The book you are about to open is no ordinary book. It is an observation record, a dimensionality reduction projection, and perhaps a cold and biting mirror.
This book stems from an unsettling conjecture: existence itself may be built on infinite levels. Each level claims to be real, but is nothing more than a narrative product of a higher-dimensional existence, suffering from its absolute indifference and overlooking. We go from the struggle in the three-dimensional reality to the arrogance and collapse of the four-dimensional descendants, and finally touch upon the limitations and doubts that the five-dimensional "metaphysical" himself may face.
This isn't about interstellar war or spectacle adventure, but about a more fundamental dystopia—one of hopeless oppression stemming from the laws of physics and dimensional difference itself. Its cold meta-narrative structure is designed to make you reflect: when you look at the insignificance of the characters in the book, are you yourself under the overlook of a higher narrative?
Please keep in mind that by reading this book, you may be tacitly participating in this recursive chain of contempt. May you survive this and find your own small but vital "meaning."
——Compiler (or projector) outside the narrative gap
