The conveyor belt glided smoothly beneath their feet, its joints clicking as wheels rolled across the seams, merging with the distant roar of machines. The whole place breathed the raw, unpolished vibe unique to 1950s industrial civilization. Professor von Neumann walked at the front, hands behind his back, his silhouette stretching and shrinking beneath flickering overhead lamps. Jax and Yuna trailed close behind, their eyes drawn to the glowing energy streaks weaving along the path.

  “In this world, you really can create with your mind. But you only have so much to give.”

  His voice cut through the background noise, seasoned and calm.

  “Every time I make something from nothing, it takes a toll. It’s like a battery—once it’s drained, I need a long rest. If I had to build everything alone here, it’d be too slow, and a waste of my creative energy. The big vision should be mine; the details should go to a machine. So, of course, I went back to my roots—building a computer to share the burden.”

  Yuna cocked her head, blue light flickering in her eyes as she scanned the energy field. “History says EDVAC ran on vacuum tubes and diodes. But I’m not picking up any diode heat signatures here.”

  Von Neumann stopped and turned, a sly, proud glint in his eyes. He snapped his fingers crisply in midair.

  Instantly, a translucent crystal cube appeared, floating above his fingertips. It gave off a cool, blue Cherenkov glow, the edges knife-sharp, energy swirling inside like a mathematical jewel from the future.

  “Diodes? We only used those because we were stuck with what we had. Metals, tubes, wires—limitations everywhere. Here, using pure energy, I don’t have to play by those rules. So I made something better.”

  With a flick, the crystal expanded until a glowing number '1' pulsed at its core.

  “I call it a Nest. Each one holds just one state at a time—zero or one. It’s based on the same on-off principle as diodes.”

  Jax leaned in, blue light on his face. “Looks fancy, but isn’t it just a diode in a shiny new shell?”

  “Not even close. Diodes lose power in wires, overheat, break down, and are a pain to maintain.”

  He tapped the Nest, blue ripples fanning out. “Three things make it better. First, it draws energy from its surroundings—no wires. Each is self-powered. Second, zero loss—no resistance, no heat, no wear. As long as there’s a frequency in the air, it runs forever. Third, it’s tiny—just an inch across. I’m making smaller ones next.”

  Jax lit up, almost stumbling. “That’s the ultimate combo of wireless charging and superconductors! And it runs on air! You’re a genius, Professor—way ahead of your time!”

  “Wireless charging, huh?” The professor mulled over the term, raising an eyebrow. “What a vivid way to put it! Seems future humans are not just good at coining concepts—you’ve got a knack for naming things too. Haha!”

  “So how many did you make?” Jax pressed on eagerly.

  His expression softened, his voice drifting into memory. “At first it was easy. A snap made one. But after five thousand, my mind blurred, my arms felt like lead. I forced myself to make 12,000—the number of diodes in the real EDVAC—then blacked out. I probably slept a whole year.”

  “You recharge by sleeping? Like plugging in a phone overnight?” Jax chimed in immediately.

  “What’s a phone? Another fancy new term?” The professor raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

  “It’s a portable device from my time—sends messages via radio waves, runs programs, but needs a battery. Practically everyone has one. The battery dies in a day, so people charge it before bed and wake up to a full tank.” Jax explained concisely.

  “Ah, I get it. Yes—sleep is my ‘recharging process’.”

  He continued, “When I woke up, I sorted those 12,000 Nests into compute, control, storage, input, and output modules. That’s EDVAC’s form here—the Thousand-Nest Array.”

  “The moment I powered it up, something amazing happened.” He spread his arms, as if embracing the void of that memory. “Zeros and ones started drifting out of the air, floating randomly—until they neared the Array. Then, like bees drawn to nectar or moths to light, they swarmed the Nests, settling into the empty slots and staying put.”

  “That’s Computational Gravity,” Yuna said, data streaming rapidly in her eyes, her tone precise and certain. “The Nest creates a high-density stable resonant field. Free 0s and 1s are naturally drawn to it and stabilized by resonant affinity.”

  The professor nodded approvingly at her. “Computational Gravity—another odd name, but it actually makes perfect sense. Here I am, a Princeton professor, and I feel like such a novice. Haha!”

  “Later, I tried giving it a command: ‘Build a shelter’.” The professor’s voice held a hint of pride. “The code in the Nests worked like tireless craftsmen, reorganizing in nanoseconds. In the blink of an eye, a complete cabin appeared—bed, desk, chimney, even firewood in the fireplace—all perfectly replicated.”

