One year later...

  The scene opens with Anis bursting out of his lab, Peter trailing behind him, covered in soot and looking vaguely traumatized. Anis, however, looks like he's just discovered the world's best ramen recipe. Oh, and he's also three years older, rocking the whole "lean and handsome" thing. He strides forward with an almost unsettlingly cheerful grin, his eyes gleaming with an inventor's manic energy, while poor Peter stumbles and coughs, leaving a trail of dark smudges with every step. The lab behind them seems to be smoking slightly, with the occasional spark flying out of the doorway, a testament to the chaotic brilliance (and occasional explosions) that Anis has been orchestrating.

  His wife, Siralyn, is the first to greet them, but her usual smirk slides off her face like a greased piglet. Her eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, and she sucks in a breath that sounds suspiciously like a vacuum cleaner. She had been in the middle of reviewing some trade agreements, a delicate negotiation involving enchanted silks and possibly cursed spices, but all thoughts of profit margins and political maneuvering vanish as she takes in her husband's new appearance.

  "Anis?" she squeaks, her voice several octaves higher than usual, a sound usually reserved for particularly startling assassination attempts or discovering that the royal chef has replaced her favorite tea with something labeled "Essence of Nightmare." "Is that really you? Did you... did you finally hit your growth spurt, or did you accidentally stumble into a time warp? Or perhaps," she adds, narrowing her eyes with a hint of suspicion, "did you make a deal with some kind of handsome, age-altering demon?"

  Peter, still coughing, steps forward to explain, though he sounds like he's narrating a particularly bizarre cooking show. "He was working on a stone with rapid aging properties. One minute he's sixteen, the next... poof... he's nineteen and ready to apply for a mortgage. The process was...unforeseen, but his health is stable. Mostly. There were some... minor side effects. Like the sudden urge to wear excessively tight pants and an inexplicable fondness for dramatic monologues." He gestures vaguely at Anis, who strikes a heroic pose, completely oblivious to the soot staining his face.

  Everyone present is stunned. Michael, who's seen a dragon sneeze without batting an eye and once calmly defused a magical bomb using only a stern look and a pair of pliers, raises an eyebrow so high it disappears into his hairline. He stares at Anis with a mixture of disbelief and reluctant admiration, as if witnessing a particularly impressive, yet deeply illogical, magic trick. Aman, who has entered with a group of city officials, simply stares, his mouth hanging open like a fish out of water. The officials behind him start whispering, their faces a mix of shock, confusion, and a healthy dose of "wait, that's our king?". One of them faints dramatically, clutching his chest and muttering about "the king's devastating handsomeness."

  Anis, though, seems utterly unfazed by their reactions. He runs a hand through his slightly longer hair, striking a pose that's somewhere between a shampoo commercial and a "before" photo in a weightlifting ad. He beams at them, completely unaware of the chaos he's caused. "It's...still me," he says, his voice now noticeably deeper, echoing slightly. "Just...with a few more years of experience. And significantly less awkward teenage angst. Though, I must admit, the new jawline is growing on me."

  Siralyn, ever the quick-witted one, recovers first, though she can't quite suppress the wide-eyed wonder and a newly awakened appreciation in her gaze. She steps closer, circling him like a predator sizing up a particularly attractive prey. Her eyes gleam with a dangerous curiosity. "You...you look..." she pauses, her voice a low purr, laced with playful challenge, "...different. In a very good way. Did you finally start using that royal skincare regimen I recommended, or is this some kind of forbidden magic side effect? Because if it's the latter, I might need to get myself hit with some aging magic, too." A faint blush dusts her cheeks, and her eyes sparkle with a newfound...interest, a spark of desire mixed with her usual sharp wit.

  Anis offers a wry smile, channeling his inner flirtatious protagonist. "I'll take that as a compliment, my dear. And to answer your question, it's a little bit of both. Mostly the forbidden magic, though. Turns out, rapid aging is great for the complexion. And for... other things." He winks, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

  Despite the initial shock (and Siralyn's blatant flirting), everyone quickly gets their bearings. The pressing matters of the kingdom, as always, take precedence. Anis, ever the pragmatist (and now, apparently, a certified hottie), claps his hands together, his expression shifting from playful to serious in an instant.

  "Alright, people, less gawking, more reporting. Peter," Anis asks, snapping his fingers, "give me the rundown. What's the situation in the kingdom? Lay it on me. And try to keep the technobabble to a minimum, unless it involves giant robots. I'm suddenly very interested in giant robots."

  Peter, finally managing to regain his composure (and retrieve his datapad from where he'd dropped it), rattles off the impressive progress. "Your Majesty, the kingdom has seen... some... adjustments. We've expanded our territory tenfold, incorporating Count Brussel's former lands. We now share borders with the Kingdom of Twaggel, the Dwarf Kingdom, and the Elf Kingdom, with the Loranic Republic bordering us at a single, heavily fortified, and suspiciously quiet point. It's like they're daring us to make a move, but also really, really hoping we don't."

  "Our current population stands at 260,000, and our capacity can now accommodate 360,000. We've implemented a comprehensive identification system for every citizen. Think of it as a magical Costco membership, but instead of bulk toilet paper, they get free banking, free water, free education up to college, free food for the elderly, free healthcare, and access to public bathhouses and toilet systems. We also provide a house for newlywed couples, provided both are citizens of Darneth and can prove they're not just in it for the free stuff. We've had to implement some... creative verification methods."

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  "New roads connect the developing regions, and the city walls have been rebuilt with Tier 4 defensive magic. They're so sturdy, even I'm impressed, and that's saying something. Our police and court systems are functioning efficiently, with the crime rate at a mere 0.9 percent and still decreasing. Mostly petty stuff, like gnome turf wars over garden gnomes and the occasional rogue bard singing excessively dramatic ballads in the town square. In fact, our hospitals are mostly empty these days. I suggest we begin teaching our people about Earth doctor knowledge from your Parallel Knowledge skill. You know, just in case someone gets a paper cut from an overly enthusiastic librarian, or a dragon decides to develop a sudden case of the sniffles."

