Time: C.E. 56, Autumn
Six-year-old Nangong Wentian lay on the wooden plank bed, his eyes open as he stared at the ceiling.
It was late at night, and the orphanage dormitory was filled with the even breathing of sleeping children. Xiao Guang in the next bed was already asleep, occasionally letting out soft snores. Further away, Sayuri turned over in her sleep, mumbling indistinct words from her dreams.
But he couldn't sleep.
Not because he was hungry—though dinner had indeed been only a bowl of thin porridge and half a sweet potato. Not because he was cold—though the autumn night wind did seep through the cracks in the window, making him pull his thin blanket tighter.
It was because his mind was too full.
He closed his eyes, letting his consciousness sink into that vast "space." There was no shape, no boundaries, only endless streams of information—Minovsky Physics from the UC Era, GN Particle Theory from the 00 Era, MS design blueprints, material formulas, energy system principles...
Too much.
For over three years now, he had been consciously organizing this knowledge, categorizing it, archiving it, building indexes. But as he grew older, as his understanding of the SEED world deepened, and as experimental verification progressed, the information that needed processing kept increasing.
"If only I had an external brain."
The moment this thought arose, he froze.
External brain?
He abruptly opened his eyes, staring at the crack in the ceiling caused by years of disrepair.
The Veda Quantum Processing System from the 00 world.
That super AI created by Aeolia Schenberg, capable of processing massive amounts of information, simulating the future, and connecting all members of Celestial Being. In the 00 world, Veda was the "brain" of the Innovators, the cornerstone of all operations.
Could he build one too?
No, it wasn't a question of "could he"—he had to build one.
The technical data in his mind was too vast and complex. Generating Minovsky Particles required precise energy calculations, controlling antimatter in GN Drives required real-time monitoring of tens of thousands of parameters, brainwave matching for Psycho-Frames required analysis of complex neural signals... Relying solely on the human brain, even with memories from two lifetimes, it was impossible to process so much information simultaneously.
He needed an assistant.
An assistant that wouldn't tire, wouldn't forget, wouldn't betray.
"Star Core."
He silently repeated the name in his heart.
Not Veda, but "Star Core"—his own quantum processing system, belonging to this world.
Early the next morning, Nangong Wentian woke up earlier than usual. Before dawn had fully broken, he quietly got up, put on his faded old coat, and slipped out of the dormitory.
The kitchen was still closed. He walked around the large cooking pot to the corner where their "experimental equipment" was hidden in a broken wooden crate. Lifting the lid, he pulled out a stack of paper from the very bottom—scrap paper he had saved over time, the backs still usable for writing.
He fished out a stub of a pencil from the hidden compartment of the wooden crate—it was something he had picked up at the garbage dump last time, sharpened and still usable.
Then he crouched in the corner and began to draw.
The first stroke fell, forming a massive circle—that was the central processor.
The second stroke extended countless fine lines from the circle—those were the data buses.
The third stroke connected small squares to the ends of the fine lines—those were storage units, computing modules, interface circuits...
He drew slowly, thinking with every stroke.
This was no ordinary computer. It needed to store vast amounts of data, perform complex simulations, and be secure enough—if those technical details were leaked, the consequences would be unimaginable.
So, it needed encryption. Multiple layers of encryption, preferably using the Quantum Encryption Principle.
It also needed network connectivity. Future intelligence gathering, market analysis, and public opinion monitoring would all rely on the network. But connecting to the network meant risks, so it had to have a powerful firewall, ideally one with active defense capabilities.
It also needed remote access. He couldn't stay by the machine forever. Future partners—Xiao Guang, and those whose names he didn't yet know—would need to remotely access some of its functions.
And it needed...
"Wentian?"
Xiao Guang's voice came from behind. Nangong Wentian paused his hand but didn't turn around. "Awake?"
"Yeah, need to pee." Xiao Guang rubbed his eyes and walked over, peering over his shoulder. "What are you drawing?"
Nangong Wentian didn't answer, continuing to draw.
