A Star Among the Ruins

The wind howled through the skeletal remains of starships, carrying the scent of rust and scorched metal. Karvess' twin moons hung low in the evening sky, casting a pale glow over the endless sea of scrap. Grant pulled his coat tighter around his shoulders, perched on the side of an old thruster casing, and squinted at the blinking display in front of him.

-System activated-Hello, user. I am the Star Navigator System. I am at your service.

The voice was crisp, mechanical, yet smooth—like something straight out of a high-end Imperial starship. Grant blinked, his pulse hammering.

"What...?" he whispered.

This wreck, this broken cockpit he had been prying open for parts, shouldn't have been working at all. He had spent years stripping down old ships, selling their guts for enough rations to last another week. And never—not once—had he found anything like this.

He hesitated, glancing around to make sure he was alone. The scrap fields were dangerous, and if anyone else found out what he had, they'd kill him for it.

"...You're a ship AI, right?" Grant finally said. "How are you still operational?"

This unit is the Star Navigator System, an integrated celestial guidance and tactical support interface. My activation sequence was delayed due to severe system damage. Repairs are at 2%. Core functions online.

Star Navigator. Grant had heard rumors. Legends, really. The old Pre-Imperial ships were said to have navigation AIs that could think, predict, and even fight. If this was real… if this AI was what he thought it was…

He swallowed.

"Do you have a ship?" he asked, breathless. "Like, an actual working one?"

Negative. My original vessel has been destroyed. However, I can integrate with compatible systems. Locating potential candidates...

Grant exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. "Great. So you're a ghost without a body."

Still, even a broken AI like this was valuable—maybe even worth enough to get him off this dust ball. The Academy. The Imperial Fleet. Maybe even…

He grinned.

"Maybe I can get into the Academy with this," he mused. Then, as the idea grew in his mind, his grin widened. "Or even… create an army!"

The screen flickered, the AI processing his words.

User designation required. Please provide identification.

Grant hesitated. He hadn't spoken his full name out loud in years. It didn't matter out here—names didn't buy food, names didn't stop thieves from cutting your throat in the middle of the night.

But maybe, from this moment on, it would.

"...Grant Asher," he said finally. "That's my name."

User Grant Asher registered. Initializing synchronization.

The display surged with light, lines of data scrolling too fast for Grant to read. A sharp, electric buzz filled the air, and before he could react—

Pain.

A searing shock shot through his body, locking his muscles in place. His vision blurred, his breath hitched, and then—

Nothing.

When Grant woke up, everything hurt.

His arms, his legs, his head—it felt like he had been tossed into a reactor core and spat back out. His fingers twitched against the cold, dusty floor of the wrecked cockpit, his ears ringing with a distant hum.

Groaning, he forced himself upright, blinking against the harsh glow of the screen in front of him.

Synchronization complete.Welcome, Captain.

Captain?

Grant let out a weak, breathless laugh. His body ached, his mind swam, but one thing was clear.

He wasn't just some scavenger anymore.

Something had changed.

He looked down at his arms and noticed the strange swirling power at his fingertips

"What- What is this?" Grant asked to the air

That is your power captain. You can use it to manipulate reality itself around you.

Grant had heard about this. Ancient AI relics awakening powers beyond the reach of normal people. Bizarre abilities from causing massive fission abilities, creating frost nova's large enough to encase a moon in ice, huge EMP blasts powerful enough to wipe out entire battalions. He had even heard that the large noble families passed on these AI's from generation to generation

"Can I do something like that?" He wondered aloud "Can I cast explosions or EMP's now?

Negative captain. Your power is much beyond that of those lesser AI's. I am special. Now, you are special.

A shudder went down Grants spine. He was special? Ever since he was young he never felt any more special than the rats scurrying across the floor of his small shack on the edge of the junkyard.

Grant stared at his hands, watching the strange, shifting energy swirl around his fingertips like living smoke. It pulsed, fading in and out of sight, like it wasn't entirely real—or maybe, like it was more real than anything else around him.

Beyond fission, beyond EMPs, beyond ice and flame. The AI's voice was calm, assured. Your power is not destruction, but dominion. You do not command an element, Captain. You command the fabric of reality itself.

Grant swallowed hard. "What does that even mean?"

