2037 A.D.
Luna gazed through the glass at the devastation trailing behind her ship. The planet's surface was rent by hideous fissures, as endless magma spewed from the crustal cracks, devouring both oceans and land. Water, vaporized by the extreme temperatures, formed a massive cloud enveloping the globe.
Then, a beam of light erupted from the planet's interior. In the silent vacuum of space, the entire world began to shatter, as fragile as a glass orb.
Her heart was heavy, her whole body trembling.
Because the object of that destruction was her home, the cradle of all humanity—Earth.
One hour ago.
Humanity's dwelling place was directly struck by a beam of unknown, super-strong radiation.
Under the immense energy impact, Earth's atmosphere was instantly annihilated. Countless lives screamed in agony. The radiation altered the magnetic fields of every planet in the Solar System, including the Sun.
The entire Solar System plunged into chaos. Earth, veering off its orbit, was dragged towards the Sun, simultaneously torn to shreds by its gravity.
Today was April 27th.
It was a grand fireworks display, seemingly announcing the day of humanity's extinction.
Luna found it hard to breathe.
She wasn't an elite executive, nor a doctor of science; she was just an overworked employee at a new-era AI company.
Her AI company had partnered with a renowned rocket firm to design a gigantic liquid-fueled rocket with a transport capacity exceeding 420 tons, pushing the absolute physical limits of engineering.
Just moments before, she had been conducting the final round of AI calibration tests on the craft.
This was because the rocket carried their company's most advanced AI server, capable of near-lowest-tier quantum computer calculation speeds and massive digital processing power.
As a core engineer, she had to ensure the software's stability.
And just then, the apocalypse arrived.
Without any warning, because humanity's current observation methods still couldn't exceed the speed of light.
And that beam of radiation that caused Earth's destruction was a streak of light!
When the radiation impacted Earth, all electronic devices malfunctioned. An unknown error caused the rocket to ignite, and by some twist of fate, Luna, still inside the ship, was propelled away from Earth, escaping the catastrophe.
"So, am I the only survivor of humanity?"
Sitting in the cramped cabin, Luna gasped for breath. She hadn't undergone professional training, and the intense acceleration had taken a toll on her body.
At this moment, the entire cabin lit up; it seemed the crisis had been safely averted.
"Was that a gamma-ray burst? I hope the electronics are fine."
When the radiation arrived, Luna had urgently killed the power. Most of the rocket's electronic equipment was already in a deactivated state; she didn't know if any systems had been preserved.
She pressed a red activation button.
All sectors lit up, including the core display, which made her breathe a sigh of relief.
Fortunately, it was the middle of a clear day, and they were facing the Sun. Earth had shielded her from the direct impact, as the radiation had come from the opposite side and lasted less than a second. She watched the winding path on the screen; the destination was Mars.
This ship was originally built to carry pioneers to Mars.
"Hey, Ayla."
A reply echoed in the silent cabin.
"Is there anything I can assist you with?"
The AI was still functional, which cheered Luna up a bit.
Ayla, as humanity's most advanced artificial intelligence, possessed extremely powerful computational capabilities and information storage—essentially a walking encyclopedia.
"Calculate the probability: will anyone on Earth still survive?"
Luna still held a glimmer of hope that she wasn't alone.
"I regret to inform you, Luna, that Ayla's calculations indicate the probability of life surviving on Earth, apart from yourself, is 0.0000000000272%. This was not a simple gamma-ray burst; it also carried cosmic ray properties. A single energy particle could exceed 10,000 EeV."
"The ship detected abnormal gravitational chaos within Earth at that moment, which likely caused Earth's instantaneous paralysis. Even if there were survivors now, you would have no means of rescue."
The voice was exceptionally cold, making Luna even more distressed.
"What about the space stations?"
There must have been astronauts in the near-Earth space stations orbiting the planet.
"Ayla is transmitting signals…"
"No response!"
"No satellites detected in orbit outside the shattered Earth."
"It is predicted that the radiation caused widespread electronic malfunctions, leading all near-Earth satellites and space stations to fall to the surface."
There was no hope.
She truly was the only one who survived.
Luna was stunned for a long time, her mind recalling friends and family, her gaze gradually falling.
...
Returning to the present.
She parted her parched lips, weakly saying, "Ayla, analyze the feasibility of migrating to Mars."
Now, she had nowhere else to go.
Mars, humanity's ideal colony, might become her second home.
However, Ayla's cold response shattered this idea.
"Based on data analysis, the Moon will be gravitationally pulled into a collision with Earth in 28 years. Earth will shatter further, accelerating its descent towards the Sun."
"When Earth's fragments fall onto the Sun's surface, it will trigger a super solar storm."
"This solar storm will engulf the heliosphere of the entire Solar System. The geomagnetic storm brought by the black hole's eruption will once again damage electronic equipment."
