Chapter 532: The True Form of the Two-Dimensional World! The Integrated Circuit Data Body!
Once the fall from a three-dimensional world into a two-dimensional one begins, it never stops. It is like water flowing down from a high place—higher dimensions will continually slide into lower ones.
Only when the entire universe collapses from three dimensions into two will this dimensional strike temporarily come to a halt.
And the speed of dimensional collapse is the speed of light, which means the two-dimensional fall triggered by the two-dimensional foil will spread outward from the Trisolaran system at light speed.
One day, this dimensional strike will inevitably reach the Solar System.
The Solar System is only 4.2 light-years away from the Trisolaran system. At the current rate of expansion of the two-dimensional foil, it will arrive in four years, and humanity will suffer the same tragedy as the Trisolarans.
For the two-dimensional foil, destroying both the Trisolaran system and the Solar System is merely a matter of time.
As the Trisolaran system's two-dimensionalization gradually approached its conclusion, the second and third stars also sank into the two-dimensional plane one after another.
At this point, the Trisolaran system had turned into a vast curtain of zero thickness—a frozen tableau of the starry sky, forever fixed.
The two-dimensionalized stars gradually dimmed, their core regions losing radiance rapidly, until only their concentric ring-like structures remained visible.
The radiation zones continued to darken. The light and heat that had surged for billions of years fell into stillness, turning into sticky, sluggish motion. The convection zones warped and collapsed, until they vanished completely.
The stars' outermost golden layer of gas became like withered leaves, permanently devoid of vitality.
The only certainty was that in the two-dimensional world, gravity still existed.
Those solar prominences floating in space, having lost the support of radiation, were slowly pulled back by stellar gravity.
Everything of the three-dimensional world perishes after falling into two dimensions—no three-dimensional life can exist on a zero-thickness canvas.
Of course, in the two-dimensional universe there would also be stars, planets, and lifeforms, but they would operate under an entirely different mechanism and pattern.
Sadly, such a sight could never be perceived by the naked eyes of humankind.
Inside the War Moon headquarters, the senior executives fell into deep contemplation.
This was humanity's first time witnessing the attack methods of a higher civilization—one no less devastating than the law-level weapons wielded by the Universal Megacorp.
The Megacorp also controlled many world-ending weapons on the level of cosmic laws, such as the Big Rip and Vacuum Decay, both capable of effects similar to dimensional collapse.
But the Megacorp's technological weapons were too explosively destructive, leaving almost no room for recovery, whereas the two-dimensional foil at least preserved the existence of a two-dimensional world.
As long as civilizations could preemptively modify themselves into two-dimensional forms, they could survive this apocalyptic disaster.
Time, however, was running out for the Universal Megacorp. In four years, the Solar System too would be forcibly flattened into two dimensions. If the unification campaign could not be completed by then, they might be forced to use the Aether Phase Engine.
"We can't stay here any longer. We must return to the main universe immediately. Let the Science Nexus Department handle it—use the Aether Phase Engine to draw everything out of this place."
Song Zhaomei's tone was resolute. She had a gnawing intuition that a catastrophe capable of shattering the entire universe was approaching rapidly.
The longer they lingered, the greater the trouble they would face. By then, retreat might no longer be an option.
The Universal Megacorp still had the chance to withdraw from the Trisolaran universe. With the Sophon Project, the Waterdrops, and the maximized evolutionary potential of the Trisolaran civilization, the Megacorp could still accomplish unification in other universes.
There was no need to lock horns to the death here.
But Morgan Blackhand voiced his challenge:
"Then what about the unification mission? Even if two-dimensionalization is irreversible, surely there are ways to slow or obstruct the process?"
He was unwilling to abandon any universe lightly. Besides, the great catch of this universe had yet to surface. Wouldn't it be better if they could win over the godlike civilization lurking behind the scenes?
Yet Song Zhaomei simply did not believe those godlike civilizations would truly choose to cooperate with the Universal Megacorp.
Because the very foundation of this universe was endless suspicion—the cosmic equivalent of shadows and axe murders. The Megacorp might extend a hand of friendship, only to be met with slaughter.
It must be remembered: the wealth these godlike civilizations had accumulated might not be any less than the Megacorp's own.