It means you are no longer bound by the rules of lesser beings. Your will can shape the world around you. Given time, given mastery, you will not need weapons. You will be one.

His breathing grew shallow.

Reality itself? That was… impossible. No, worse than impossible—it was dangerous.

He had spent his whole life as nothing. A rat scraping by in the dark corners of a galaxy that didn't care whether he lived or died. And now this—this AI, this thing—was telling him he wasn't just powerful, but more powerful than the nobles who ruled entire sectors of space? The very same nobles who hoarded their AI relics like sacred artifacts, passing them down from generation to generation, ensuring no one outside their bloodlines could ever challenge them?

And yet, here he was.

A nobody. A scavenger.

Special.

A shudder ran down his spine.

"...Prove it," Grant said, his voice quiet but firm. "If I really have this power, then prove it."

The AI didn't hesitate.

Very well, Captain.

The energy around his fingers flared, and suddenly, the wreckage beneath him groaned. Metal twisted, shifting of its own accord. Broken consoles sparked, wires untangling and weaving together like veins of a living creature. The entire cockpit moved, lifting itself up as if answering a silent command.

Grant stumbled backward, heart pounding.

"What the hell—"

Your power is instinctual. It will obey your thoughts, your intent. With training, you will learn control. But for now, let me guide you.

The floor beneath him rose—not all of it, just a section, forming a platform beneath his feet. The junked panels around him pulled themselves into something resembling walls, a protective shell.

Not destruction. Creation.

Grant exhaled sharply, barely able to process what was happening.

This wasn't some ordinary relic AI.

This was something more. Something bigger. Something dangerous.

Grant stumbled and fell to the ground, gasping for air.

"What-What is happening to me?" He let out between Shakey breaths.

My capacity is only 2% of what it should be. You are limited. Through growth in your mind capacity i, along with you, shall grow stronger. For now I recommend you take it easy.

"O-Okay. Can I see my status or something?" The moment he let out the word status a window popped out in front of him.

A translucent window flickered to life before Grant's eyes, casting a soft glow over the wreckage around him. Lines of text scrolled across the display, shifting and adjusting as if responding to his focus.

Updated Status Screen:

[User: Grant Asher]Status: Synchronization Incomplete (2%)Power Level: RestrictedCognitive Capacity: LowPhysical Condition: Fatigued, Minor Neural Overload

Attributes:

Strength: 3

Agility: 7

Intelligence: 5

Constitution: 2

Abilities Unlocked: 2

🔹 Reality Manipulation (Restricted: 2%) – Allows limited influence over physical matter. Greater control requires increased synchronization.

🔹 Omni-Forge - Level 1 (Restricted: 2%)

Can manipulate nearby scrap to assemble basic mechanical constructs (e.g., simple drones, crude weapons, automated tools).Requires physical materials to function; cannot generate components from nothing. Efficiency is low, leading to unstable or fragile creations.

Grant's head swam as he read through the information. "Synchronization… incomplete?"

Correct, Captain. The AI's voice remained steady, but something about its tone felt almost... expectant. As you grow, your mind will expand, and synchronization will increase. Right now, you can barely access my capabilities. Your body and mind are too weak to handle more.

Grant exhaled, wiping the sweat from his brow. "So... I just need to get stronger?"

Precisely. Your power is tied to your mental and physical development. Without growth, you will remain at this limited state.

Grant clenched his fists. He had spent his whole life scraping by, surviving on whatever scraps he could scavenge. Weak, insignificant, overlooked. But now, for the first time, there was a path forward—something beyond mere survival.

He took a deep breath and looked at the swirling energy still faintly flickering around his fingertips.

"I'm going to get stronger," he muttered. Then, louder: "Tell me how."

The AI's response was immediate.

First, Captain, you must leave this place.

Grant stared at the glowing status screen, his mind racing. Omni-Forge? Reality Manipulation? Even at just 2% synchronization, the power it hinted at was beyond anything he had ever imagined.

He clenched his fists, still feeling the faint flicker of energy at his fingertips. He had spent years picking apart scraps, scavenging broken machines, dreaming of something greater. And now, it was in his grasp. A power that could reshape the galaxy.

But first—he had to survive.

