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墨書 Inktalez
The cold porcelain tiles were seeping with Fluorescent Blue Liquid, and it was during the seventh blink of my reflection in the mirror that I noticed something unusual. An arrow made of slime oozed from a crack in the advertisement screen, pointing towards the restroom stall. The Brainwave Analyzer left behind by my father vibrated on my wrist, emitting a series of short and long beeps in Morse Code.
"Countdown to Cognitive Barrier failure: 37 seconds."
As the red pop-up exploded on my Retina, I snapped the rusty Ventilation Duct grille. The inner walls of the Ventilation Duct were covered with Flesh-Colored Mycelium, and for every half meter I crawled, I could see a Neural Synapse Monitor embedded in the metal folds. A Nano Robot was forming a circular diagram of Line 13 in the web of my right hand, while deep within the tunnel, sounds emerged as the Source Code compiled into Chopin Nocturne.
When the capacity of Liquid Quantum Memory dropped below 12%, I finally stepped onto the Black Asphalt spilling from a crack in the pipe and tumbled into a changing room that smelled of disinfectant. The surface of the changing mirror revealed hundreds of Surveillance Footage screens. Five guards in protective suits were feasting on Brainwave Data displayed on a Liquid Crystal Display, while a metallic gleam emanated from a cart piled high with writhing Memory Chips.
I tore off the Holographic Disguise Patch stuck to the back of my neck and discovered a Crystal Cluster Carved Rose pinned to the collar of the last Waiter Uniform I took from the changing room. The Parliament Hall was suffused with the scent of an operating room.
On twelve circular screens, the Brainwave Spectrum of 7.3 billion people pulsed rhythmically. At the far end of a long table sat seven scientists, their projections blurring every five seconds into discharges resembling Neurons. As I carried a tray filled with Electronic Cigarettes across the Security Red Carpet, a Scanner suddenly emitted an alarm reminiscent of Fetal Crying.
"The Einstein Professor requires Neurotransmitter Inhibitor."
I crushed the Cognitive Blocker capsule hidden on my tongue; its sweet mango flavor mixed with Quantum Code surged into my nostrils. When the guard's Pupil Scanner swept over the Beta Neural Signal flickering on my badge, dozens of Brainstem Tentacles soaked in Formaldehyde suddenly fell from the ceiling.
The elevator shaft was filled with the decaying scent of Jasmine Fragrance. The walls of the Doctor's Office were made up of Biological Membrane formed from living brain tissue, and blue-green Cerebrospinal Fluid seeped from gaps in the filing cabinet. When I touched the embossed Mass-Energy Equation on the safe, its door split open into eight petals resembling Neural Synapses, revealing a Parchment Scroll flowing with projections of the Milky Way.
Einstein's signature on the scroll began to dissolve into Quantum Formula, while phrases reading "Dimension Anchor" appeared in thirteen different languages at its edges. Suddenly, a Tear-Shaped Vortex spread across the parchment; as I turned around, I knocked over a mug plugged with Nerve Conduit, triggering a Resonance Alarm throughout Parliament Hall amidst the aroma of Brain Essence Tea.
The glass of the Fire Hydrant reflected thirteen Distorted Figures. The first guard to rush at me had his limbs twisted backward at unnatural angles; from his forehead's exploded Electronic Eye leapt forth the Shanghai Shenzhen Index Code.
As I stuffed the Parchment Scroll into the quantum folding space beneath my ribs, I heard the cracking sound of neurons splitting behind me. Lao Zhao was using a scalpel to slice open the nerve membrane of the Ventilation Duct.
"Their consciousness is locked in a hard drive from 1997!"
Lao Zhao's Mechanical Eye projected a holographic image of the subway design, while three data cables, stained with black grease, protruded from the back of his neck. Suddenly, the ceiling of Parliament Hall opened up, revealing seventy thousand Eyeballs, and a beam of Scarlet light forced us into a collapsing escape passage. Thick, tar-like black mist surged from the Ventilation Duct.
A Nano Robot was etching a complete schematic of Line 13 into the vein of my left arm when Lao Zhao abruptly ripped two of his data cables and plugged them into the exhaust fan interface. As the Liquid Quantum Memory dropped below 5%, we crashed through the mirrored outer wall and fell into an auxiliary tunnel. Fifty meters away, an advertisement screen suddenly displayed Li Ming's three-dimensional projection.
"Dimension Anchor calibration completed at 89%..."
Li Ming's voice was distorted, fragmented like a mosaic, mixed with electronic static. As the doctor’s warning echoed through the vibrations of the drainage pipes, Lao Zhao was dismantling the liquid Quantum Hard Drive in his chest cavity. In the explosive blue light, I saw seven thousand Cultivation Pods suspended in the dome of Parliament—each pod contained a floating face of Lin Xue.
A high-frequency buzzing from the steel tracks resonated at the end of the tunnel. The last three seconds of flashing red light from the Liquid Quantum Memory warned us as countless reflections of myself reached out from the advertisement screen.
At the moment the first laser sliced through the Ventilation Duct, Lao Zhao tore open his own neck skin. "Go find 1998's me at Nanjing Station!" His scream mixed with the scent of machine oil flooded my eardrums. The subway advertisement screen suddenly began playing a global consciousness synchronization countdown from the Deep Eye Council.
My temples started to ooze blue electrolyte fluid, and within the quantum folding space, the Parchment Scroll was burning patterns resembling a Klein Bottle onto my skin. The footsteps of Pursuers behind us suddenly fractured into thirteen languages pleading for help, while headlights deep within the tunnel stretched our shadows into a DNA double helix structure—
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