Albedo's arrival had the effect of a dropped pebble across a still pond: ripples of focused energy spread outward, and everyone at Wangshu Inn felt it.
Klee launched herself at Albedo like a small comet. "BROTHER ALBEDO!!"
He bent, received her hug with a quiet, almost surprised smile, and for a heartbeat the room seemed to soften. Sucrose exhaled like a ship letting its anchor drop. The tension she'd been carrying since leaving Mondstadt dissolved a little.
Albedo's gaze swept the plaster-blackboard behind Takumi where diagrams scribbled in chalk and ink mapped out wheels, rune matrices, a central core marked as Chaos-Inspired Conduit, and a dozen little notes in Takumi's tidy block print: stability, resonance damping, slime-buffer arrays.
"Hello, Mr. Takumi," Albedo said, measured and polite. "First meeting. I see your designs."
Takumi stepped forward, energized. "Thank you for coming so quickly. I—well, it's a lot, but I'll be direct. We want a practical vehicle: safe, serviceable, and powered by a domesticated alchemy core. We can't harvest intact Chaos Devices—impossible and dangerous. But we can imitate their working principle: create a stable, contained energy source and convert controlled output into mechanical motion. You're the right person to design the imitation and the control system."
Albedo read the board, his fingers absentmindedly drawing a line in the air as if tracing a hidden blue line. His expression changed, a small brightening that made Sucrose's knees go weak. "You've sketched a hybrid approach. You leverage elemental conduits and combine them with mechanical transmission. Conceptually… it can be done."
The room held its breath.
Albedo went on, quietly analytical: "Chaos Devices are efficient because they couple an energy loop with an autonomous regulator that resists destabilization. We cannot replicate their full architecture—nor should we—but we can mimic the regulator's role: a reaction-diffusion control lattice, a redundancy matrix for failsafe venting, and a pacing rune to throttle output. If we pair that with an inert mechanical governor, the vehicle will be controllable."
Takumi nodded fast. "Exactly. I want imitation, not replication. Use alchemical latticework to moderate raw output; then mechanical linkages convert rotation to movement. For energy, electro crystals and processed elemental cores—Electro Slime farms—can act as buffer inputs for lighting and low-draw needs. For the main drive, a controlled Chaos-analogue core."
One of Ningguang's alchemists, who had lingered after the general briefing, half-swallowed his surprise and asked the question on everyone's tongue: "Mr. Albedo—how long would such development take if funding and materials were no problem?"
Albedo considered, gaze distant. "Prototype one: three months if everyone works in shifts. That includes a robust testing phase. We'd need stabilized elemental conduits, precision-forged bearings, and a team to iterate the regulator rune lattice. If the lab is stocked and the craftsmen are seconded, three months is optimistic but possible."
Takumi's grin expanded. "Perfect. Keqing will authorize tapping personnel from the Jade Chamber's workshops; Ningguang has already agreed to fund production. Take what you need—materials, forges, smiths. If the vehicle works, we'll scale."
Albedo's eyes flicked to Takumi with something like curiosity, then amusement. "You're generous. Or reckless."
"Both," Takumi allowed. "Depends on the day."
Sucrose, cheeks flushed and held together by both excitement and social anxiety, piped up: "M-Mr. Albedo, I will assist—anything you need. I can run plant-energy assays, test bio-compatibility for slime breeding, and write up stabilizing potion matrices."
Albedo inclined his head. "You'll be useful. Your work on sugar bloom metabolism demonstrated methodical patience. We'll need that."
Klee, meanwhile, had adopted a new posture: proud little demolitions advisor. "And Klee will test the brakes! If they don't work, Klee will make sure they do with a controlled clearance test!"
Sucrose's face drained color. Keqing covered her eyes. Takumi patted Klee's head and said, deadpan, "Controlled."
Albedo's demeanor didn't crack, but a tiny smile appeared. "Controlled is important."
The First Task Assignment
Takumi clapped his hands softly to gather attention. He had a list ready—simple, direct, the way he liked things.
"Albedo, you will head research. Design the imitation regulator and supervise the construction of a test core. Sucrose, coordinate with him on crystalline conductor design and slime breeding tests. Klee—no unsanctioned explosions—but you can assist in controlled tests under supervision. Keqing, ensure Ningguang's craftsmen are seconded as needed. I'll take logistics, procurement, and the system interface."
Keqing's eyes were bright with that strict, efficient fire she often wore when the job mattered. "Consider it done. I'll draft the orders and circulate them."
Albedo tucked a small notebook from his satchel open and began jotting—notations like a schematic language only he seemed to speak. Takumi watched him, pleased. The young alchemist's hands moved like a composer arranging instruments.
"First, we need a chassis," Albedo said aloud as if solving a puzzle. "Something simple: water-resistant wood reinforced with steel ribs—metalwork from Ningguang's smiths. Wheels: layered rubber-slate compounded with resin for grip. Steering and brakes: mechanical calipers with rune-assisted friction modifiers to prevent total loss when the drive overwhelms them."
An older alchemist murmured, "Rune-assisted brakes. Ingenious."
Takumi added, "And the safety envelope: pressure-relief ports and absorption crumple zones. We cannot have runaway cores."