He pushed himself up from the cold metal floor of the wrecked ship, his limbs trembling with exhaustion. Around him, the remnants of the crash lay in twisted heaps—cracked monitors, broken steel plating, shattered glass. He wasn't sure how he was still alive, but that could wait.

The holographic map flickered to life before him. It was a familiar sight—a top-down view of Karvess's Colony District, a sprawling maze of junk heaps, rusted-out buildings, and the central trading hub where scavengers bartered for food, parts, or—if they were lucky—a way off-world.

Planet Designation: Karvess Colony Status: Independent Scavenger Outpost Nearest Safe Zone: Colony District – 4.7 km South

Grant's jaw tightened. Home.

He had grown up in the Colony District—one of the countless orphans scraping by in the lawless outpost. No real government, just the strongest running the show. Mercenaries, salvagers, and corporate outcasts all fighting over the endless sea of scrap that covered the planet.

But now… could he even go back?

Would they even recognize him? Would he even be the same?

He took a step forward and winced. His body ached, exhaustion weighing him down like chains. He wouldn't last an hour in this condition.

"AI, you got anything to help me move?"

"Affirmative, Captain. Utilizing limited Omni-Forge capabilities."

A surge of energy rippled through the wreckage. Sparks flickered as nearby scraps shifted, drawn toward Grant's outstretched hand. He barely had time to react before the metal folded and twisted, wrapping around his legs and arms—forming into something crude yet functional.

A makeshift exo-frame.

It was far from perfect—the pieces were jagged, the joints stiff—but when Grant took a step, the frame absorbed the strain, reducing his fatigue.

He grinned. "Now this is cool."

"Efficiency at 27%. Stability is limited. Recommend avoiding excessive strain."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. No running marathons."

With renewed determination, Grant turned south, toward the Colony District.

As he began his jog south he asked a question "Hey system, can I design my own machines?"

Of course you can. So long as you have the knowledge. Otherwise it might be best for me to automatically design them for you...

"....oh." Grant had forgotten one important detail in regards to the idea of designing his own creations; he had no education, formal or informal. Essentially, until he learned how to actually create machines he would have to rely on the system.

Well that's annoying he thought.

Oh well. It seems to be doing a pretty good job. He admired the suit wrapped around his body. It may have been made of literal junk but he wouldn't be surprised if it could tank a bullet-or twenty. Its joints took all the strain from his muscles, helping him weave between piles of trash and duck under wires with ease. He had never felt this powerful.

"Status" He called, wondering if the suit had affected his stats.

[User: Grant Asher]Status: Synchronization Incomplete (2%)

Power Level: Restricted

Cognitive Capacity: Low

Physical Condition: Fatigued, Minor Neural Overload, Suit-Assisted Mobility

Attributes:

Strength: (3)8 (Enhanced by exo-frame)

Agility: (7) 12 (Enhanced by exo-frame)

Intelligence: 5

Constitution: (2) 5 (Enhanced by exo-frame)

Abilities Unlocked: 2

🔹 Reality Manipulation (Restricted: 2%) – Allows limited influence over physical matter. Greater control requires increased synchronization.

🔹 Omni-Forge - Level 1 (Restricted: 2%)

Can manipulate nearby scrap to assemble basic mechanical constructs (e.g., simple drones, crude weapons, automated tools).Requires physical materials to function; cannot generate components from nothing. Efficiency is low, leading to unstable or fragile creations.

Suit Stats (Exo-Frame)

Status: Operational (Low Efficiency)Energy Consumption: High (Requires Rest/Recharging)Suit Efficiency: 27%Durability: 45% (Fragile Build, Susceptible to Damage)Additional Attributes:

Strength Boost: +5 Agility Boost: +5 Constitution Boost: +3 Suit Limitations: Increased fatigue after extended use; vulnerable to high-impact damage.

Your currently in-use machines will be shown along side your status when opened.

Grant admired his new stats as he bounded over the top of a trash pile, reaching his goal. He saw the large colony spread out thinly, poor people crouching under their cloaks over trashcans lit on fire. He approached the gate of the city when...

Ahead he saw a duo of scavengers harassing a seemingly small girl around 8 years old.

"Well, no time like the present I suppose" He said as he bounded toward the three at a blistering speed.