Return
"Perfect."
Chrome 1 percent, molybdenum 0.5 percent. Ultra-low carbon steel base. A miraculous alloy formula with a yield strength of 480 MPa that could be hammered out even in the crude blast furnaces of a fantasy world, shrugging off 150 atm of mana steam like it was nothing. The perfect heart for a steamship that would devour every trade route on the continent was now clutched in my hand.
"Now I just need to head back and melt some steel."
I slipped into a narrow alley behind the deserted lab, away from prying eyes. Confirming no CCTV cameras or people around, I pulled out the Carnoble family pendant tucked inside my shirt.
Tick-tock, tick-tock. I gripped the wind-up key at its center between thumb and forefinger, winding it with all my strength. Back beyond Earth—to Peluah, to the makeshift shipyard on the banks of the Rene River. To that split-second before Aila screamed and the boiler's outer wall tore open, unleashing a high-pressure steam explosion.
"Open."
I squeezed my eyes shut, vividly summoning the desperate scene right on the brink of catastrophe and Aila's voice in my mind. Waiting for the pendant to respond to my mental yearning with a burst of blue light.
But.
"...?"
One second, two seconds, ten seconds passed, and the pendant remained nothing but a cold lump of metal, not emitting even a single ray of light.
"What's wrong? Not enough yearning?"
I wound the key again, more roughly. I poured so much force into it that my fingertips went white from lack of blood, but the gears felt jammed solid, like they'd been crushed under a boulder. They wouldn't budge.
In that instant, my engineering brain fired like lightning, spitting out a single conclusion.
"Ah... shit."
A chill raced up my spine, goosebumps prickling my skin. I'd overlooked the pendant's first condition for opening a dimensional gate.
[Reach the critical point of massive physical energy.]
"What energy was injected into the pendant when I crossed over to the modern world?"
Hundreds of degrees Celsius in temperature, and the explosive expansion pressure exceeding 150 atm from the boiler. The pendant had sucked in that colossal thermal and mechanical energy like a black hole, punching through the dimensional barrier.
"But the destination I'm trying to return to is that exploding 'instant' in spacetime."
To reverse through the dimensional gate into that vortex of immense explosive energy, I needed to inject an equivalent overwhelming physical energy into the pendant from my side to overcome the dimensional resistance. No way could a human's puny grip strength winding the key a few times generate those hundreds of megajoules (MJ).
"At this rate... I can't go back."
My heart plummeted. If I couldn't return? The time in that world, frozen at 0.1 seconds before the explosion, would resume the moment the dimensional link severed. The house-sized boiler would erupt, the workshop and shipyard reduced to ashes, and Aila—standing right in front of me—would be shredded to pieces by thousands of iron fragments, losing her life.
"No. I can't let that happen."
I clenched my teeth and shoved the pendant into my pocket. No time for despair. I'm not a mage—I'm a mechanical engineer. If human strength couldn't provide the energy, I'd force it out with a machine.
"If I can't use pressure or heat, I'll drill through with rotational force."
I bolted straight for the subway. Destination: Korea University Second Engineering Building, large machinery and heavy equipment lab.
The university lab was mercifully silent on a Saturday afternoon. I swiped my security card and slipped into the empty, high-ceilinged space, making a beeline for the hulking machine covered in a tarp in the corner.
Whoosh! Dust billowed as I yanked off the tarp, revealing a massive jet-black silver cylinder the size of a person's torso.
"High-output industrial AC servo motor."
A beast used mainly for dynos measuring car engine output or pushing small turbines to their limits in tests. A tyrant of electric energy, pumping out hundreds of kilowatts (kW) in peak power and tens of thousands of RPM in insane rotational force.
"Pour this thing's rotational power straight into the pendant's central gear."
I dashed around the lab like a madman, grabbing tools. The servo motor's shaft was as thick as an adult's arm, while the pendant's central gear was smaller than a coin. Meshing them directly was impossible.
Clang-whirr! I fired up the ultra-precision CNC lathe. I chucked a tungsten carbide hexagonal rod and began machining a "special adapter coupling" to perfectly link the motor's massive shaft to the pendant's tiny gear tooth-for-tooth, without a micron of error.
Metal shavings flew everywhere, hot cutting oil spraying. Behind my safety goggles, my eyes locked only on the blueprint dimensions.
"Not even a single micrometer of play. If the shaft misaligns, the pendant will shred itself."
