"Polo, can I come in?" Ridge called through the door.

   "Of course you can! It's 'may I,' big time." A laugh followed the correction, light and easy. "Nah, nah, I'm no stickler for those things. Come on in, dude."

   Ridge pushed open the door—an odd design requiring a pull from the outside—and stepped into the recreation room. The space radiated warmth, furnished in dark wood with brass accents that gleamed softly under the glow of Edison bulbs encased in intricate fixtures. Their amber light bathed the room, which boasted antique clocks, leather armchairs, and tables with scattered playing cards. Cogs and mechanical curios dotted the shelves alongside foosball and ping-pong tables, dartboards, and board games. Exercise equipment—treadmills, bikes, and dumbbells—occupied one corner, contrasting with the indulgent leisure decor. Cabinets stored games, supplies, snacks, and refreshments, while video game consoles floated midair, suspended by drones that emitted soft whirring and gentle puffs of steam.

   Sonorous music drifted from a green jukebox tucked against the wall, blending seamlessly with the room's lively ambiance. At its heart stood a grand pool table, its leather-lined rails and brass fittings exuding opulence. Pool balls, chalk, a rack, and—curiously—a bag of chips sat upon it.

   A man lingered by the table, his lanky frame wrapped in casual elegance. Black, slightly messy curls framed his face, with a prominent strand cascading down the middle of his forehead. The rest gathered in a high ponytail, though stray locks brushed his upper back. He wore rectangular glasses over brown eyes that gleamed with mischief, a second layer of clear eyewear resting over them, cushioned by blue earpieces. Crumbs clung to his lips and the gloved fingertips of his black gloves. His outfit—a high-collared white-and-blue top cinched with a diagonal chest belt—paired with leg warmers over pants, and his socked feet grounded him in eccentricity.

   This was Polo Swarovski, second-best in the Sensing Snowglobe Decree Giveaway, known for his effortless charm. He tapped his pool stick on the floor and flashed a velvety smile. "What's up, Ridge?"

   "All is well, Polo," Ridge replied, stepping forward.

   "Good, good." Polo's free hand dove into the bag of chips, his grin unfaltering. "So, what brings you here? You don't come to play often."

   Ridge wagged a finger, his tone dry but teasing. "I never come here to play. You ought to know that. You built this place—just like you built most of Haven's entertainment and culture."

   "You don't gotta do me like that," Polo laughed, dipping his head. The chip in his gloved hand hovered midair before finally meeting his mouth. He shrugged. "I don't know, man. Thought you'd wanna play on a whim—or just relax before diving back into the grind of machinery mechanic work."

   Ridge chuckled faintly, placing a hand over his chest to touch his pocket watch. "I just wanted to see you after the Sensing Snowglobe Decree. Good job snagging 213 awards."

   "Thanks. Right back at you with 254 awards," Polo said, tapping his temple with a finger and grinning. "Yep, I still remember."

   Polo's gaze flitted to Ridge's pocket watch as he polished off the bag of chips. "That's a nice-looking Aptem, big time. Very—" He gestured a chef's kiss, "—exquisite."

   Ridge forced a breezy laugh, shuffling his feet. Then, with a wag of his finger, he revealed his true intentions. "Remember when I created that Magic 8-Ball for you? You owe me something."

   Polo raised a brow, tossing the empty chip bag aside. His stance shifted into a pool player's pose, his stick inching toward the cue ball. "Yeah... you want me to pay that favor back now?"

   "Yes, and in the simplest way possible."

   Polo hummed, eyeing the pool balls one by one. A sharp crack followed as he struck the cue ball, triggering a domino reaction. Several balls clattered across the table, two sinking smoothly into pockets. He chopped the air triumphantly before turning to Ridge. "Simple or not, just say the word. I'll do it, big time. As my siblings would say, "When they throw a favor, catch it with fervor." " 

   Ridge pressed his lips together, feigning consideration. "I just need you to tell me where the Havenian governors keep their confidential tools and mechanisms. You've visited it before—thanks to your position as Minister of Entertainment, yes?"

   Polo's brows knit together as he rested his chin on his pool stick. His gaze drifted to the side, hesitation writ across his face. "Ah, yes, but... I don't know if I can do that. It's... sorta not allowed."Ridge chuckled and tilted his head sideways, "Knowing you Polo Swarovski, I'm sure you can mend a rule or two when necessary."

   One man with his red nose buried into the jackaroo board scoffed, "Polo, why don't you ignore that boy? The second medal effect shakes people to their bones. It's natural to let that effect affect you, so no need to pretend that it's not by being helpful. Take my word for it."

