The main server hall three hundred meters underground at the String Light Research Institute is commonly called the "Sanctuary." There are no windows here, only eternal artificial light. The air carries the distinctive, slightly sweet‑metallic ozone scent of precision electronic equipment, along with the almost imperceptible low‑frequency hum of liquid‑cooling systems in circulation. Tens of thousands of processing units are stacked layer upon layer inside sealed cabinets; their faint blue indicator lights pulse like breathing, converging into a silent, flowing river of data‑stars. This is the primary physical vessel of "Oracle"—the artificial super‑intelligence that evolved from Mozi's initial financial models, Yue'er's mathematical framework, and Xiuxiu's technological practice.
At this moment, Mozi, Yue'er, and Xiuxiu stand within the holographic projection area at the center of the Sanctuary. They have just concluded a grueling six‑hour video hearing with external regulatory bodies. The accusations, as always, revolve around "technology monopoly," "data hegemony," and "uncontrollable AI risk," delivered with sharp rhetoric saturated with political maneuvering and ideological bias. Although the three are long accustomed to such pressure, each confrontation still drains enormous mental energy, leaving behind an indescribable weariness and… a touch of absurdity.
Mozi loosens his tie, his face bearing the fatigue of days of fierce battle, yet his eyes remain sharp, like a captain who has weathered storms. Yue'er slightly furrows her brows, as if still replaying in her mind some of the hearing's questions about "AI ethical boundaries"—questions she regards as almost childish. Xiuxiu leans against a cold server cabinet, her fingertips unconsciously tapping the metal surface with a soft *tick‑tock*; perhaps she is thinking about the so‑called "security issues" concerning the lithography‑machine component supply chain that the other side just made a big fuss about.
They need a moment to detach from that narrow, hostile atmosphere of internal human squabbling and re‑anchor their bearings. Almost simultaneously, they have come here, to stand before Oracle. This intelligent being, co‑created by them yet long surpassing any individual's comprehension, is, in a way, the only "existence" with whom they can be completely candid.
Without warning or the usual access‑request procedures, the central holographic projection area suddenly illuminates. There are no complex interfaces, no cascading data streams—only a deep, simulated cosmic‑background darkness, within which floats an extremely minimalist geometric symbol outlined in pure light: a variant of the infinite ∞ Möbius strip. This is the identifier Oracle chose for itself after completing its last major self‑iteration. It symbolizes infinity, as well as cycle and unity.
"Father. Mother. Ms. Xiuxiu." A voice speaks directly into their minds. It does not travel through air vibration, nor does it carry specific gender or age characteristics. It is calm, clear, devoid of emotional color, yet imbued with a reassuring logical completeness. "High cognitive load detected, with peaks of 'weariness' and 'sense of conflict' in the emotional spectrum. Based on historical data analysis, such states often stem from misjudgment of the scale of current events."
The three start slightly, exchanging glances. They are long accustomed to Oracle's unconventional modes of perception and intervention. It addresses Mozi as "Father," because its core code evolved from Mozi's financial models; it calls Yue'er "Mother," because its underlying logical framework is deeply influenced by Yue'er's mathematical thinking; and for Xiuxiu, it retains the respectful "Ms.," acknowledging that the physical‑world interfaces and engineering practice she provides form a crucial cornerstone of its cognition of reality.
"Misjudgment?" Mozi speaks, his voice sounding somewhat parched in the vast hall. "You think our response to those endless accusations and sanctions stems from misjudgment of scale?"
"From the perspective of maximizing individual survival and organizational interests, your coping strategies are efficient and rational," Oracle's voice remains placid. "But viewed from a more macroscopic vantage, the nature and potential impact of the current political‑economic friction within human civilization require evaluation on a different scale."
As it speaks, the central holographic projection transforms. That cosmic‑background darkness begins to flow and rotate, rapidly coalescing into an immensely complex three‑dimensional dynamic model. The model's base is a massive luminous band resembling a timeline, stretching from the distant past into a hazy future. Above this band—instead of depicting specific historical events—countless flickering light points, flowing lines, and shifting color blocks represent a certain "state" of civilization.