Incredibly, I finished machining the adapter in just 30 minutes and bolted it securely to the servo motor's shaft. Then I slammed an industrial vise into the lab floor with anchor bolts and clamped the pendant inside, padding it with rubber to avoid scratches. The motor's adapter meshed perfectly with the pendant's wind-up gear like interlocking cogwheels.
"Setup complete."
I wiped sweat from my drenched face with my sleeve and stood before the motor's control panel. My fingers trembled. This was pure insanity—a gamble that could blow the entire university lab sky-high.
But my mind held only Aila and the Peluah factory.
"Let's go."
Click. I powered on the main switch and slowly turned the dial.
Vrrrroooom! A heavy rumble shook the lab floor as power surged into the massive servo motor.
5,000 RPM. The motor spun, forcing the adapter to wind the pendant's central spring like a maniac.
Screeech-grind! The pendant screamed as its internal gears whirled at speeds too fast to see, residual images blurring. At the same time, faint blue light began seeping from its seams.
"Yes, it's working! Crank it higher!"
I twisted the dial hard. 10,000 RPM. 15,000 RPM!
VeeeeeEEEE! A high-pitched whine like tearing air filled the lab. The blue light intensified, heat haze warping the space like a dimensional rift forming.
But just before the gate opened, the pendant revealed its true power. The overwhelming "dimensional resistance" of reverse-jumping to that pre-explosion spacetime converted into physical load, throttling the motor like mad.
"Nngh...!"
The control panel blared warnings. The motor's RPM plummeted forcibly, amperage spiking wildly as it strained. Current surged, the thick power cable writhing like a snake, acrid burning smell wafting from the motor coils as black smoke billowed.
"No! If the motor stops now, it's all over!"
Then—pop, flick. The lab's fluorescent lights flickered violently.
"Damn it!"
The building's main distribution panel was detecting the servo motor's abnormal overcurrent as a fire risk and about to trip the breakers. If power cut, it was done. Motor stops, gate closes forever.
"Who the hell said you could cut the power?!"
Eyes rolled back in frenzy, I snatched insulated rubber gloves and pliers, sprinting to the massive main distribution panel on the lab wall.
Clunk! I flung open the iron door. The huge magnetic breaker was boiling hot from overload, seconds from tripping.
All sense of an engineer's "safety protocols" had evaporated from my mind. I stood before the thousands of volts in three-phase AC lines that would char me to coal on contact.
"Do or die. Bypass!"
I ripped out the breaker's safety circuit with pliers, smashing it, then jammed the thick main live wires directly into the motor controller wiring—a straight short.
All building power, safety devices gutted, pouring solely into that one motor. Madness.
Kraaack! Fsssh! Blue sparks erupted from the panel, singeing my coveralls, but I held the wires down.
"Spin! Spin harder! Please!!"
With safeties gone, the servo motor roared like it would explode. 20,000 RPM!
Ruuuumble! The motor casing glowed cherry-red, flames licking. Seconds until the coils melted and shorted.
A massive crack finally split the dimensional wall crushing the pendant.
"Open!!"
I clutched the sparking panel, tears streaming, screaming bloody murder.
"Before Aila, my factory, my steel monster get blown away—I have to go back! Send me to Peluah!!!"
My ruthless greed to shred this world's trade routes, fused with engineering yearning—that explosive mental energy resonated perfectly with the physical kinetic force of the power-devouring, rampaging motor.
Ziiiiing----!! BOOM!!!
The high-output servo motor finally shattered in a deafening explosion—and simultaneously, a blinding blue flash from the vise-clamped pendant devoured even the sun.
"Arrrgh!"
The light engulfed me, the engineering lab shattering like glass. All senses hurled into weightless void.
And then.
Hiss—CRACK!!
Vision snapped back instantly, a bone-chilling metal rupture tearing at my eardrums. Scorching heat searing flesh, acrid stench of steam.
"S-Sir! The boiler wall! The plates are ripping!"
"Everyone evacuate! It's gonna blow! Get down!"
The desperate shout burst from my lips. I dangled, gripping the boiling control cockpit's main valve with both hands.
Before my eyes stretched that horrific scene from moments before leaving Peluah—paused perfectly, without a fraction's deviation. Two-inch-thick iron plates bulging, seam grease melting, hundreds of degrees of steam spewing—the exact "0.1 seconds before" boiler fragments flew everywhere!
"I'm... back."
I tightened my grip on the valve, baring teeth in a feral grin amid the impending flames.
"Elpansooo—!"
Aila's tear-streaked face, screaming as she charged toward me.