Xiao Guang didn't press him, just crouched beside him and watched. After a while, he suddenly said, "This looks like... a computer."
Nangong Wentian finally turned his head to look at him.
Eleven-year-old Xiao Guang still had sleepiness on his face, but his eyes were fixed on the paper, focused like an adult's.
"How do you know it's a computer?" Nangong Wentian asked.
"I don't know," Xiao Guang scratched his head. "It just looks like one. Look, is this the screen? This the keyboard? These lines..."
He pointed at the lines on the paper, growing less certain as he spoke.
Nangong Wentian fell silent for a moment, then said, "It's not a computer."
"Then what is it?"
"It's... something more powerful than a computer."
Xiao Guang's eyes lit up. "How much more powerful?"
Nangong Wentian thought for a moment, then pointed out the window. "See those power lines over there?"
Xiao Guang followed his finger. In the orphanage's yard stood a utility pole with several power lines stretching toward the nearby village.
"I see them."
"If a computer is like one of those power lines," Nangong Wentian pointed at the wires, "what I want to make is the power plant."
Xiao Guang was stunned for a moment, then his mouth fell open. "That powerful?!"
"Yes." Nangong Wentian lowered his head and continued drawing. "But it's difficult. It requires a lot of things."
"What things?"
"Chips, memory, circuit boards, monitors..." Nangong Wentian listed a series of items, then stopped and looked at Xiao Guang. "All of these are expensive and hard to get."
Xiao Guang scratched his head. "What do we do then?"
Nangong Wentian didn't answer, continuing to draw. But he already had an answer to Xiao Guang's question—
Find them in the garbage dump.
Around the capital of Orb, Orléans, there were many electronics markets and quite a few scrap recycling stations. Morgenroete's research and development produced a large amount of obsolete equipment, and the military also regularly disposed of old machinery. Some of these items would end up in secondhand markets, while others went straight to landfills.
If he could find suitable discarded components, take them apart, and reuse them...
"Xiao Guang," he suddenly asked, "do you know where there are places that collect scrap?"
Xiao Guang was taken aback. "Collect scrap?"
"Scrap yards, garbage dumps, places like that."
Xiao Guang thought for a moment. "There's one at the east end of the village, run by Old Man Yamada. He collects all kinds of scrap metal and old appliances. Last time I passed by, I saw a lot of broken computers piled up outside."
Nangong Wentian's eyes lit up.
Broken computers.
Even if they were faulty, they still had usable parts inside—circuit boards, chips, capacitors, resistors... As long as he could take them apart, they could be used.
"Take me to see after we eat."
"Okay!" Xiao Guang nodded excitedly, then asked, "But we don't have money to buy them, do we?"
Nangong Wentian fell silent for a moment.
That was indeed a problem. Although he had saved a little money—pocket money earned from helping Tanaka with chores and running errands for the nuns—it was far from enough to buy those things.
But scrap yard items shouldn't be expensive, right?
"Let's go take a look first."
After breakfast, Nangong Wentian and Xiao Guang slipped out of the orphanage and walked east along the village path.
The autumn fields were a golden yellow, with farmers harvesting rice. In the distance, the roar of tractors could be heard, and a few sparrows flew overhead.
Xiao Guang walked ahead, kicking small stones along the way. Nangong Wentian followed behind, still refining the blueprint in his mind.
"We're here." Xiao Guang suddenly stopped and pointed to a dilapidated courtyard ahead.
The courtyard was piled high with all kinds of scrap—rusty sheet metal, crushed cardboard boxes, worn-out tires, and a large heap of disassembled appliances. An old refrigerator lay across the entrance, its door missing and overgrown with weeds inside.
A white-haired old man sat in the courtyard, hammering a piece of sheet metal. Hearing footsteps, he looked up with a wary expression.
"What do you want?"
Xiao Guang took a step back and glanced at Nangong Wentian.
Nangong Wentian stepped forward, using the innocent tone a six-year-old should have. "Grandpa, we'd like to look at the scrap."
