The Text Canopy's Warning

"You too... what?"

Mo Ling could no longer make out the words that followed.

He could only keep falling, returning to Martin's side.

This time, he finally heard it clearly...

What Martin had been shouting was—"So you're text too."

"I'm text too?" Just as Mo Ling was about to ask, Martin began waving his arms and dancing around him.

"You're a period! When a round period is enlarged enough, it becomes a cube. Continuously divided arcs become straight lines, and intersecting straight lines must have corners. It's like calculus—using stacked rectangles to represent constantly changing curves. You're the smallest unit; you were simplified into this form for ease of calculation!"

Martin pointed at Mo Ling, spouting a string of things he could not understand.

Mo Ling had initially thought Martin had discovered some truth and listened intently, but the more he listened, the dizzier he became.

Martin went from "period" to "calculus," then from "calculus" to "elementary particles." It was getting increasingly absurd.

Mo Ling could only send out the electronic screen again and ask, "Did you really see it?"

"I saw it!" Martin answered with certainty.

But when Mo Ling once more extended his vision into the sky, there was still nothing there—only the roiling, chaotic colors.

Martin noticed it too. It seemed he was the only one who could see the writing in the sky.

He slowly calmed down. No longer flailing about, he looked seriously toward the sky, then suddenly froze.

"I can't see it either anymore..." he muttered.

"What's going on? Was that just an illusion?"

Just as he was lost in confusion, a sharp crack suddenly rang out.

His Glass Jar had shattered again... Cracks spread all the way up the jar's body to its top, even worse than when he had been attacked by