—This is the Robot Room —Kurt explained—. All the models from around the world are here.
Boom! Boom!
The ground suddenly trembled beneath their feet.
A colossal shadow covered them as a gigantic robot, with a heroic metallic design that reminded Noah of Mazinger Z, advanced slowly among the exhibition platforms.
Gian looked up, eyes shining.
Suneo opened his mouth, speechless.
As the group began to explore, Kurt continued explaining each section with enthusiasm.
Noah pressed the red nose of what seemed to be a wooden doll displayed on a pedestal.
The next second, the doll stood up.
Its rigid surface reconfigured with a soft creak. The wood took on skin tone, texture, and exact proportions.
In a few moments, another Noah stood before him.
Noah raised his hand, and his copy did the same, with the same speed and the same angle.
—It's identical to me…
—Hey, don't get distracted! —Doraemon protested—. We still have to find my bell…
Ding! Ding! Ding!
Doraemon froze upon hearing the noise.
—That's the sound of a bell! It must be mine!
He shot off towards the origin of the jingle. The sound came from a circular opening in the floor that led to a lower level.
To his disappointment, the bell wasn't his.
An entertainment robot with a cartoonish appearance shook a small bell on its neck while inviting visitors to participate in a game: fishing for robot turtles from an artificial pond.
—I'll try! —Nobita said, taking the fishing rod.
After several clumsy attempts, the hook caught.
—Ha! It's mine now!
He pulled hard, and the robot turtle flew through the air… and landed directly on Doraemon's magic pocket.
Before he could react, the turtle slid inside.
—Hey! No, no, no!
Doraemon tried to reach in to pull it out.
—Aaargh! Damn it, that hurts!
He pulled his hand back abruptly. Something had bitten him from the inside.
The robot in charge of this game burst out laughing.
—Hahaha! Looks like it likes you. Keep it as a pet for a while.
—Sure! And how am I supposed to use my pocket then?
The turtle poked its head out from the pocket opening, as if claiming its conquered territory.
—Well, let's go —Kurt intervened—. I'll guide you to the next room.
The group followed him while Doraemon walked stiffly, keeping an eye on his own pocket.
They crossed hallways where floors seemed like solid liquids, ceilings that simulated infinite skies, and display cases where artifacts defied any known logic.
Technology and magic no longer seemed to have a clear boundary.
Noah walked in silence, observing every peculiarity of the place with fascination.
…
In a dimly lit place, an old man in a wheelchair furiously pounded the buttons on his holographic keyboard.
—Hehehe… the simulation was perfect, only missing… hehehe… HAHAHAHA! —he exclaimed, his laughter echoing in the room.
—Grandfather! —a youthful voice interrupted him.
The supervillain atmosphere of plotting an evil plan dissolved instantly when his granddaughter burst into the place, holding a cake in one hand and turning on the light. The room, which seemed like a secret laboratory, turned out to be actually a dining room full of clutter.
—Oh my! What is all this mess? —the girl exclaimed—. I've told you to leave space on the table during meals and tea time. You know the table is very small!
—Sorry, sorry! —the old man replied, still laughing.
With a gesture of his hand, everything on the table disappeared, leaving it spotless.
—There, see? —he said proudly.
—Great! —the girl smiled, leaving the cake on the table.
—Oh, it looks delicious!
—Doesn't it? Today I made sweet potato cake. Let me call Kurt so he can come try some.
At that moment, Kurt, who was still with Doraemon's group, saw his watch flash, so he stepped aside a few steps before answering.
—Hello?
—Kurt, it's tea time. What are you going to do? —asked the girl's voice.
—Of course I'll come, wait Ginger —he replied, hanging up and turning to the group.
—Sorry, if you don't mind, I'll go to the bathroom for a moment. Meanwhile, enjoy this room.
Without giving them time to respond, he ran off and disappeared into the crowd.
—Sorry for the delay —Kurt said as he emerged from a secret tunnel, entering the house of the old man and his granddaughter Ginger.
He took off his work vest and sat at the already prepared table, resting his hands on it.
—Ahem! Your attention, please! —announced the old man, clearing his throat.
—After cutting back on household expenses to gradually build the Deppler metal production machine, I'm finally about to finish it —he continued proudly.
—Haha! Great, great! —Kurt clapped enthusiastically, excited by the news.
—Here it is!
The old man pressed a button, and one of the house's walls slid smoothly aside, revealing the adjacent room. There, before their eyes, stood a futuristic-looking machine that emitted a metallic glow filling the room.
—When it's finished, we'll finally be able to create Deppler metal —the old man explained, a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes.
—You're finally about to achieve it, Professor Deppler! —Kurt exclaimed, still amazed.
—The Fullmetal alloy your grandfather created had extraordinary properties, but the base metal is becoming increasingly scarce on the Earth's surface —said Professor Deppler—. When it runs out, it will no longer be possible to create new inventions. But, with this wonderful machine, it doesn't matter if we use iron, aluminum, or, of course, Fullmetal alloy: any of them can be transformed into Deppler metal. Hehehe!
—That's amazing, Professor Deppler! —Kurt responded—. Then there will be no more worries about raw materials, and gadget development will proceed without limits.
—Haha! Of course, Kurt —concluded Professor Deppler with a smile—. And thus, the name of the genius Deppler will be forever written in the history books!
Suneo and Gian had gotten lost somewhere in the museum, but since everyone was wearing the transmitters, no one worried too much about them.
For the next half hour, the group wandered through the museum following Doraemon as he searched for his bell without success. They went from room to room, trying gadgets, observing inventions, and despite the distractions, Doraemon's frustration grew with each failed attempt.
Finally, after so much wandering, they ended up in front of a door clearly marked "Restricted Area: Access Prohibited." Noah frowned as his eyes fixed on a small miniature sun floating in the middle of the room, illuminated by its glow.
—What… what is this? —he murmured, his pupils reflecting the golden light of the sun.
The other three couldn't look away; the sun seemed to pulse with its own energy, emitting a heat and radiance that fascinated and frightened in equal measure.
—Beep! Beep! Beep! —a metallic alert sounded, and suddenly, the entire room turned an intense red as a thunderous alarm began to blare.
—What are you doing here?! —exclaimed an authoritative voice from the entrance—. Entry is forbidden!
—Director Figgs! —Doraemon shouted.
The director emerged from a side hatch, approaching with firm steps and severe eyes.
—Ah… it's you, the visitors.
—We're sorry, Director, we got lost —Doraemon said quickly, raising his hands in apology.
Figgs turned off the alarm with a small watch on his wrist and frowned.
—Where is Kurt? —he asked with evident frustration—. That boy has neglected his work again…
He sighed, visibly annoyed by the lack of supervision from Kurt.