Recursive Souls in the Prism

1. The Expelled Genius and His "Non-Euclidean Pocket Watch"

Charles Reinhardt stood before the crematorium of Cambridge University, watching his manuscript Geometric Spirituality in Multidimensional Topology spiral into ash. As the flames warped reality, his pupils reflected a sequence of equations etched into the spire of Trinity College three years prior—a forbidden proof demonstrating that souls could be folded into a Klein bottle structure.

"Mr. Reinhardt," the dean's voice crackled with frost, "your paper claims 'Hell is a four-dimensional negative curvature trap...' Victorian Britain has no use for mathematicians dabbling in damnation." He sneered, pulling a bronze pocket watch from his waistcoat. Its face bore no numbers, only ever-shifting Riemannian manifolds; the second hand was a DNA helix spiraling upward, ticking backward like a supernova's collapse.

"Wrong," he snapped the crown shut, "It's mathematics that refuses to be domesticated by the Victorian era."

2. The Underground Lab and the "Illegal Function"

Beneath the fetid streets of Whitechapel, Charles's lab pulsed like a cancerous metallic heart. Walls were plastered with frantic theorems:

_- Feasibility Study on Summoning Angels via Electromagnetic Resonance

_- Translating Cthulhu Mythos into Differential Equations

_- How Alchemists Achieve Quantum Entanglement Through Mercury Poisoning

At the center, a steam-powered Dimensional Interferometer screamed. He inserted his pocket watch into its cradle, and the surface instantly bloomed with fluorescent fractals—London's Underground map warped into a non-Euclidean lattice.

"Activate recursive function, rotate coordinate axes 37.5 degrees..." he pulled a brass valve, sending the boiler's pressure gauge into a homicidal dance. Rats in the sewer stood erect,screaming The Passion According to Matthew in perfect pitch.

3. The First Fracture and the Entropy Hounds

When the mirror of the interferometer shattered, Charles saw the threshold—not a thing, but a self-replicating topological anomaly: the Thames became a Möbius strip, Parliament's spires spiraled into Cauchy sequences, and his watch began oozing bronze blood.

"Reinhardt of House Reinhardt, the 13th Observer," buzzed a swarm from the rift, "You've finally compiled your ancestral paradox code..."

Before the voice finished, the lab's iron door exploded. Twelve members of the Entropy Spirit Society strode in, their robes extending mechanical tendrils tipped with human eyeballs modified for Planck-scale scanning.

"Purge the contaminant." The leader brandished a skull-gear contraption, its hymnal chant humming Laplace's demon's kill algorithm.

Charles ripped open his shirt, revealing a pocket watch core fused with his grandfather's cremated remains—a recursive perpetual motion machine.

"Want truth?" He laughed, tearing a page of equations into the boiler, "Learn to resonate with infinite recursion's nightmare!"

As steam and phosphorus erupted, the lab collapsed into a four-dimensional fractal labyrinth.