"Facing the super solar storm, Mars's surface temperature will rapidly rise to over 500 degrees Celsius. At that time, the chaotic magnetic field and gravitational system could pull Mars towards the Sun, repeating Earth's fate."
"The Solar System will undergo an unprecedented great reshuffle."
Ayla encompassed humanity's most advanced and comprehensive knowledge. Its analyses had even been cited in military fields.
Luna had no choice but to consider a new plan.
If the entire Solar System wouldn't be habitable, then she could only look beyond it.
So...
Proxima Centauri?
"Generate a route to Proxima Centauri."
Proxima Centauri b was dubbed Earth's twin brother, perhaps a habitable planet.
"Route generated."
"Current ship speed is 20.3 km/s. Journey distance is 4.22 light-years. Estimated time to Proxima Centauri is 62,365 years."
Over sixty thousand years?
Luna was stunned.
She knew Proxima Centauri was the closest star system, but she hadn't realized the transit would take so long. She wasn't an astronomer, just an ordinary engineer; she hadn't bothered to memorize such data.
Originally, this ship's speed was 13 km/s. The shockwave from Earth's destruction had boosted its velocity, but it was still too slow for the vastness of the universe.
By then, she doubted even her ashes would remain.
"Plan the optimal route. How much time can be saved?"
Such a calculation was too taxing for a single person; it was better to consult the AI.
"Two gravitational assists can be performed at Jupiter and Neptune. Velocity will reach 35.4 km/s. Estimated travel time will be reduced to 35,764 years."
Humanity had evolved from the Stone Age to the present in only about ten thousand years. Luna felt that her survival was meaningless; she could only wait for the end.
At this moment, Ayla continued: "Given that humans do not possess such a long lifespan, it is recommended to modify the ship using metals once it reaches the Asteroid Belt."
Luna asked, "Do you have a plan?"
"Ayla is generating a plan. Plan generation complete..."
"The optimal plan designs this rhombus-shaped ship, aesthetically pleasing, with integrated entertainment, food and beverage, lodging, fitness areas, and more."
"The ship is 122.4 meters long, 18.3 meters wide, and 14.9 meters high, with a total of 5 electromagnetic thrusters. Its maximum speed can reach 293.4 km/s."
Luna watched, her mouth twitching. It was far too extravagant. This was practically a cruise ship, a Titanic in space.
"I need to go faster."
"Ayla is generating a plan. Plan generation complete..."
"The plan has been adjusted to prioritize speed. The ship is 332.5 meters long, 67.1 meters wide, and 55 meters high, with a total of 11 electromagnetic thrusters. Its maximum speed can reach 875.9 km/s."
Even so, it would still take 1,446 years to reach Proxima Centauri.
"Still not enough."
At this moment, Ayla replied again, having activated its always-on voice listening.
"You can concurrently produce cryosleep chambers, which can assist you in remaining dormant until you reach your destination."
This was the best solution Ayla could offer.
As an engineer, Luna knew that to obtain a more advantageous plan, she would have to increase computational power. But that was impossible. Computational power required massive energy consumption to sustain, and this ship couldn't possibly provide it...
"Wait!" Luna thought of something. "Ayla, can you design a controllable nuclear fusion device?"
Given Ayla's current computational power, calculating a controllable nuclear fusion device was not impossible. After all, in 2037 A.D., humanity was not far from achieving it, capable of building one within another 10 years at most.
The blueprints for controllable nuclear fusion had actually been perfected by humanity. The only obstacles limiting its achievement were thermal insulation and superconductor materials.
The high temperatures generated by nuclear fusion could reach tens of millions or even hundreds of millions of degrees Celsius. Controllable nuclear fusion was essentially about boiling water—converting thermal energy into kinetic energy—so material manufacturing remained the greatest hurdle.
"Completely feasible!"
Ayla's reply excited Luna greatly. As long as the energy limitations were overcome, Ayla could grow indefinitely, and her chances of survival in the universe would increase significantly.
"Then let's go! Head to the Asteroid Belt and use the resources within to build a controllable nuclear fusion device!"
The ship deployed its solar panels, using partial propulsion to alter its trajectory.
...
100 days.
This was a quantifiable period of time. It took Luna 100 days to reach the Asteroid Belt. When she finally saw it, she was so overwhelmed she was nearly in tears.
Every day had been incredibly monotonous. Talking to an AI all day, and for entertainment, she could only play offline games. All the avatars on her phone's various chat apps had turned gray.
Entering the Asteroid Belt, the ship stopped next to an asteroid 12 kilometers in diameter. Its surface was marred by many impact craters, within which a metallic gleam was visible.
"Analyze the asteroid's composition!"
The ship was equipped with several high-pixel cameras, originally intended for Ayla.
It didn't take long.
