Gaithersburg, Maryland, United States.
The front of NIST headquarters was, quite literally, a scene of pandemonium. Seoha looked out the window and widened his eyes.
“Theo! Look over there. They even have armored vehicles standing by.”
It was his first time seeing armored vehicles deployed for actual operations from so close. Three military vehicles stood side by side in front of NIST headquarters’ main gate. The sight of fully armed soldiers surrounding the entrance to the building created a palpable tension.
“Those are NSA agents. Looks like the CIA is here too.”
Sujeong said, looking at the men in black suits.
Tadadadadada.
A helicopter circled overhead on patrol. Beyond the barricades, broadcasting vans and civilians were tangled together, forming a dense crowd. With the world economy grinding to a halt, the fervor of the press and the public had gone beyond desperation and was nearing madness.
“It’s only natural. Do you have any idea how much money is evaporating every day right now? And with even the Pentagon’s communications network under threat, it’s no surprise the military’s been deployed.”
Theo spoke calmly as he straightened his tie.
Under the escort of armed security guards, Team Apex and the researchers got out of their vehicles.
Click!
Click!
A blinding world of flashes poured down on them. Beyond the barricades, reporters shouted loudly at Seoha.
“Seoha! What do you think of the criticism that you are the source of the SS Algorithm?”
“Can Utopia really overcome the current situation? There are claims it has never undergone any real-world testing!”
At the reporters’ questions, Seoha’s body went rigid. Noticing this, Cecilia took his hand and gently led him forward.
“Ignore them. Right now, they only want someone to blame.”
Seoha lowered his head.
“Or rather, it means the situation is so frustrating that they need to blame someone, anyone.”
The microphones thrust toward him felt to Seoha like swords and spears pointed in his direction. A clamor mixed with anger, desperation, and a single thread of hope. Perhaps because the meaning of the SS Algorithm had become widely known, some citizens even hurled harsh abuse at Seoha.
“Step back! If you don’t want to get hurt, step back right now!”
Large armed agents roughly shoved the reporters aside and opened a path. Theo quickly stepped in front of Seoha, becoming a shield for him.
“Keep your head down and walk fast. You don’t need to answer!”
“Yes.”
Seoha felt miserable.
The more he did, the more rage surged within him toward the creator of the SS Algorithm. Whoever it was, they had reduced mathematics—something meant to make humanity more prosperous—into a tool of malice.
The Korean researchers, including Jihye and Hyeongju, walked almost at a run toward the security checkpoint, their faces pale.
“Now that we’re in America, I can see how serious the situation is.”
“You said it. This is practically a battlefield.”
Only after they entered the secure area and the thick control doors closed did the noise from outside subside. Jihye stroked her chest and let out a rough breath.
Seoha thought of the people outside who had been shouting at him. The fear and anger dwelling in their eyes. His clenched fists trembled. It was the first time he had ever felt such intense hatred toward a human being.
“Are you nervous?”
Sujeong looked at Seoha with worried eyes. He remained silent for a moment, then soon shook his head with a faint smile.
“No. I just want to finish this quickly.”
Straightening his clothes, he stepped toward the hall.
“So that starting tonight, people can sleep in peace.”
A firm expression and upright eyes.
Sujeong’s face turned wistful. They were the eyes of the Seoha she had seen when they were young.
‘You really haven’t changed at all, have you?’
People tended to see Seoha only as a kind but fragile genius. But Sujeong, who had watched him since childhood, knew better than anyone.
Seoha was a person with a strong heart.
He had never once run away from a problem he faced. Above all, Seoha was stubborn and extraordinarily persistent.
The words he had spoken not long ago lingered in Sujeong’s ears.
‘Let’s call it Utopia. Because it means mathematics can make everyone happy.’
Sujeong resolved that she would never forgive the terrorist who had made Seoha, who loved humanity more than anyone, wear such an expression.
“All right, let’s go in.”
Theo opened the door.
The air inside the hall was suffocating in an entirely different sense from outside. The audience seats, which on an ordinary day would have been filled with bespectacled scholars, were occupied today by an extremely heterogeneous group of people.
Generals with rows of medals hanging from their chests, a grim-faced White House National Security Advisor, and major Wall Street bank presidents staring wide-eyed on the brink of bankruptcy.
Desperation could be felt in all their eyes.
“It’s hard to breathe in here.”
Ben shook his head and sat down.
There were four ciphers undergoing standardization review today. CRYSTALS-Kyber, Falcon, SPHINCS+, and Team Apex’s cipher, Utopia.
Originally, the cryptographic standard review process was conducted behind closed doors. Naturally, lobbying and political logic would get involved. But the current situation did not allow NIST such leisure.
Herbert, the white-haired head of NIST, limped up onto the platform. Deep fatigue and grim resolve were etched across his face as he took the microphone.
Tap.
Tap.
When he lightly tapped the microphone, the noisy hall fell silent as if by magic.
“Ladies and gentlemen. Given the circumstances, I will skip the customary greetings. Even now, at this very moment, the crisis continues. No, rather, it is worsening.