   Polo laughed heartily and looked at the man while resting both his hands on his pool stick.
"Come on, man. You know what they say, falcons of a feather flock together. We're all good here."

   "But, mister minister Swarovski! You are a programming genius, an entertainment mastermind, a video game expert, and a man of culture," said another man with shrewd eyes and a tank top with baggy steampunk overalls. He pointed at Ridge in an accusatory way.
"And he's just a selfish dude who invents shit no one uses except for himself and his ass!"

   Polo clicked his tongue and took the magic eight ball from the cabinet side of the pool table.
"You know, if it weren't for Ridge and his flair for inventions, this recreation room along with other forms of entertainment would have never been introduced to Haven. I put the fork in the road and became who I am today. I was so indecisive when it came to choosing being a lawyer or what I am great at today. All because of an invention Ridge gave me."

   Polo flourished the magic eight ball while leaning against his pool stick. "He created this for me, which is super useful if you are an indecisive guy like me. It's not only about odds, but also about how you feel about a certain option." He whirled on Ridge and smiled. "Kinda like the Sensing Snowglobe." He turned back to the rest while pushing himself off the support of the pool stick. "So I owe him a ton, and the rest is history."

   Covering his mouth to yawn, Polo shook the magic eight ball. He scratched his hair and looked down at the magic eight ball. He smiled and looked at Ridge, who was busying himself with his pocketwatch while eyeing Polo with a bored expression. Polo said,
"Good news for you, dude. I asked the ball if I could leak the place to you, and it was like 'yes, man,' so here goes!"

   Ridge perked up and stared at Polo expectantly. Polo motioned for him to come closer, so Ridge stepped forward while raising his brows. Polo set the pool stick on the floor while returning the magic eight ball to the side cabinet. He tapped the floor with the pool stick and uttered, "It's in Alula, directly west to the Primary Coverts wing. And no, Alula is not only the place where the governors have their meetings and yadda yadda. They also retain super secretive tools they use mostly for their professional outings to Nevah and get resources from there."

   Ridge smirked. "Checkmate." He then said aloud while wagging his finger, "And how can I get to Alula?"

   "Actually forgot, man. Ask the dudette who draws maps. Your childhood friend, argh, what was her name?" Polo snapped his fingers and furrowed his brows as he tried to remember. "May, no, Macy, Marla—"

   "Right, right. Mavis Bensleigh." Ridge refrained from scoffing and rolling his eyes. He respected Polo a lot; in fact, Polo Swarovski was one of the people he could put up with alongside the Lema twins. But his careless antics bothered him at times.

   Polo gave Ridge a thumbs up before returning to his pool game. He asked while tapping the cue ball with the pool stick, "Why do you wanna go there anyway?"

   "Inspiration purposes," Ridge answered as he already started exiting the recreation room. However, the two men who defended Polo from earlier walked menacingly towards him. Ridge stopped by the door and looked at them over his shoulder. He glanced at his pocketwatch and saw that the hand was only at 5 riskons.

   "Next time you swing by, bring your Sensing Snowglobe with you," the red-nosed man said while glaring at Ridge.

   Ridge furrowed his brows. "Why is that?"

   "Because from now on, only Havenians with official careers get to be in this recreation room," the same man responded. The other man's shrewd eyes spoke curiosity before he asked,
"How will you get past the heavy security to Alula? Do you have a plan?"

   Ridge smiled while still remaining callous. "As you know, I am an industrial machinery mechanic. I can wheedle my way into Alula by telling them that I simply want inspiration for the tools they use conventionally."

   The man snickered.

   "Easier said than done."

   "Yes, I am aware of that. But I can still convince them to let me peek by explaining my idea on renovating current inventions and incorporating more compelling gadgets into our lives. I will even tell them to keep an eye on me as I visit Alula."

   The sold men backtrack, letting Ridge take his exit. As soon as Ridge held the door handle, the door opened outwardly by Ivan Pelet. Ridge blinked as he stepped aside while Ivan's pumpkin mouth upturned to an apologetic and goofy smile as he entered the room while holding sock puppets, looking at Ridge then at Polo. Ridge finally left the room, but with newfound intrigue. Ivan could be heard saying, "The look on the kidsters' faces when I told them about that Nevah apocalypse story. They were to die for!"

   Polo could be heard laughing then saying, "Dude Ivan. You should stop it with your fascination with Nevah, big time."

   "Fine...but I still believe my dadster's out there. Oh boyster! Had to pull out that "my son is doing pretty well so I'll just head out" pass." Ivan could be heard laughing like a chicken. Ridge blinked and started walking towards the Scapulars Wing again as the recreation room was in the Secondaries Wing, right under the Scapulars. For some reason, he tried wrapping his head around Ivan's enigma. Was it because they had almost the identical jackets? Maybe that respect he had for Polo and the Lena twins could be sparked for that fellow Ivan. It's hard to get on Ridge's good side, after all. Even Mavis was never a tad bit taken seriously by him.