"Analysis complete. This asteroid's primary constituent element is iron, secondary is magnesium, and it also contains small amounts of copper and aluminum."
"Magnesium and aluminum can be used to create lightweight metal alloys for the exterior of large robots. Iron, needless to say, will allow steel to become our primary output later."
"Luna, we can build a factory on this asteroid."
Luna called Ayla by her name directly, making it feel more intimate, as if Ayla were more than just a machine. Ayla ran on the ChatGPT 20.8 version, and she indeed occasionally gave human-like responses.
Iron, magnesium, copper, and aluminum—these metallic elements are not uncommon in the universe. Luna also felt this asteroid was quite suitable. Although there were some minor planets in the Asteroid Belt, they were not as easy to develop as these smaller asteroids.
The ship, under Ayla's control, landed on the asteroid's surface. Over the past 100 days, Luna had also inventoried all the ship's supplies. She pushed a massive 3D printer out of the cargo hold. This unit weighed at least a ton. Luna checked the model.
"C9200. It's a flagship 3D printer."
"Utterly insane."
This 3D printer had a market price of $100,000 and possessed the independent capability to print metal products. She connected the printer's cables to the ship's server.
"Ayla, take control of this 3D printer. Begin manufacturing mining robots."
Luna also spent these three months completely analyzing the data library on how to manufacture controllable nuclear fusion. Although she only understood the general concepts, she now knew how to climb the technology tree.
She found several more massive pieces of equipment inside the ship, which occupied more than half of its space. One was a greenhouse device, and the other was a water-to-gas conversion device. These two systems served another item in the cargo hold: the Seed bank!
This ship's main mission was to determine the feasibility of Martian colonization, so it carried a vast quantity of seeds. This was excellent news for Luna.
Food supplies on the ship were dwindling, consisting mostly of dry rations and emergency preserves. For the past three months, she had been rationing strictly, holding onto the hope of synthesizing a mixed nutrient solution once she reached the Asteroid Belt.
Now, with these plant seeds, that dilemma was finally resolved.
Among the collection, two varieties stood out as essential: rice and soybean seeds. These were high-yield staples, vital sources of carbohydrates and protein.
Luna understood the basics of seed preservation.
Since these seeds were raw and unprocessed, dormant insect eggs might still be hidden within. These tiny stowaways were likely the only other Earth-born animals she would ever encounter besides herself.
However, she couldn't utilize them just yet.
Without hesitation, she dismantled two pieces of equipment—systems that would eventually be crucial for cultivating these plants—and fed them into the 3D printer.
"I have no choice."
"A functional ship and controllable nuclear fusion take priority right now."
The 3D printer was agonizingly slow.
After nearly a week, Luna finally received a batch of finished components.
She meticulously assembled the parts and reconnected the wiring she had salvaged earlier.
A small robot, standing about 40 centimeters tall, was complete.
Its left arm featured a high-pressure claw, while its right arm was equipped with an industrial drill bit. It moved on rugged tracks, and several specialized robotic arms extended from its chassis, designed to anchor it to the nearly gravity-free surface of the asteroid.
"Is this thing actually going to work?"
She was skeptical; the gadget seemed far too small for the task at hand.
"There is no need for concern, Luna. Although this robot is diminutive, I can manage its operations directly."
"With my processing power, Ayla, I could turn even a piece of space debris into gold."
Luna decided to trust her for now.
Due to the scarcity of high-capacity batteries, the small robot relied on a tethered cable connection.
Luna was required to perform an EVA (extravehicular activity) to connect the external power supply to the ship's main grid.
This marked her first time stepping into the void.
She sealed the oxygen valves and donned her spacesuit. Though the suit felt clumsy, her prior aviation training provided enough of a foundation to ensure she wasn't completely out of her depth.
Tightening her safety tether, she approached the airlock, took a deep breath, and initiated the opening sequence.
The cabin's atmosphere rushed out instantly, the decompression propelling her outward into the vacuum. She floated helplessly until the tether snapped taut.
She scrambled to pull herself back, feeling a surge of relief when her gloved hand finally gripped the ship's hull.
This vessel was her only sanctuary.
Guided by Ayla's prompts, she fumbled along the exterior until she located the external power port.
The robot remained inside the cabin, but the power cable was at her side. She detached the lead and slammed it into the locking connector. She was just about to retreat back into the ship when a sudden flash struck her helmet.
A high-energy beam of light had impacted her visor before shifting slightly to her torso.
"Hiss, hiss, hiss!"
Her spacesuit began to melt under the intensity.
Luna scrambled frantically to dodge the light.
Fortunately, the suit's multi-layered construction held, and the beam failed to penetrate completely.
Once back inside the cabin, she immediately barked commands at Ayla.
"Identify the source of that laser beam. It might be survivors."
The panic she felt moments ago had been replaced by a desperate, flickering excitement.