"We don't need such uncontrollable friends. Now that we have the Trisolarans, the fate of other civilizations has nothing to do with us."
Song Zhaomei argued firmly.
The Megacorp had already unified too many universes. Expecting perfect dominion in each was unrealistic—they would always need to make trade-offs.
In just four years, there was no time to establish contact with the Reducer civilization. This universe was vast, yet lacked proper faster-than-light channels.
To rally numerous civilizations in such a short span, unify their ideologies, and fold them into the Megacorp—it was simply too difficult, and might well mean inviting wolves into their house.
The Megacorp had endured to this day precisely because of its caution. Why jeopardize its foundation for such a meager gain?
"I also agree we should leave the Trisolaran universe. We can easily control the Trisolarans, but not other civilizations."
At this moment, Lucius also spoke in support of Song Zhaomei's position. They had already been away from the main universe for five or six years.
Without sufficient logistical support, negotiating with so many civilizations and forcing swift victories was utterly impossible.
Their best option was to promptly employ the Aether Phase Engine to drain this universe, obliterating all its lurking demons and monsters.
The Universal Megacorp did not need that many godlike allies.
Moreover, Governor Li Ang had been absent from the main universe for far too long. Though Xeelee night-fighters allowed some communication, a king ultimately must return to his throne.
Power never tolerates a vacuum. Who could guarantee the Emperor would remain dutiful to the Megacorp forever?
"Are you so easily cowed by a mere two-dimensional foil? If we encounter other law-level weapons in the future, are we just going to abandon the unification mission again, like today?"
Jack Wells snapped back sharply. He was always the representative of the radical faction among the upper echelons, his status secured by his illustrious military achievements.
In an instant, the factions were locked in fierce dispute. Only the scientists of the Nexus Department, led by Alt Cunningham, remained collectively silent, awaiting Li Ang's word.
Civil and military officials alike had their own alignments—only the Nexus Department, directly under Li Ang, never took sides, obeying solely his commands.
As the arguments raged on, Li Ang still stood alone at the central console, quietly observing the real-time images that had now become a single straight line.
He ignored his subordinates, instead studying the fine details of these straight lines.
Some were continuous, some were broken, others bore one or two small gaps.
They seemed to suggest a pattern that could not be easily put into words.
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"Is the first sophon still there?" Li Ang asked.
[It's still there, but escaping the two-dimensionalization is extremely difficult; the two-dimensional foil keeps pursuing it.]AI Europa responded.
The expansion speed of the two-dimensional foil was the speed of light. Without a dark-matter wormhole as an escape channel, the sophon could only maintain a relative distance from the continuously collapsing two-dimensionalization behind it.
Since it could never truly reach escape velocity, the sophon could only hover at the edge where the three-dimensional universe was sliding into two dimensions.
It was like a person sprinting frantically on a treadmill—no matter how hard they ran, their distance gained was canceled out by the motion of space itself.
However, the sophon's speed was not always constant; it occasionally adjusted and slowed, which meant it would eventually be overtaken and swallowed by the foil.
Seeing this, Li Ang immediately ordered the sophon to stop moving and to unfold into its two-dimensional state on the spot.
The next second, the sophon instantly expanded into a giant mirror—a geometric plane with no thickness, covered with countless microscopic integrated circuits etched by Trisolaran engineers, glowing faintly.
When the sophon's two-dimensional expansion was complete, the surrounding space also collapsed into two dimensions, becoming a vast zero-thickness screen—just like the Trisolaran system had after being struck by dimensional reduction.
Unexpectedly, after falling into two dimensions, the sophon was still able to send and receive signals normally.
This immediately drew the attention of the Universal Megacorp's executives, who had been locked in debate; they all turned their eyes back to the holographic screen.
Li Ang suddenly understood why the Trisolarans had been able to hold out until the very end—the sophons themselves could unfold into two dimensions, allowing them to obtain information from within the two-dimensional world earlier than any three-dimensional civilization.
This staggering informational advantage was what allowed the Trisolarans to always predict events and deploy seemingly flawless strategies in advance.
"The sophon… it actually isn't dead."