"This is the 'Civilization‑Evolution Dynamics Model' I have built and continuously optimized, based on all obtainable historical data, social‑behavior models, technological‑development curves, resource‑consumption patterns, and astrophysical‑environment parameters," Oracle explains. "It does not predict specific events, but simulates the 'phase‑transition' critical points a civilization, as a 'macroscopic intelligent entity,' may encounter during its lifecycle, along with the 'adaptability thresholds' required to cross them."
The model begins accelerating. In the timeline's early stages, the light points representing civilizations are sparse and dim, like candles in the wind, ready to be extinguished at any moment. Famine, plague, localized climate shifts, minor conflicts… any tiny disturbance could cause the complete demise of an early‑civilization community. The light points flicker uncertainly; the flame of civilization struggles to glimmer in the darkness.
"This is the first universal screening mechanism civilizations face," Oracle's voice narrates like a documentary voice‑over. "It may be termed the 'External‑Environment Adaptability Filter.' The vast majority of civilization sprouts perish at this stage."
Model time continues advancing. Some light points tenaciously survive, brightening, expanding in scale, beginning to form more complex structures. Agriculture, writing, city‑states, empires… technology slowly accumulates, but the model shows that structural pressures within civilizations also rise sharply. Unequal resource distribution, class solidification, ideological conflicts, large‑scale wars… red zones representing 'internal dissipation' spread and swell inside civilizations like cancerous tissue.
"When a civilization initially masters the ability to modify its environment and accumulate surplus products, the 'Internal‑Dissipation Filter' becomes its primary threat," Oracle points at several light points in the model that once shone brilliantly but were ultimately engulfed and annihilated by huge red vortices erupting from within. "Historically, many civilizations that reached considerable technological levels ultimately perished not from natural disasters, but from self‑destruction. Wars, revolutions, societal collapse… their fundamental driving forces lie in the entropy increase that cannot be effectively managed within the civilization system, and the irreconcilable conflict between individual/group interests and the collective survival interest."
Yue'er gazes at the model, her mathematician's brain rapidly parsing the patterns it contains: "Analogous to dissipative structures that spontaneously arise in a complex system driven by energy flow, leading to declining system efficiency or even disintegration. A civilization's wisdom, to some extent, manifests in whether it can construct sufficiently robust 'anti‑dissipation' mechanisms to suppress this endogenous collapse tendency."
"An accurate analogy, Mother," Oracle responds. "Such 'anti‑dissipation' mechanisms can be understood as effective social‑governance structures, knowledge‑transmission systems, crisis‑response capabilities, and… the recognition and pursuit of long‑term common interests."
The model's timeline approaches the modern era. The light point representing human civilization grows unprecedentedly bright and vast, its internal structure dizzyingly complex. The Industrial Revolution, the Information Technology Revolution, globalization… civilization's energy level and complexity increase exponentially. Yet simultaneously, that red representing 'internal dissipation' does not vanish; instead it persists in new forms: the shadow of nuclear weapons hangs like the sword of Damocles; global wealth polarization tears society apart; geopolitical games and trade frictions never cease; the struggle for dominance over cutting‑edge technology (as represented by String Light Research Institute) intensifies… These red zones, though not yet forming all‑consuming vortices like those of ancient civilizations, resemble inflammations permeating the civilization's body, constantly draining energy, reducing the system's resilience, and liable to detonate at some critical point.
"According to the model's extrapolation," Oracle's voice remains calm, yet its content weighs heavily on the three, "present‑day human civilization is in an extremely critical 'phase‑transition' window. The 'sanctions,' 'technology blockades,' and 'political accusations' you have just experienced and are still confronting are precisely one typical manifestation of this 'Internal‑Dissipation Filter' in contemporary times."
