Bram stares at the playing projector in the middle of the street. His surprise knows no bounds. How did people fit into such a small box? Is this even a box?

Bram, while holding Aya’s hand, stares at all the equipment with strange glances. He can’t wrap his head around how it was invented and how it works.

— Child, what kind of projection light is this? And..this..box. does it freeze everything? In my time, we dug holes to keep food cold.— He looks down at the red-haired girl.