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Sylus is a poor inventor in the City of Leahstra and looks up to the infamous inventor James Michanagan. But a special secret and the ambition to make a better world will cross their paths more than once. Have fun reading it while reading along listen to "Steampunk Music Compilation | CLOCKWORK LANDS | 1-Hour Mix" - The Spirit of Orchestral Music (available on YouTube)

Adventure / Fantasy
Age Rating:

Chapter I

Three young men in masks and guns barged through the door. “Freeze! This is a robbery! Give me your values or your life!” They demanded. Men and women exclaimed in surprise and many crouched to the floor, placing at their feet their valuables.

“Care to rephrase that, gentlemen?” Asked a calm voice from behind the men. The bandits quickly turned around to see, but before they could point their weapons at the man, they froze in awe. “Meet my latest invention; it is made to capture people like you before you can say Cornelius Durulus.” Twice the size of an average man stood a machine humming softly and emitting an intense heat like fire and from the exhaust pipe rolled out dark smoke. A large round shaped glass bowl reflected the bandit’s amazed faces.

Suddenly the machine spurted, stuttered and a few cogs came flying towards the bandits. The men cried in panic while dodging the cogs.

“Oops, that wasn’t supposed to happen.” Laughed the inventor nervously.

One of the bandits grunted in anger as he got up to his feet. “That’s it!” He aimed his loaded weapon at the inventor.

Suddenly the bandit felt something blunt resting against his spine. “I agree.” Spoke a voice from behind him coolly. “Drop your weapon!” The voice demanded. “Unless you want to take it against the Legion.”

The bandit grunted and dropped his weapon, immediately their wrists were shackled, and more soldrons escorted them out the bank.

“Another failed attempt with your contraption, Sylus?” Sighed the soldron while strapping his weapon back to his belt and walked towards him.

“You know as well as I; it’s no contraption nor a failure, Morgan. It needs some adjustments and then catching people red-handed will be a walk in the park!” Gave Sylus optimistic and pulled from his belt his wrench.

“Please fix your machine elsewhere, this is now a crime scene, as usual.” Sighed Morgan annoyed.

That man you see just walking off is Morgan Arseelius, he’s a detective and member of the Legion and a friend. He knows I’m trying to help but, there is room for doubt, as usual wherever I go. My name is Sylus and, I’m an inventor, a poor one like many others. But I don’t seek fame and fortune, I invent to make the world a better place.

You’re surely wondering what’s the Legion in the city of Leahstra? They are what you call in your world the police and soldron is an officer.

Many people here doubt of my work due to my strange ideas and clumsy nature except my mentor, Rock. He took me in when I was 13 and see him as a father to me. His workshop and our home are in the outskirts of the industry section of Leahstra, and on the last mile reaching home, it began to pour like out of buckets. Leahstra is well known for its latest inventions, the food and the weather.

“Sylus, you’re back my boy, how did it go?” Asked Rock from the balcony as I entered with my latest machine.

“Later Rock, I need to dry the machine and repair the damage.” I sighed while hanging up my jacket and cap near the fire to dry.

Rock said nothing but, as our glances met, I saw in his eyes reading me like an open book how it went at the bank. He said nothing and walked away, leaving me alone what I exactly need at the moment. With a sigh to gather my strength, I pull the machine into the workshop. Rock and I live in an old abandoned factory and rebuilt it into our home and workshop. On the ground floor is the living room, kitchen and workshop at the very back. The cellar is our storage room for parts, food and the huge water tank with our self-built heating machine around it. And on the first floor, you can guess the rest, bedroom and bathroom. For being poor, we are fortunate to have found this place, recycle almost everything that comes into our hands, and if not handy at the moment; then it lands in the cellar. That’s the habit of a poor inventor or as the old saying goes, waste not, want not.

The smell of grease, oil and coal soothed my mind while removing the wet covers. After fixing around my machine, I don’t know for how long until Rock came up to me. He patted my shoulder with a warm grin. “Leave it be for today and supper’s ready.”

I blinked amazed how time flies and realizing the pit in my stomach. “Alright.” I sighed and followed him to the kitchen. On the table lay ready sandwiches and a large pot of tea. After eating in silence, Rock sighed and leaned back of the chair, looking at me concerned. “Even a blind man can hear from your sighs and silence that things didn’t go as you’ve hoped this morning.”

“There are still some slip-ups with the machine and otherwise the usual.” I forced a brief grin.

“I’m sure one day it will change, son. They aren’t ready for your ideas, yet.”

“First I need to make one that functions properly,” I remarked annoyed to the fact. “Plus, they all judge me by my clumsiness and failures.”

Rock grinned at me. “Do you remember what you said the other day? One day you will prove them wrong and, I have a feeling it is coming soon as long you don’t give up.”

“Who said of giving up?” I smirked and recalled the moment. “And you’re right, I will prove them wrong one day soon. I’ll review my plan of the machine and fix the flaw like the great James Michanagan would do.” I stood up and paced into the workshop. Threw a long glance on one wall the priced poster of my idol for invention, the great mechanic James Michanagan. If he can fix and invent anything, then I surely can too. I massaged my gloved hands while walking over to the table where the plans are to start the correction.

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