An unbelievably blue sky. A garden of otherworldly flora. And conversations with the mad scientist. These were the highlights of Arthur’s next few weeks at the Third Keep of the Carrington Castle, unofficially called Shaw’s Lab. He was a prisoner—his prison was just absurdly large, encompassing the whole keep along with the attached garden and various functional buildings.

  A knock came from the door. He was still living in the room he had first woken up in. It had been furnished further, and even a window had been made through some means he had witnessed but didn’t understand. The incident involved a man about as old as Arthur and a box made of solid gold, engraved with symbols and letters he couldn’t decipher. The man looked like he could win a bodybuilding championship just by stumbling into the room, yet had the most dexterous fingers. He made some markings on the wall, took some measurements, and then threw the golden box into the wall.

  The box unexpectedly didn’t just bounce off; instead, it sank into the wall as if it were made of jelly. The box started vibrating, and the stone in the wall melted, reshaping itself into an intricate window. The man plucked the golden box from where it hovered in the center of the brand-new window. Baffled, Arthur reached out to touch the window and was surprised to find it was real. He tried to ask how the man had done it, but Grenshaw intervened.

  “That will be all, Dain. Thank you for your service. I’m sure you’re busy. I’ll answer any questions Mr. Arthur has.”

  “As you say, Master Grenshaw. I’ll see you at the defense restructure meeting tomorrow.”

  “Who would have thought the president of the Magic Society would be a cheapskate?” Arthur grumbled once Dain was gone, closing the door behind him.

  “As I’ve said before—an answer for an answer. Equal trade. Isn’t that something of a popular ideal in your world?” Grenshaw replied with a smug look.

  “It is a popular ideal, yes. But a trade is rarely equal, if ever, and that’s true everywhere.”

  “Shall we start our session?”

  Asmirala wasn’t a spy or an assassin, but that never stopped her from sneaking into places she shouldn’t and listening to conversations not meant for her. Being a princess, 24th in the line of succession, she felt her future was invariably set in stone—as trade goods in a political marriage. There had only ever been a single case of someone this far down the hierarchy inheriting the throne, and Asmirala never wanted to do what her predecessor had done. Just learning about the False King had sickened her for hours.

  Asmirala had seen the moment Arthur arrived in this world. She had seen him around the Third Keep. After Grenshaw and a few members of the Magic Society, she probably knew the most about Arthur and the world he came from. Today, like all the other days, she found herself in the vicinity of Arthur and Grenshaw’s sessions. Using some basic sensory enhancement magic and physical presence suppression, she was able to get close enough to listen in.

  Grenshaw knew, of course. But if he cared, I wouldn’t still be here.

  She was fascinated by Arthur’s stories and his world—a world that, despite having no magic, could create cities spanning tens of kilometers, connect the entire globe, and fly.

  Asmirala really wanted to fly by herself. But flight magic was notoriously hard to learn, and getting a pegasus coach for anything other than royal events was too expensive, even for her. She focused her hearing as the session started.

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  “So last time we were talking about the level of technology in your world, and you mentioned something called a ‘train.’ They are metal carriages, you said?”

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “And they are powered by trapped lightning?”

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  “Are you sure your world doesn’t have magic? You aren’t someone who just happens to be completely unaware of your own world, are you?”

  Arthur sighed. In hindsight, it should have been obvious. Magic was something Arthur was familiar with as a fictional concept, so while astonished, he could easily call anything he didn’t understand magic. A fireball in Grenshaw’s hand was about the same level of magical as the self-forming window he saw Dain create. But for Grenshaw, a world without magic was simply unbelievable—like imagining a universe without the fundamental forces of reality.

  “I have said it before and will say it again—no magic was used in the creation or operation of anything I am talking about.”

  “Fascinating. We’ll get back to this ‘train’ and ‘electricity,’” Grenshaw said, making a note in his notebook. “For now, I need a deeper understanding of what your job was. You said you were an engineer? What does that work entail?”

  Arthur began recounting his life—starting as a mechanical engineer for a startup that grew exponentially as the 3D printing market boomed. The company, Print4D, was among the first to make 3D printing affordable for retail customers. Arthur described joining the company as a stroke of luck that changed his life completely. He tried to explain the whole concept of school, college, and a common career path, but Grenshaw grasped 3D printers much faster than the education system.

  “Okay, I understand that you control this pen that ejects molten substance and creates any shape you want. But what I don’t understand is how you could have resources for everyone to just study for 10 to 15 years without producing any value. Is your society the kind where there is no ruling person and everyone just lives as a community with shared resources?”

  “It’s complicated. We do have societies like that, called communist or socialist societies. I’m not sure if those two are different or not—I wasn’t really a social science student. But in general, we have democracies, which ideally means people choosing their own leaders from among a self-volunteered group. The government then tries to provide people with basic necessities, along with compulsory primary education almost everywhere, which in turn produces a skilled labor force—each of whom produces more value than unskilled labor.”

  “That makes sense—at least theoretically. I have to say, when you said your world didn’t have magic, my heart almost dropped. You wouldn’t believe how many resources were spent on summoning you here. I was hoping someone would arrive with knowledge of either advanced magic or at least a different magic system I could study and use to further our own. But you have already advanced our stagnant knowledge about the physical world by decades.”

  “I’m glad I wasn’t a waste of your resources, Mr. Prime Mage. Now, can I leave this castle? You’ve only given me bits and pieces about this world, yet it already feels amazing—flying islands, underground cities, mermaids, and even dragons. I really have to see those. And this isn’t Camelot.”

  “That’s the country whose king’s name you share—”

  “Fictional country.”

  “That’s the fictional country whose king’s name you share?” Grenshaw repeated with a snide tone.

  “Yup, and this ain’t it, my man.”

  Being transported to another world and given another life free of disease had made Arthur’s personality a jarring mix of seriously hardened and comically gleeful.

  “You’ll be let out when I say so. In the meantime, if you don’t have any more questions, let’s consider this session completed.”

  “No, wait. I have questions. Tell me where I can find dragons, and can. I. ride. one? Also—can I do magic? Once I have my freedom, I really want to fly, one way or another.”

  A passing maid almost heard Asmirala’s giggle.

  This Arthur is such an improper man. Almost feels like another Grenshaw—somehow more annoying and less power-hungry.

  As far as Asmirala knew, anyone could learn magic. It wasn’t easy—it required a lot of study and definitely some talent and instinct—but the basic tier-one elemental spells were commonplace. She couldn’t wait to see what kind of magic Arthur would learn.

  Soon, Grenshaw stepped out of Arthur’s room. He turned to look in her direction, gave a small bow, then left.

  Asmirala was reconsidering who was more annoying.

  She was about to leave—after waiting a little, so as not to look too suspicious—when suddenly, she heard Arthur speak in a surprised tone.

  “Who are you?? Why do you look like me?”