Ren looked down at the fruit in his hand, a small, softly glowing object said to grant extraordinary power—a power that sounded almost unfair. And yet, he felt no hunger or ambition to claim it. From the very beginning, the power of Material Transmutation hadn't been something he wished for—it was simply something he had been born with. And so, he used it only as needed.
If he had a choice, Ren would rather use his own hands, his own mind. He found more satisfaction in the results of his hard work: designing, shaping, and building technology with his own hands. It wasn't about efficiency—it was about freedom and creativity.
"I see," Ren murmured, looking once more at the fruit with a faint, unreadable smile.
"Mmm!" Fia chirped brightly, swinging her body in midair. "Mama said she wants to give that to you!"
"Mama?" Ren tilted his head, puzzled. "Who do you mean by 'Mama'?"
