The "Memorial" hall at Stanford University buzzed with noise, thick and suffocating under the weight of heat and humidity. Hundreds of black robes moved in waves like a restless sea, and the sounds of laughter and camera clicks filled the room. But for Ethan Ryder, the commotion felt far away, as if he were watching it through a thick pane of glass.
Ethan sat in the middle rows, rubbing his rough hands, calloused from years of soldering circuit boards. He was nothing like his classmates planning summer trips to Europe or chasing plush offices in Silicon Valley. Ethan worried about his overdue garage rent and the experimental chip that had burned out yesterday in his desperate attempt to connect neural signals to digital processors. His dream was vast—but his pocket was empty.
As the dean ascended the stage, delivering a polished speech about "the generation that will change the world," Ethan felt a sudden, sharp twinge behind his right ear, like a burning needle piercing his skin. He jerked in his seat, pressing his head hard, thinking it was a severe migraine from sleepless nights and hunger.
But the pain didn't fade; it transformed into a steady, electric rhythm. Suddenly, colors in his vision began to blur, and a transparent, flickering screen appeared before his eyes, dancing with strange programming symbols—languages no human had ever seen, moving at a frenzied speed.
[... Attempting connection ...]
[Alert: Data packet integrity deteriorating ...]
[Chronology mismatch error ... Data corrupted 90% ...]
["Core Advisory Protocol" restored only ...]
Ethan's breath caught; his heart thudded in his chest like a creeping drum. He whispered under his breath, glancing around nervously to see if anyone noticed his state: "What…? Am I hallucinating from lack of sleep?"
The reply came instantly—not as an audible voice, but as a thought, planted suddenly in the center of his awareness, calm, deep, and cold as if emerging from a cosmic void:
[You are not hallucinating, Ethan Ryder. I am Aeon, an advanced advisory unit from the temporal era (T +10,000 years). A catastrophic malfunction occurred during a temporal return attempt, corrupting most of my database. I exist now in my most basic functional form.]
Ethan's face paled. He pressed his back into the plastic chair, trying to comprehend the words. "Ten thousand years? That's insane… What do you want from me? Why me?"
[I am not here to lead you or grant superpowers; my current systems do not permit it. I am here to be your tool. As a technical assistant, I can guide and suggest solutions based on what remains of my data, but sovereignty and decision-making are yours alone. My capabilities are extremely limited now, yet I can help nurture the scientific 'seed' you struggle with in your garage.]
"Ethan Ryder!"
The dean's voice boomed across the hall. It was Ethan's turn to receive his diploma.
He stood unsteadily, his legs tingling strangely. He walked toward the stage amid routine applause. As he extended his hand for the handshake, another sharp twinge coursed through him—this time followed by a subtle surge of energy in his nerves.
[You have activated only 2% of your neural processor's capacity to tolerate my presence without your biological brain collapsing. This boost grants heightened focus and faster information processing. The rest depends on your will.]
Ethan held the diploma in his hand. Cold and rigid. He looked at the dean, then at the hundreds of faces observing him, and felt a mental clarity he had never experienced before. The fog that had clouded his thoughts for years dissipated completely. He no longer saw the diploma as an achievement, but as a passport to leave this old world behind.
He descended the stage with steady steps, no longer trembling. "Aeon, if you are truly my assistant, you know I need money first. My project requires massive funding, and the bank will seize my equipment tomorrow."
[I can analyze hidden patterns in the global real-time trading algorithms, but my remaining ethical protocols prevent direct theft or illegal manipulation. I will present the data and potential opportunities, and you decide when and how to pull the digital trigger.]
Ethan smiled enigmatically as he exited through the large hall doors, leaving the celebratory noise behind. The sunlight hit his face sharply, but it did not bother him. He knew that Aeon concealed secrets behind layers of encryption that could redefine existence itself, and that his journey to decode this assistant would run parallel to his path to market dominance.
"Aeon," Ethan said as he walked away from the campus, "you said you were an advisor… Fine, let's start by finding an isolated place. We'll build something this era has never seen, my way. I want to see what we can do with the remaining 10% of you."
[At your command, Ethan. I will begin scanning available properties that meet the security standards we will require.]
Ethan folded his diploma and tucked it into his back pocket like an ordinary sheet of paper, and set off toward his new future.