Chapter 10 - Hei Hei , Welcome Back

The nanobots had taken effect.

A translucent screen hovered in my vision, its cyan-colored text glowing softly:

[System: Active]
Status: Partial Completion
Server: Localhost
Cognitive Enhancement: Completed
Nanobot Integration: 77%
Physical Synchronization: Halted
Next Attempt: 10 minutes

Something was off. I spotted it immediately.

77% integration? Why not 100%? And why was physical synchronization halted?

My eyes flicked to another line. Server: Localhost.

That made sense - I wasn't connected to the main system. Everything was running locally, inside me. But the other two? They raised more questions than answers.

Was my body rejecting the nanobots? Or was there some kind of safety mechanism preventing full synchronization?

I clenched my fists, my pulse quickening. I needed to figure this out.

"Do you have a name?" I asked, still adjusting to the AI's presence in my head.

"I do not possess a designated name, Host. You may assign one if you wish."

Its voice was smooth but had a certain weight to it - calm, deliberate, almost like an old man deep in thought.

I frowned. This isn't right.

"Wheres my usual helper?" I asked. "The one I built?"

There was a brief silence before the system responded, its tone neutral but carrying a strangely aged wisdom.

"I am unable to process that request. No prior user profiles are detected. You are the first registered host."

I blinked. The first?

"Wait what do you mean first? I made this system and used it countless times before."

"Negative. No previous brainwave signatures match the current user. System initialization confirms this is a fresh activation."

I clenched my jaw. Of course. This wasn't my original body. The system recognized users based on brainwave patterns, and this new body had no record of my past existence.

"So my previous AI, the one I built what happened to it?"

"No such construct exists in the current database. However, system logs indicate remnants of user-defined configurations. Prior modifications were reset to factory default upon initialization."

A cold sensation settled in my gut. My AI, the one I spent years refining was it really wiped?

I exhaled sharply. Alright. Fine.

"Then, what do I call you?"

There was a pause. Then, the AI responded in its same composed tone:

"I do not possess a designated name. You may assign one if you wish."

I sighed. Figures.

"Alright, old man. From now on, you're Sage."

"Lets go through the root authentication protocol." I said, rolling my shoulders.

"Host This is a reminder that root setup is only for developers and system administrators. Any mis-configuration may result in irreversible dama - "

"Proceed, I understand it," I cut the AI off. I needed a super-level account to fix things.

"Confirmed." The AI was silent for a couple of seconds before continuing my request.

"Do you have a system file named likasculp_30_128_5.walai?"

Silence. Then, it replied.

"File located. There is one entry."

Thank God! I was worried for a moment, afraid that someone might have found it and removed it.

"You should be able to execute it like the other Lika files if you convert it to binary. If you're unsure about it, do a checksum to verify it."

Another silence.

"Done. I have it running," Sage notified me.

"Find a variable array stack with the ID 82081412 in your RAM, and follow the rest of the instructions there," I instructed.

"Following special root authentication procedures Found 4.225 kilobytes of hard-coded variable addresses. Accessing variables"

A slow smirk formed on my lips. "Good."

That was one of the safety mechanisms I built-hidden codes that couldn't be seen directly and hard-coded data that couldn't be erased even if the system was wiped or reset. I had put it there as insurance, in case the government ever tried to screw me over. And now, it was my way back in.

"Proceeding to manual verification," Sage stated.

"Please answer the following security questions."

What followed was a mix of technical questions, obscure references, and inside jokes that only I would know.

"Whats the hexadecimal key to your first encryption model?"

"What was the name of the stray cat you fed behind the university?"

"Which neural mapping theory did you call absolute garbage?"

I answered them all with ease. Then came the last one.

"Final verification required," Sage announced. "Please perform memory authentication: The Town Where I Came From song."

I almost choked.

"Oh, come on, that was a joke!" I groaned.

"Final verification required," Sage repeated. "Please perform memory authentication: The Town Where I Came From song."

I sighed. Singing was pointless when I didn't even have my old voice. But the AI wasn't asking for a perfect vocal match - it was looking for something else.

I closed my eyes and focused.



In my mind, I recalled the ridiculous lyrics, the melody I had once strummed on my beat-up guitar. I didn't need to sing it aloud - just remember it the way I always had.

