Napoleon II had stayed in the place for another three hours to discuss technicalities with the engineers. They talked about refining and adjusting some of the settings of the machineries. Again, his eloquence and fluency in anything mechanical had shocked the engineers present in the discussion.
But as the sun was about to set, they prepared to leave.
The carriage was being set near the edge of the yard. Horses stamped their hooves. Steam from the factory thinned as fires were banked and valves shut. The noise that had filled the place all day slowly died down.
Napoleon I arrived last, coat already buttoned, expression settled.
"That's enough for today," he said. "We'll continue another time."
The engineers bowed. Antoine and Delaunay lingered a moment longer, eyes still drawn toward the machines as if afraid they might disappear once night fell.
Napoleon II climbed into the carriage first. Napoleon I followed, the door closing behind them with a solid thud.
The carriage rolled forward.
The factory receded behind them, its chimney cutting a dark line against the orange sky. Fields stretched out on either side of the road. The air smelled of soil now, not coal.
For a while, neither of them spoke.
Napoleon II leaned back against the seat, exhaustion finally catching up to him. His head was full—ratios, tolerances, layouts, costs. Things that didn't fade easily.
Napoleon I watched the road ahead and noticed something.
"It's dark here. Is there some technology in your world where humanity conquered the dark?"
The moment he asked that, Napoleon's II eyes lit up.
"Yes there was, I believed I already mentioned it. Electricity. It's simple to make and I think our engineers can do it once the foundation of the industrialization, which is already being conceptualized. It'll be a part of our reconstruction of Paris and in the future Father, I swear to you that every major city in France would never have to be scared of the dark."
"Are you saying that this electricity is more superior than oil lamps?" Napoleon I asked.
"Yes," Napoleon II replied immediately. "In every way that matters."
Napoleon I raised an eyebrow but said nothing, letting him continue.
"Oil lamps burn," Napoleon II said. "They consume fuel directly. They smoke. They flicker. They depend on wind, on wick quality, on the oil itself. And they kill people."
Napoleon glanced at him. "Kill?"
"Fires," Napoleon II said. "Entire streets gone because one lamp tipped over. And light stops where the flame stops. You can't scale it. You can't control it."
The carriage rolled past a stretch of road where lanterns were already being lit. One by one. A man climbed a ladder, glass rattling as he opened a housing and touched flame to wick.
Napoleon II watched through the window.
"That," he said, "is labor just to keep darkness away."
Napoleon followed his gaze.
"With electricity," Napoleon II continued, "you don't move the flame. You move power. One source. Many lights. No smoke. No open fire. You flip a switch, and the street lights up."
"A switch," Napoleon repeated.
"Yes," Napoleon II said. "A simple mechanism. On. Off. No ladders. No oil carts. No nightly ritual."
The carriage passed another junction. Shadows pooled thickly between buildings.
"In my time," Napoleon II went on, "cities stayed awake. Work didn't end at sunset. Markets. Workshops. Printing presses. Even hospitals. Darkness stopped being a limit."
Napoleon leaned back slightly.
"And this electricity," he said, "comes from the steam engines?"
"At first," Napoleon II nodded. "Steam turns a generator. Motion becomes current. Later, there are better ways. But this is enough to begin."
Napoleon was quiet for a moment.
"You're talking about extending the day," he said.
"Yes," Napoleon II replied. "And making the night safer."
"I'm so excited about this. I hope I can see it before my time—"
"You will," Napoleon II said, cutting in gently. "And we are already starting. So long that you take care of your health, father, you'll definitely see the wonders of my time. I promise you that."
"Oh, I will take care of my health," Napoleon I said. "You've made sure of that."
He looked out the window again. The road narrowed as they approached the outskirts of Paris. Lantern light grew denser now, but it was uneven—bright pools surrounded by thick shadow.
"I used to think night belonged to soldiers," Napoleon I continued. "Marching. Guard duty. Waiting. Everything else stopped."
Napoleon II listened.
"But if what you're saying is true," Napoleon I went on, "then night becomes… productive."
"Yes," Napoleon II said. "And predictable. You don't fight darkness anymore. You plan around it."
The carriage slowed briefly as another vehicle passed in the opposite direction. The lantern on its side flickered wildly as the wind caught it.
Napoleon I watched the flame dance.
"And the cost?" he asked. "Nothing you've shown me comes cheap."
Napoleon II nodded. "It isn't cheap at first. Copper. Iron. Insulation. Generators. But oil never stops costing money. Electricity does. Once the system is built, light becomes almost free."
Napoleon I's mouth tightened slightly.
"I like things that punish waste," he said.
"That's exactly what it does," Napoleon II replied. "It punishes inefficiency."
They crossed into the palace district. Guards were already lighting the torches along the outer wall. The Tuileries loomed ahead, stone catching the last of the fading light.
Napoleon I straightened.
"You know," he said, "when I first took power, France was exhausted. War had taken years from her. I thought conquest was the only way forward."
He paused.
"But what you're building doesn't take land. It takes time."
Napoleon II looked at him.
"And patience," Napoleon I added. "Which I'm not known for."
Napoleon II allowed himself a small smile.
"I'll handle the patience part," he said.
The carriage rolled through the gates and slowed to a stop.
Napoleon I rested a hand on the door latch but didn't open it yet.
"Very well," he said. "We'll light Paris. Then France. And when the rest of Europe is still burning oil, they'll wonder how they fell behind."