"Look at scrap?" The old man put down his hammer and sized them up. "What do kids want with scrap?"
"I... I like taking things apart," Nangong Wentian pointed at the pile of old appliances. "Can I open up the broken ones and take a look?"
The old man was taken aback, then chuckled. "You like taking things apart? Hah, that's rare. Sure, go ahead and look, but don't hurt your hands."
Nangong Wentian thanked the old man and walked over to the pile of old appliances.
His eyes quickly scanned the items—old televisions, broken radios, rusty motors, and several computers with damaged casings. His gaze settled on the computers, and his heartbeat quickened slightly.
"Can I open them up and take a look?" he asked.
"Go ahead." The old man didn't even look up, continuing to hammer his sheet metal.
Nangong Wentian crouched down and carefully pried open the casing of one of the computers. The circuit board inside was revealed, densely packed with components—chips, capacitors, resistors, ports...
His hands trembled slightly.
To him, these weren't scrap. They were treasure.
"How is it?" Xiao Guang leaned in and whispered.
"Good," Nangong Wentian lowered his voice. "Better than I expected."
He carefully examined the circuit board. Though it had aged, the chips on it were still usable—as long as they were carefully removed and cleaned, they could be reused.
"Grandpa," he turned and asked, "do you sell these scraps?"
The old man looked up. "Sell? Of course I sell. You want to buy?"
"This..." Nangong Wentian pointed at the computer. "How much?"
The old man walked over, glanced at the broken computer, and scratched his head. "This... it's so broken. If you want it, fifty Orb and it's yours."
Fifty Orb.
Nangong Wentian patted his pocket. He had only brought twenty Orb with him today—money he had saved from two months of allowance.
"Can you make it cheaper?" he asked.
The old man looked at him, then at the nervous Xiao Guang beside him, and suddenly smiled. "You kids, saving money isn't easy. Twenty Orb, take it."
Nangong Wentian was stunned for a moment, then immediately took out the twenty Orb and handed it to the old man. "Thank you, Grandpa!"
The old man took the money and waved his hand. "Take it, take it. Just don't hurt your hands."
Nangong Wentian and Xiao Guang worked together to lift the broken computer and carefully carried it back.
Along the way, Xiao Guang was ecstatic. "We got it for just twenty Orb! Wentian, you're amazing!"
Nangong Wentian didn't say anything, but his heart was racing.
This was the first time in this world that he had used money to buy "the future."
Back at the orphanage, they hid the computer in the old wooden box in the back kitchen. Nangong Wentian didn't dismantle it immediately—it was too dangerous during the day, too easy to be discovered. He had to wait until night, when everyone was asleep.
That night, after everyone in the dormitory had fallen asleep, Nangong Wentian quietly got up and slipped into the back kitchen in the dark.
He lit a candle he had stolen from the kitchen and, by its faint light, began dismantling the computer.
The screwdriver was one he had made himself by grinding down a piece of wire. Crude as it was, it worked well enough. He carefully unscrewed every bolt, removed every board, and pried off each chip, wrapping them in paper.
The process was slower than he had imagined. By the time he had dismantled all the usable parts, the sky outside was beginning to lighten with the first hint of dawn.
He hid the parts, stuffed the empty shell back into the deepest part of the wooden box, then quietly slipped back to the dormitory and lay down on his bed.
Xiao Guang turned over and asked sleepily, "Done?"
"Done," Nangong Wentian whispered.
Xiao Guang grunted and went back to sleep.
Nangong Wentian lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. In his hand, he still clutched a small chip—the CPU he had removed from the computer's motherboard. Though outdated, its computing power was stronger than anything he currently had.
With it, he could begin building the "Star Core."
With the "Star Core," he could store those technical documents, run simulations, and
...
He closed his eyes, a faint smile curling at the corners of his mouth.
Six years old.
After living in this world for six years, he was finally about to take his first real step forward.
Outside the window, the sun slowly rose, its golden light streaming through the window into the back kitchen, falling on the now-empty shell of the computer.
A new beginning.