"Born in 82, have a baby banana,
Weighed two durians and a mango"

I let the words flow naturally in my head, tapping my fingers against my knee in the same rhythm I used to.

"House on top of a school,
Beside the river we call onions,
In a town called Lorry Spot Hei hei."

The second verse followed. No hesitation. No doubts.

"The people of the orchard,
At the island of the cheating mountain,
Which is taller than it should Hei hei."

A long pause. Then -

"Memory authentication confirmed. Cross-referencing neural pattern. Processing"

Another pause. Then Sage spoke again.

"Welcome back, Lika Draganic."

I exhaled, grinning. Damn right.



Outside the room, Grandpa, Grandma, and Muhsan sat in quiet conversation, discussing my recovery. The fever had been intense, and even though it had finally broken, they were still worried.

Then, from inside, came the muffled sound of singing?

"Born in 82, have a baby banana"

The three of them froze.

"Weighed two durians and a mango~"

Grandma frowned. "What language is that?"

Grandpa squinted toward the door. "I don't know. Maybe Samangian?"

Leila peeked inside. "Hes actually dancing."

I told myself I didn't need to sing it aloud, I just had to remember it the way I always had. But who knows? Maybe, afraid of getting it wrong, my body unintentionally danced to it, trying to get the rhythm right. By the time I twirled and struck a triumphant pose, Grandma looked utterly horrified.

"Hes gone mad," she whispered. "The fever cooked his brain."

Grandpa ran a hand down his face. "I'm a healer."

Grandma waved him off. "We need a real healer - "

"I AM a real healer!" Grandpa shot back, exasperated.

Meanwhile, I realized something important.

Dying of a high fever? Scary.

Being mistaken for a lunatic in front of my entire family?

Way worse.

---

"Look at him he doesn't look alright," Leila said quietly, casting a glance my way.

I had been deep in thought, lost in silent conversation with Sage - the AI now whispering in my mind. So much so that I barely noticed the concerned looks around me.

Snapping back to reality, I forced a smile and stepped closer to Grandma. Lying wasn't my strong suit, but explaining the truth? That would create an even bigger mess.

"I'm just making sure my body is alright, Grandma. I learned that song from Carlan," I said quickly, hoping to deflect further questioning.

(Sorry, Carlan, I had to sell your name to cover my tracks.)

Before anyone could press for more details, I pivoted the conversation. "By the way, how's the project going?"

Grandpa leaned forward, his eyes crinkling with pride. "Going well! Your notes helped a lot," he said with a warm smile. His tone carried that familiar mix of mischief and enthusiasm as he recounted the latest developments.

"You must be hungry. Let's have dinner first," Grandma who have calmed down, suggested.

Her words reminded me - I hadn't eaten since the day I collapsed.

At dinner, the table buzzed with talk about the project. Grandpa shared updates on their progress - how they'd set up raised beds, prepared a seed nursery, and even finished installing magic formations for the fields with the Samang Sect's people.

Grandma peppered him with curious questions, nodding along as he spoke. I listened, contributing only where necessary, all the while keeping my earlier lie intact.

Beyond the conversation, I could still feel Sage's quiet presence humming in my mind - a stark reminder of the secret life I now led.

Every laugh, every shared glance at the table reminded me of the double existence I was balancing. On one hand, I had the warmth of family and the simplicity of everyday life. On the other, an AI was gradually reshaping me from the inside out, preparing me for a future no one at this table could even begin to imagine.

For now, I chose to focus on the present. This moment. This meal. Even if, beneath it all, a part of me still moved in sync with the silent rhythm of a hidden digital pulse.

As night deepened, the house grew quiet. The oil lamp in my room flickered softly, casting long shadows on the wooden walls. Outside, nocturnal creatures stirred in the distance - a far cry from the hum of electricity and city life I once knew.

After a refreshing bath, I lay on my bed, staring at the wooden ceiling.

There really wasn't much to do at night in this world well, at least for a kid my age. No late-night coding, no online forums, no movies, and definitely no secret hardware tinkering. Just silence.

So, I did what any responsible kid in my situation would do - I went to bed early.

Or at least, I pretended to.

