Within a month, every academy in the Empire placed standing orders. The Ministry of Records rewrote its procurement contracts. Even the Church of the Eight—known for its distrust of innovation—began copying scriptures onto SK sheets.
Kelrath's docks became a pulsing artery of trade. Boats, carts, and riders carried bales of SK paper across mountains, rivers, and deserts.
Darsha factories buzzed with workers assembling Sharath's presses.
The boy genius had become the founder of an industrial class.
He didn't just sell paper—he sold the means of thinking, of documenting, of governing.
And like the bicycles, the Empire would never return to the age before it