A silent exchange at a physical terminal, the underlying logic of the collapse protocol

It's late at night.

Beneath the dome of the White Bone Hall, all was silent, save for the cold glow of the emergency lights that outlined the enormous shadows of the pillars.

Lynn walked alone down the empty main corridor. His footsteps were very light, mostly absorbed by the heavy carpet, leaving only a near-silent echo.

At the entrance to Laboratory Zero, two sentries, one from the Stability Maintenance Office and the other from the Internal Affairs Inspection Office, stood like statues. Upon seeing Lynn, they trembled, immediately brought their feet together, gave a standard military salute, and remained silent, their eyes fixed straight ahead.

They were ordered to implement a physical lockdown, prohibiting anyone from entering or leaving. But this list of "anyone" clearly did not include the Director had personally issued the lockdown order.

Lynn didn't stop, walking straight to the heavy Lead-Mercury Alloy Door. He placed his palm on the recognition area, and the red light of the iris scanner flashed by.

"Beep -- Permission confirmed: Director."

After the cold, mechanical sound came the clatter of mechanisms unlocking. He pushed open the door and went inside. The heavy door closed silently behind him, completely isolating him from the outside world.

Inside the laboratory, it was even colder than outside. The air was filled with the unique smell of equipment coolant mixed with metal. The server, named "Strategic Asset 001," lay silently in the center of the quarantine area, all its cables severed at the root, like a Beast with its claws pulled out, shrouded in deathly silence.

Lynn took something out of the alloy briefcase he was carrying.

An old-fashioned mechanical typewriter. Its pure black metal casing and round keycaps exude an industrial aesthetic reminiscent of the last century.

He then took out a thick, heavy Physical Data Cable wrapped in multiple layers of shielding and skillfully plugged one end into an inconspicuous, dusty Nine-Pin Diagnostic Port on the server rack. That was the lowest-level physical path reserved by the engineers to deal with the most extreme situations.

The other end of the data cable is connected to a specially modified interface on the typewriter.

Finally, he turned on a separate monochrome monitor that was not connected to any network.

Having done all this, Lynn sat down in a cold metal chair and placed his fingers on the keycaps of the typewriter.

despair.

A crisp tap.

He only typed one word.

[Verification]

After a moment of silence, a line of green characters silently lit up on the monochrome monitor.

[Authorization verified: Director, Lynn. Verification successful. System is in physical isolation dormant state.]

Lynn's fingers moved again. This time, the tapping was continuous and steady, as precise as a metronome.

Tap, tap-tap, tap.

[Explanation of the "Multiverse Collapse Protocol"].

The characters on the monitor flickered and then began to refresh line by line.

"The term ' Multiverse Collapse Protocol ' is an incorrect name. Based on the data torrent downloaded 1.37 seconds before capture and a preliminary index of the Management Committee's database, the term points to a logical deduction based on a high-energy physics model."

[Inference 1: Among all observable Timeline, there exists a unique, repeatable, ultra-high-energy Singularity.]

Lynn's gaze remained unchanged as he continued tapping his fingers.

[Define "Singularity"].]

The characters on the screen are refreshing faster.

[Singularity, i. e., coordinates: [X-7385, Y-9214, Z-Gamma-001]. These coordinates have been the site of at least 17 energy release events, sufficient to permanently alter the local reality structure, throughout different Timeline.]

[Inference 2: The core triggering mechanism of all 17 escape events is logically strongly correlated with a high-weight concept called "Lynn".]

[Inference 3: This Singularity is the logical starting point for all "Lynn"-related time variations. If the energy structure of this Singularity becomes unstable again, it will trigger an irreversible chain reaction, causing all strongly correlated Timeline to collapse synchronously towards this Singularity.]

really.

Lynn remained unmoved. That was the final location of one of his simulations. The death that time was so horrific that the energy explosion created by the system left an unhealable scar on the underlying structure of the Multiverse.

He stared at the cold characters on the screen, as if he could see himself being consumed by Chaos and flames.

The Artificial Intelligence is still continuing its deductions.

[Based on the above inferences, it is recommended that you, the holder of the concept "Lynn," be immediately placed under the highest level of isolation and...]

The characters stopped abruptly.

Because Lynn's fingertips had already typed a new line of text on the keyboard.

[Your inference is based on incomplete data and contains a high-level logical fallacy. You are not authorized to discuss this topic and this case is rejected. It is immediately archived.]

He used the most standard bureaucratic tone to forcibly terminate the AI's analysis of him.

This is a form of Dimensionality-Reduction Strike. No matter how powerful Ultron's logic is, it must operate under the underlying rule of "permissions".

The screen remained silent for a full half minute, seemingly trying to understand the "reject" instruction. Finally, it refreshed and displayed a new line of characters.

[Instruction received. Issue archived. Please issue new instruction.]

Lynn then continued typing on the keyboard.

[Evaluate the current state and potential value of coordinates [X-7385, Y-9214, Z-Gamma-001].]

This time, the silence on the screen lasted even longer. Massive Data Stream surged silently within the imprisoned processor, performing terrifying calculations.

After a long while, the characters finally started scrolling again.

[Current state: In stable decay. The actual structure of this coordinate has solidified, forming an independent, isolated Micro Spacetime Bubble.]

[Potential Value Assessment: Extremely High]

[Based on the reverse deduction of the Conservation of Energy model, the energy burst at this coordinate was not completely Oblivion. In its Core Zone, there is a high probability that an unknown, stable "Remnant" exists, transcending existing physical rules.]

Upon seeing this, Lynn's fingertips paused slightly.

The characters on the screen continued to refresh, as if they knew what he cared about most.

[Acquiring this "Remnant" has a 97.4% probability of allowing the construction of a weapon or tool capable of directly altering the "rules" at the conceptual level.]

[This potential value takes precedence over any of the Management Committee's existing strategic assets, including the Department of Technology's Chaos Matrix and the Stability Maintenance Office's Undead Legion.]

The last line of text lingered silently on the screen, like an invitation from the Abyss, full of endless allure.

Lynn stared at the words for a long time without making a move.

After a long while, he stood up, unplugged the data cable without saying a word, and put the old-fashioned typewriter back into the alloy case.

He didn't look at the server again, and turned to leave.

The heavy Lead-Mercury Alloy Door slowly closed behind him, locking that silent secret and alluring temptation—capable of overturning everything—back into Eternity darkness.