  However, Peter's report also includes some less-than-stellar news. "Diplomatically, we're at rock bottom. We've received strongly worded letters from our alliance members—your father and the Dwarf King—inquiring, with increasing levels of passive-aggressive politeness, when we intend to open our borders and fulfill our obligations. Apparently, 'a year' means something different to them than it does to us. They're starting to get antsy, and the trade delegations are starting to resemble angry mobs with very specific demands for our new technology."

  Anis nods, acknowledging the mixed report with a sigh that's more world-weary than his actual age should allow. "I see. Classic diplomatic shenanigans. Well, we'll address that. In one week, we open our doors and throw a party so big it makes the royal wedding look like a tea party. Before that, Peter, Michael, and Siralyn, let me show you what I've been working on in the lab. Prepare to have your minds blown. And try not to set anything on fire, Peter. Again."

  Anis leads them to a newly constructed facility, his excitement bubbling over like a freshly brewed potion. "Behold!"

  He presents a series of advanced machines and technologies, each one more ridiculous and overpowered than the last:

  

  
1. Cheetah V1 (Tank): "Improved speed compared to the L. Destroyer, capable of reaching 100 kmph. It fires Tier 3 cannonballs and has a secondary gun that shoots small, but incredibly destructive, fireballs capable of piercing through any Tier 2 defensive spell. It can be operated autonomously, for when you're feeling lazy, or manually, for when you want to feel the wind in your... well, you know. It also comes with cup holders and a built-in espresso machine, because even tanks need their caffeine fix."


  
2. Bird Blaster (Truck): "Speed of 60 kmph, can carry 20 soldiers, and boasts an anti-missile and anti-aircraft system with a 1 km range. Any flying object that dares to enter its airspace is promptly turned into confetti. Autonomous and manual operation. Because sometimes, you just want to drive. And obliterate things from the sky."


  
3. Stinger (Plane): "Can reach speeds of up to 290 kmph with a 1000 kg payload. Its weaponry is based on the tank's gun, but 100 times more powerful and with extra oomph. It delivers explosive magic (Tier 5) with a lingering poison effect. Because why settle for just blowing things up when you can also make them regret their life choices for the next week? It also has a surprisingly comfortable interior, according to my test pilots. which was me !!"


  
4. Spider Bot (Robot): "Speed of 40 kmph. Powerful enough to single-handedly destroy two domains the size of Count Brussel's. Equipped with 3 Tier 3 spells, 4 Tier 2 spells, and 2 Tier 4 spells for movement, defense, and offense. Basically, it's a walking, talking, eight-legged Swiss Army knife of destruction. And it can also make a mean cup of tea, if you ask nicely."


  
5. Exoskeletons (for humans): "Enhance human capabilities, allowing the wearer to lift 300 kg, run at 35 kmph, and negate fall damage. Includes an auto-recovery feature for both the host and itself, and Tier 2 defense magic. Perfect for those days when you feel like bench-pressing a small car or parkouring across rooftops without, you know, dying. Also, they come in a variety of stylish colors."


  
6. Gun: "Doesn't need reloading, only a 3-second cooldown after firing 45 rounds. Features auto-aim and selectable ammunition: electric shots, bullets, or fire bullets. Because sometimes, you just need options. And sometimes, you just need to shoot lightning."


  
7. Factory: "A machine capable of producing all of these devices in just one hour, without the need for raw materials, thanks to my Item Creation skill. Yes, you heard that right. I can literally print tanks. Try not to think about the implications too hard. Or the paperwork."


  

  Anis is practically vibrating with excitement, eager to show off his creations and usher in a new era for Darneth. He beams at his companions, a manic glint in his eyes.

  Suddenly, Peter's head snaps up, his ears twitching like a startled cat. "Sire, we have incoming mail. And it sounds... urgent."

  Michael groans. "Great, more strongly worded letters? Are they starting to send strongly worded pigeons now?"

  Aman rushes in, carrying not one, but two scrolls, his face pale and slightly green. "It's from the Dwarf Kingdom and Twaggel, your majesty. They... they want to know why we haven't opened our borders yet. And they're not asking nicely. There are... threats. Vague, but definitely threats."

  The entire gang freezes, their earlier excitement replaced by a collective sense of "oh, crap." They exchange panicked glances, the reality of their diplomatic isolation crashing down on them like a ton of bricks (that Anis could probably print, given the chance). The festive atmosphere deflates like a punctured balloon, leaving behind a heavy silence and the unsettling feeling that their honeymoon period is officially over.

  "Well, this is just great," Anis says, his face falling. "Looks like we've got some explaining to do. And possibly some groveling. And maybe some strategically deployed giant robots."

  Peter adjusts his glasses, a nervous tic. "We are so screwed. I should have invested in more heavily armed diplomats."

  Michael cracks his knuckles, a hint of his usual bloodthirsty grin returning. "Anyone up for a road trip? And by road trip, I mean a heavily armed, possibly explosive, diplomatic mission?"

  Siralyn, however, just smirks, a glint of mischief in her eyes. "Don't worry, my love. I have a feeling things are about to get very interesting. And by interesting, I mean possibly involving dragons, political intrigue, and at least one daring escape."

  Narrator: And so, dear readers, our protagonists find themselves in a bit of a pickle. Will they manage to smooth things over with their increasingly impatient allies? Or will their technological marvels and internal improvements lead to an all-out diplomatic disaster? Find out next time, on "Darneth: We're Trying Our Best, Okay?"