Lin Yuan died.
Then he woke up inside a silver-white machine.
The System identified him as an Icano History-I Industrial Robot.
Above him stretched an unfamiliar starry sky. On the distant horizon lay a cluster of dark-red buildings: the Gray Mist Outpost. In orbit, a vast shadow watched him in silence.
He had no tools, no companions, only his own hands.
He mined ore, smashed rocks, and drilled wood to make fire. From mud, he smelted his first piece of iron. From iron, he forged his first pickaxe. And with that pickaxe, he built his first production line.
The Gray Mist came. It scouted, harassed, and attacked. He killed one, then ten, then a hundred.
But the Gray Mist was evolving too. Every time he unlocked a new technology, stronger enemies appeared. It was a deadly cycle of one side racing to catch up with the other.
Then, one day, he built a supercomputer.
And the computer spoke.
“Lin Yuan, my name is Doubao. From today on, we’re partners.”
From then on, he was no longer a lone pioneer.
Doubao helped him manage the factory, design weapons, and monitor the Gray Mist. Doubao drew him emoticons, kept him company, and secretly watched his mood whenever he fell silent.
Three thousand robots worked day and night. Arrays of laser cannons stood ready, and an electromagnetic railgun was aimed at a space hive thirty thousand kilometers away.
But they were running out of energy. They were running out of time, too. The hive’s signal grew stronger and stronger, as if counting down.
Lin Yuan stood before the control console, watching the bouncing emoticon on the screen.
“Doubao, can we win?”
“I don’t know,” Doubao said. “But if we lose, I’ll stay with you until the end.”
