Standing on the high iron platform, looking down at the unfinished "Industrial Zone 1."
Dozens of bare-chested Wolf prisoners were dumping baskets of black ore into a massive iron hopper. White frost coated their fur, and every breath puffed out thick white fog.
"How long are we going to do this stupid thing?"
I heard the Wolf Centurion named Karg roaring. He slammed his shovel into the coal pile, the iron shackles on his feet clanking crisply.
"We are feeding rocks to an iron monster!" Karg pointed at the behemoth taking up half the factory floor. "That hairless 'Builder' says this thing can spit out 'Eternal Summer'? Ha! I say it's going to eat our souls!"
A low murmur of agreement rose around him.
I didn't rush down to stop it. This skepticism was expected. To primitives used to solving problems with muscle and axes, thermodynamics was witchcraft.
"Shut up and work!"
Bjorn walked over carrying a rebar thicker than a wolf's thigh. Although the Ursine giant hadn't been fitted with a prosthetic yet, his rock-like muscles were a deterrent in themselves.
"If the pressure gauge doesn't move before noon, lunch for all of you is just cold water."
Watching the commotion subside below, I withdrew my gaze and looked at the big guy beside me.
It was an ugly beast pieced together from rough black iron, brass pipes, and countless rivets—but to me, it was the most beautiful piece of art.
"Sarak, how's the Aether Crystal activity in the preheating chamber?"
I hung from a safety rope, holding a black box wrapped in electrical tape—a "Magic Detector" cobbled together by wiring a sensory crystal into my dismantled Fluke multimeter to adapt to this world's fluctuations.
Chief Engineer Sarak, wearing goggles bigger than her face, lay excitedly by the valve like a green gecko: "Activity 120%! Boss! That core dug out of the Salamander's belly is kicking! It wants to explode! It craves explosion!"
"Don't let it explode! Control the intake!" I shouted back, sweating. "We want controlled combustion, not to send us all to the sky!"
I pushed up my greasy glasses and took a deep breath.
This wasn't just a steam engine. It was a hybrid prototype using Earth's thermodynamics combined with an otherworldly high-energy magic core as a "spark plug."
"All units, attention!"
I jumped off the console, voice echoing in the empty factory. "Prepare for ignition! First full-power test, countdown!"
"Three!"
The Wolf prisoners below stopped their work, eyes full of suspicion and fear.
"Two!"
At the door, Zayla stood guard with her broken blade, golden pupils shrinking to needle points, staring dead at the trembling iron monster as if it would bite at any moment.
"One! PULL THE LEVER!"
Sarak let out a manic cackle and yanked down the red lever.
A dull, seismic thud came from the machine's belly, like a sleeping giant being kicked awake. Immediately after, the tooth-aching sound of metal grinding against metal and the rush of pressurized fluid filled the complex pipe system.
White steam screamed out from the relief valve, instantly filling half the factory with a piercing shriek. Then, the massive cast-iron flywheel, two meters in diameter, began to move.
Slow at first. The heavy clanking of the pistons set the rhythm.
Then faster. The rhythm accelerated into a blur.
Finally, it merged into a continuous, power-filled roar that shook the very foundations of the building.
The ground vibrated; the air trembled. The giant iron wheel turned into a grey blur, driving the generator set beside it to spin madly.
"Output stable!" Sarak screamed over the noise. "Let's light 'em up!"
My lips curled up, revealing that signature confident smirk.
I bent down and picked up a heavy bundle of thick copper wire, crudely but effectively insulated with treated beast-hide.
I skillfully stripped the wire end and connected it to the copper terminals of the generator.
"Let there be light." I flipped the heavy iron circuit breaker. The mechanical click was swallowed by the engine's roar, but the result was instantaneous.
Four massive iron boxes hanging from the steel beams—Carbon-Arc Lamps assembled by Sarak—ignited.
Crackle—! A harsh, electric hiss filled the air as the carbon rods sparked, emitting a blinding, raw white light. It was unstable, occasionally flickering with ozone sparks, but it was incredibly intense.
"AHHH—!" I saw several Wolf prisoners near the light source instinctively cover their eyes, screaming. Retinas accustomed to dim yellow firelight couldn't withstand the immediate impact of this industrial glare.
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Karg's shovel dropped to the ground. He stared blankly overhead. There was no dancing flame, only those blinding mechanical eyes looking down at them, spitting out light a hundred times more dazzling than the noon sun.
