Three weeks after the launch of ForgeShell Lite, the workshop buzzed with energy.
The cracked whiteboard had transformed into a roadmap of innovation. Hand-sketched diagrams, to-do lists, and strings of debugging notes filled every inch of space, organized into three tiers: short-term improvements, medium-term hardware goals, and long-term vision.
At the top, circled in red:ForgeOS 1.0 – Full-stack, Microkernel-Based, Modular, Secure, Ultra-Light.
Li Wei stared at it for a moment every morning, a silent reminder of why he couldn't afford to slow down.
The First Fork
ForgeShell Lite was gaining traction in their district. They'd sold nearly 80 licenses by the end of the month, earning close to $800.
Enough to buy:
A secondhand photolithography lamp for crude PCB etching.
Higher-purity copper and fiberglass sheets.
A vacuum seal box (rigged from a food sealer) for prepping simple layered boards.
But with growth came pressure.
"I'm getting emails," Yanyue said one night, scrolling through her old laptop. "Small computer clubs and tech bloggers are asking if we offer support. Some want to collaborate."
Li Wei leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple. "We can't scale yet. The core is still brittle."
"Then maybe it's time to fork," she said.
He turned to her. "Split the code?"
"Not permanently. Just enough to build a stable public release and a private dev branch for our internal systems."
He considered it. "Fine. Public gets v0.3. We keep working on 1.0 in secret."
Lan Jie nodded in agreement. "We'll need stricter code discipline. I'll manage the repo branches."
And with that, ForgeShell split into ForgeShell Public and ForgeCore Private — a decision that would protect their future.
Blueprint Fever
The profits allowed them to rent a tiny adjoining unit next to their workshop. They cleaned it, painted the walls, and turned it into what Li Wei proudly called the "Forge Lab."
It had:
A basic soldering station.
A tiny air-filtration hood.
Three worktables for prototyping.
They installed shelves filled with neatly labeled containers: resistors, caps, wire spools, stripped ICs, even broken laptop boards scavenged from junkyards.
Li Wei began designing BlueFire, their first custom logic module — not a CPU, but a signal controller that could run basic input/output routines and interface with peripherals.
"We build this right," he said, "and we'll have a reprogrammable logic chip, like early microcontrollers."
He sketched the blueprint by hand, down to the metal traces. It would only run at 1 MHz, but it would be theirs.
A Rival Emerges
On a rainy Friday, while the team was running test scripts on their first BlueFire prototype, Lan Jie's phone buzzed.
She frowned. "You should see this."
A university tech forum had just posted a flashy new topic:
'TurboOS' — A Blazing Fast OS by DragonTech Group. Faster than ForgeShell?'
Li Wei clicked through and saw screenshots of a shell GUI eerily similar to theirs. Minimalist design. Lightweight interface. Same file tree logic.
"They cloned our interface," Yanyue said, voice tight.
"But not the backend," Lan Jie added after inspecting the source snippets. "It's patched Linux. Top-heavy. No custom kernel."
Still, it looked polished—and it was attracting attention.
"They have more resources," Yanyue muttered. "DragonTech gets faculty funding and corporate internships. If they run with this…"
Li Wei didn't flinch.
"Then we run faster."
Strategic Upgrade
They pivoted fast. Li Wei reorganized their roadmap:
Finalize BlueFire for public use — build hype around hardware + software synergy.
Upgrade ForgeShell Lite's visual theme for easier UX adoption.
Prepare early documentation — make it easier for repair shops and schools to install, teach, and maintain.
"We go grassroots," Li Wei explained. "DragonTech can show off to professors. We show results in real places."
To that end, they visited three vocational schools. Only one gave them a demo slot, but it was enough.
Li Wei stood before a class of confused high schoolers, explaining how ForgeShell ran on outdated hardware their school had written off.
He ran a 2008 netbook with 2GB RAM. ForgeShell booted in six seconds. Chrome opened in eight.
The teacher nodded. "Can we get this setup on twenty other machines?"
"We'll install it for free," Li Wei said. "All we ask is that you let us add your name to our pilot network."
The teacher smiled. "Done."
Crack in the Shell
That night, they were back in the lab debugging BlueFire's second iteration when Li Wei noticed something strange.
A process running in the background of ForgeShell Public was triggering unexpected I/O spikes.
"Wait... this isn't one of our scripts."
He traced the source to a third-party plugin a user had installed. It was quietly mining user data and transmitting it via hidden ports.
"Someone's tampering with our image."
They immediately patched it, released a warning online, and added checksum verification for all future builds.
"Welcome to the real world," Yanyue muttered.
But Li Wei wasn't discouraged. If anything, he looked more alive than ever.
"They can clone our surface. But they can't clone our soul."