One full month. That was how long it had taken—thirty grueling days of relentless production, sleepless nights, and quiet victories measured in exponential growth.
The swarm had multiplied beyond counting. The Mother AI now pulsed at the heart of the building like a living heartbeat.
And the first finished product rested in his small palm: a thin, transparent strip no larger than a band-aid, shimmering faintly under the lantern light.
He had chosen Lu Piao for this moment—the sharp-eyed young man from Thousand Herb’s Peak and the circle of trusted disciples who had followed him since the beginning.
They were the ones who understood loyalty and hungered for strength.
“Lu Piao,” Alex called, his voice steady and low.
The disciple stepped forward, robes whispering across the polished floor. Alex extended his hand, offering the small device.
“You will use this technology.”
Lu Piao took the strip between two fingers and turned it over, brow furrowed. “What is this?”
“It is artificial intelligence,” Alex explained, calm and precise, the way a teacher might introduce a new scripture. “It will guide you, teach you, and help you grow stronger than you ever imagined. It was made by Prussia.”
The words barely left his mouth before Lu Piao recoiled. He flung the device onto the table as if it had burned him.
“What Prussia?” he spat, face twisting with disgust. “This nasty thing… just touching it made me feel like I was betraying my Xia blood.”
A flicker of disappointment crossed Alex’s face, but he kept his expression neutral. He reached out, picked up the discarded strip with careful fingers, and laid it gently on the table.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “That was the wrong one. You should use this.”
From his spatial ring he drew out an identical band-aid, except this one carried a single elegant line etched along its edge: Made in Wudang.
Lu Piao’s eyes widened. He stared at the new device, then at Alex, shock rippling across his features. “What? It’s… made in Wudang? You created it?”
“Yes,” Alex answered simply.
“It is so cool, I felt proud with my Xia’s and Wudang’s blood.” A slow, eager grin spread across Lu Piao’s face. “Of course I’ll use it. Tell me how. This is incredible.”
Inside, Alex felt a cold sneer curl through his chest. All it took was a change of label. Swap “Prussia” for “Wudang,” and the same man who had thrown it away moments ago now reached for it like a sacred treasure.
The hypocrisy tasted bitter, but it also tasted like victory. He pushed the emotion down and kept his voice gentle.
“Just place it here,” Alex said, demonstrating on his own small neck, right below the ear. “Press it gently against the skin. It will do the rest.”
Lu Piao copied the motion exactly. The moment the strip touched his skin, it adhered seamlessly, becoming almost invisible. His eyes widened in shock. A soft gasp escaped him.
“What… I can hear a voice,” he whispered. “And I see colors—words, images—floating right in front of me.”
Alex nodded, a quiet pride warming his chest. “Yes. Just follow its guidance. You can learn anything from it—herbal lore, fighting techniques, cultivation methods, even the secret arts of the Shaolin monks. It never sleeps. It never tires. It will carry you forward.”
“It’s so cool,” Lu Piao breathed, awe lighting up his entire face.
Alex allowed himself a small smile. He reached into the ring again and lifted a plain wooden box. Inside lay dozens of identical Gaia strips, each one ready to awaken a new mind.
“Now,” he said, handing the box over, “you need to distribute these to every disciple at Thousand Herb’s Peak.”
Lu Piao took the box with both hands, reverence in his grip. “Yes, Sect Master.”
“And when that’s done,” Alex continued, voice firm and clear, “distribute them to every peak. To every disciple. To every servant and slave. Not one person left out. Can you do that for me?”
“Sure,” Lu Piao said, his voice ringing with absolute certainty. “If this is your command, Sect Master, who in all of Wudang would dare refuse?”
He bowed once, deep and respectful, then turned and strode from the hall with the wooden box cradled against his chest like a sacred relic.
Alex watched him turn and walk toward the door, the box cradled like something holy. For the first time in weeks, he felt the weight in his chest ease just a fraction.



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