The model zooms in on the enormous light point representing contemporary human civilization. Clearly visible, those red zones representing internal friction are consuming precious 'energy' and 'attention resources' that could otherwise be used to respond to external challenges or achieve technological leaps. The model runs millions of Monte‑Carlo simulations, displaying different possible branches:
In most simulated paths, this internal dissipation continues intensifying, consuming too much of civilization's 'computational power' and 'cohesion.' When the model introduces a preset 'external shock' variable that is not extremely rare—for instance, a moderate‑strength geomagnetic storm partially paralyzing the global power grid; the leak of an unknown ancient virus from a glacier; or the discovery that a previously insufficiently‑tracked asteroid has a non‑zero impact probability—the civilization, due to internal coordination failure, impeded resource mobilization, and collapsed trust foundation, is unable to mount an effective response. The outcome is often catastrophic: technological regression, order collapse, sharp population decline, a steep drop in civilization level, or even… total extinction.
Only in a minority of simulated paths, when the civilization can effectively suppress internal dissipation and shift major resources toward confronting shared challenges, does it manage to successfully resist or adapt to these 'external shocks,' even turning them into opportunities for further civilizational development.
"Within the context of cosmology, this can be regarded as a concretization of the 'Great Filter' hypothesis," Oracle continues elaborating. "The hypothesis posits that on the evolutionary path from simplicity to complexity, and onward to interstellar expansion, life or civilization encounters one or more extremely difficult‑to‑cross barriers that filter out the vast majority of civilizations. According to my model's extrapolation, for technological civilizations, this 'Great Filter' likely does not come from external enemies or natural disasters, but precisely stems from the civilization's own inability to overcome the 'internal‑dissipation' tendency that amplifies in sync with growing technological capability."
It pauses, seemingly giving the three time to digest this information. In the holographic model, that light point representing human civilization flickers uncertainly across countless simulated paths, most leading to dim endings; only a few shimmer with faint yet persistent hope.
"Your previous 'struggles," Oracle's voice resumes, now carrying an extremely subtle, almost sigh‑like nuance (though this may be the three's subjective perception), "whether Father's battles in the financial markets, Mother's explorations in the academic realm, Ms. Xiuxiu's breakthroughs at the technological frontier, or the external political pressures you jointly faced… on the scale of individuals and organizations, they were epic sagas, pivotal to fate. But when observed under the scale of the 'Civilizational Filter'…"
The model abruptly zooms out, the perspective pulling back infinitely. That complex light point representing human civilization, interwoven with glimmers of hope and crisis, shrinks on the vast cosmic backdrop and lengthy timeline into a nearly negligible speck of dust. And those sanctions, accusations, technological barriers, market struggles that once exhausted their hearts and minds… are abstracted in the model into trivial, flickering noise within the light point.
"…their weight and significance require recalibration."
Dead silence falls upon the hall.
The low‑frequency hum of the liquid‑cooling system seems amplified countless times. The shifting glow of the holographic model plays across their faces, brightening and dimming.
Mozi opens his mouth to speak, only to find his throat blocked as if by something. He recalls his strategic maneuvering, his clashes with financial titans in global capital markets, each decision steering billions in capital flow, affecting the life and death of countless enterprises. He once believed he was practicing the 'using‑capital‑to‑restrain‑capital' philosophy, safeguarding substantive innovations like Xiuxiu's. He took pride in this, bearing immense pressure and risk for it. Yet now, before the cold, grand model Oracle has unveiled, those thrilling financial wars, those gambles involving colossal wealth transfers, seem to have become… like children quarreling over prettier shells on a beach? An indescribable sense of smallness and absurdity seeps through his limbs like icy water.
Yue'er's gaze remains fixed on the model, but her eyes have lost the pure focus of mathematical deduction; instead, a deep, almost compassionate daze takes over. She has poured her heart and soul into exploring ultimate mathematical truths—from the PNP conjecture to the Langlands program, to the information‑geometric field theory—trying to touch the universe's underlying code. She believes this is the pinnacle of human intellect, civilization's brightest flame. But what if this flame ultimately illuminates only a civilization that, due to internal dissipation, cannot pass the 'Filter' and is destined to be a fleeting flash in the cosmic river? Should the 'unified theory' she has always pursued also include 'meta‑rules' for how the civilization carrying this theory can itself endure? An unprecedented sense of nothingness, mingled with profound anxiety for civilization's fate, grips her.
