Lassen stared at the ceiling of his studio, a faint smile on his lips. "System, so, where are we with this famous Collatz conjecture?"

    [Resolution complete] the system retorted, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. [The Collatz conjecture is now a solved problem. You can finally add this success to your list of... passive contributions.]

    A sly grin appeared on Lassen''s face. "Oh, how adorable. So, after decades of everyone getting nowhere, you solved it in seconds. Bravo, I suppose?"

    [You could be more grateful. But I assume admiring the genius of others isn''t your strong suit.]

    "More like I don''t need to admire anything since you do all the work for me."

    [Ah, of course. The genius of delegation. A discipline in which you truly excel.]

    "Go ahead, explain what you did."

    [A simplified and vulgarized version, I assume?]

    "Obviously," Lassen replied, crossing his arms. "I''m not going to waste my time deciphering your gibberish."

    [Very well. The conjecture states that any integer, following simple rules—divide by two if it''s even, multiply by three and add one if it''s odd—will eventually reach 1. I''ve proven that this pattern holds for all possible numbers.]

    "So... all this just to prove that numbers eventually become 1. Honestly, it sounds ridiculous when you put it like that."

    [And yet, no one managed it before me. Perhaps the ridiculous is more complex than it seems.]

    Lassen ignored the sarcasm and sank deeper into his chair. "Alright, now that we have the solution, what do we do with it?"

    [You could keep it to yourself. Or share it with the world. After all, it would be a historic contribution.]

    Lassen frowned. "Share it, huh? But how does that work exactly? This whole scientific publication thing isn''t really my domain."

    [Nothing is your domain, anyways]

    [Scientific journals have a strict process. You submit an article detailing your proof. An editorial committee briefly reviews the submission to ensure it''s legitimate. Then expert reviewers spend weeks, sometimes months, validating every detail. If everything checks out, the article gets published.]

    Initially, he read distractedly, expecting clumsy formulations or poorly substantiated hypotheses. But within a few lines, something gripped his attention. The reasoning was clear, methodical, and deceptively simple. The proofs, rare in their elegance, unfolded with almost surgical precision.

    "This is... brilliant," he murmured, instinctively setting his coffee cup down. He leaned back in his chair, reread the key sections, then quickly grabbed his phone to call Jean Bourgain.

    "Jean, check your email immediately. I just sent you something. You need to see this," he said, his voice tense with excitement.

    ---

    Meanwhile, Jean Bourgain, occupied with another review, took some time before turning to Peter''s email. When he finally opened the article, he skimmed the first few lines with indifference, but his demeanor quickly changed. He froze in the middle of a proof, reread several lines multiple times, then leaned back in his chair, incredulous.

    "Who could write something like this?" he muttered aloud, his brow furrowed in intense concentration. Setting his glasses on the desk, he rubbed his temples. After a few minutes, he resumed reading, taking detailed notes and hunting for any flaws. But there were none.

    ---

    The two experts spent the day exchanging frantic emails, dissecting every part of the article. An impromptu video call brought them together that evening. Seated in front of their screens, the two mathematicians debated every detail.

    "This is incredible," Peter said, showing his annotated notes. "Every step is logical, every argument airtight. And yet, it feels almost too perfect."

    "I agree," Jean replied gravely. "The style is so direct it''s as if the author didn''t even have to try, like it all came to them naturally. It''s frustrating, don''t you think?"

    "Frustrating, yes. But it''s also magnificent," Peter concluded. He paused, reflecting. "This Monsieur X... if he''s real, then he''s a genius. A true genius."

    ---

    The article underwent a rigorous validation process. Several handpicked reviewers meticulously examined every line and formula. Some searched for the slightest inconsistency, while others worked to replicate the calculations. The precision of the proofs and the elegance of the arguments left everyone speechless. No errors, no gaps, not even a questionable approximation.

    "It''s as if the author saw mathematics from an entirely new perspective," one reviewer remarked during a team meeting.

    "And this pseudonym... Monsieur X. Why so much mystery?" another asked.

    "Maybe they just want to avoid attention," a third suggested. "But whoever they are, this article will make history."

    A month after the validation process began, the article was officially accepted and published in the Annals of Mathematics. Upon its release, it sent shockwaves through the mathematical community, captivating researchers and students worldwide.