Hazel stood at the palace gates, smoothing out the fabric of her dress while her eyes scanned the cobblestone path leading away from Aropia’s palace. Ren had been unusually secretive when he invited her here, insisting only that she meet him at the gates.

He’d promised to make up for causing her to be worried the previous night—his words still fresh in her mind, making her heart beat faster than she liked to admit.

Yet now, there was nothing. No horses, no elegant chariot, no sign of Ren himself. The courtyard was strangely silent, empty except for the long shadows cast by the rising sun.

She frowned, taking a step back. Had she been pranked? She dismissed the thought almost immediately—no, Ren wasn’t the kind for childish games. He was far too serious, too deliberate.

But then what was going on?

Suddenly, the ground beneath her seemed to tremble, a deep, steady rumble growing louder with every passing second. It wasn’t like the thundering hooves of galloping horses, nor the creaking wheels of a carriage. This sound was different—almost like the hum of a great, invisible beast, its rhythmic vibrations sinking deep into her bones.

Startled, Hazel spun towards the gates just as they creaked open, revealing a strange, metallic shape beyond. Her eyes widened, and her breath caught in her throat as a bizarre, wheeled carriage rolled forward, its polished surface gleaming under the afternoon light.

It was like nothing she’d ever seen before—a contraption with no horses, no visible means of being pulled. It moved by itself, gliding across the ground with a deep, resonating growl that made the very air tremble.

At the front of this strange vehicle sat Ren, his familiar figure relaxed yet commanding as he gripped a circular contraption in front of him, turning it smoothly from side to side.

Hazel had no idea what it was—a strange, round handle that seemed to guide the movement of this horse-less carriage, responding to the lightest pressure of his hands. He smiled at her from his seat, the wind ruffling his dark hair, and for a second, Hazel was too stunned to move, too stunned even to think.

“What...?” she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath.

A carriage without horses? A machine that seemed to breathe and rumble like a living thing? She’d heard Ren speak of innovation before, of strange inventions and impossible ideas from his previous world, but this—this was beyond any of the wild tales.

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Ren pulled the carriage to a stop right in front of her, and the rumbling softened into a low purr, the vibrations still humming through the ground beneath her feet. r.

“Hop in!” he called, as if inviting her on the most ordinary of rides. “It’s safer than it looks.”

Hazel blinked, her feet feeling suddenly heavy, unable to move. Safer than it looks? She couldn’t even begin to comprehend what it was she was looking at.

She took a tentative step forward, her gaze darting over the shiny, blackened wheels and the strange, polished metal of its body.

Ren’s smile softened, and he reached out a hand, his expression gentle with understanding. “I know it’s... strange,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost tender. “But I wanted to show you something—something I’ve been working on for a long time. It’s called a ‘car.’ I believe I told you about it when I was talking about my previous world.”

As Hazel settled into the strange carriage, her mind was still reeling from the sight of the machine—this “car” as Ren had called it.

The steady, rhythmic hum beneath her feet felt almost alive, and she couldn’t help but look around in awe as they drove down the main road. Curiosity finally got the better of her, and she turned to Ren, eyes wide with wonder.

“How does it move?” she asked, almost breathless. “Without horses, I mean. What... what’s making it go?”

Ren’s face lit up, a mix of pride and excitement, as if he’d been waiting for this question. “It’s all about the engine,” he explained, tapping the metal frame near his side.

“Inside this carriage, there’s a mechanism called an engine that creates movement using pistons. It’s a bit like... well, imagine a series of powerful bursts, one after another, pushing metal rods back and forth. That’s what drives the wheels.”

Hazel’s brow furrowed, her expression a mixture of confusion and fascination. “Pistons?” she repeated, the word foreign on her tongue.

Ren chuckled softly at her bewilderment.

“I know, it’s a lot to take in. The pistons are these metal rods that move up and down, creating a force that turns the wheels. The real magic behind it, though, is the fuel—condensed magic energy extracted from manna grass.”

“Manna grass?” Hazel’s eyes widened, a flicker of understanding dawning in her gaze. “So, that’s why you stopped the exports?”

“Exactly,” Ren confirmed, nodding.

“For years, we were selling manna grass as a raw material to other nations. They used it however they saw fit, and Aropia remained weak—dependent on their demand, always beholden to their whims. We had no way to control the prices because we never really created a large enough domestic demand for it. But this—this is different. By extracting the magic energy directly, condensing it into a powerful fuel source, we’re no longer just trading grass. We’re creating something of far greater value.”

Hazel listened, trying to follow his explanation.