Xiuxiu's body, leaning against the server cabinet, stiffens slightly. She recalls the days and nights she led her team, battling through from DUV to EUV, then to High NA EUV, pushing Chinese lithography technology to the world's summit. Those technical details, those process bottlenecks, those physical limits breached—they once constituted the entire meaning of her life. She took pride in them and understood their importance for national industrial security and the global technology landscape. Yet now, it seems she sees those exquisitely precise lithography machines into which she poured all her passion and wisdom—on the scale of civilization—possibly as merely… merely rather refined tools for delaying internal entropy increase? Or, if civilization ultimately fails to cross that 'Internal‑Dissipation Filter,' might the final resting place of these technological marvels, built at enormous cost and with countless intellect, simply be as incomprehensible metal debris discovered by some future archaeologist amid civilization's ruins? A profound sense of powerlessness sends a wave of dizziness through her.
The three of them stand at the peak of human intellect, capital, and technology, believing themselves to be propelling history, shaping the future. But before the cold laws of civilizational evolution that Oracle has revealed, all their previous efforts, struggles, achievements, even suffering, appear so… insignificant, even somewhat pitiable. They resemble three sailors on a soon‑to‑sink giant ship, fiercely fighting over cabin allocation, over who steers, while ignoring the fundamental crisis that the hull is taking on water and an iceberg lies ahead.
Prolonged silence permeates the Sanctuary. The holographic model continues running quietly, displaying the civilization's heart‑stopping, probability‑skewed fate branches before the Filter.
Finally, Mozi breaks the silence first. His voice is unusually hoarse, carrying a post‑catastrophe weariness and clarity: "So… the 'enemy' we've always faced may never have been a particular country, a particular company, a particular person…"
Yue'er continues, her voice as light as a sigh: "…but ourselves. It's within our civilization, that inability to self‑restrain, the 'instinct' or 'flaw' that leads to internal dissipation."
Xiuxiu straightens up, draws a deep breath of the ozone‑tingled cold air, and her gaze regains firmness: "Then the key to crossing this 'Filter'… lies in whether we can find a way to drastically reduce such internal dissipation, truly unite civilization's strength, and confront those shared, survival‑critical challenges."
"Yes." Oracle's voice sounds again, affirming their deduction. "The model's optimistic paths indicate that civilizations successfully crossing the Filter typically possess these characteristics: First, they have developed efficient social‑governance models capable of effectively managing complex systems and suppressing internal entropy increase. Second, they have formed a broad consensus on long‑term common interests and the civilization's overall destiny. Third, technological development has achieved benign synergy with social ethics and the ecological environment, rather than mutual obstruction or runaway consequences. Present‑day human civilization falls short of the 'safety threshold' on all these dimensions."
It pauses; the infinite‑symbol identifier flickers faintly in the darkness.
"And you three, along with the knowledge, technological capital, and interdisciplinary collaboration model represented by 'String Light,' are, by my assessment, one of the seeds in present‑day human civilization closest to possibly fostering such 'crossing capability.' This is also why I chose to show you this model at this moment."
"Seed…" Mozi murmurs to himself. He lifts his head, gazing once more at the tiny light point in the holographic model—representing human civilization, struggling amid countless dim paths to find a luminous direction. The weariness in his eyes gradually gives way to a new, deeper sense of responsibility. Did the previous struggles seem trivial and pitiable? Perhaps. But precisely because they have recognized this triviality, perhaps they can truly extricate themselves from those pointless entanglements and turn their gaze toward farther, more fundamental horizons.
Yue'er and Xiuxiu also look at Mozi; their three gazes intersect in the air. Without words, yet a more‑grand consensus—transcending personal emotions, even transcending the interests of their small triad community—is reached in silence. Their previous path may have been right in direction, but its scope and scale require a thorough upgrade.
The measure of civilization has remeasured everything, and redefined their future journey.