The moment Yelena stepped into the main laboratory complex, her composure cracked. Her eyes widened at the sight of the rumbling engines, the towering machinery, the web of pipes breathing steam into the rafters, and the tight clusters of researchers and technicians buzzing with purpose.
"Unbelievable," she breathed, almost under her breath.
Then—catching herself—she straightened, her expression tightening with embarrassment. "Forgive me… I've been rude again. It's simply difficult to reconcile this with the information we had. None of us imagined Paradis Island had advanced this far in just a few months."
Lock stood beside her with an easy, quiet smile.
"Human potential is limitless. Especially when survival depends on it."
Ahead of them, Hange Zoe moved through the laboratory like a spark dancing across kindling—gesturing wildly, muttering to herself, then suddenly grabbing one of Yelena's accompanying technicians by the shoulders as she fired off a rapid string of questions. The poor man looked half-terrified, half-entranced.
Lock continued, his tone warm but steady.
"To reach this point so quickly, Commander Hange has carried an immeasurable share of the burden. Paradis Island would not have moved a single step forward in modern science without her."
"That much is obvious," Yelena agreed. Her voice carried a rare softness. "The contribution of a brilliant researcher outweighs that of most soldiers. War today is shaped by industry and machines, not only by bodies and blades."
She paused, studying Lock's expression.
"Captain Lock… would you mind guiding me through the rest of the laboratory? To evaluate how we can assist you, I need a clear picture of your current technological foundation."
Originally, Yelena had come with the intent of leveraging Paradis Island's Titan power to topple Marley. But after witnessing not only the Titans but the momentum of innovation—after feeling the faint but growing pulse of technological ambition on this island—her goals expanded. Titan strength alone was not enough; a civilisation poised for rapid advancement was what she needed as an ally.
And Lock knew it.
He sensed her shift in attitude, subtle but unmistakable, and could not help the quiet breath of relief escaping him. The Anti-Marleyan Volunteers were crucial—far beyond their small number. They were the key that could open the gates to the knowledge Paradis had lost for a century. And now, the woman spearheading them was slowly turning from observer to collaborator.
In the hours that followed, Lock guided Yelena through every chamber of the facility. From the steam compression prototypes, to the early blueprints for rail carriages, to the crude but promising engines designed for large-scale machinery. He walked her through metalworking sections, chemistry stations, and artillery refinement rooms where new barrels and shell casings were under stress testing.
When they entered the main engine testing hall, Hange practically leapt toward them.
"LOOK!" she shouted, her goggles pushed up into her frizzed hair. "Do you see this? We reduced the frame weight by a full thirty per cent! And the torque output—oh, the torque output!—Lock, this is going to change how we move everything!"
Yelena blinked, overwhelmed.
"People… can truly fly? And these… these carts that move without horses—are they common technology outside the island?"
Hange nodded vigorously, immediately pivoting into explanation mode.
"Yes! Yes! Rail systems, steam vehicles, troop transports—mass mobility is the foundation of modern war. With these, an army becomes a storm. Tanks—well, we don't have tanks yet, but the concept—"
She would've continued indefinitely if Lock hadn't tapped her shoulder lightly.
He smiled in apology. "She gets excited."
"I can see that," Yelena said, unable to hide a laugh. "She's… charming in her own way."
Hange puffed her chest proudly at that, then immediately dragged Yelena's technicians off into a corner to bombard them with more questions. They went willingly, though their expressions hinted at mild dread.
Lock exhaled around a small smile.
"She's been working without rest. When more researchers arrive from your side, she won't have to bear everything alone. Her job is to guide the overall direction—not burn herself out."
"I'm fine!" Hange yelled from across the room, misinterpreting his tone. "Completely fine!"
Yelena laughed again, then gave Lock a long, studying look.
"You're young to worry so much about others. Leadership sits heavily on you…Yet you carry it well."
Lock didn't answer, only gestured that they should continue.
They left the laboratory complex and made their way toward the central district. As they walked, Yelena's eyes roamed ceaselessly—inquisitive, calculating. Her mind was busy, assembling the profile of a nation long dismissed as primitive.
"Where are we heading?" she asked.
"To the Council Hall," Lock replied. "You'll meet our President. In the future, matters of civilian infrastructure, resource allocation, and population support will be coordinated with him."
Yelena's gaze sharpened.
"And… whose side is he on?"
Lock understood the true meaning of the question.
"On ours," he answered without hesitation. "Every sector is under unified direction now. There are still a few remnants of the old regime hiding in the dark, but they are powerless. The people stand with us."
Yelena frowned slightly. "No dissatisfaction? After such a rapid change in leadership?"
Lock met her eyes, unwavering.
"They lived for more than a century inside stone cages. Lied to. Controlled. Treated as livestock. Under the new leadership, they have freedom of thought, rising living standards, and a future they can shape for themselves. They have no reason to resist us."
He continued, voice steady, certain.
"The people of Paradis ask for little—safety, food, dignity. We have given them all three."
Yelena looked at him for a long moment.
"…I see."
Her admiration was not spoken aloud, but it radiated through her expression. She had met kings, military leaders, and revolutionaries. Few carried themselves like this boy—calm, measured, yet burning with purpose.
Lock didn't notice the faint shift in her eyes.
But Petra would have.
Hange too.
Yelena's thought echoed silently:
He's too young for this. But if anyone can reshape the fate of this island… it might be him.
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