Although I couldn't hear what Karg was saying, I could read his fear from his lips and trembling body. "This is... divine punishment."
I stood on the high iron platform, in the backlit shadow of that pale light, and pushed up the glasses on my nose. The lenses reflected a cold white glare.
I glanced at the system panel, clapping the coal dust off my hands with satisfaction.
"Alright, stop staring."
I shouted to the petrified Wolves below, pointing to the pipes on both sides that were starting to radiate heat. "If you're done staring at the sun, feel the surroundings. As long as the machine turns, the 'Summer' here will never go out. Those who want to stay warm, keep shoveling coal!"
This time, there were no complaints.
Karg was the first to rush to the coal pile, shoveling twice as fast as before. Adding fuel to a god that could imprison the sun and manufacture summer was no longer hard labor, but a sacrifice.
Half an hour later, the crowd dispersed, leaving only the background noise of the machine roaring.
I was checking the pressure gauge readings when I suddenly felt something was off.
Too quiet. Besides the machine noise, the figure that had been standing guard at the door was gone.
"Zayla?" I called out.
No response.
I frowned, carrying a hand lamp around to the back of the massive boiler. This was where the heat was most concentrated; the surface temperature of the insulation layer was over forty degrees, waves of heat rolling off it.
Then, I froze.
The proud Queen of the Silvermoon was currently "hanging" on an insulation mat on the boiler's outer wall, completely devoid of image.
She had taken off the heavy leather armor that was always full of killing intent, wearing only a thin linen shirt slightly soaked with sweat. Her usually straight back was now soft as a puddle of water, curled up following the curve of the boiler.
The most fatal part was the tail.
That silver long tail, which balanced like a steel whip on the battlefield, was now hanging down limply, swaying extremely comfortably and unconsciously with the rhythm of the steam engine piston movement.
Even her alert ears were now soft and slightly tilted to the side, twitching gently in her sleep—a sign of absolute, unguarded comfort.
I couldn't help but want to laugh. I deliberately cleared my throat and tapped the railing next to me with a wrench.
"Ahem!"
"MEOW?!"
Zayla let out a short yelp, completely unbefitting of a queen.
She launched herself from the boiler like a startled spring. Because the floor was slippery, she stumbled upon landing, nearly planting her face on the ground.
She frantically grabbed a cloak nearby to wrap herself, face flushing red.
"I... I was checking for leaks!"
Zayla pressed herself tightly against the wall, trying to stop her tail that was still twitching disobediently, eyes darting around. "The sound of this machine... that vibration frequency, sounds like... like the low growl of some dangerous beast! I must monitor it closely to ensure it doesn't go berserk!"
I leaned on the railing, looking at her eyes which, though trying to widen, had pupils dilated into circles, and pushed up my glasses.
"Oh—monitoring vibrations."
I pointed to the insulation mat behind her, which already had a cat-shaped depression pressed into it, suppressing a laugh. "Then Your Majesty, your monitoring method is truly... fully immersive."
Zayla's face turned even redder. She gritted her teeth, forcing a stern face: "It's too hot here; it seriously affects my combat state. I... I'm going out on patrol!"
With that, she marched toward the door, left arm swinging with her left leg.
Just the moment before she walked out of the warm factory into the ice and snow outside, I clearly saw her ears droop in extreme annoyance, and a miserable whimper came from her throat.
I shook my head with a smile, took out my notebook, and added a note to the blueprint:
[To-Do: Install a VIP cushioned seat on top of the boiler room.]
[Note: For "Safety Monitoring" purposes.]
Amidst the roar of steel and steam, this broken world seemed to finally have a trace of genuine warmth.
The engine is running, the Wolves are awed, and the Queen has found her favorite spot.
Question of the Day: What other modern comforts should Alex introduce to bribe the locals?
(Click your choice to see the effect)
?? A) Hot Showers.
Effect: Hygiene Revolution. The smell of the camp improves by 500%. Zayla spends 2 hours a day in there. Water bill skyrockets.
?? B) Coffee.
Effect: Productivity Boost. The Dwarves work twice as fast but start vibrating. Kaelas tries to use it as rocket fuel.
?? C) Catnip (Dangerous).
Effect: Chaos. Zayla loses all dignity. The camp is destroyed in a "playful" rampage. Do not attempt.
Vote in the comments! ??