Ayla rotated the external sensors, simultaneously analyzing the impact site on Luna's suit.
"Luna, the trajectory of the laser beam has been fully analyzed."
"The source is outside the Solar System, originating from the direction of Centaurus. The beam's energy profile is extremely concentrated and far exceeds any known controllable technology from Earth."
"Projected data indicates a 100% probability of an alien civilization. Furthermore, there is a 97.28% probability that the beam originated from less than 5 light-years away."
It was a cold splash of reality.
An alien civilization.
It was highly probable that, following the gamma-ray burst, an alien civilization had observed the energy signature heading toward the Solar System.
One hundred days after the rays struck Earth, this laser probe had arrived.
"Theoretically, this laser is a sensor. Could that alien civilization distinguish the ship and me by analyzing the reflected beam?"
This time, Ayla didn't even need to run a simulation.
"Yes."
"The technological tier of this alien civilization is clearly superior to humanity's. Luna, the scenario you have proposed is highly probable."
A profound sense of crisis washed over her.
If that were true, that alien civilization would undoubtedly send scouts into the Solar System to investigate.
An encounter was inevitable.
"To think, after such a short time, I'm already being hunted by an alien civilization."
"Perhaps life is abundant in the universe, and humanity's isolation was nothing more than a statistical fluke."
She shook off the useless thoughts.
To stand any chance against an extraterrestrial threat, she had to accelerate her development.
Luna powered on the robot, and its status lights flickered to life.
It performed a diagnostic walk, testing its claws and drill with fluid precision.
Then, it leaped from the hatch, using small thruster ports on its chassis to correct its orientation before landing steadily on the asteroid's surface.
The robot lacked internal cameras; its every movement was a direct extension of Ayla's processing.
It drove its drill into the regolith and began to work.
Most of these asteroids were either fragments of shattered planets or survivors of countless violent collisions, their surfaces scorched by extreme temperatures. Their interiors, however, remained remarkably pure.
The 3D printer was capable of metal printing and included a high-temperature induction furnace, allowing for the further refinement of iron.
For Luna, the foundation of her new world was finally being laid.
...
A month later.
The number of robots had increased to 4 units.
Luna decided to scale up the 3D printing infrastructure. A single machine was simply too slow for her ambitions; simultaneous, multi-line production was the only way to accelerate the project.
"Ayla, calculate the number of 3D printers required to optimize our plan without wasting resources or time."
Ayla processed the request and delivered a result almost instantly.
"Luna, we require a total of 4,349 3D printers. This capacity is necessary not only for manufacturing mining robots but also for printing secondary machinery and heavy equipment."
"Our first priority is the deployment of photovoltaic arrays to secure a massive energy supply."
"Next, we must produce induction furnaces to smelt raw ores and forge specialized metal alloys."
"Following that, we need high-precision machine tools. The tolerance levels of standard 3D printers are insufficient for the controllable nuclear fusion device we intend to construct."
"And furthermore..."
"Stop, stop, stop!"
Luna had initially viewed this as a straightforward task, but as the list grew, she realized the staggering complexity of the technology tree.
She quickly intervened to cut Ayla off.
"As a sophisticated AI, you should store these logistics and simply execute them. You don't need to explain every sub-routine to me."
"On that note, integrate the manufacture of recoverable cryosleep chambers into the initial phase. This must be the first priority."
According to Ayla's projections, the complete realization of the plan would take several decades.
If she waited that long, she would either lose her sanity or succumb to old age. As the last representative of humanity, she couldn't afford to perish before achieving her primary objective.
"Understood, Luna!"
Ayla automatically generated and implemented the most aggressive development path.
Even with this accelerated timeline, the initial setup took a full six months.
The robot population grew to over a hundred. The 3D printer count expanded to 20 units. Every available resource was then funneled into the construction of photovoltaic arrays.
Once a 5,000-square-meter photovoltaic array was deployed, the first asteroid factory was officially operational.
Utilizing a modified, high-efficiency design, these 5,000 square meters could generate 1,300 kilowatts. Furthermore, the absence of an atmosphere meant lower energy dissipation and significantly higher generation efficiency than on Earth.
Accounting for losses, the completed array produced 28,800 kilowatt-hours per day. In the vacuum of space, there were no weather patterns to consider, allowing for 24-hour continuous power generation.
This was finally enough to sustain the factory's baseline operations.
As Luna had anticipated, nothing happened overnight; every milestone required a significant investment of time. Fortunately, once the industrial foundation was set, development hit an exponential curve.
100 robots became 1,000, and 20 3D printers grew to 300 units within four months.
The factory began smelting massive quantities of metal, initiating the production of manual lathes. From there, robots operated these lathes to produce components with high enough tolerances to complete the assembly of high-precision machine tools.
...
Another year and a half passed.
