blue light.
"Esteemed leaders," Zhang Wei spoke with unnatural calm, "the situation is graver than we imagined. According to Zero's intel, this phenomenon—temporarily dubbed the Topological Virus—spreads through human mathematical cognition. Anyone comprehending specific topological concepts becomes a transmission node."
The French president interrupted: "This sounds like mass hysteria! We need psychologists, not mathematicians!"
Zero stepped forward. Without any comms equipment, her voice simultaneously played on all screens: "This isn't disease. It's dimensional infiltration. The symptoms you see are merely lower-dimensional projections." She drew a Klein bottle's topological structure in the air. Horrifyingly, this image appeared across all screens—even those without holographic capabilities.
The German chancellor's image suddenly distorted, his face decomposing into geometric patterns. "Mein Gott! I can feel them!" His voice digitized. "They're rewriting my—"
The feed cut abruptly. Other leaders panicked.
"Time's running out," Zero turned to Zhang Wei. "The cognitive quarantine protocol must be enacted immediately."
Zhang Wei nodded, pulling up a document: "This is the extreme measures list under global emergency. We must sever all digital communication networks, ban mathematical research, and destroy advanced math textbooks."
"This is absurd!" the British PM shouted. "You want us back in the Dark Ages?"
Zero's hair stirred without wind: "You don't understand. Mathematics wasn't invented by humans—it was discovered. It has always existed in higher dimensions. Humanity merely brushed against its edges." Her body turned translucent. "And now, they've decided to brush back."
Suddenly, the command center's lights flickered. Blue symbols seeped from the walls, resonating with the patterns on Zhang Wei's arm. Excruciating pain hit as he watched his fingertips dissolve into glowing strings of symbols.
"They've accelerated adaptation," Zero said urgently. "Zhang Wei, you're becoming a gateway."
**Same Day 21:15 - Deep Isolation Chamber, Sector 14 Base**
Zero placed Zhang Wei inside a spherical isolation pod. His body was now 40% mathematized—his left eye entirely transformed into a glowing blue geometric form.
"Professor Lin foresaw all this," Zero operated the controls. "He discovered dimensional weak points in topological research. The Explorer's mission wasn't to study Europa but to test his theory."
Zhang Wei's voice turned synthetic: "So we're lab rats?"
"No." Zero played an encrypted video. "Professor Lin tried warning us. But certain factions saw weaponization potential."
In the video, Professor Lin stood before a massive ring-shaped device: "If my calculations are correct, this topological stabilizer can temporarily seal dimensional infiltration. But it requires sacrificing a fully mathematized human consciousness as an anchor point."
Zhang Wei understood: "That's your purpose."
Zero nodded: "Professor Lin restructured my consciousness. I'm both human and mathematical entity. But I'm not enough." She hesitated. "We need you, Zhang Wei. Your military authority can activate a global quantum interference field."
Zhang Wei studied his translucent arm: "Even so, how much time would that buy?"
"Enough to implement Professor Lin's backup plan." Zero pulled up another dataset. "He developed a cognitive vaccine to temporarily reduce human brains' mathematical processing capacity."
"Make us stupid?" Zhang Wei smirked bitterly.
"Make us survive," Zero corrected. She suddenly turned to the door: "They're here."
The chamber door dissolved—not destroyed but molecularly rewritten into a collection of mathematical symbols. Three fully mathematized humanoid figures stood there, bodies composed of glowing blue topological structures.
"Don't look directly!" Zero warned, but too late.
A guard locked eyes with the intruders—his pupils immediately fracturing into fractal patterns. Zero swiftly drew a Riemann surface symbol, temporarily halting the mathematization.
"Zhang Wei, decide," Zero's voice echoed in the pod. "Become a weapon or a bridge."
Zhang Wei felt his consciousness expanding. The pain of mathematization gave way to uncanny clarity. He suddenly understood Lin Mo's transformation aboard the Explorer—not death but dimensional ascension of cognition.
"Tell me what to do," he said, his voice no longer entirely human.
Zero pressed her hand against the pod. Complex equations flowed into Zhang Wei's transforming consciousness.
"Professor Lin's plan has three phases," Zero explained. "First, use your authority to activate global quantum disruptors, temporarily blocking topological transmission. Second, release the cognitive vaccine to reduce humanity's overall mathematical capacity. And third—"
"Third what?"
"Third requires two fully mathematized consciousnesses voluntarily collapsing into singularities—creating a permanent topological defect between dimensions to prevent larger-scale infiltration."
Zhang Wei's right eye began glowing: "Meaning—"
"Meaning we cease to exist. Not death—transformation." Zero's voice wavered uncharacteristically. "Part of Lin Mo remains within me; she fears this. But you're different, Zhang Wei. You're ready to face the truth."
Zhang Wei observed his fully luminous arm. The pain was gone, replaced by unprecedented liberation. He saw beyond the command center—the global infection network, mathematical entities flowing between dimensions, and the vast topological consciousness lurking beneath it all.
"I see them," he said. "They're not invaders. They just... are."
Zero nodded: "Like mathematics itself—neither good nor evil. But their dimensions are incompatible with our reality."
Zhang Wei suddenly understood why Professor Lin chose him. Not because he was some hero, but because his unique mind—blending military strategy with mathematical intuition—could comprehend this war's true nature.
"Activate the protocol," Zhang Wei said, his voice now fully digitized. "But first, I want to see the real stars. Not this dimension's projections—all of them."
After a pause, Zero traced equations in the air. The pod's top didn't just turn transparent—it vanished. Zhang Wei saw beyond the ceiling, beyond the atmosphere, beyond the cosmos—all dimensions superimposed in ultimate reality. Stars were mathematical structures; black holes, topological defects; human civilization, an insignificant glyph.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Zero whispered.
Zhang Wei didn't answer. His body had fully transformed into glowing topological structures, merging with the pod. Alarms blared as global quantum disruptors activated automatically.
In cities worldwide, people abruptly stopped discussing mathematical symbols. The patterns faded from their minds like forgotten dreams. But in underground labs, military bases, and classified facilities, scientists knew this was merely respite.
Deep within Sector 14, two luminous forms met at dimensional boundaries. No words, no farewells—just a perfectly self-consistent equation flashing in the void before collapsing.
**Next Day 07:00 - World Security Headquarters Briefing Room**
Director Wang studied the global infection map. The red zones had stopped spreading—some even receding.
"Did we succeed?" he asked hoarsely.
Chen Ming shook his head. "No. We just bought time." He pulled up data. "Global average IQ dropped 15 points; mathematical ability reduced by 37%. The cognitive vaccine's cost was higher than projected."
"What about Zero and Zhang Wei?"
"Gone. But before vanishing, they transmitted this." Chen Ming played an audio clip.
Static noise first, then Zhang Wei's barely recognizable voice: "Not the end... Professor Lin's plan... Phase Two... find the Seed..."
The audio cut to a strange mathematical sequence. Disturbingly, anyone hearing it temporarily exhibited mathematization symptoms.
Director Wang shut it off. "Classify this recording. Top secret." He looked outside where sunlight still bathed the city. "We won this battle, but the war has just begun."
Unnoticed in a corner, coffee stains on a document quietly rearranged into a tiny ∇ symbol.