The Iron Goose rumbled down the uneven dirt road, cloaked under its imperfect stealth mode — headlights still flickering now and then like a broken rave machine.
Inside, Kai gripped the wheel, eyes glued to the new ManaNav holographic map while G.A.I.L. prattled away in the background.
"Please be advised: local customs prohibit vehicular manslaughter within town limits."
"That's a real law?" Kai muttered.
"It had to be," G.A.I.L. said ominously.
In the distance, he spotted a collection of crooked stone walls, colorful banners fluttering, and rooftops made of straw and crooked shingles. Beyond that, farmland stretched endlessly under the double suns.
A crooked wooden sign swung over the road, barely hanging onto its post:
[ Welcome to Forkroot ]
Population: shrug emoji scratched into the wood
"Forkroot," Kai read aloud. "Sounds like a town where everyone's missing teeth."
As he rolled closer, two figures jumped out from behind a flimsy gate: a guard in rusty armor and a gatekeeper who looked like a medieval tax accountant.
Both waved frantically for him to stop.
Kai mashed the brakes and skidded into place — tires kicking up a dramatic cloud of dust that swallowed the gatehouse whole.
When it cleared, the guard coughed violently, armor rattling.
"Declare your species, occupation, and reason for entry!" the guard barked, trying to sound tough while hacking up dust bunnies.
Kai rolled down the window.
"Uh... human? Mechanic? Lost?" he offered.
The gatekeeper scribbled furiously onto a scroll with a feather quill. He looked up, squinting through spectacles that made his eyes look three sizes too big.
"You... arrived in a CARRIAGE OF WAR," the gatekeeper said suspiciously, pointing at the Goose's mana turret.
"Nah, nah," Kai said quickly. "Strictly recreational!"
"Recreational what?!"
"Recreational defense," Kai said, nodding seriously. "For hobbies."
The two officials stared blankly.
Inside the cab, G.A.I.L. muttered dryly, "Your lie-to-truth ratio is approaching catastrophic levels."
Kai ignored her and rummaged under his seat, eventually producing a slightly squashed granola bar.
He held it out like a peace offering.
"First-time traveler gift?" he tried.
The gatekeeper sniffed the granola bar suspiciously. "...Is this some kind of enchanted ration?"
"It's got almonds," Kai said.
Apparently that was enough.
The guard took the bar reverently, bit into it, and his eyes widened like he'd seen God.
"Sweet… tree nut mana..." he whispered.
Without further protest, they swung open the gates.
"Welcome to Forkroot, traveler!" the gatekeeper beamed, crumbs falling from his beard.
Kai grinned and cruised in.
Forkroot was everything Kai imagined a small fantasy town would be:
Cobblestone streets full of potholes.Merchants yelling about magic tomatoes.Children chasing enchanted chickens that occasionally exploded into harmless sparks.A bard in the corner trying — and failing — to sing about "The Ballad of Steve the Unremarkable."
The Iron Goose, meanwhile, attracted immediate attention.
Villagers peered out from windows and doorways, whispering.
A woman dropped a basket of weird purple potatoes. A goat fainted dramatically.
Kai decided parking was probably wise before someone tried to "bless" the truck with goat blood or something.
He pulled up to a lopsided inn called "The Crooked Antler" and hopped out, hands raised.
"No need to panic, people!" he announced. "Just your friendly neighborhood... guy... with a magical murder-truck."
A tiny old woman, no taller than Kai's waist, shuffled forward and squinted up at him.
"You from the Steel Valleys?" she demanded, poking his shin with her cane.
"Uh... sure?" Kai hedged.
She nodded sagely. "Figures. They breed the weird ones out there."
Before he could correct her, a sharp voice cut through the crowd.
"You can't park that... thing here!"
Kai turned to see a petite girl in leather armor storming toward him, hands on hips. Her short red hair stuck up wildly, and she had the energy of someone who once yelled at a dragon for cutting in line.
"Name's Tessa," she snapped. "Town Ranger. You're violating four town ordinances just by existing."
"Technically," Kai said, leaning against the Goose casually, "I'm enhancing your tourism economy."
"With a death wagon?" she said, incredulous.
"Luxury tactical exploration vehicle," he corrected.
"Uh-huh." She crossed her arms. "Move it to the stables, or I start fining you in goats."
"...Is that how currency works here?"
"Only when we're mad," she said sweetly.
Sighing dramatically, Kai climbed back into the Goose.
"G.A.I.L., find me the nearest stable."
"Locating: rickety barn approximately three minutes northeast. Structural integrity: 2 out of 10. Probability of goats chewing on vital components: 89%."
"Perfect," Kai muttered.
As he pulled away, the crowd continued murmuring — half awed, half convinced he was either a hero, a villain, or a very shiny new idiot.
Probably all three.