  Jax stared in awe, then burst out laughing. “Text-to-World! That’s the ultimate goal of generative AI in my era—say a word and make something real. It’s incredible!”

  Von Neumann blinked, then smiled, a touch of satisfaction in his tone. “Looks like humans have been carrying forward my imagination all this time. Sometime, you must tell me how far the computer world has come in your day.”

  At that, the conveyor belt hissed and slowed to a stop.

  Massive industrial iron doors stood ahead, exuding a retro yet imposing aura.

  The professor gestured with his hand, his tone solemn: “We’re here. Welcome to the Factory—where every Nest in this world is born.”

  The doors rumbled open, and waves of mechanical noise washed over them.

  They entered—not into a cramped workshop, but onto an open elevator. Slowly, it carried them up to a curved observation walkway suspended in mid-air.

  Jax couldn’t help but gasp as he looked around. This was no ordinary rectangular factory, but a vast domed structure. Topped with a split circular skylight—closed, it blocks external energy fluctuations; open, it synchronizes with spatial resonance signals. Looking down from the walkway, the skylight hovered above a central circular hub, surrounded by four concentric assembly lines. The entire factory was grand and orderly, with an extremely high level of automation. The grit of vintage machinery intertwined with ethereal energy glows, exuding an enchanting retro-futuristic charm.

  “Let me show you around first,” the professor said, pointing to the center of the factory. “That’s the dispatch area.”

  Jax followed his gaze and his eyes widened instantly. On the huge circular platform at the factory’s core rested a massive silver disc-shaped craft! Its sleek lines were straight out of a 1950s sci-fi magazine cover, like the legendary UFO. At that moment, the steel giant was greedily swallowing up the glowing blue blocks—freshly made Nests—constantly conveyed to it by the surrounding belts through four large openings in its underbelly.

  “That’s a Roswell-class Heavy Transport,” the professor said, glancing at Jax and winking like a mischievous child. “So, 2026—did you guys finally catch the aliens piloting these UFOs? Back when we were doing research in the Nevada desert, we joked about them all the time.”

  Jax shrugged, half-smiling in embarrassment. “Aliens these days only exist as pixels in short videos. I’ve never seen a real one.”

  “Haha, maybe you just don’t have clearance for top-secret information.” The professor raised an eyebrow and continued his introduction. “See that ring around the UFO? That’s the storage area.”

  Ten-meter-tall circular racks stood firmly, with dormant Nests neatly stacked on each shelf, their faint blue glow flickering like a luminous library. Countless robotic arms glided smoothly along rails, their movements precise to an astonishing degree, grabbing Nests from the conveyor belts and stacking them on the racks without the slightest error.

  Beyond the storage area, three parallel conveyor belts circled outward. Every two meters, a black obelisk-like machine stood tall. Their nozzles vibrated at a frequency invisible to the naked eye, spitting out thin streams of high-energy particles. Brand-new Nests continuously took shape in the glow before sliding onto the conveyor belts automatically.

  Jax pointed at the machines, his eyes brimming with curiosity. “These are the Nest-building machines, right? How do they work?”

  The professor wore a proud smile. “That’s another of my key inventions—the Layered Manufacturing Printer. Its surface is also covered with an energy-absorbing film, drawing power directly from the environment. In this world, energy is both fuel and raw material. Inside the printer is an energy extruder that ‘layers’ the Nest into shape, like squeezing cream—with pinpoint accuracy.”

  Jax’s eyes lit up again, and he blurted out: “That’s basically a futuristic 3D printer!”

  “3D printing…” The professor repeated the term softly, his eyes filled with approval. “That name’s way more concise and punchy than ‘layered manufacturing’! Is this a popular technology in your era?”

  The three walked slowly along the walkway, the factory below them operating tirelessly amid shifting light and shadow, like a precision clock.

  At the end of the walkway was a closed frosted glass door, starkly different from the noisy industrial environment outside, exuding a hint of mystery.

  The professor approached the door, which slid open silently to both sides. He turned around, straightened his slightly worn suit and tie, and smiled gently at the two, regaining his gentlemanly demeanor. “This is my laboratory. All my wild ideas and unfinished blueprints are hidden here. Let’s go inside to continue our conversation, guests.”