   Speaking of which, Ridge had made it to Mavis's room and was yet again asking, "Mavis, can I come in?"

   "Okay, okay, Ridge. One second." A few ruffled noises are accompanied by that. The door clicks and it opens, revealing a beaming Mavis with her arms outstretched. Ridge exposes his palm as a gesture of objection to the unspoken offer for a hug and looks at the room. It was dimly lit with different wallpapers that blend in very nicely. The centerpiece was a large drafting table cluttered with parchment maps, compasses, and other tools. He could see a brass sextant, an astrolabe, and a spyglass displayed. There were inkewells with quills as well as a magnifiying glass on an articulated arm. Shelves of leather books on geography lined the walls. Globes of different sizes, some with clockwork mechanists, rotated slowly under glass donned. Posters of models of airships were seen everywhere. Ridge's eyes lingered on a large multi-paneled map of Thear, detailing known territories and uncharted lands. Jazz music was played by Mavis's personalized jukebox.

   Mavis raised a brow, "Heyi, Ridge. Finally got back to your senses?"

   Without warning, Ridge squeezed through to enter the room and wagged his finger at the multi-paneled map, "Mavis, oh Mavis...this is really important. Forget about how foolish I was yesterday. I changed on a whim. This industrial machinery mechanic work has grown on me. I just need to go to Alula where they keep displays of tools and mechanisms so I can take inspiration."

   Mavis was stunned by Ridge's sudden announcement and apparent interest in going to Alula. She turned around and said, "Wait, Alula? That's the place where the government holds congresses, no?"

   "No, you idiot! That's another place. Alula is known for being the government's warehouse of Haven. How can you not know that?" Ridge laughed incredulously.

   Feeling sheepish, Mavis chuckled nervously while tightening her ponytail, "Ok, forget about my ignorance. What you now want is the map, yeah?"

   "Yes, and I want you to accompany me for the time being. I can't read maps." Ridge was lying through his teeth. He just wanted Mavis as bait to distract the guards there.

   Mavis nodded excitedly and sprinted to the table and took a map. With the map in the ready, she darted out of the room, motioning for Ridge to follow. Ridge did as beckoned but in a slower pace as he let his eyes linger on the multi panelled map. He saw that the barren space east to Haven is supposedly Nevah. There were no marked areas except for the whole half labeled Nevah. Ridge had sensed that Mavis was also interesting in Nevah, but she never explicitly admitted it.

   After returning to Ridge's room to take his Sensing Snowglobe followed by lots of tramcar riding and trekking, the two entered the Alula territory. There was an imposing manor surrounded by fog and brown trees. The area was landscaped beautifully yet securely as there were gardens, fountains, and surveillance camera attatched to blimps. Ridge could spot retina recognition devices and patrol automatons from afar. Mavis tightened her ponytail and bent down. She whispered while staying low, "Say, how do we get in there? Have you any plan?"

   "Have you any patience?" Ridge clicked his tongue and rubbed his pocketwatch underneath his jacket. He did not feel it pulsate, which meant that there was no danger lying around and ahead of them. To Mavis's shock, he started walking casually to the double doors guarded by two guards in black security coats wearing bronze goggles with a lamp and intricate gadget fixture in one of the lens, "You stay here, and I'll go and ask if I can take a look at their gadgets."

   Mavis watched Ridge go with her mouth hanging open. She tried screaming in a low voice, but she ended up shouting, "Heyi, Ridge! They won't let you inside!"

   Both guards were attracted by the commotion and strutted near where Ridge and Mavis stood. Ridge halted his steps and bowed shallowly to them while showing his Sensing Snowglobe. "Hello. I came here from the Machinery Mechanic Industry-" He interrupted himself by exhaling and shaking his head at Mavis, "that's a mouthful." He continued didactically,  "-to report something as a righteous Havenian." He gestured toward the red-faced Mavis. "My friend here illegally marked this confidential place on her map. She is holding the last sample of the map with the true pathway to Alula."

   Mavis's jaw dropped, and she cradled her map to her chest. "Ridge, why would—"

   "Stay here, young lady." Both guards accosted Mavis as she glanced back and forth between them. Meanwhile, Ridge nonchalantly continued walking toward the front door of the manor with his Sensing Snowglobe ready. The automatons with continuous tracks moved past him. He towed one along by its bronze ribcage as he reached the double doors. Setting it beside him, he kneeled down and brandished the Sensing Snowglobe.

