Years bled into one another, marked by the slow, steady hum of the Codex processing data, and Adav's meticulous observation. He grew, physically, into a lean, almost unnaturally calm boy. His eyes, though still a child's, held a depth of knowledge that unnerved even his parents at times. He rarely spoke, preferring to listen, to analyze. He was a silent, calculating presence in the bustling merchant household.
By the time he was ten, in 1909, Adav felt he had a comprehensive enough model of the 1904-1909 world within the Codex. He understood the family business, its strengths and, more importantly, its glaring weaknesses. Their textile and dye business relied on traditional methods, producing good but not exceptional products, easily outcompeted by British imports.
His father, Ramnath, was a cautious man, content with steady profits. But Adav saw the future, and it was not in steady. It was in exponential.
The opportunity came during a particularly bad harvest of natural indigo, driving up prices and squeezing their margins. Ramnath was fretting, pacing the main room, muttering about dwindling profits.
Adav, seated quietly in a corner, watching his father, finally spoke. His voice, usually soft, was clear and surprisingly firm. "Father," he said, "there is a better way to make indigo. A cheaper way. A more vibrant way."
Ramnath stopped pacing, turning to his son with a bewildered expression. "What nonsense is this, Adav? Do you think dyes grow on trees that you simply pluck the best ones?"
"No, Father," Adav replied, standing. "But they grow in test tubes. In a laboratory."
He walked over to a small slate he used for his rudimentary studies, picked up a piece of chalk, and began to draw. Not fanciful images, but precise chemical diagrams. He had spent months, using the Codex's [Technological Blueprint] module, adapting his 21st-century knowledge of synthetic indigo dye processes to the limited chemical understanding and materials of the early 20th century. It wasn't the most advanced method, but it was light-years ahead of anything available in India at the time. He drew the molecular structure, the catalysts needed, the heating and cooling processes. He even outlined a basic, custom-built apparatus that could be constructed locally.
Ramnath stared at the slate, then at his son, his mouth agape. The drawings were intricate, precise, utterly beyond the comprehension of a ten-year-old. He picked up the slate, his fingers tracing the strange symbols.
"Where... where did you learn this, son?" Ramnath's voice was a whisper, laced with a mix of awe and fear.
Adav looked at his father, his calm gaze unwavering. "I dreamt it, Father. A very clear dream. A vision of how to make our family prosperous, how to make our dyes so bright they would blind the British." He knew the last part would appeal to his father's quiet, simmering patriotism.
Ramnath, a devout man, believed in omens and divine intervention. A dream, a vision from a child so often quiet and thoughtful, made sense to him in a way a scientific explanation never would. He saw not just a formula, but a sign.
He spent the next few weeks secretly commissioning a local goldsmith, under Adav's precise instructions, to build the rudimentary equipment. Then, in the privacy of a converted storeroom, under Adav's calm guidance, they began. The first batch was a messy, pungent failure. The second, a murky disappointment. But by the fifth, a brilliant, almost otherworldly blue liquid bubbled in the vat, staining the air with its potent aroma.
The new synthetic indigo dye was cheaper to produce, incredibly vibrant, and remarkably colorfast. When Ramnath showed samples to his established buyers, their eyes widened. The demand was instant, overwhelming. The family's wealth began to multiply, not steadily, but explosively. Adav had secured his first seed capital, and more importantly, his father's complete, almost fearful, trust. Ramnath now believed his son was blessed, touched by something ancient and powerful. He would let Adav act independently, guiding him with a trust born of fear and prosperity. The seed of an empire had been planted.