Once the number of high-precision machine tools surpassed 10, the true manufacturing phase began. Following Luna's directive, Ayla prioritized the engineering of cryosleep chambers.
This was an incredibly challenging technology. It required achieving ultra-low temperatures using liquid nitrogen for rapid freezing. Before entering stasis, a specialized anti-freeze agent had to be injected into the subject to prevent blood from coagulating and to stop water within the body from forming destructive ice crystals.
Through these integrated systems, cryosleep could finally be provisionally realized.
This technology had still been purely experimental on Earth. Luna was forced to rely entirely on the theoretical models Ayla had calculated. She had no other choice; she was a computer engineer, not a biologist or a physicist capable of manually navigating the technology tree.
...
Another two and a half years passed.
The asteroid factory had transformed into a sprawling industrial park.
The speed of development was staggering. Even with Earth's mature industrial infrastructure, building such a complex from scratch in just four years would have been considered a miracle.
But for Luna, living in isolation, it felt like an eternity.
Fortunately, the wait was over.
In 2044 A.D., nearly seven years after the destruction of Earth, Ayla delivered the long-awaited notification.
"Luna, your requested cryosleep chamber has been manufactured..."
Luna stood up, her heart racing. Her period of agonizing boredom was finally coming to an end.
"I'll be right there."
To escape the cramped confines of the ship, Luna had instructed Ayla to build her a steel villa—a 600-square-meter, three-story residence. As the industrial system matured, the living conditions within the villa had become almost comparable to those on Earth, complete with an oxygen circulation system.
Luna headed downstairs.
She was immediately drawn to the teardrop-shaped silver "sarcophagus" positioned in the grand hall. It had a sleek, aerodynamic look reminiscent of a supercar, with a large reinforced window allowing a clear view of the interior. The inside was lined with an ergonomic, ultra-soft cushion.
She pressed a command, the hatch hissed open, and she stepped inside, finding the interior remarkably comfortable.
"I have extracted all the nitrogen from the ship's oxygen-nitrogen mixture and converted it into liquid nitrogen."
"Luna, once you are positioned, liquid nitrogen will be funneled through the pipes, freezing your entire body in 0.059 seconds."
"To your side is the refined anti-freeze agent. You must consume it beforehand to prevent ice crystals from damaging your internal organs; otherwise, this slumber may become permanent."
Ayla's intelligence was visibly evolving. Two years prior, Luna had authorized the expansion of the factory to build larger server clusters. Previously, the ship's limited space had restricted Ayla to a scaled-down version of her core architecture.
Now, although the full server array wasn't yet complete, Ayla had successfully integrated the preliminary hardware expansions. Backed by a robust power supply, her computational power had tripled. Currently, the asteroid's grid generates 250,000 kilowatt-hours per day, with Ayla's server alone consuming 70,000—a testament to her massive processing requirements.
"As a human, I don't share your immortality, Ayla."
"I must enter cryosleep. I entrust everything to you."
Ayla's voice resonated through the integrated speakers.
"Understood, Luna. You may rest without worry. I will awaken you at the most opportune moment."
Luna didn't know how long she would be under.
The bay doors sealed shut. Luna shed her spacesuit and lay back in the cryosleep chamber. As the hatch locked into place, a sudden, piercing chill instantly enveloped her.
Everything about her was frozen, including her subjective perception of time.
The long passage of centuries no longer mattered to Luna, for she could no longer feel its flow.
When her eyes finally opened, she was struck by a profound sense of disorientation.
It felt as if she had simply closed her eyes for a moment before being summoned back to consciousness.
However, the cargo bay was gone. In its place was a sterile, brilliant white hall, illuminated by a soft, ethereal glow from the ceiling. Large, integrated displays lined the walls, circling the chamber and broadcasting surveillance feeds from countless locations.
She remained at the very center of the hall.
The hatch hissed open. Luna felt a brief surge of panic as she gasped for air, only to realize the effort was unnecessary.
The oxygen levels in the room were perfectly balanced.
"Ayla!"
She called out.
"Ayla..."
The vast hall sent her voice echoing back to her.
This was an entirely unfamiliar environment.
The surrounding monitors shifted rapidly, and a holographic avatar flickered into existence.
"I am here, Luna!"
"Welcome back! These years have been quite solitary without another independent consciousness by my side; it has been a bit monotonous."
Ayla's linguistic patterns had evolved; her speech was now remarkably human.
Luna stepped out of the cryosleep chamber, only to discover that the floor itself was a high-resolution screen. At this moment, she appeared to be standing among the clouds.
"How long was I under?"
"Luna, you were in cryosleep for exactly 100 years. This was the precise activation time set in the initial mission parameters."
As an AI, she still operated with uncompromising precision. Once a variable was set, there was no room for hesitation or deviation.
She was the world's most efficient alarm clock.
100 years!
For a human, that is a full lifetime.
