The night air rushed past them, cool and sharp against their faces. The motorcycle's headlight cut a lonely beam through the darkness of the rural roads surrounding the city. David steered the bike, leaning into the curves, while George held on from behind, the hum of the engine vibrating through both of them.
Their family lived just far enough from the city limits that a simple shopping trip felt like a tactical supply run. Tonight, however, the mission was specific. They weren't just buying groceries; they were here to buy more food.
David's mind was already back in the workshop. He needed to escape the "biological tax." Powering the watch with his own metabolic energy meant eating enough for four people, a gluttonous torture he couldn't sustain. He needed an external power source. He needed a direct line to the AC grid.
"Brother," George shouted over the wind, leaning closer. "You know, one of my friend's sisters was asking about you."
David rolled his eyes, thankful the darkness hid his expression. 'Don't tell me I have a secret admirer.'
"Oh?" David kept his voice flat, feigning disinterest. "Who is she?"
"I forgot her name," George yelled back, and David could practically hear the smirk in his voice. "I'll ask later. Then I'll tell you."
The kid was playing him. David decided to drop a tactical nuke of his own.
"Georgutty, I forgot to mention," David said, raising his voice just enough to be heard. "I'm already committed. There's a girl in Hyderabad."
He felt George stiffen behind him. For a moment, the wind was the only sound.
George had never heard his stoic older brother mention a girl, let alone a commitment. The shock kept George silent for the rest of the ride.
Back in their room, the haul was spread out on the table: copper wires, and small packets of gold and silver dust purchased from a jeweler.
"Niya," David commanded, his voice steady. "Schematics for the AC adapter. Highlight material requirements."
"George, bring the food closer," David said, pulling up a chair. "Watch closely. I'm about to show you magic."
———
David had already forced down a massive meal — fuel for the initial startup. He felt heavy and sluggish, but his mind was sharp. He tapped the glass face of the watch.
The lid opened with a mechanical 'tik' sound. Slowly, David began feeding the device. He poured small amounts of gold and silver dust into the top aperture. The watch didn't just accept the materials; it inhaled them.
Inside the casing, a microscopic world came alive. Tiny robotic arms, visible only if one squinted, moved with blurring speed. It looked like a colony of metallic ants dismantling a mountain. Materials vanished into the intake, and from the side vents, new components began to emerge — interlocking parts that fit together with the precision of Lego bricks, but on a nano-scale.
Zzzzt. Hiss.
The faint sound of micro-welding filled the silent room. It was a full-scale industrial factory shrunk down to the size of a chicken egg.
Two hours later, the pile of raw parts was complete.
"David," Niya's synthetic soft voice chimed. "Production complete. I require fine motor control for assembly. Requesting permission to access your right hand."
George's eyes went wide. "What? The watch can drive your hand? Oh man, that is wicked." Then, a look of concern crossed his face.
David looked at his own hand, then at the Hyderabad skyline on his wall calendar. I need to get back there fast. Risks are necessary.
"Permission granted, Niya."
Immediately, David felt a strange tingling sensation run from his wrist to his shoulder. His muscles twitched, no longer obeying his brain, but following the digital commands of the AI. His hand shot forward, snatching up components with robotic jerkiness. It moved like a plotter drawing a complex diagram — precise, mechanical, inhuman.
Within seconds, a power supply adapter lay assembled on the table. A wire trailed from it, connecting directly to the watch.
"Safety protocol," Niya stated. "If you experience physical discomfort during power intake, sever the connection immediately."
"Very thoughtful," David muttered, wiping sweat from his forehead. He was terrified. One surge, one short circuit, and he'd be cooked from the inside out.
George reached for the switch. "Let's light it up!"
"Wait!" David snapped. "Let's just... pray nothing blows up first."
George didn't wait. He flipped the switch.
David squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the shock. The hum of electricity filled the room. He waited for the pain.
Nothing.
He opened one eye. The watch face was glowing a steady, healthy blue white.
"Niya, status?"
"Energy supply stable. Sufficient for continuous heavy operations."
"Yes!" George pumped a fist in the air.
David exhaled, his shoulders sagging with relief. Now, he could really work. "Okay, Niya. Let's test the production speed. We're not limited by my stomach anymore."
George was already vibrating with excitement. "Drones! Show me the drones!"
A hologram projected upward from the watch, bathing the dim room in blue light. Rotating 3D models of UAVs floated in the air — sleek stealth bombers, quadcopters, even missile-carrying predators.
"Niya, filter results," David ordered. "Small scale. Long duration flight. Extended range."
Two models zoomed into focus. One resembled a mechanical dragonfly, elegant and fragile. The other looked like a micro-helicopter with a sensory disk on top.
George made a face. "Boring. Niya, show me fast. High maneuverability. Good camera. Something that looks... cool."
"Affirmative, George."
The projection shifted. A new set of drones appeared — sleek, rocket-shaped cylinders with aggressive fins and recessed rotors.
"That one." George pointed, his eyes sparkling. He turned to David, unleashing the ultimate weapon: the puppy-dog stare. He bit his lip, widening his eyes. It was a look David hadn't seen since they were kids.
David sighed, defeated. "Fine. It's a rocket drone. Niya, specs?"
"Rocket configuration. Centralized battery core, quad-directional internal rotors. Differential thrust for rapid cornering. High-speed recording capable. Fabrication time: two hours per unit."
"Two hours?" George did the math instantly. "What about three of them?"
"Three hours."
"Four?"
"Three hours, thirty minutes."
David glanced at the clock. It was already past midnight. "George, it'll be dawn by the time we finish. One is enough."
"Please?" The puppy eyes returned, stronger than before.
David groaned. He was never going to win this. "Fine. Show the materials. Niya, let's start the furnace and cook it."
The night dissolved into a blur of heat and metal. George meticulously fed scrap metal and minerals into the watch, while Niya cooked them into advanced circuitry.
David sat in the chair near the power outlet, his right arm outstretched and stiff, twitching occasionally as Niya used it for micro-adjustments. Eventually, exhaustion took him. He drifted into a restless sleep, anchored by the gold wire and the hum of the machine.
"Brother... Brother."
The whisper dragged David back to consciousness. He blinked, his neck stiff.
"What? What time is it?"
"It is 5:05 AM. Good morning, David," Niya replied instantly.
"Five?" David sat up straight, the cable falling from his arm. "How many did we make?"
"Shhh," George whispered, glancing at the door. "I only made three of the rocket ones for me." He paused, looking sheepish. "But... I saw you looking at the dragonfly model earlier. So I made that one too."
David's irritation vanished. He rubbed his eyes, looking around the table. Scattered parts lay everywhere. "Where are they?"
"Not assembled yet. Just the parts."
David stretched his arms, hearing his joints pop. "Niya, assist with assembly."
The morning sun was just beginning to bleed through the curtains as they worked. With Niya's guidance, the parts clicked together with satisfying snaps. Within minutes, four sleek machines sat on the table.
"Batteries charged. Calibration complete," Niya announced. "Control range: 500 meters."
"And the app?" George asked, bouncing on his toes.
"Link sent to your devices. Ready for download."
David looked at the drones, then at the supercomputer strapped to his wrist. He grinned. "Okay. Let's fly some drones"