Your Name

Half-asleep, Tang Chuan fantasized for the umpteenth time about returning to his hometown and reuniting with his loved ones.

But the vague information in his mind always pulled him back to reality.

The gist was that only by providing precise spatial coordinates of a sub-universe could he be teleported back.

Even a Fantasy Weapon had to follow certain logic—at the very least, Tang Chuan needed to construct a rough prototype of a fantasy concept in his mind before he could complete the transformation from nothing to something.

And fundamentally, a Fantasy Weapon not only had a theoretical upper limit but also had to conform to the laws of the Main Universe.

If Tang Chuan didn't have a relatively clear train of thought, knowing the approximate coordinates of his hometown, it would be difficult to trigger the "Fantasy Attribute" and manifest a spacetime teleportation device to achieve a fixed-point jump across time and space.

A wet sensation at his neck jolted the half-asleep Tang Chuan awake.

Turning his head, he saw the Little Tentacle tentatively touching him, like a cat or dog that sensed its owner's bad mood and was trying to soothe it.

If it weren't for the fact that "Chiliu" looked utterly inhuman, Tang Chuan might have thought it was a companion pet even more attuned to human emotions than a golden retriever.

Chiliu—that was the name Tang Chuan had given the Little Tentacle over the past few dozen hours, and it fit quite aptly.

Tang Chuan sat up from the beanbag chair and said, "Chiliu, go play somewhere else. Can't even talk, and you're this ugly to boot. What use are you?"

Chiliu was the contact method Meatball had left behind, but so far, Tang Chuan hadn't figured out any "communication" attribute on it.

For now, he could only treat it as a bizarre pet.

And the faint sensation in his mind also told Tang Chuan that the true form of a Supreme God could not be casually probed—this was a bottom line for Supreme Gods, one that even their own kind couldn't cross.

So Tang Chuan didn't worry that Chiliu would relay his situation to Meatball, making him suspicious of his identity.

Over this period, he had openly revealed his mental journey, from the emptiness of extreme disorientation to the forced restraint of rationality.

Seeing that Tang Chuan was no longer muttering his sorrows in his sleep, Chiliu tactfully left his side to explore the limited space around it.

It acted just like a dog with boundless curiosity.

Tang Chuan let out another long sigh, staring somewhat bitterly out the cabin window at the unchanging yet ever-shifting brilliant starscape.

During this time, he had woken up twice. Though it was hard to gauge the passage of time in the deep void of space, he could tell by instinct that he had been drifting through the cosmos for at least forty-eight hours.

Based on his shallow knowledge and understanding, Tang Chuan had formed a vague guess about his current situation.

He must have, at some unknown point and without any awareness, inexplicably received the inheritance of the God of Calamity and Terror.

And the black crystal in his mind was the "Supreme God Core" of the Calamity Supreme God.

Sealed within the Supreme God Core were the memories originally belonging to the Calamity Supreme God.

Because that vast ocean of memories, like a river of stars, was far beyond what his meager brain capacity could handle.

Thus, the Calamity Supreme God's memories were stored away in the Supreme God Core, only surfacing in flashes when he thought of something specific.

This also explained why Tang Chuan would occasionally have ideas he'd never known before, and why he understood high-dimensional syllables, allowing seamless communication with Supreme Gods.

But his main consciousness had been a mortal for twenty-three years, with a near-blank understanding of the universe and all things, making it hard to trigger the memories useful to him.

For instance, right now, Tang Chuan wanted to return to his hometown. The sealed memories in his mind vaguely and hazily told him there were at least tens of millions of ways to easily get himself back.

But what those methods were—because the conceptual scope of "wanting to return home" was far too broad—

couldn't guide the depths of his memory to produce a clear solution to this exact problem.

This left Tang Chuan feeling frustrated and helpless.

But still...

Could I use the Fantasy Weapon to gradually build a path toward my goal of going home?

The Fantasy Weapon was the only thing Tang Chuan had to rely on now, aside from Meatball behind Chiliu.

Maybe asking it to teleport him back out of thin air was really pushing it.

But if I made good use of such a powerful thing, it might become a bridge back to my hometown—or at least part of one.

Artificial Intelligence!

With his shallow thinking, Tang Chuan latched onto this concept first.

High-tech creations in sci-fi movies usually had their own AI, and although AI was created by humans, it could help humans accomplish what mortal brains couldn't!

As soon as this vague idea formed in his mind, it triggered the Fantasy Attribute tied to him.

After confirming his intent, Tang Chuan could sense that a tiny portion of the Fantasy Attribute was consumed, and a Blue Orb materialized in front of the Shuttle's main console.

The orb bloomed like a flower bud, and from within stepped a blurry Blue Humanoid Light.

He refined the details of the humanoid light in his mind, and eventually, a tall, classical Germanic-faced long-haired woman, nearly solid like a blue energy entity, took shape.

The classical beauty smiled at Tang Chuan and said, "Master, please give me a name."

Tang Chuan knew this was the AI projection he had evolved by consuming the Fantasy Attribute based on his own logic!

This AI projection would, over time in contact with him, continuously refine its behavioral logic to adapt to his thoughts and become his capable assistant.

And because it was conceived from his life experiences, it came with modes of expression he was accustomed to—like his hometown's decimal system, or human-specific embellishments like idioms and poetry.

At this moment, Tang Chuan felt as if he'd seen a glimmer of dawn, finally stirring a hint of excitement, and said, "Quintessa! Your name, from this moment onward, until I am buried among the stars, shall remain constant and unchanging—Quintessa!"

Quintessa tilted her head, her wavy hair cascading like a waterfall, poised and elegant. "Very well, Master. Quintessa shall be my eternal and unchanging name. However, if you are buried among the stars, I too will cease to exist."

Tang Chuan nodded and tested the waters. "Quintessa, scan and tell me how long I've been in the Main Universe."

In the blink of an eye.

Quintessa glanced at Tang Chuan, furrowing her brow. "Based on the sensory feedback and physical condition you've transmitted, calculated from the start at the Main God Hall, you have been in the Main Universe for a full seventy-eight hours. Your endocrine system is out of balance, and you are in a state of severe sub-health. You... should meet with humans. Interacting with your own kind might fundamentally help regulate your current decadent mindset and physical state."