Lowe stood in the dimly lit garage, the scent of oil and metal swirling around him, wrapping him in the familiar warmth of home. The rhythmic clanging of tools echoed through the space, a symphony of labor that resonated with the heartbeat of his father, who moved about with a practiced ease. The garage smelled of aged wood, a hint of rust, and the faint sweetness of the alchemical concoctions that lay in glass vials on the workbench, remnants of past projects.
“Hand me that wrench, will you?” his father called, his voice deep and resonant, layered with the weight of years dedicated to craftsmanship. Lowe turned, his heart swelling with a mix of pride and nostalgia as he reached for the tool.
“Here you go, Dad,” he replied, sliding the wrench across the table, his fingers brushing against the various tools strewn about. The workshop felt like a museum of memories, displaying their shared passion for invention and creation.
As his father tightened a bolt on the framework of the aircraft they were constructing, Lowe’s gaze drifted to the contraption taking shape before them. It was an ambitious project, an airplane that he and his father hoped would soar through the skies. The skeletal frame gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights, a fusion of wood and metal, with hints of the intricate mechanisms that would bring it to life.
“Are you sure about this?” Lowe asked, his brow furrowing as he recalled the complexities of airship technology. “Building an airplane from scratch is one thing but trying to integrate the Flying Core from those Enoch airships… that’s ambitious.”
His father paused, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, revealing a face etched with years of arduous work. “Ambitious, yes, but it’s our chance to innovate, to push the boundaries of what’s possible. Besides,” he added with a twinkle in his eye, “there’s something exhilarating about flight, don’t you think?”
Lowe chuckled, the warmth of his father’s enthusiasm igniting a spark within him. “You always did have a flair for adventure.” Lowe turned his attention to the workbench, where the crystalline Flying Core rested, its surface shimmering with an ethereal glow. It looked almost alive, pulsing gently as if it held the very essence of the Aether within.
The Flying Cores were remarkable creations—magitech Lowe’s father called them—artifacts shaped like crystal spheres, designed to harness the Aether in the environment and transform it into electricity. They powered airships, creating an antigravitational pull that defied the very laws of nature. With a Flying Core, an immensely heavy and massive airship could glide effortlessly through the skies, relying on far less machinery and fuel than its diesel counterparts. The regular Albans, with their hulking engines and the unmistakable roar of diesel, seemed crude in comparison. The thought of the Flying Core’s efficiency, its ability to store electricity generated by diesel engines and power everything from lamps to navigation devices, sent a thrill coursing through Lowe’s veins.
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“It’s strange,” he mused aloud, his fingers brushing the smooth surface of the core, feeling the faint vibrations that resonated from within. “How can something this powerful be available for commercial use? It seems like technology meant for Thaumaturgy practitioners, you know Arlos and Janas, not for everyday people like us.”
His father nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “It is peculiar, isn’t it? Almost like Enoch Corporation is playing a game with fire, letting the flames dance closer to the masses.” He tightened a final bolt, then turned to face Lowe, his expression serious. “That’s why we need to understand how it works. If we can reverse-engineer it, we could unlock potential far beyond what they offer.”
Lowe felt the weight of his father’s words settle upon him. They were venturing into uncharted territory, exploring a world of possibilities that lay just outside the grasp of the ordinary.
As they began to dissect the flying core, Lowe’s heart raced, the thrill of the unknown pushing him forward. He leaned closer as his father opened the core in half, his breath catching as he inspected the intricate mechanisms within. Tiny gears spun with mechanical precision, and wisps of Aether swirled in delicate patterns, illuminating the chamber with a soft blue light. It was mesmerizing, like peering into the very fabric of the universe.
“Careful there,” his father cautioned, his voice laced with concern. “We don’t want to damage anything. This core is the heart of the system.”
Lowe nodded, his focus narrowing as he examined the components. He felt as if the core could be coaxed into revealing its secrets. His fingers moved deftly, tracing the lines of the core’s inner workings, the cool crystal sending a shiver up his spine. “What if we could manipulate the Aether flow? We can enhance the antigravitational pull,” Lowe suggested.
His father leaned in closer, eyes wide with excitement. “That’s the spirit! Let’s see how far we can push this.” They both leaned over the core, their breaths mingling in the charged atmosphere of the garage, the air heavy with anticipation.
Lowe carefully removed a small panel from the core, exposing a series of interconnected conduits. The delicate threads of Aether glimmered as they flowed through the channels, illuminating the space around them in an otherworldly glow. “It’s beautiful,” he murmured, entranced by the sight.
“Now, let’s experiment,” his father suggested, his voice a blend of authority and thrill. “We’ll need to create a controlled environment to test the antigravitational pull. We’ll need something to lift.”
Lowe nodded, a grin spreading across his face. “How about that old weight we’ve got tucked away in the corner?” He gestured toward a heavy metal weight that had long since been forgotten, its surface marred by rust. “It should be a good test subject.”
“Perfect!” His father clapped his hands together, the sound ringing through the garage like a bell. “Let’s set it up.”
They dragged the 100-something-pound weight to the center of the floor, the metal scraping against the concrete, leaving behind a faint trail of dust. Lowe set the weight down, its presence imposing and solid. “Now, let’s see if we can create a field around it,” his father said, excitement bubbling within him.
Carefully, they adjusted the settings on the Flying Core, manipulating the conduits to direct the Aether flow toward the weight. Lowe’s heart raced as he watched the tiny gears spin faster, the light from the core intensifying, casting shifting shadows on the walls.