Albedo nodded. "Agreed. And for energy: a twin-buffer arrangement. Primary: an imitation core—an alchemic matrix cage lined with processed electro-crystals. Secondary: a slime-battery bank—Electro Slime harvests contained in insulated casings that feed low-voltage systems like lighting and pumps."
"That handles lighting and base power," Takumi said. "For propulsion, the imitation core's output will be throttled through an alchemic governor into a mechanical flywheel. The flywheel stores burst energy and evens torque to wheels. That will reduce shock loads."
Keqing's arms folded. "So the plan is: core → governor → flywheel → transmission → wheels. Practical. If this works, how do we scale production?"
"Modular design," Albedo said, eyes bright. "Make components swappable. Build a standard core housing. Replicate at scale. Teach smiths the rune inscriptions. The technique should be reproducible without fear."
The Secret System (Takumi's Edge)
When Albedo and the team agreed on specifications, Takumi's mind slid into the quiet admin-of-wonder mode the system loved: the interface where he could draft, conjure small prototypes mentally, and run invisible calculations.
[SYSTEM] — Vehicle Framework v0.1
• Core: Imitation Alchemy Conduit (IAC-α) — lattice-lined housing, passive venting
• Governor: Rune Lattice (RL-2) — manual + auto throttling permitted
• Storage: Flywheel-Accumulator (FA-001) — inertia-stabilized, quick-disconnect
• Safety: Multi-stage pressure venting; slime-banking for low-voltage redundancies
• Materials: Processed electro-crystals, star-iron ribs, resin-slate compound
• Special Note: KLEE-PROOF fail-safe (deployable net + remote cut-off)
Takumi smirked at the last line and kept it for himself. The system blessed a lot of what his previous knowledge suggested—structural redundancies, modular production, and an iterative-test ethic that let prototypes fail small and cheap.
The Prototype Workshop — First Sparks
By sunset the first workshop had been set up in one of Ningguang's temporary fabrication sheds near Wangshu Inn. Forges roared, rune-etching tables glowed, and a small crew of alchemists and smiths bent over metal and crystal.
Albedo stood at a bench with a small metal model suspended in a rune circle, needles and crystal shards arranged like a star map. He showed a handful of smiths how to mark rune lines with a fine chisel and infuse them with a controlled heat.
"Precision," he told them quietly. "Runes are not just symbols; they guide reaction. Too deep and you shatter stability. Too shallow and the lattice won't hold."
The smiths listened. Ningguang's master craftsmen, used to marble and contracts, found the intimacy of rune work strangely poetic. Keqing supervised the logistics—two carts of processed electro-crystals were unloaded, Qianyan Army soldiers guarded the perimeter, and a small contingent of workers organized supplies.
Klee hovered on the edge of the workshop like a small, delighted satellite. Whenever a small test fire popped or a crystal chimed, she clapped, then immediately checked with Albedo and Sucrose whether she could "help" in a meaningful way that never involved pressing the big red lever.
"Not yet," Sucrose whispered, handing Klee a small wheel to clean—an instrumental task that made the child feel part of the team without endangering the team.
Albedo allowed himself a smile. "Good. Participation matters; responsibility too."
Nightfall — Plans in Place, Warnings Given
As dusk painted Guili Plains mauve and the workshops hummed with the day's labor, Takumi gathered Albedo, Keqing, Sucrose, and a few trusted foremen at a quiet table. He spoke softly.
"Two things. First: do not broadcast dangerous elements. This is a civil project, not a new war machine. Ningguang and I will handle permissions. Second: document everything. If we create knowledge, we must teach it carefully."
Albedo nodded. "We will publish internal manuals and train craftsmen. Replication is the route to safety."
Klee, balancing a tiny wrench, grinned. "And I will test brakes later! For safety, of course."
Keqing pinched the bridge of her nose and laughed—half-exasperated, half-humbled. The project was exactly as chaotic and hopeful as she'd hoped Liyue could be. People doing practical things, doing them together.
Sucrose tucked a sheet of notes into her packet, cheeks still pink from the day. "I'll set up the first slime-battery containment test tomorrow—small scale. If we can breed slimes in controlled environments, energy logistics will be easier."
Takumi tapped the blackboard where the first schematic now read like an incantation of progress.
"We start small, iterate fast, and make sure Liyue benefits," he said. "If we do this right, transport will be a tool for people—food moves, markets grow, farmers reach buyers faster, Sucrose's crops reach tables. That's the point."
Albedo's quiet voice folded into the night. "Then we begin in the morning. A test core, a flywheel, a wooden frame. And we make knowledge, not weapons."
Klee raised her hand solemnly, like a knight taking an oath. "Klee promise. No exploding people."
Everyone laughed, because laughter was a little like masonry: it held things together.
Outside, the Guili Plains wind carried the faint scent of timber, crushed stone, and the faint metallic tang of ideas being forged. The model city on the table at the General Affairs Department had just gotten its first engine.
And somewhere in the back of Takumi's head, the system pinged another update—a list of subroutines for manufacturing, for modular training, for sea and trade logistics—as if it were already plotting Liyue's second revolution.
The night was young. The work would be long. The world had already begun to tilt.