If the "KuaFu" nuclear fusion reactor was the beating heart of the mecha, and the "next-generation batteries" its flowing blood, then chips and artificial intelligence were the "brain" and "soul" of these mortal war machines.
After learning about the impending Judgment Day of 2045, China's investment in the fields of chips and AI was no longer merely industrial upgrading; it became a "life project" betting the fate of the nation.
In a heavily guarded, secret technological park along the coast, so secure that not even birds could approach, countless optical fibers crisscrossed like a neural network.
They connected to the "Pangu Core" hidden deep underground—a strategic AI entrusted with humanity's highest hopes. Its physical form was a super data center composed of countless photon computing clusters and quantum processors, with its internal temperature maintained near absolute zero to ensure the ultimate performance of its computations. The air carried a crisp, cold scent of ozone, occasionally punctuated by faint electrical hums—the rhythmic pulse of billions of data streams surging through optical pathways.
The "Pangu Core's" primary mission was to counter the incomprehensible "divine logic" of the "Primal Chaos." Day and night, it incessantly analyzed every encrypted spectral signal transmitted from the far side of the moon, every spatial data point distorted by "divine" energy.
Through deep learning and pattern recognition, it simulated the gods' "modes of existence" and "attack patterns," attempting to pinpoint even the slightest "vulnerability" that mortals could exploit. This even included AI analysis of obscure "mythological descriptions" from ancient texts, seeking to unearth clues about "divine weaknesses" or "sealing laws" from seemingly absurd words.
In the "Pangu Core's" main control room, Dr. Lin, the chief scientist with thinning, gray hair, stared at the screen, his face pale. He had been working continuously for over 72 hours, his eyes bloodshot. A few days prior, during an analysis of energy feedback data from the "divine substance," the "Pangu Core" had instantly deduced a mathematical model so complex it was almost maddening. This model transcended all known human physics, even causing the AI itself to briefly overload.
Dr. Lin knew it wasn't an error, but that the AI had touched a "wall of laws" incomprehensible to mortals, perhaps even glimpsing some fundamental origin of "divinity." While this "transcendental" computational result offered a glimmer of hope, it also subtly raised concerns: could human intellect truly fully master such calculations that approached the "divine" infinitely?
"Report! The 'Pangu Core' has completed its 1.72 billionth 'Mortal-Divine Conflict Simulation'!"
A young AI engineer rubbed his tired eyes, but his gaze was filled with fervent excitement.
"Simulations show that, under current parameters, our victory probability has increased by 0.003%!"
This minuscule increase, in the face of the absolute disparity between mortals and gods, was enough to electrify all who knew about it. Dr. Lin, pushing through his exhaustion, clenched his fist. Behind that 0.003% lay countless sleepless nights and efforts that had pushed life to its absolute limit.
Supporting the "Pangu Core" in reaching such computational power was China's complete reversal in chip manufacturing. Facing severe technological blockades from Western nations in semiconductor technology, China had long ago initiated a "ten-year sword-forging" self-reliance plan. The outbreak of the "Mortal-Divine War" had pushed the speed and depth of this plan to unprecedented extremes.
Hundreds of meters underground, in dust-free workshops, independently developed lithography machines engraved silicon wafers with nanometer precision.
Scientists had pushed beyond the limits of ultraviolet lithography, even beginning to apply X-ray and electron-beam etching techniques to produce "next-generation chips" that surpassed the constraints of existing Moore's Law. These chips were no longer merely simple transistor integrations; they incorporated three-dimensional stacking technology and neural network architectures, achieving ultra-high-density computation and brain-like parallel processing capabilities.
Simultaneously, researchers had achieved breakthroughs in materials science. They no longer relied solely on silicon-based materials but successfully developed new graphene-based and carbon nanotube-based semiconductor materials.
These materials far surpassed traditional chips in conductivity, heat dissipation, and radiation resistance, ensuring the "Pangu Core's" stable operation under extreme workloads and the future mechas' reliability in "divine radiation" environments. Even in the chip packaging, a trace amount of specially treated "divine substance" extract was incorporated, hoping to provide additional stability when facing divine law disruptions.
However, this integration was a double-edged sword; while it gave the chips unprecedented resistance, minute leaks during the production process had caused brief logical malfunctions in some precision instruments within the workshop.
Every chip design blueprint was infused with the tireless efforts of countless engineers; every core component of a lithography machine embodied the unwavering dedication of countless scientists to "technological autonomy." Many of them lived deep within the base year-round, separated from their families.
Some collapsed from overwork, quietly taken away; others, after successfully overcoming a bottleneck, rejoiced like children, only to find their eyes welling up with tears the next moment, missing loved ones far away. They knew that what they were manufacturing wasn't just tiny silicon wafers, but the ultimate crystallization of mortal wisdom, the sharpest "blade of thought" against the divine.
"With the 'Pangu Core's' assistance, mech pilots' reaction speeds and decision-making capabilities will increase hundreds of times beyond human limits. It will be their 'divine eye' and 'divine hand,'" an AI project leader said hoarsely, his voice filled with exhaustion, but more so with the pride of mortal technology breaking its limits.
Through the "Pangu Core's" simulations, scientists even began to attempt to deduce "mathematical models" of divine attacks. Although these models were bizarre and complex, transcending existing physical laws, they at least provided a starting point for "countering."
As the countdown to 2045 grew smaller in the eyes of all who knew, every tiny technological advancement was like a beacon in the darkness, illuminating their despairing hearts.
Chips and AI, once considered hallmarks of human civilization's cutting edge, had now become the "cornerstones of wisdom" for mortals to defy fate and fight the gods. They were humanity's only stake in despair, against absolute power.