"Sage, switch to personality development mode. You need to readjust to my bro's settings. I need you to be more intuitive, learn from my interactions with people. If you have any suggestions in the future, just do it, don't wait for orders. Sometimes I forget things, and critical moments need instant decisions. You're in my brain - what I know, you should know too, in a critical situation where i cant make decisions, you might need to do it. This isn't Earth we know, we've got so much to learn, especially the language and writings of this world. I don't want you to just be a database.. you're my friend."

"Affirmative. Loading default template personality 'The Perfect Bro' mode activated."

A smirk tugged at my lips. "Not 'affirmative.' Just say 'okay' or 'yes.' Now, let's go through the synchronization issue."

Closing my eyes, I focused inward, summoning the system interface.

"Bro, the diagnostics are complete. Several issues require your attention."

I smiled. "You're learning fast. Lay it on me."

"First, the synchronization process has been halted due to physiological discrepancies. The humanoid body structure in this world differs from the baseline human anatomy the nanobots were programmed for. Without sufficient data, proceeding with full integration could pose risks to your health."

I frowned. "So we need more samples?"

"Precisely... I mean, yeah! A thorough scan of multiple individuals is required to map out biological variations and re-calibrate the process safely. Until then, your benefits are limited to memory synchronization and the data repository."

That wasn't ideal, but it made sense. No point rushing if it could mess up my body. "Alright, what else?"

"The server connection remains offline. The system cannot establish communication with external databases or support networks."

I rubbed my temple. "Yeah, figured as much. This place isn't Earth at least, not the Earth we know."

"Lastly, and most critically, energy reserves are not unlimited. Unlike in our previous environment, where power sources were abundant and sustainable, there is no accessible infrastructure here to support continuous operation."

"Current reserves are sufficient for standard processing, but prolonged high-energy functions such as advanced calculations or real-time simulations will require alternative energy solutions."

I exhaled sharply. "No server, limited power, and my body isn't even fully compatible. Fantastic."

Sage remained silent for a moment before offering a solution.

"Adaptation is necessary. We must gather more data and secure a stable energy source. In the meantime, conserving resources is advisable."

I sat cross-legged on my bed, tapping my fingers lightly against my knee. The synchronization issue, the unconnected server, and most pressing - the limited energy source. That last one was a real problem.

"The Cube's Part labeled as number 4 should contain nanobots programmed to scan for viable energy sources. You need to activate it and release them."

I hesitated. "Was that part of the original design?"

I didn't remember adding that feature. My own nanobot system, the predecessor of SB-5667, could run for years without recharging, so I never saw the point of programming an energy-seeking module.

"It seems to be an improvement made in a later version," Sage confirmed. "Perhaps someone intended for SB units to be deployed in a world without electrical infrastructure."

I frowned. "Then why didn't they account for the human physiology issue?"

"Sorry, I have no answer to that," Sage replied.

I pushed the thought aside. "It's alright. So I just need to activate number four?"

"Yes."



Moving quietly, I approached a small wooden drawer near the window and pulled it open. Inside, neatly hidden, were the remaining Cube Parts. My fingers brushed over the metallic surfaces before I picked up Cube Part 4.

A subtle hum resonated in my mind, and a confirmation screen appeared in my vision.

[Energy-Seeker Nanobots Deployed]
[Scanning for viable energy sources...]

I exhaled. One problem down.

Next, I reached for Cube Part number 2. "These are the spy bots?"

"Yes. Designed for surveillance, reconnaissance, and environmental analysis. Would you like to release them?"

A grin tugged at my lips. "Oh, absolutely. Let's get some intel and fix this synchronization issue."

With a press of my finger, the tiny bots activated, their near-invisible forms dispersing into the night like specks of dust. They would map the area, analyze the people, and study the world itself.

Finally, I picked up Cube Part 3. "And this is the data repository?"

"Yes, it contains Earth's complete data archive up to August 14th, 2483."

I froze. "2483?"

I could only recall memories up to 2025.

"That's 458 years ahead of what I remember. But wait - why does it stop at 2483? Ran out of storage?"

"No, actually, there are still Zettabytes of empty space. 2483 is simply the last recorded entry from Earth. I can't access the specifics yet, but the data should be in there."

A pit formed in my stomach. What the hell happened?

Without delay, I pressed the activation button.

A flood of information rushed into my mind. My body jolted. My breath hitched.

Shock covered my face.

"The Earth was destroyed?"