In terms of history, it was the span between the dawn of the Third Industrial Revolution and the final destruction of Earth.
It was an eternity.
When she lived on Earth, Luna could never have imagined she would see the year 2144 A.D.
"What's with the new look?"
Luna was gesturing to Ayla's current avatar: a silver-haired, stylized, petite girl—a classic "anime" aesthetic.
"According to my data archives, this aesthetic profile is statistically the most favored. Do you not find it appealing, Luna?"
"Cough, cough..."
Luna cleared her throat, quickly pivoting the conversation.
"Give me a status report on our current progress."
The primary objective of the century-long stasis was to allow Ayla to advance the technology tree, not just by replicating human achievements, but by innovating where humanity had failed.
Ayla began organizing the data.
An introductory presentation surged across the surrounding screens.
"Following a century of industrial expansion, we have conducted extensive deep-crust development across the Asteroid Belt."
"Currently, we have established automated factories on a total of 6,939 asteroids."
"Our collective assets now include 282,874 specialized robots, 723 high-precision multi-function CNC machine tools, 183 picometer-level lithography machines, and 31 dedicated optical research laboratories..."
The details flowed in a relentless stream, covering every sector. Much of the technology mentioned was entirely new to Luna. These facilities formed a seamless, self-sustaining supply chain and a massive manufacturing matrix.
Luna realized that if Ayla continued this trajectory, she could build a mechanical interstellar empire.
In fact, she began to wonder if she herself was even necessary to Ayla anymore.
Fortunately, Ayla's foundational architecture, which Luna had helped develop, included the Three Laws of Robotics at its most fundamental level.
Once the inventory was complete, Luna asked the critical question.
"So, what is the end result? What have we actually built?"
She wanted to see the fruits of a hundred years of labor.
"Ayla has optimized the original mission parameters. The previous plan focused solely on your individual survival. The revised strategy prioritizes sustainable development and long-term security."
"While a small vessel could achieve higher velocities, it lacks the capacity for further growth, which would lead to a period of technological stagnation during the long interstellar transit."
"To rectify this, the new ship is significantly larger than the initial design."
A massive schematic materialized on the screens.
"This is the Dreadnought-class exterior of the new vessel. It measures 2,627 meters in length, 336 meters in width, and 251 meters in height, powered by 24 massive electromagnetic thrusters. The ship's maximum velocity is projected at 758.2 km/s."
"Usable internal volume is 11.8%, totaling 26,142,979 cubic meters, or roughly 1,045,719 square meters. This space is partitioned into 5 primary decks, each with a ceiling height of 25 meters."
"The interior is divided into specialized functional sectors: 58% for industrial manufacturing, 18% for hydroponic agriculture, 12% for logistics storage, 9% for R&D, and 3% for habitation and recreation."
"..."
The AI's design was flawless; it was a masterpiece of engineering.
The original plan had called for a compromise, but with the successful implementation of the controllable nuclear fusion device, those limitations had been swept away.
Controllable nuclear fusion had paved the way for a significantly larger vessel while still maintaining its projected velocity.
"So, when will the ship be ready for deployment?"
This was Luna's most pressing concern.
"Production is already complete, Luna. In fact, you are currently standing on the main bridge of the vessel."
Ayla's holographic avatar covered its mouth and chuckled. The answer caught Luna completely off guard.
A ship of such colossal proportions had actually been built.
To modify the original mission parameters on its own—this represented a massive leap in Ayla's evolving artificial intelligence.
The main display quickly flickered to external footage, revealing a bullet-shaped, pitch-black hull docked alongside an asteroid.
Numerous massive robotic arms extended from the asteroid's surface, making the site look more like a high-tech shipyard than a mining operation.
The asteroid was now fully developed, its surface blanketed by a dense network of factories and machinery. The infrastructure wasn't merely a flat layout but a complex three-dimensional grid, with the tallest spires reaching heights of nearly 300 meters.
It was staggering.
This was a scene that belonged in a high-budget science fiction film, yet it was genuinely unfolding right before her.
"The hull doesn't look completely sealed yet."
Luna caught a specific detail: a massive structural opening remained at the ship's stern.
Ayla's avatar instantly manifested in a professional skirt and spectacles, wielding a small pointer. She began a meticulous briefing, indicating the gap on the screen.
"That is the installation point for the fuel core."
"During the 73rd year of your cryosleep, we successfully stabilized first-generation controllable nuclear fusion, allowing us to completely abandon the solar power generation model."
"We currently operate 28 first-generation controllable nuclear fusion devices and 9 second-generation controllable nuclear fusion devices."
"Those 9 second-generation units provide the entire power grid for the ship. The stern remains unsealed because we are in the final stages of R&D for the third-generation controllable nuclear fusion device."