Alt Cunningham and the others froze for a moment, then quickly understood. No wonder Li Ang had ordered the sophon to unfold into two dimensions—so this was its true purpose.
"The Trisolarans really did bet on the right horse."
Even Dr. Halsey couldn't help but exclaim in amazement.
While other civilizations were puffing and panting to build giant warships and cannons, the Trisolarans, with the most limited resources, invested in the technological upgrade path that was the actual correct answer for this version of the game.
No wonder they could laugh until the end.
And the sophon's properties revealed a fundamental point to the executives: the true nature of a two-dimensional civilization.
"They're circuits—or rather, some kind of aggregated data body. What the Singer Civilization is doing is transforming itself into a data body to adapt to the two-dimensional world after dimensional strikes."
Li Ang had already guessed the essence of the Singer Civilization.
Sophon in its essence was a massive etched-circuit lifeform when unfolded in two dimensions. The Singer Civilization was using the same method to remake itself, so that in the two-dimensional world it could still think, communicate—
—and even move by extending etched circuits.
At that moment, Li Ang looked again at the images sent back by the AI drones. Those seemingly unchanging lines now seemed to carry a special meaning.
"They weren't killed by the two-dimensional foil—they were reduced into integrated circuit boards. The AI drones are still running, but in the two-dimensional world the signals they emit appear as these lines of varying length."
Alt Cunningham had an epiphany. Following this line of reasoning, the true nature of the Singer Civilization was not hard to guess.
"They preemptively transformed themselves into two dimensions, remaking themselves as low-dimensional lifeforms."
Alt summed it up. It was just like how in the StarCraft universe, Amon, as a higher-dimensional being, had to use Zerg and Protoss essences to craft a suitable vessel in order to descend into three-dimensional space.
Or like Satan in the Bible needing to incarnate through the body of a demonic child. All those seemingly fantastical myths and legends carried extremely strong sci-fi metaphors.
Higher-dimensional beings could not exist directly in lower-dimensional worlds, so they had to transform themselves.
Once their entire civilization entered the lower-dimensional world, the Singer Civilization could then unleash dimensional strikes on enemies without any scruples at all.
This was far more decisive than endlessly trying to defend against dimensional reduction.
Though transforming themselves meant sacrifice—shedding parts of what they once were and starting an entirely new journey—so long as they survived, there was always hope.
It was far better than the civilizations that simply perished under dimensional strikes.
The universe was vast, but two-dimensionalization would never stop. One day the three-dimensional world would be surrounded and devoured by the two-dimensional. By then, the only survivors would be those civilizations that had entered two dimensions in advance.
"So what we're actually facing now is a two-dimensional civilization—at least one racing headlong into two-dimensionalization."
V mused. If the Singer Civilization was two-dimensional, it actually wasn't that hard to deal with.
The technology and weapons of a two-dimensional civilization were extremely limited in the three-dimensional world. The two dimensions were separated by a barrier, and it wasn't so easy for either side to strike the other.
What's more, at present the Singer Civilization had poured vast resources into its dimensional transformation. In terms of three-dimensional combat strength, aside from the two-dimensional foil and light-particles, they might not even match the Trisolarans.
"Indeed. Most of the time, the truth is counter-intuitive. A higher civilization doesn't necessarily mean it can crush a lower one in every respect."
"The universe's resources are fixed. The Singer Civilization cannot have infinite resources to invest in both two-dimensional and three-dimensional fields. Their expenditures in three-dimensional space must be cut to the bare minimum."
"After all, everything in three dimensions is destined to perish."
Li Ang's analysis, lofty as ever, laid bare the Singer Civilization's reality. By investing everything into becoming data-bodies, they were, in truth, hollow at the core.
"Then doesn't this mean we can actually try capturing that ship—bring back one of the Singers and interrogate it?"
Jack Wells was already eager, itching to rush over with his troops and seize the culprits who had deployed the two-dimensional foil.
"In theory, yes. But in practice… that still remains to be seen."
Song Zhaomei poured cold water on the idea. The Singer Civilization had only diverted massive resources into two dimensions—they hadn't abandoned three entirely.
Even a dying camel is still bigger than a horse. And their three-dimensional combat ability might not be as weak as people assumed.
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