The Quantum Embroiderer

Chapter 1: The Lost Viking Rune ‌

The aurora in Stockholm lights up the quantum computing unit at Studio Ingrid, and a weaving machine-like hum comes from the cabinet. The Nobel laureate in physics was using photon entanglement to restore a 9th-century woolen blanket - until she spotted an unusually pulsating set of carbon atoms in the infrared spectrum.

"It's not a dye molecule." When she zoomed in on the hologram, the supposedly random carbon-60 structures were arranged in Rune letters: "ᛞᚢᛒᛚᛟᚱ", Old Norse for "mirror world".

At three o 'clock in the morning, the sound of an alarm pierced the silence of the laboratory. When Ingrid rushed into the thermostatic chamber, the woolen blanket on the restoration table was disintegrating itself in a way that defied the laws of thermodynamics. Each fiber seems to be pulled by invisible knitting needles, rearranged in a completely new pattern: on the base of the Statue of Liberty in New York, the dragon head of a Viking longship is embroidered.

‌ Chapter 2: Silicon Valley's Lace firewall ‌

Three floors below Cloudflare headquarters in the San Francisco Bay Area. Chen Qiming, a Chinese engineer, stared at the sudden appearance of a wooden server - a 1943 IBM punch card machine, to be exact, carved out of birch bark and bronze nails.

"This is the seventh station." He touched the newly appeared fishbone lines on the fuselage, "Every time an antique computer appears out of thin air, a data center around the world is under zero-day attack."

His AR glasses suddenly picked up an unusual data stream: the attack code had been transformed into a lily pattern common in medieval tapestries. When Qiming tried to do the reverse trace, all the office printers simultaneously spit out tar-scented parchment with rust-colored liquid writing on it:

"ᛖᚲ ᚠᛁᚾᚾ ᛖᛁᚷᛁ"

Icelandic: I found the eye.

‌ Chapter 3: Lace and Code duet ‌

What Ingrid discovered in the quantum computer was an even more terrifying fact: the Rune script formed by the carbon atoms matched the parchment that Chen Qiming had received. As she tried to separate the abnormal atoms with a laser, the studio's nano-3D printer suddenly kicked in, weaving a lace covering an entire wall with carbon fiber.

"It's not decoration." In the video call, Qiming projected the AR screen onto the lace structure, "Each hollow point corresponds to a breached IP address, and these LACES are engraved in the Internet map!"

Both men also realized the horror: the attackers had invented some sort of topological weapon using medieval textile techniques. When Ingrid tore a piece of carbon fiber, a bitcoin mine in Mongolia suddenly lost power; Qiming cut the rose pattern on the edge of the lace, and Seattle air traffic control immediately returned to normal.

‌ Chapter 4: Ragnarok at the Loom ‌

The trace leads to an abandoned textile mill in northern Norway. When the two men broke through the frozen door, they saw a scene that reminded Ingrid of the description in "IDA in Verse" : twelve wooden looms connected to fiber-optic cables were spinning on their own, wrapped not with cotton thread but with superconducting material wrapped in insulating skin.

"These looms are reorganizing the topology of the Internet." Qiming detects a familiar quantum signal, "entangled with your quantum computer!"

Ingrid suddenly fell to her knees on the dusty workbench, which was carved with Rune writing identical to the woolen blanket in her lab. When her palm pressed down on the last letter, all the looms spit out bloodstained linen, piecing together the terrible truth:

Her great-grandmother cracked the Enigma code here for the Nazis in 1943; Today, the same textile algorithms are turning global data streams into marionettes through quantum entanglement.

‌ Chapter 5: The Course of fate ‌

"The antidote lies in the textile pattern itself." Ingrid put the woolen blanket fragments into a quantum computer, and Qiming simultaneously uploaded a topological model of the lace structure. When the two are superimposed in virtual space, Stockholm and San Francisco simultaneously erupt with auroras.

The three Fates of the Middle Ages appear on the holographic screen: Gould's textile lifeline, Verdanti weaves program code with lace, and Scotty's scissors become antivirus software ICONS. Twelve wooden looms turned to flying ash in the bright light.