   "I am Ridge Kindler, from the Machinery Mechanic Industry. I came here to inspect the tools used as references for my own mechanisms. I'd like you to accompany me so you can trust that I will only look at them and will not take pictures or smuggle anything."

   The automaton beeped as it processed Ridge's words and replied in a robotic voice, "Sensing Snowglobe scanned. Access to gadget storage room granted."

   A smile graced Ridge's lips. His plan was coming to fruition.

   "It's a good thing these automatons only scan the semblance of Sensing Snowglobes. Only Boon can scan the insides," Ridge thought as he let go of the automaton. It automatically opened the door with its intricate mechanism and rolled away. Ridge followed it, taking in his surroundings. The hallway was adorned with artwork, artifacts, and mini statues of the Wing Monument in Falcon Plaza.

   They entered a room with fortified workbenches holding an array of devices, tools, and gadgets Ridge had never seen before. He could see communication interceptors of various forms, encrypted surveillance equipment used by the guards, and other high-tech tools tinted bronze and black. They were unlike the ones displayed in the corridors of the Secondary Coverts Wing. They weren't showy or ostentatious, nor were they superficial or repetitive. Each had a unique air about it—perhaps literally, as some emitted steam.

   One of them was a brass-accentuated printer with mechanical components sticking out. It had a control panel on the left side with a blue backlit LCD screen above a large knob and a memory stick port. On the right side were two analog pressure gauges. At the center, the expelled mechanism of the printer was visible, with a red nozzle where the filament was extruded.

   Ridge asked the automaton about the significance of the printer, as it was the only device occupying an entire workbench. Its reply made Ridge's eyes widen: "It is the specialized printer programmed to extrude the filament with the QR code for the exit to the Outdoors."

   Ridge hummed and looked around. His eyes narrowed at the visible cameras mounted on the ceilings and the lockers along the walls. There could be hidden cameras, but the only way to find out was to detect them efficiently. Ridge held the pocket watch firmly, feeling it with his fingers as he pretended to inspect the gadgets—which, if he was being honest, were fascinating.

   The pocket watch pulsated against his palm and fingers. His gaze shifted to the Sensing Snowglobe, or Riskometer, noticing the snow particles levitate and the clock tower rotate several times. Nodding slightly to himself, his calculative eyes scanned the workbenches. "I guess I'll have to discreetly test that printer."

   Ridge stepped forward, eye level with the printer. Hypotheses began forming around the printer in his mind. He set the Sensing Snowglobe beside it on the workbench and slowly removed his pocket watch. Looking over his shoulder at the automaton with raised brows, he placed the pocket watch with a small jig next to the Snowglobe and said nonchalantly, "I removed my Aptem, a pocket watch, so you don't have to worry about hidden cameras taking pictures."

   The automaton beeped and nodded, giving Ridge the green light to observe as he pleased. Smirking, Ridge turned back to the printer and folded his arms behind his back while peering at it. He stood on his tiptoes, shifting occasionally. Wagging his finger at the screen, he grabbed the ruffle of his shirt with his other hand and began ostensibly wiping it. The automaton didn't question him; instead, its bronze tech eyes drilled into his back.

   Ridge mumbled as he "cleaned" the screen. Under the ruffle of his shirt, a memory stick was clipped. He made sure to bring it for good measure—he suspected the governors used some kind of storage tool as the key to exiting Nevah. Stealthily, he plugged it into the port beneath the screen. Luckily, his constant mumbling served to drown out the printer's chime.

   Heat prickled Ridge's face as tension built before it could overwhelm him. Slowly, he rotated the knob until a file labeled "MISC" appeared on the screen. "Careful now. One flimsy move, and you'll end up Lema'd or Mavis'd by some falcon-masked or goggled man."

   Now that the QR code data was attainable, Ridge rotated the knob with the same precision he used for his pocket watch. The transfer was successful, much to Ridge's buried relief. He clipped the memory stick back into his shirt after finishing "cleaning" the screen.

   Turning to the automaton with a pretense of astonishment, he grinned as he adjusted the ruffle like a bow tie. "The government really pushed boundaries with this one. My heart goes out to them and the inventors of this magnificent tool. May I know who invented it?"

   The automaton momentarily beeped before replying, "Mister Quenten Oppen. He was the mastermind behind gadgets used by governors for their expedient outings to Nevah."

   Ridge nodded in satisfaction and moved away from the workbench. Wagging his finger at himself, he thought, "I feel like I'm forgetting something...ah yes, a way to get to the bridge." Clicking his tongue, he walked backward to the workbench. He grabbed his Sensing Snowglobe and resumed wandering around the room. "No, it's the Riskometer, idiot."