Chapter 2922 The Language of Butterflies (12)
In the vast universe, even a star many times larger than the sun, its light will look like a small point after reaching a few light-years away.
Assume that the light source is a point that radiates light outwards. When the light of a candle passes through a convex lens, it is focused and becomes a point, and then radiates outwards with this point, forming the real "reality" of light .
The mirror is a plane reflection without focusing process. Although it looks the same size as the image outside the mirror, it can’t be enlarged and shrunk like the real one, but if the candle outside the mirror changes from a point to a surface, the virtual image in the mirror A candle is a point where the faces converge.
On the surface, it might seem easy to swap two points.
Pomona seemed to see Sirius Black, a man whose name was Darkness and who was named after the brightest star, who had once been so shining.
Pomona looked down at the Batman comic in his hand, which turned into Superman's Crisis in the Infinite Universe.
Bruno said that due to the lack of human perception, the perception of the boundary of the universe is opposite to the reality, the "world" is not equal to the "universe", and the "universe" is not equal to the "world".
Maybe the death of stars is not so common, but the destruction of planets is very common. Krypton is just one of them, and the earth is just one of them.
For the vast majority of people, they don't know that Krypton is destroyed, although they know that Superman exists.
Superman's strength comes from the gravity of Krypton several times that of the earth, just like humans can jump very high by simply jumping on the moon.
The mass of the earth is much greater than that of the moon, and the mass of Jupiter is also much greater than that of the earth, but its gravity is more than twice that of the earth.
Krypton, which is much larger than the earth, why are there humanoids with the same height as humans? Shouldn't living things evolve to adapt to the gravity there?
She heard a clatter of chains, not unusual to hear in a prison.
However, after careful identification, she found that this prison was not Azkaban.
"The universe is infinite," said a feeble voice, "not an expanding finite."
"Who are you?" Pomona asked.
"I'm not a fighter, I'm a philosopher."
"You can't change the world, and the millennium won't come the way you think it will." A man said. "This is your last chance."
The feeble voice let out a laugh.
"You and your superficial group will pay the price, you are like leeches, with one heart, one stomach, one esophagus and one mouth, having an innocuous feast."
Pomona found the topic so scary that she wanted to leave the place.
"He pleaded guilty," said a man in French, "but he also overturned all his testimony."
"They've been in court 17 times for seven years," said another man. "He probably wanted to live..."
"What are you talking about?" she asked.
The two stopped talking and bowed to her.
"Bruno's trial record," they said to her together. "It never occurred to us that this was the case."
She took over the manuscript translated by the two. In April 1599, Bruno almost admitted his guilt, but on the day of the trial on September 16, he was suddenly determined to defend his previous mistakes.
For people in the 20th century, the millennium was the year 2000, but before that, almost every century ended with a prophecy of the end of the world.
"Are all the originals here?" she asked.
"No, there's something else," one said. "There's more to the 17 court records than that."
"Bring them all," she said.
"What are you going to do with it?" asked another.
She didn't answer.
These materials need to be housed properly, especially in this day and age.
"We can't make it public."
She looked up and found a middle-aged man walking over.
"Why are you here?" She put down the manuscript.
"Come and see." The middle-aged man said with a smile, "You seem to be having a good time."
She found it very interesting, because she discovered a lot of things here that she didn't know at all before.
But she still felt a little sad.
"Are you homesick?" the middle-aged man asked.
She felt more distressed.
The scene in front of her flew away, and she returned to the house where she used to live in seclusion, but it was badly damaged, as if she had encountered some kind of attack.
She stroked her belly, which was flat but had nothing in it.
"I have no home," she whispered.
As soon as her words fell, laughter came from her ears, so far away that it seemed to be some kind of memory.
Nobody cares about stray cats in a box, no matter how miserable their meowing may be.
A person's voice is also small, not to mention the entire universe, it may not be heard two hundred meters away.
How could it be like a butterfly flapping its wings and creating a storm? Even if she is as diligent as a hummingbird.
"Then treat this as your own home, Georgiana." Denon, the curator of the Louvre, said with a smile, "We are your new family."
She looked in the mirror, and it was like a wall, blocking her way back, even if it was only leading to a dilapidated house.
"Come with me," Denon said, taking her hand away from the mirror and into the magnificent palace.
There was thunderous applause around her, and she became the focus of everyone's attention.
At this time, a man in a red coat came towards her. He was not tall, with a gorgeous saber inlaid with a regent diamond on his waist.
"Welcome home." He said with a smile, holding her hand and facing everyone.
Oh Rose, you are sick.
That invisible worm,
fly in the night,
In the howling storm.
found your bed,
Drenched in scarlet joy,
His black secret love,
but ruined your life.
That seemingly insignificant point may contain a galaxy or a world, and it is not so easy to move.
It's like the world under a microscope.
She smiled cooperatively, though she felt the rose's thorns almost pierce her heart.
But so what? Butterflies are dead in the fall, and they've spent their lives flapping their wings without blowing the breeze.
"If I can't influence the gods in the sky, I will stir up the river of hell." The person beside her said, "When the line of sight is blocked by a high wall or a mountain, use fantasy to break through this prison, and you can go where you want freely anywhere."
She really wanted to laugh at him like she did when she met Thales' maid.
"Yes, the First Consul." She smiled and said, "You are right."
The Italian bastard smiled indifferently, and looked at the crowd talking again, as if all this was true.
