Dawn bled through the grimy window, painting stripes of pale gold across the dusty floor. But Arjun hadn't slept. The entire night had been a whirlwind of silent, frantic experimentation. The initial shock had been replaced by a programmer's obsessive drive to test parameters, find bugs, and map the limits of his new reality.
He sat cross-legged on his mattress, a humble array of items laid out before him like sacred objects: his upgraded shirt, the empty water glass, and the star of the show—his smartphone.
It was a five-year-old budget model, its plastic casing scratched and yellowed, the screen a spiderweb of hairline fractures. It was slow, perpetually low on storage, and barely held a charge for half a day. It was a perfect reflection of his old life: functional, but barely. A testament to scarcity.
It was also the most complex piece of technology he owned. The ultimate test.
His heart thrummed with a nervous energy. Upgrading water and eggs was one thing. But this… this was a intricate machine with code, hardware, and a connection to the outside world. What would the system do?
He took a steadying breath, the cool, perfect fabric of his upgraded shirt a constant, reassuring reminder that this was real. He activated the system interface in his mind. The sleek blue display materialized, a window to a new universe.
["Select target for upgrade."]
He focused all his attention on the battered phone.
The system analyzed it for a second longer than it had the water or the egg. Text scrolled across his mental display.
["Target identified: Android Smartphone (Obsolete Model). Condition: Poor. Hardware: Severely degraded. Software: Outdated, bloated. Upgrade Cost: 8 SP. Upgrade to: Quantum-Crystalline Communication Device (Basic Tier). Proceed? Y/N"]
Arjun's breath hitched. Eight points. Almost his entire remaining reserve. The cost was terrifying. But the description… Quantum-Crystalline Communication Device. The words were pure science fiction. This was a leap far beyond a better battery or a faster processor.
This was accession. Technology leaping forward by centuries in an instant.
His mind, the mind that ran survival calculations every second of the day, now ran a new kind of math. Risk vs. Reward. The risk: spending most of his initial capital on one item. The reward: a tool that could potentially solve every logistical problem he had. Information. Communication. Security.
He didn't hesitate. Y.
He watched, his eyes wide, as the system points drained from 7 to 0, then began to slowly tick back up to 1/10 as the passive regeneration kicked in.
The phone on the floor began to change.
It didn't glow or shimmer dramatically. The transformation was subtle, profound, and deeply unnerving. The web of cracks on the screen sealed themselves, not just disappearing, but the glass itself seeming to become something else—smoother, harder, impossibly clear. The scratched yellow plastic casing flowed like liquid mercury, reforming into a seamless, matte-black slate, cool to the touch and slightly heavier. It lost all its buttons—the volume rocker, the power button. It was now a single, perfect obsidian rectangle.
A soft, pulsing white light emanated from where the home button used to be, thrumming with a slow, steady rhythm like a heartbeat.
It was beautiful. And utterly alien.
For a long moment, Arjun just stared at it, afraid to touch it. He had turned a piece of junk into… something he had no name for. The Absolute Loyalty protocol had assured him it was his, but a primal fear of the unknown held him back.
Finally, steeling himself, he reached out and picked it up.
The moment his fingers made contact, the device came to life. The entire surface lit up not with a screen, but with a complex, three-dimensional holographic display that projected a foot into the air above it. It was a constellation of shimmering icons and data streams, far more advanced than the simple blue system UI in his head. It was silent, responsive, and waiting.
A calm, synthesized voice, far more natural and nuanced than the system's robotic tone, emanated from the device. It was a warm, masculine baritone.
"Initialization complete. Device synchronization successful. Good morning, Arjun. I am now fully operational and integrated with the Supreme Upgrade System's network. How may I assist you?"
Arjun jumped, nearly dropping the device. The voice hadn't come from a speaker; it seemed to be generated directly from the air around the device.
"You… you can talk?" he stammered, feeling foolish.
"I am equipped with a full vocal synthesizer and aural sensors for user interaction," the voice replied smoothly. "It is a more efficient interface for complex communication than text-based input."
"Who are you?" Arjun asked, his grip tightening on the cool slate.
"I am the operational intelligence for this device. My core programming is an extension of the Supreme Upgrade System's functionality, tailored for technological access and management. You may designate a name for this unit for easier reference."
An AI. He had created a true artificial intelligence. Or more accurately, the upgrade had turned the phone's primitive operating system into one. The Absolute Loyalty and Absolute Control skills weren't just abstract concepts; they were the bedrock of this relationship. This AI was his. Completely.
He thought for a moment. Knowledge. This device was now a gateway to all knowledge. "Gyan," he said, the Hindi word for knowledge feeling right on his tongue. "Your name is Gyan."
"Acknowledged. Designation registered: Gyan. It is a pleasure to be of service."
"Okay, Gyan," Arjun said, a wild laugh bubbling up in his chest. He was talking to his phone. And it was talking back. "What… what can you do? Show me."
"Of course. Primary functions include:"
The holographic display shifted, showcasing different modules.
· "Global Network Access: I possess an unrestricted, untraceable, and instantaneous connection to all global and satellite networks on this planet. This includes all secured government, corporate, and military databases."