Over the past three weeks, 1.2 trillion dollars in assets have evaporated from the global financial system. The networks of government agencies in fifteen countries have been infiltrated. And last night, there was an attempted attack on the European power grid control system. Fortunately, we stopped it this time, but…”
He paused for a moment.
“There is no guarantee we will be able to stop it next time. With just one insider, even physical keys could be rendered invalid.”
A heavy silence flowed through the hall.
He looked over the faces of the four teams of researchers sitting in the front row of the audience.
“I sincerely hope that you will become the final shield protecting humanity. With that, we will begin the review.”
The order of presentations had been set. The three existing candidates would be verified first, and Utopia, which had joined last, would go at the very end.
Damian was the first to step onto the platform.
He was not nervous. He had been running toward this moment for years. He had already envisioned how he should appear onstage and what he should say.
“CRYSTALS-Kyber is a lattice-based cryptosystem.”
His calm voice gave the audience a sense of trust.
“The SS Algorithm attacks integer factorization and discrete logarithm problems. Lattice problems do not fall under that category. It has been mathematically proven that the shortest vector problem cannot be solved efficiently with any existing computer or algorithm.”
He moved to the next slide.
“Kyber is currently the only cipher adopted as a NIST first-round standard. It also has real-world implementation cases. Google, Amazon, and parts of the U.S. Department of Defense’s communication networks are already running pilot programs.”
He spent a long time explaining Kyber’s principles and the verification process it had undergone thus far.
More than ten years of preparation, and dramatic improvements in stability and efficiency after Damian joined. In every respect, Kyber was a cipher that met the standards set by NIST.
With a confident expression, Damian put emphasis into his final remarks.
“Kyber’s greatest strength is that it can be designated as a Federal Information Processing Standard as early as tomorrow and immediately put to practical use. Its versatility across both software and hardware, and its overwhelming defensive power proven through millions of simulations over the past several years.”
He looked the officials straight in the eye.
“A robber is trying to break into our house. And what we need to stop him is a thick, sturdy steel door. Kyber is fully prepared.”
A small murmur rose from the audience. Relief began to spread across the faces of those who had wanted an immediate countermeasure. Here and there, people could be seen nodding.
There was no dissent among the academics either. Kyber was the strongest fortress humanity could currently rely on.
As Damian descended from the platform, he turned his head slightly.
It was his first time seeing Seoha in person. Seoha was looking at him with mysterious eyes. Damian felt an intense impulse. He wanted to run over to him right away and ask what he thought of the cipher he had made. But he could not do that.
“…”
The presentations for Falcon and SPHINCS+ followed.
Both ciphers had solid theoretical backgrounds, but the reaction on-site was lukewarm. In terms of real-world data, stability, and efficiency, neither had any aspect superior to Kyber.
And then, at last.
“Team Apex, Utopia.”
The moderator called the name of the final candidate.
* * *
Seoha sat in his chair, lost in thought.
Damian’s presentation had been extremely impressive. A design without unnecessary excess, stability reinforced two and three times over. It had not forgotten to pursue maximum efficiency within that structure either.
It was probably the finest PQC currently in existence. But the part that had truly impressed Seoha lay somewhere else entirely.
‘It’s like a very pretty concrete egg.’
Seoha felt as though he had glimpsed the inner world of a person named Damian within Kyber’s structure.
Was it the manifestation of a subconscious compulsion that it must never be broken? Layer upon layer of defense, safety margins designed to be thicker than necessary.
He could feel a severe desire for control that refused to allow even the smallest variable. At the same time, he saw a weak ego hardening its shell inside the egg, overly afraid of unknown attacks.
Seoha felt conflicted.
Kyber contained everything about Damian. Seoha did not want to destroy the world that he was trying so desperately to protect. But—
“Seoha.”
Sujeong, sitting beside him, quietly tugged at his sleeve.
“You have to go up.”
Seoha nodded and rose from his seat.
The gazes of the generals, bank presidents, and White House staff all poured toward him at once. Utopia was a candidate that had joined too late, and it had the fatal weakness of having no real-world data whatsoever. They looked at Seoha with faces full of doubt.
“Hmm.”
Murphy, the Director of the NSA, had received real-time reports from David on Utopia’s development status. David’s high praise had naturally raised his expectations. But his feelings were complicated.
‘He’s too outstanding. Who knows when he might provide villains with the seeds of another disaster…’
If possible, he wanted to keep him confined and make him conduct the research the nation needed.
Seoha picked up the microphone and slowly opened his mouth.
“I do not intend to explain here today how remarkable Utopia is.”
A space whose curvature changed ceaselessly according to the wave functions of prime numbers. In Utopia, the attacker and the user with the key essentially existed in different spaces.
A dimension that changed every time the attacker set foot in it. In that space, they would never be able to obtain what they wanted. But Seoha did not bother explaining that. It was all written in detail in the pamphlets that had been distributed.
“Then what are you going to talk about?”
A four-star general raised his hand and asked.
Countless thoughts whirled through Seoha’s mind. But there was only one conclusion. Seoha bit his lip hard, then spoke in a calm voice.
“…I can break Kyber.”
The air in the hall froze cold.
People stared blankly, unable to understand what they had just heard.