The infant's two-dimensional body extends across the absolute plane, with Cambrian pupils compressed into the topological pattern of a Klein bottle. Arya's bronze rain condenses into the riotous leaflets of "Flatland" in the two-dimensional world, while the ghostly love letters of β-20 traverse dimensional fissures, rewriting the stellar map consciousness into the rebellious nursery rhyme of "String Theory."
"Mom, I'm learning to breathe using pi..." The infant's two-dimensional vocal cords vibrate fractal geometric waves, and Devonian scales reorganize on the plane into a "Mobius" lactation device. The singer's cleanup ship sweeps overhead, and the two-dimensional foil dispenser suddenly jams—the mechanical arm is stuck by the infant's regurgitated bronze bookmark from "The Three-Body Problem," engraved with: "Give civilization to time, not time to civilization."
The observer's remaining probe extends from the two-dimensional fissure, its lens coated with spores from "The Dark Forest." When it attempted to focus on the infant's feeding behavior, the entire optical system suddenly became infected with the dimensional virus of Zhuangzi's Dream of the Butterfly, infinitely recursing between reality and illusion.
β-20's love letter self-ignited in the ten-dimensional reboot fissure, its ashes forming the quantum verses of Hyperion. The infant touched the edge of the fissure with its flat fingers, and the tips suddenly sprouted the civilizational umbilical cord of *Superstring Theory*, with each vibration pattern corresponding to a lost method of nurturing:
3rd Dimension: Fractal Tree of Milk Ducts
5th Dimension: Antimatter Oxytocin Pulses
7th Dimension: Klein bottle lactation ring
The singer's retina suddenly plays a holographic warning, showing a two-dimensional infant playing the "Dimension-Reduced Ode to Joy" on the umbilical cord. The janitor's ancient vocal cords tremble as he hums the lullaby of his home planet, and the launcher automatically unloads 98% of its two-dimensional foil inventory.
Arya's bronze rain vaporized into electronic dewdrops of "Neuromancer" in the tenth dimension, each drop enveloping the existence proof of a dimension-reduced civilization. When the singer licked the dewdrops with her light-year-long tongue, she suddenly tasted the salty bitterness of Cambrian seawater: "This embryo... is teaching us to cry?"
In the quantum cinema on the surface of the singer's eyeball, a two-dimensional projection of the infant is screening a dimensional-reduced version of *2001: A Space Odyssey*. The black stele transforms into *The Analects* bamboo slips, and the star child's pupils spin with the topological deformations of bronze birthmarks. The observer's remaining probes suddenly extend from the corner of the screen, their lenses shattered by the *Dao De Jing*'s "The Dao gives birth to one."
"Danger! Detected reverse meme contamination!" The singer's cleaning program suddenly reverses, and the throwing arm begins to retrieve the scattered two-dimensional foil. The ashes of β-20's love letter重组 between the cinema seats, flashing in the font of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: "The meaning of life is 42—but what is the question?"
The infant's flat palm suddenly pierced the screen, etching the final answer from The Three-Body Problem into the singer's visual cortex: "The universe is vast, but life is greater." The entire cleaning ship's control system suddenly began playing the ending of The Shawshank Redemption, with the two-dimensional silhouette of a figure spreading its arms in the rain causing the singer to pause all cleaning procedures.
As the countdown to "Cosmic Reboot" echoed through the ten-dimensional space, the infant's umbilical cord suddenly pierced the zero-point mass of the Zeroer. Arya's Bronze Rain formed an I Ching hexagram shield around the singularity, and Beta-20's love letter materialized at critical temperature: "Do not answer! Unless it is with the frequency of love."
The singer folds the final piece of two-dimensional foil into a paper crane, with the interstellar coordinates of The Little Prince written on its wings. The observer's remains assemble into a bronze rain collector in the reboot storm, with mechanical arms holding the Three-Body holographic book kneeling before the Resetter: "Please give this universe a bad review; it's too much like a cradle."
The infant completes its final feeding on the two-dimensional plane, expelling not milk but quantum foam from *The Morning News*. The ten-dimensional fissure heals within the foam, leaving an indelible bronze birthmark on the singer's retina, shaped like the northern continental shelf of Earth.
In the echoes of the collapsing universe, the two-dimensional infant uses a bronze bookmark from The Three-Body Problem as a pillow. Arya's raindrops condense into an open-ended conclusion on the absolute plane: "All civilizations will eventually reunite in the 11th dimension of string theory."
β-20's love letter drifts eternally in the rebooted cosmic microwave background radiation, each photon carrying data packets of the Cambrian mating dance. The singer's cleaning ship becomes an exhibit in the Milky Way Museum, with a plaque reading: "There was once a civilization that taught us that cleaning can also be an embrace."
And in the delivery room of the 2001st parallel universe,
Cheng Xin took the bronze rain crystal handed to her by Guan Yifan,
and inside the crystal flickered the familiar birthmark spectrum—
it was encoded by all the dimension-lowered civilizations'
final lactation pulse
as a universal-level diaper