A processor that performs physical work must fade heat.
Lin Tao stood up from the southwestern floor seam, his boots squeaking faintly against the zero-drag surface. The air inside the white cube remained a flat, artificial twenty-one degrees. But Lin Tao knew that every calculating system operated under strict heat-powered constraints. Energy could neither be created nor destroyed, even inside a virtualized sky container.
To map the resource limits of this quarantine thread, Lin Tao analyzed, I must force the overseer-core to allocate compute cycles to my container until it reaches its office execution ceiling. I need to observe how the host responds to a sudden surge in breakdown.
He removed his heavy linen coat. He folded it with neat, practiced motions and laid it against the center of the floor.
Dressed only in his dark work trousers and charcoal cotton tunic, Lin Tao began to move. He sprinted from the center toward the eastern wall. He drove his iron-shod boots into the floor with maximum striking force. Five paces before the boundary, he dropped into a hard slide. His boots dragged across the floor to generate maximum friction, then rebounded off the crash boundary and sprinted toward the west.