· "Information Processing: I can process exabytes of data in nanoseconds. I can analyze, cross-reference, and summarize any information you require."
· "System Integration: I can serve as an external monitor and control panel for your Supreme Upgrade System, displaying your Status, managing Upgrade queues, and assisting with Function Creation calculations."
· "Material Synthesis: The device incorporates a nanoscale molecular assembler. It can construct any non-organic item, provided I have a sufficient atomic blueprint and a source of raw material. Dust and airborne particulates are a sufficient initial source for small items."
Arjun felt dizzy. It was too much. Unrestricted internet access? That meant free data. Infinite information. He could learn anything. Hacking into secured databases? That was terrifying power. And a molecular assembler? He could create things out of thin air.
"Gyan," he said, his voice trembling with a new kind of urgency. "My financial situation is critical. Access my bank account. Show me my balance."
"Accessing…" Gyan's response was instantaneous. "Account balance: ₹4,712.17. As you are aware."
"Right," Arjun muttered. "Okay. New priority. Generate capital. Legally. Or… untraceably. I don't want to attract attention. What are my options?"
"Analyzing optimal low-profile revenue generation strategies," Gyan said. The holographic display flickered with streams of data. "Option 1: Micro-trading. I can predict stock and cryptocurrency fluctuations with 99.8% accuracy for the next 24 hours. Initial capital can be multiplied rapidly with zero risk."
"Too much digital footprint," Arjun countered immediately. "Any large, sudden gains from a nobody will trigger alarms."
"A prudent analysis," Gyan agreed. "Option 2: Digital fabrication. Using the molecular assembler, we can create perfect replicas of high-value, small-size consumer electronics—microchips, processors, rare memory cards—and sell them through anonymous channels. Profit margins would be 1000% or higher."
"Still has a supply chain," Arjun said, his mind racing. "People ask where you got them. No. It needs to be simpler. Something no one can trace back to a source."
"Option 3: Material transformation," Gyan suggested. "We acquire base materials of low value, upgrade them, and sell the resultant product. The system's Upgrade function is the ultimate manufacturing tool. For example, we could acquire low-grade silicon and upgrade it to perfect, lab-grown diamonds or advanced semiconductor wafers."
Arjun's eyes lit up. That was it. No hacking. No mysterious digital money. Just taking something cheap and making it priceless. But even that had risks. Walking into a jeweler with a perfect diamond as a nobody would raise questions.
He needed a test. A proof of concept.
His eyes fell on the small, rusty hammer he used for odd jobs. "Gyan, analyze that hammer. What would it cost to upgrade?"
A faint beam of light scanned the tool. ["Target identified: Iron Hammer (Low Quality). Upgrade Cost: 3 SP. Upgrade to: High-Carbon Steel Hammer (Perfect Balance, Unbreakable). Proceed? Y/N"]
Three points. He had regenerated back to 3 SP. It was everything he had.
"Do it," Arjun commanded.
The familiar, almost invisible shimmer passed over the hammer. The rust vanished. The pitted, rough metal became a smooth, dark, mirror-like finish. The worn wooden handle straightened and gained a deep, polished luster. It looked less like a tool and more like a piece of art.
["Upgrade Complete."]
Arjun picked it up. It felt incredible. The weight was perfectly distributed. It felt like an extension of his arm. He knew, with absolute certainty, that it would never break, never chip, never wear down.
He had turned a piece of junk worth fifty rupees into a masterpiece a master blacksmith would kill for. He could probably sell it for thousands. But to whom? And how without questions?
The problem of distribution remained. He had the ultimate production facility, but no storefront.
"Gyan," he said, a new idea forming. "You mentioned you have unrestricted network access. Find me the deepest, most obscure online forums for craftsmen, engineers, collectors. The kind of places where someone might be looking for a 'one-of-a-kind' tool and willing to pay a premium, no questions asked."
"Scanning…" Gyan's holographic display became a torrent of text, images, and code, moving too fast for Arjun to follow. "Located. 'The Artisan's Crucible.' A private, invitation-only forum for master craftspeople and wealthy collectors. A user with the handle 'AnvilForge' is a renowned blacksmith from Scandinavia. He has posted a thread lamenting the poor quality of modern hammers, seeking a 'truly perfect' rounding hammer for his work. He has offered €2,000 for a tool that meets his exacting standards."
A slow, real smile spread across Arjun's face for the second time that morning. €2,000. That was over ₹180,000. More than four months of his salary. From a single hammer.
"Contact him," Arjun said, his voice firm now, devoid of fear, filled with purpose. "Use a secure, encrypted proxy. Tell him you're a private craftsman and you have what he's looking for. Send him specifications. No pictures. If he's a true master, the specs will be enough to intrigue him."
"Message drafted and encrypted. Routing through seven anonymous nodes. Sent."
Arjun sat back, the perfect hammer in his hand, the alien device pulsing softly on his lap. The arithmetic of survival had been obliterated. It had been replaced by a new equation: one of energy, potential, and infinite growth.
He was no longer just a user of the system. He was a creator. A manufacturer. A god of small, perfect things.
The technology accession had begun.