Klaus looked toward the doorway where Francisco stood and asked with a curious frown,"Who are you looking for? Classes begin on the fifteenth, so you can't be a new student. And I don't remember seeing you before."

Francisco glanced around the workshop—scattered parts everywhere, unfinished machines, and even a small forge in the back where metal components were being shaped. Then he answered politely,"My name is Francisco Gómez. I am a new student in Natural Philosophy, but I'm not here for class. I came because the director—"

Klaus raised an eyebrow. The boy's neat appearance, fine clothes with traces of silk, and the cross around his neck told him he was wealthy and, despite the German-looking features, likely from a Catholic country—probably Spain.

Speaking more cautiously now, he asked,"Are you that Francisco? The one they say is General Krüger's son?"

Francisco blinked in surprise."You know who I am? Or… have we met before?"

Klaus shook his head."You're a bit famous around here, you know. Director Christian spoke about you even before you arrived. Especially because your grandfather retired in exchange for a letter of recommendation from the King of Prussia so you could come. Many were surprised—everyone thought he would die in his post or in one of those wars Prussians love involving themselves in. The director also warned us not to mess with you… unless we wanted to end up dead at the hands of your grandfather's soldiers."

Francisco chuckled."Well, he already left for New Granada with those soldiers, so I guess there's not much deterrence left in that warning."

Klaus gave him a long, evaluating look and sighed."You look far too weak to be the grandson of that giant of a man. Amazing though—you have his eyes."

Francisco smiled."He told me the same. And trust me, I suffered while he was here. He tried very hard to make me stronger."He laughed lightly at the memory.

Klaus gestured toward the half-assembled machine behind him."All right, kid. Tell me what you need. If we can help, we will—but I'm not promising anything. This project we're working on is extremely important for Hanover."

Francisco's curiosity got the better of him."What's the issue? I saw one of these engines in Britain. Maybe I can help."

Klaus shook his head."I doubt it. We already know the problem: casting. I don't know how the hell they do it, but the machines they use for precision are incredibly advanced. Replicating them is nearly impossible—not just because of patents, but because the investment would be enormous."

Francisco frowned slightly."And you need that level of precision because…?"

Klaus straightened up and wiped a fine brass gear with a cloth."Because of the condenser. That's Watt's trick—his true stroke of genius. The cylinder must stay hot so it doesn't waste energy, but the steam needs to condense instantly in a separate cold chamber. For it to work, we need an almost perfect seal."

He tapped the blueprint on the table."If the piston doesn't have an absolute seal with the cylinder walls, cold air sneaks in or steam escapes before condensing. That destroys the vacuum we're trying to create—and the vacuum is what actually drives Watt's engine efficiently."With our cast cylinders, full of pores and wide tolerances, we can't maintain that seal. Every leak is coal money burning away. That's why our engines are inferior."

Francisco, who had been listening intently, gently tapped the piston and cylinder blueprint with his finger. His voice was calm, carrying that peculiar colonial accent.

Francisco:"Herr Klaus, if the problem is that metal cannot fit metal without Wilkinson's machine… why insist on a rigid metal solution? Why not use the imperfection itself to create the perfect seal?"

Klaus blinked, baffled."What nonsense are you talking about? You can't seal steam pressure with rags."

Francisco shook his head."No, not rags—ingenuity. Their precision is in the cylinder; ours can be in the piston. If the cylinder has imperfections, then the piston must adapt to those imperfections. We design the piston head in segments."

Klaus frowned harder."Segments? For what purpose?"

Francisco:"For a flexible packing. Instead of a solid metal seal, we use that gap—the groove you mentioned—to pack fine hemp or soft leather saturated with animal fat. And the key: we fit the piston with small adjustment screws, or a simple system of wedges or springs.Whenever the steam power drops because of leakage, the segments will press that packing outward, conforming to the cylinder wall. The seal becomes self-adjusting.We don't need Wilkinson's boring mill. We bypass the need entirely."

Klaus froze. The workshop fell silent around them. His skepticism warred with the spark of something dangerous—possibility.

He murmured under his breath:"…A packing that adjusts to leaks… a living seal."

Then, like a cannon firing, he slapped Francisco's shoulder with both hands.

"Amazing! With this we might finally reach London's level—and prove to those arrogant bastards that we can build great machines too."His eyes gleamed with a fire the students had never seen before."You begin studying on the fifteenth, right? Good. I expect you to come here. We can teach you much—and your strange ideas may help us surpass London one day."

The students behind him stared at Francisco with a mix of shock, envy, and resentment. Winning over Klaus with a single idea was something none of them had managed.

Francisco blushed, flustered."I don't think it's that amazing. I just thought that instead of following someone else's path, we might look for a new one. And we're not even sure it will work—it might fail. It's embarrassing to take credit before testing it."

The students subtly nodded at that cautious humility.But Klaus shook his head.

"Listen, kid. Most great inventions began as just an idea. From Heron of Alexandria and his little toy, to Newcomen, and now James Watt—each only had a thought. And because of that, we have the steam engine today.If this works—even if you never reach their level—your idea may set a precedent future scholars will study."

He rested a heavy hand on Francisco's shoulder again, this time almost reverently.

"Never underestimate a good idea."

Francisco didn't know what to say. To him, it was simply a logical idea. Even with his own explanations, it was still theoretical. He worried Klaus might try it and fail—and even though he knew Klaus wouldn't blame him, he didn't want that kind of attention. Still, he replied politely:

"Thank you, Herr Klaus. Honestly, I've always been attracted to machines, so I chose a broad faculty like philosophy precisely so I could come here. I will definitely learn from you."

Klaus smiled gleefully, already considering Francisco his student. Then he turned and glared at the group of students behind him.

"You see this kid? It's his first time here and he already gave me a major idea for the project. And you lot, who've been studying under me for four or five years, still trail behind like useless bums and can't come up with anything new! I want you all to write a report about Francisco's idea."

Then, as if remembering something, he looked back at Francisco with a pleading expression.

"Can I ask you to write a report as well? I'm certain Director Lichtenberg will want to read it. That way I can explain why I've chosen a new approach—and maybe even get more funding." He added the last line with a mischievous grin.

Francisco rolled his eyes but nodded."Don't worry, Professor. I understand. I'll write the report so the whole faculty can read it. But… could you help me with something? I'm planning to form a partnership with the College to build a couple of new factories based on one of my ideas, and I was hoping for your help with the machines."

Klaus nodded, waving a hand dismissively."Of course we can help. We're the best machine builders—maybe not in all of Europe, but at least in the German states you won't find better people. Let me see the blueprints."

Francisco handed over several drawings of the components for the distillation tower. The pieces were all separated; he intended to assemble the internal core himself once the parts were finished. After studying the sheets for a while, Klaus frowned.

"This is some kind of tower… but these internal parts—what are they for?" he asked, puzzled.

"Until I obtain the patent, I can't tell you," Francisco replied. "I hope you understand, Professor."

Klaus shrugged in acceptance. Of course he understood—something that could earn money needed to be protected. Still, his curiosity burned.

"I'll help you make the parts," he said, "but I hope I get to be there when you show everyone what it's for. Or at least tell me." The last part came out as a whisper, though the students still heard it and muttered "Traitor," making Klaus cough awkwardly before remembering he was the teacher.

"What are you all doing? Go draft some blueprints for the living seal! I want good ideas—unless you enjoy failing my class!"

The students, speechless, hurried back to their desks and began writing. Francisco shook his head, chatted a bit more with Professor Klaus, and finally left, planning to spend his last free days with Catalina. After all, he wasn't sure how much time he'd have once the semester began.

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