This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation
Lin Xian was bewildered. What exactly did “the brightest and most beautiful future” mean?
Up until now, Lin Xian had seen nine different world lines—nine possible futures for humanity—each one connected to the nine dreamscapes he had experienced. These futures ranged from a world of stagnant technology to bizarre, twisted societies to a painful rebirth of civilization after disaster.
Were these futures good or bad? Did they bring happiness to humanity? It all depended on perspective. But one thing remained the same in each one: on August 29th, 2624, at precisely 00:42, a blinding white light destroyed everything.
Every time the world line shifted, Einstein would say, “Humanity has no future.” Lin Xian had always thought Einstein was referring to the destructive white light—what else could it be?
Without that blinding light, none of the nine futures seemed completely hopeless. Human history had always been a story of destruction and renewal; as long as humanity had time, anything was possible. Even the most oppressive future—like the Eighth Dream, where mechanical androids ruled over humans—could change. Maybe not immediately, but perhaps in a thousand years, things could be different. Extremes often lead to reversals. The more something is suppressed, the stronger the eventual pushback. Sin City’s power was growing, and it was only a matter of time before humanity regained control.
Take the Fifth Dream—civilization had fallen to its lowest point, with only a few hundred thousand survivors struggling to survive, barely better off than people in the Stone Age. But what did that matter? Humanity had clawed its way up from primitive times before; this was just another beginning. Without the white light, given a thousand years, places like Big Cat’s Village, Rhine Village, and Queen Town might rise again, becoming the centers of a reborn world, much like Donghai once was.
This was what puzzled Lin Xian the most. Shouldn’t the real reason behind humanity’s lack of a future be that blinding white light?
Einstein had just said, “For decades, I’ve worried about humanity’s future. I’ve seen people destroy themselves in countless ways, and I’ve watched civilizations fall for all kinds of reasons.”
Self-destruction? So many reasons for extinction? None of this matched the futures Lin Xian had seen in his dreamscapes. In every future he’d witnessed—except the still-uncertain Ninth Dream—humanity hadn’t destroyed itself. No matter how dire things became, there were always survivors, people struggling and fighting to stay alive. And except for the Ninth Dream, there was only ever one reason for humanity’s destruction: the blinding white light.
Contradictions. There were contradictions everywhere.
Summarizing it all, the contradictions came down to three key questions:
If Einstein believed that a future where humanity destroys itself was not a good future, then why was he now calling the Ninth Dream—where all of humanity perished—the most beautiful future?
Was the future Einstein saw really the same as the one Lin Xian had seen? Could he truly see the white light at 00:42?
If Einstein couldn’t see the white light, then why dismiss the First and Seventh Dreamscapes, which seemed to be the brightest and best possible worlds?
All of these inconsistencies led Lin Xian to wonder if the future Einstein saw was different from what he himself saw. And if their visions were different, then one had to be real, while the other was fake.
Who had seen the real future?
Lin Xian remembered his discussion with the super AI, VV. VV had implied that Lin Xian’s visions of the future and his understanding of the rules of spacetime were flawed, suggesting that his dreamscapes were fake—like scenes from a movie set. This prompted Lin Xian to share his concerns about verifying the dreamscapes with Chu An Qing, who had touched a spacetime particle and left him a small note.
“You’ll understand once you’re there,” she had told him.
The note and the spacetime particle had been stored together in a spacetime particle capturer—an old rice cooker—and locked away in an aluminum alloy safe at the Time Bank. Lin Xian thought there was no longer a need to verify the reality of his dreamscapes. After all those shifting dreamscapes and the information he had used to take down Turing and Copernicus, wasn’t that enough proof that the dreamscapes were real?
But Einstein’s words brought back the question of whether the dreamscapes were real. Everything was muddled again. Lin Xian wanted to open that safe. He and CC needed to understand the truth behind what VV had said, and he wanted to decipher the clues Chu An Qing had left on that small note.
But there was a problem—he couldn’t find it.
The catastrophic event of 2400 had wiped out all of Donghai City. He and CC hadn’t seen the safe in ages. And now, the Ninth Dream had brought another calamity, pushing humanity even closer to extinction. The hope of finding that aluminum alloy safe seemed almost impossible.
Lin Xian was unable to confirm whose future was real—his or Einstein’s.
Logically, Einstein’s visions seemed more credible. He had faced years of questioning from the other geniuses and had never been wrong. He had predicted comets and even Lin Xian’s death date with precision. Unlike Lin Xian, who could only see up to August 28th, 2624, Einstein could see every minute and every second that lay ahead.