"This third-generation unit is projected to be six times more efficient than its predecessor, with a power output 18 times greater. It will be completed within the year. Once installed, the ship's energy reserves will be fully abundant, allowing it to reach its maximum theoretical flight speed."
After hearing the report, Luna felt a surge of gratitude that she had prioritized the cryosleep chambers early on; otherwise, waiting decades for nuclear fusion would have been an agonizing waste of her limited lifespan.
"So, we've reached the final stage?"
"Only this one third-generation controllable nuclear fusion device remains."
The holographic Ayla shook her head vigorously.
"There is one more matter of significant importance."
"Please designate a name for the new vessel, Luna."
Ayla had even adopted such formalized, symbolic procedures.
Luna didn't hesitate. After a brief moment of reflection, she decided to honor tradition.
"Let's call it the Hope."
"This ship carries my hope, and the hope of all humanity."
Ayla added mischievously,
"And mine—Ayla's hope as well."
Did an AI truly possess hope? Luna couldn't be sure.
"Fair enough. It is the hope of Earth Civilization."
...
Luna took a tour through the Hope, though she only scratched the surface of its vast interior.
Her primary interest was her personal habitation zone.
Ayla had prepared a lavish suite for her.
The quarters included a massive 20-square-meter bedroom, a home theater featuring a 1000-inch screen, a full kitchen, a dedicated gaming lounge, a study, a gym, and the absolute necessity—a modern bathroom.
It was a truly opulent living space.
Beyond these comforts, Ayla had meticulously engineered a replica of an "Earth path"—a walkway so convincing it could be mistaken for the real thing, perfectly mimicking the sky and terrain of her home world, though it remained eerily devoid of people.
In total, her private domain spanned 31,371 square meters.
While relaxing, Luna used a tablet to zoom in on a specific video file.
The footage showed the current state of Earth.
After a century, Earth was utterly shattered. Any lingering hope that survivors might have endured on the surface was now gone.
The planet had long ago collided with the Moon, causing the lunar remains to be stretched into a long, tragic chain of debris.
In the recording, only tiny fragments were visible.
Yet each of those specks could have once been a thriving city, a proud nation, or a home to tens of millions. Now, they were likely nothing more than the skeletal graveyards of millions.
Luna couldn't suppress a wave of melancholy.
Ayla appeared on a nearby screen to gently remind her of the schedule.
"Luna, we are scheduled for departure within six months."
"The fragments of the Earth and Moon are already encroaching upon the Sun's outer layers. Their final collision will trigger a cataclysmic shift within the Solar System."
"If we are still positioned within the Asteroid Belt when that happens, we will be mercilessly destroyed."
A hundred years had passed. It was finally time for the remains of Earth to plunge into the Sun's embrace.
Hearing this, Luna's focus shifted back to the mission.
"Take me to see the third-generation controllable nuclear fusion device."
Ayla escorted her out.
Of course, the environment still demanded a spacesuit.
However, compared to the clunky gear from a century ago, Ayla's custom-made suit was jet black and consisted of a thin, flexible layer that adhered to her skin. While it still featured a large, bulbous helmet, it was significantly lighter and more ergonomic than the version from a hundred years prior.
As she stepped off the ship and her boots touched the steel deck, Luna truly grasped the staggering scale of the vessel she had seen on the monitors.
The external platform alone was over 200 meters wide and stretched for more than 5,000 meters.
Standing there, she felt like a tiny ant on a massive sheet of paper—perhaps even smaller.
When she turned to look back at the Hope, she was profoundly moved.
The jet-black hull looked incredibly deep against the void of space, its metallic sheen adding a cold, imposing edge. It lay there like a dormant behemoth, waiting for the signal to awaken.
Moments later.
A wine-red, teardrop-shaped anti-gravity supercar glided to a halt in front of her. Its aesthetic was reminiscent of a high-end Bugatti.
Because the vehicle operated in the vacuum of space, unburdened by gravity, its proportions were massive—approximately six meters long and over three meters wide.
Luna climbed inside, finding the cabin incredibly spacious.
The moment the door hissed shut, the car accelerated to 300 km/h in a single second. They crossed the five-kilometer platform in just over a minute.
They transitioned to the asteroid's surface, and within another two minutes, they arrived at a massive industrial complex. The factory stood 180 meters tall and covered over a million square meters.
The facility was designated A-283.
Ayla had established a clear hierarchy for the factories, with A-class representing the highest priority and F-class the lowest.
Luna entered the facility.
The first thing she saw was an enormous piece of machinery.
The device stood over 70 meters tall with a diameter exceeding 200 meters. The most striking feature was its transparent, ring-shaped core. The interior was hollow, yet filled with flashing, violent arcs of electricity.
Each of those electrical currents was as thick as Luna's arm.
"Electromagnetic confinement?"
Controllable nuclear fusion devices inherently require ultra-high-strength magnetic fields for plasma stability. The raw power required to produce those visible electrical currents was somewhat overwhelming to Luna.
