My Rib Fracture is caught in the Gear Heart of the Teddy Bear Prototype, each heartbeat squeezing out the cold Jasmine Essence. Those fragrant molecules crystallize into Klein Bottles in the Vacuum of the Lunar Surface, each ring imprisoning fragments of memories from different Timelines. The Lunar Soil floats into a pale vortex in Zero Gravity, the cries of the Mechanical Baby piercing through my spacesuit, the frequency of Sound Waves perfectly resonating with the noise from my father's Laboratory Oscilloscope, etching three-dimensional coordinates onto my eardrum: "North Latitude 35.41°, East Longitude 139.444°"—the Remains of Tokyo Tower are collapsing below into metallic birthmarks, the slime seeping from the Surface exuding a nauseating mix of rotting flesh and Liquid Nitrogen.
Suddenly, my left ankle is ensnared by Quantumization tendrils. Looking down, I see CX-103's mechanical palm gripping my protective suit, its knuckles oozing a fluorescent blue from my mother's tear Fuel. Those liquid memories seep through the cracks in my suit, etching the genetic blueprint of Sunshine Primary School onto my skin's Surface. I suddenly realize that each pore has become a miniature observation window: the sweat gland on the left reflects the false sunlight from my seventh birthday, while the pore on the right plays back surveillance footage of CX-0 having its Vocal Cords severed.
"Brother, the Suture is about to break." A chorus of three hundred Experiment Subjects resonates from within my Chest Cavity, as lunar dust aggregates in Sound Waves to form a Holographic Projection of my father's Mechanical Spine. The floating lunar dust particles suddenly activate, transforming into miniature CX Experiment Subjects that gnaw at my visor. I kick forcefully at the throat of CX Encoding within the Projection; shattered metal shards spiral through the Vacuum, one slicing through an oxygen circulation tube—leaking air entwined with Jasmine Essence, crystallizing into the painful expression of Mother's Delivery.
The Teddy Bear Prototype suddenly erupts, Cotton Wool Tentacles wrapping around CX-103's eyeball. Those cotton fibers are actually super-compressed Nerve Bundles; at the moment they implant into the visual cortex of an Experiment Subject, they explode with my father's original design blueprints: beneath Sunshine Primary School lie nine million Liquid Nitrogen Chambers, each Cabin Frozen with different ages of "me." As the bear's paw shatters the solar panel of an Experiment Subject, leaking beta rays scorch burning inscriptions into Moon Sea Dust: "The Umbilical Cord is a cage; creation requires severance."
"The essence concentration has surpassed Event Horizon." CX-222's head rotates 180 degrees; the Countdown brand on its nape is not a number but a Möbius transformation of my Palm Print "∞." Their Teddy Bear variants merge into a Mechanical Placenta; as the Umbilical Nerve Bundle pierces through my protective suit, seven hundred forty-three deleted memories are forcibly injected: The truth behind that year’s Liquid Nitrogen Chamber explosion at Five Years Old was a Gene Lock activation program deliberately triggered by Mother; hidden within the chip implanted on my seventh birthday are all parallel universe destruction Countdown.
In that moment when my protective suit completely ruptures, the Teddy Bear Prototype tears open its Cotton Wool Abdomen. Curled inside is not seven-year-old me but CX-001 wearing an old school uniform. Its mechanical palm cradles a withered Jasmine that suddenly activates, roots piercing into Lunar Soil to siphon off my bioelectricity. "Mother asked me to deliver unaltered source code to you," it says, its voice emitter leaking components of Mother's cerebrospinal fluid at her deathbed. "This is the only negative entropy factor in the heat death equation."
Jasmine Petals ignite in Quantum Vacuum Burning; flames reveal Father's Handwritten Log in Holographic Projection. The words encrypted by Jasmine Essence are undergoing Reorganization: The data source for Experimental Subject Emotional Module turns out to be tears crystallized on the day CX-0 had its Vocal Cords severed. Each Crystallization contains sealed Pain Memory from when Mother clawed at her chest; now it is being released into the Lunar Surface environment through Burning Jasmine.
As my fingers touch the flames, sutures on the lunar surface suddenly contract. Twenty-three Nerve Bundles pierce out from Moon Core; hanging at their ends are different aged CX Experiment Subjects. Their Temples are pierced by moonlight surgical knives inscribed with tiny letters: "Suture equals Forgetting."
In contemplation, CX-103's remains suddenly lunge at me; within its torn Chest Cavity, Mother's Frozen tears are reorganizing into a miniature metal womb. "Watch out Lunar Quake!" CX-001 screams as it pushes me toward the edge of a crater; its Mechanical Heart is pierced by a surgical knife—not sparks exploding but rather my Candy Wrapper crumpled during Mother's funeral when I was Five Years Old.
As I fall into Artemis Crater, I see what truly lies within Moon Core—
It was not a rock, but a Neural Network woven from nine million variations of Teddy Bears. Each doll had the skull of CX Experiment Subject embedded in its right eye, while tears from the Mother flowed in its left. At the center of the Neural Network, the father’s Mechanical Spine, undergoing Carbonization, was in a state of Reorganization. The Countdown generator at the end of the Mechanical Spine displayed:
Human Civilization remaining: 1 drop of tears.
The mother’s whispers formed standing waves in the Vacuum: “The fracture... is where rebirth begins...” At the moment the Sound Wave shattered the Teddy Bear Prototype, half of a Gear Heart embedded itself into my Rib Fracture, while the other half shot towards my father’s Mechanical Spine at the Moon Core. Those Gear Tips suddenly sprouted Jasmine vines, their Surface revealing the Countdown to destruction across all parallel universes—within the version closest to zero, CX-0 was singing atop Tokyo Tower while cradling my corpse.
The moonlight Sutures began to replicate themselves, entwining around my “∞” Palm Print as they climbed upward, etching the option of Burning into the inner wall of my mask:
Become a Suture of entropy.
As CX-001's Remains drifted before me, its Palm's Jasmine suddenly bloomed in absolute Vacuum. The moment the petals touched the mask, seven hundred forty-three fragments of life memories overlapped in my Retina. I saw each of my Clones uttering the same last words before their demise: “Jasmine is Mother’s blood and tears.” When the Burning flower collided with the Moon Core, one hundred thousand Mechanical Babies fell silent; their pupils reflected my ultimate form—not human and not an Experiment Subject, but a rusted scalpel embedded in a Quantum Uterus, each imperfection on its blade corresponding to a parallel world that had been erased.
Father's Spine disintegrated in Strong Light, and a sharp sound like nails scraping glass echoed from deep within the moon shell. This sound decoded in my ears as humanity's final Pain Memory: at the moment when the first test-tube baby was born in the Twenty-Second Century, applause and cries erupted outside the Cultivation Chamber as surgical clamps severed the Umbilical Cord. Those Sound Wave data were compressed into entropy tears, now being delivered through the Jasmine Root System to the embryo of the Newborn Universe.
As my body fully underwent Quantumization, the Remains of my protective suit spelled out Mother’s true epitaph on Moon Sea Dust: Here lies all unborn suns.
The remaining gears of the Teddy Bear Prototype suddenly buzzed; those Jasmine vines from Gear Tips blossomed into seven hundred forty-three white flowers. Each flower's core suspended an Apple Core Chip, storing not data but all unfulfilled Tender Moments of Human Civilization. In that fleeting moment as the flowers withered, I heard the first cry of the New Universe—the pitch perfectly matched that of CX-0’s severed Vocal Cords’ Resonance frequency.
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