Chapter 64 — The First Drop of Power
S.C. 1510 — Early September
Foosha Village — Underground Shed Lab
Ren stood at the center of his tiny underground room, the faint morning light filtering through the ladder opening. Before him lay an assortment of simple tools:
Copper-stained stream stones
Old iron nails
A clay bowl
A small jar of salt
Makino's leftover vinegar
Thin strips of cloth
A short piece of metal wire he scavenged from a broken fishing hook
Zemo hovered above the entrance, staring down with his ears perked.
"Today should be interesting," Ren murmured.
The underground air was still cool, but the room felt different—expectant.
Mixing the Electrolyte
Ren poured some vinegar into the clay bowl and sprinkled in salt, stirring the mixture with a wooden stick until it dissolved.
The smell was sharp and sour.
"This should increase conductivity…"
He dipped a cloth strip into the mixture, soaking it thoroughly. The cloth would act as the electrolyte bridge.
Zemo sneezed dramatically at the vinegar scent.
Ren chuckled. "I know, I know. It's not pleasant."
Copper and Iron
He picked up the flattest copper-stained stone and scraped off thin flakes with a small iron blade.
The reddish dust clung to his fingers.
"Not pure copper… but it might be enough."
Next, he hammered the old iron nails briefly with a stone to flatten their heads, making them easier to attach to the cloth.
He set the materials side by side on the table.
Copper-like piece.
Cloth soaked in salty vinegar.
Iron nail.
Then he wrapped one end of the wet cloth around the copper piece and the other around the iron nail, pressing tightly to ensure contact.
A very primitive battery.
Ren's heart pounded.
It looked crude… almost laughably simple.
But if even a tiny current flowed—
It would change everything in this little lab.
He reached for the thin wire, wrapped one end around the iron nail and the other around the copper-stained rock.
Zemo lowered his head, staring with intense curiosity.
Ren took a breath.
"Moment of truth."
The First Current
At first, nothing happened.
Ren's shoulders tensed.
Maybe the metal wasn't conductive enough.
Maybe the vinegar wasn't acidic enough.
Maybe he needed purer copper—
Then—
ssssk—
A faint hiss.
Ren leaned in.
A section of the thin wire began to warm.
Barely.
But undeniably.
Tiny heat.
Real.
Steady.
His chest tightened with excitement.
"It's working… It's actually working!"
He held the wire gently.
Warmth spread into his fingertips.
Not enough to burn.
Just enough to prove the battery was generating electricity.
Zemo barked once, startled, then suspiciously sniffed the wire.
Ren gently pushed his nose away. "No biting. It's delicate."
Zemo growled softly, offended.
Ren couldn't stop smiling.
He had done it.
He had made electricity.
Crude, unstable, tiny—but real.
Controlled Heating
Ren placed a small metal dish (hammered flat from an old fishhook) above the warm section of the wire.
The heat rose slowly, spreading evenly across the surface.
He placed a single blade of the strange grass onto the warmed dish.
The test began.
The grass didn't wilt.
Didn't dry.
Didn't scorch.
Instead—
It tightened.
The blade curled slightly, fibers contracting like muscle.
Ren's eyes widened.
"…That's not normal."
He increased the temperature slightly by shortening the wire.
The grass responded again—contracting further, as if trying to conserve something inside.
"It's behaving almost like… it's storing energy."
He didn't say it aloud, but deep inside, he felt a shiver.
This plant was different.
Alive in a different way.
Reacting as if it expected this.
Zemo stared at the curling blade and backed away, hackles rising.
Ren touched the blade with tweezers.
Still firm.
Still elastic.
Still strangely durable.
This reaction gave him ideas—dangerous, exciting ideas.
But he pushed them aside. He wasn't ready to understand this plant fully.
Not yet.
For now—
He needed more tests.
More batteries.
More heat cycles.
Better measurement.
But this…
This was a huge step.
A Strange Noise
Just as Ren cleaned the metal dish, a faint rustling echoed from somewhere above the shed.
Not from the entrance.
Not from outside the shed floorboards.
It came from the roof.
Ren froze.
Zemo's body stiffened instantly.
The fox slipped into the shadows, silent as a ghost.
Ren whispered:
"…Something's here again."
He scrambled up the ladder quietly, pushing the wooden plank aside by only an inch and peeking out.
The forest line was still.
No villagers nearby.
Just the wind.
But the roof?
The straw roof shifted—very slightly.
As if something light had stepped there.
Something watching.
Zemo crouched low, eyes fixed on the movement.
Ren swallowed.
"Not today…" he whispered.
He slowly lowered the plank and stepped back down, heart pounding.
This forest presence had been circling them for days.
And now—
It was getting closer.
End of Chapter 64