This made Lin Xian uneasy. Was it really the worst-case scenario?
Were his dreamscapes false?
He needed to find a way to verify this. He needed to understand what Einstein had seen in the future.
“Rhine, there’s no need to be so anxious,” said the elderly man wearing the Einstein mask. He sat calmly at the top of the platform, looking down at them.
“Even though this is our final gathering, each of you still has the chance to ask me a question, according to the rules. Please return to your seat and wait for the questioning segment to begin.”
Lin Xian let out a slow breath and returned to his seat. It was clear that Einstein had more to say.
Once Lin Xian was seated, Einstein looked around at the four members still present and continued, “What kind of future is the best future?”
He smiled faintly. “This is the final question you all must answer before joining the Genius Club. Whether you answered ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to the question ‘Does humanity have a future?’ you all needed to respond to this next one.
“Everyone’s answers were different, but all were valid. Despite your vastly different ideologies and methods, you all shared one unspoken agreement—that only a future where humanity exists is a true future.
“Thus, when trying to save the world and find a path to the future, the most fundamental thing we must ensure is humanity’s survival.
“But the future I saw couldn’t even meet that basic condition. In nearly all those futures, humanity was on the brink of extinction, caused by its own self-destruction.
“I’m different from the other geniuses,” Newton continued. “I know things they don’t, things only Copernicus and I had a chance to learn. Apart from Rhine, I can guess every other member’s plan.
“That’s the advantage of joining early—before so many questions became off-limits. Copernicus and I nearly asked everything we could. Now, with Copernicus gone, only I know the real truth. Only I know the secrets. Only I know what humanity truly faces.
“So, obviously, Einstein, I’m the only one who can save the world and protect humanity’s future.”
He let out a soft laugh and shook his head. “You know better than anyone that I’m not boasting. I’m not being arrogant. What you told Copernicus and me at the beginning is now beyond what anyone else can ask.
“That’s why the newer members—for all their brilliance—are fighting a losing battle. Without knowing the truth, they’ll never grasp the critical points. It’s tragic, really.
“So, Einstein, all I need now is one thing confirmed. My final question is this—Did humanity, in the end, go extinct?”
Einstein slowly raised his head, sitting upright. He shook his head softly.
“No,” he said.
Newton smiled in satisfaction. He stood up slowly, his voice barely above a whisper. “As one who sees the future, Einstein, you said this was our last meeting, so it must be our last. We will never meet again.
“These decades have been long, yet fleeting, and I must admit, I’m a bit sad to say goodbye. Still, all things must end, old friend. I wish you the best.”
Newton gave a gentleman’s bow to Einstein, and then, with a motion like removing a pair of VR goggles, his avatar turned transparent and slowly faded away.
The heavy red door to the private meeting room creaked open once more, and Einstein’s calm, authoritative voice echoed through the main hall.
“Gauss, your turn.”
Gauss, a small-framed man wearing his signature mask, slowly got up from his seat, trembling slightly. He looked over at Musk and Lin Xian, who were seated across from each other.
“This time... can you... not interrupt me?” he asked softly.
Lin Xian and Musk nodded. It was the final gathering, after all; they were willing to give him this courtesy. They both also wanted to hear what this mysterious man, who had been repeatedly denied a chance to ask his question, finally wanted to say.
“Equality,” Gauss began, his voice soft. “There is no absolute equality in this world, not even relative equality. But... everything has an original, primal equality.”
He nodded to Musk and Lin Xian in turn.
“Goodbye, Musk. Goodbye, Rhine.”
“Goodbye, Gauss,” Musk replied.
“Until we meet again,” Lin Xian said.
Gauss smiled faintly at Lin Xian’s words and shook his head. “I’m afraid we won’t meet again,” he said.
He turned away and walked slowly into the private meeting room, pulling the red door closed behind him.
Thud.
“Please, sit, Gauss,” Einstein gestured to the chair across from him.
Gauss slowly moved over and sat down. After a moment, he spoke, his words measured and deliberate.
“So... have I succeeded, Einstein?”
Einstein remained still. “Gauss, is that your question?”
“No, no,” Gauss said, shaking his head quickly. “I’m just... talking. Think of it as me talking to myself.”
He paused, then continued. “I know I’ve succeeded,” he said, his voice growing stronger.
“Because, just a few days ago, I finally made up my mind—I made a decision that can’t be undone, can’t be taken back, can’t be fixed, can’t be changed.
“I’ve fully understood now, Einstein.”
He looked up, his gaze meeting the sorrowful eyes of Einstein’s mask.
“True equality... is only found in equal death.”