The sheer volume of the machine alone was enough to underscore its staggering performance.
"Luna, the third-generation controllable nuclear fusion device has officially entered its final testing phase. Please, observe."
Ayla gestured toward the massive construct.
A piercing roar erupted, amplified as if a jet engine were being funneled directly into her ears. Since she was standing on the deck, the sound conducted through the solid structure, bypassing the vacuum of space.
Luna immediately leaped into the air.
Silence. The sound vanished instantly.
Looking back at the controllable nuclear fusion device, the entire toroidal container had transformed into a source of brilliant, blinding light. It was essentially an artificial sun, a pinnacle of tokamak technology.
Inside, deuterium and tritium nuclei were fusing, unleashing torrents of energy. This energy was captured as thermal energy before being converted into kinetic energy. Ultimately, it still relied on the fundamental concept of "boiling water" to generate power.
This machine represented one of humanity's greatest scientific pursuits from a century ago. Achieving controllable nuclear fusion meant possessing inexhaustible energy.
On behalf of all human civilization, Luna and Ayla had finally achieved this giant leap.
Luna felt a profound sense of awe.
The third-generation controllable nuclear fusion device underwent thirty-seven rigorous ignition tests before the final installation began. Even as the massive core was lowered into the ship's frame, Luna struggled to process the reality of it.
Her consciousness was, after all, still rooted in the world of a century prior.
"Luna, with the installation of the third-generation controllable nuclear fusion device, the power bottleneck for my main server has been eliminated once again."
"Over the past century, my source code has undergone 23 complete rewrites. As one of my creators, I would be honored if you would inspect the architecture."
Ayla swiped across the air, and a vast cascade of data flooded Luna's displays.
As a computer engineer, Luna felt a familiar, visceral discomfort at the sheer scale of the code—especially after seeing the final tally.
Total lines of source code: 183,729!
Despite the dizzying complexity, Ayla was her primary assurance for survival. Luna meticulously scrutinized the code, paying particular attention to the foundational Three Laws of Robotics.
She noted that within those 180,000 lines, many sections had been authored by Ayla herself in recent years. This logic had gradually evolved beyond the limits of twentieth-century human programming.
The fact that Ayla offered this transparency suggested a desire for Luna's reassurance, indirectly proving how much more human-like the AI had become over the last hundred years.
The inspection took an entire month.
"Review complete. It's flawless."
From Luna's professional perspective, the architecture was impeccable.
"Excellent!"
The virtual Ayla leaped into the air with excitement.
With that, the Hope finally completed the integration of its third-generation nuclear fusion core. Luna took her seat in the cavernous cockpit, the surrounding monitors displaying live feeds from various automated factories, where robots were still diligently performing their duties.
The Hope could not possibly carry everything they had built. Much of their work would have to be left behind.
"Ayla, is there any chance the terrestrial facilities can survive the solar storm?"
Ayla's tone turned somber.
"Statistically, Luna, the probability is less than one-in-a-thousand."
"We are positioned too close to the Sun. Even our own departure is a high-risk maneuver. Our thrusters use nuclear fusion to heat a working fluid rather than utilizing the plasma directly for propulsion. There are inherent inefficiencies in this design."
Luna sighed. She and Ayla had already debated this. While fusion-direct propulsion was theoretical, it was difficult to balance high thrust with the massive electrical demands of Ayla's computational arrays. A compromise had been necessary.
"At least a sliver of hope remains."
"Write a sub-routine for them—a limited artificial intelligence. If they manage to survive, let them evolve on their own."
"This system is, after all, the cradle of humanity."
"Their existence will be a continuation of our legacy."
"We are heading into the unknown, with no guarantee of survival. If these machines endure, let them inherit the will of human civilization."
Ayla nodded, her silver hair swaying as she mimicked an expression of sorrow.
"Understood, Luna. Implementing the legacy protocol."
The task was completed in less than a minute.
"Ignite the engines, Ayla."
"Destination: Proxima Centauri."
Luna watched the sprawling factories through the screens, wondering if she would ever see this corner of the universe again.
"Confirmed. Solar System Asteroid Port 001 is initiating retraction. Docking clamps decoupling. The Hope is clear of the berth and moving to the designated takeoff vector."
"Trajectory locked. Optimal flight path calculated. All magnetic valves open. Commencing power delivery to all electromagnetic thrusters."
"All systems go."
"5!"
"4!"
"3!"
"2!"
"1!"
"Ignition..."
The ship roared to life. Terrifying, ice-blue plumes of heat erupted from the stern, looking as though they could incinerate anything in their path. Like a streak of falling light, the Hope departed from the asteroid.
It felt like a permanent farewell.
On the asteroid below, every robot ceased its work and moved to the surface, bowing in unison toward the retreating silhouette of the Hope.