Riaan woke with a start, his chest pounding. One moment, he had been gazing at the gleaming city of 5355 with its floating vehicles and glowing towers. The next, he was barefoot in the muddy village square, surrounded by familiar smells: cooking fires, wet earth, and the occasional goat wandering too close.

Children ran past him, laughing and squealing, while adults went about their chores as if nothing extraordinary had happened. He blinked, trying to steady himself. He was back.

“Riaan! What are you doing standing there like a fool? Did you sleep through the morning chores?” His mother’s sharp voice cut through his thoughts.

“I… uh… just thinking,” Riaan stammered.

She snorted. “Thinking? That’d be the day. Now fetch some water before the goats drink it all.”

Riaan clenched his fists. He remembered what he had seen in 5355: people using blocks of soap everywhere, streets so clean they shone, children washing happily. He didn’t know the exact recipe, but he had an idea.

That evening, he gathered sticks and dry twigs at the edge of the village square. Sparks flew from his crude fire-making technique, and a small flame appeared. Children squealed with delight. “It’s magic!” one shouted, while another poked at the flame and nearly fell over. Adults squinted suspiciously. Elder Tarek muttered, “Dangerous foolishness. That boy will burn the village down.”

Riaan ignored him. He repeated the process carefully, showing how it could be done safely. Slowly, the villagers began to watch, curiosity replacing fear.

Next, Riaan turned to his soap experiments. He collected ash, animal fat, and water, mixing them in various ways. The first attempts were disasters. Some blocks were too soft and collapsed immediately. Others were too hard and cracked into useless shards. Some smelled so bad that the children gagged and ran away, giggling.

“Mud cakes!” one boy shouted, poking at a messy lump with a stick. Riaan laughed despite himself. *“Not quite 5355, but close enough,”* he thought.

Day by day, he adjusted the mixture. Finally, he produced a solid block that could actually be used. He demonstrated washing hands. The children hesitated at first, then laughed and followed eagerly. Adults began noticing fewer coughs and stomachaches among the children. Even Elder Tarek watched quietly, nodding imperceptibly.

By the end of the week, Riaan’s little “workshop” at the edge of the square was alive. Children scrubbed hands with delight, adults recorded observations carefully, and elders began to see practical benefits.

Riaan held a block of soap and a matchstick, smiling. *“Two small tools. One big change. Let’s keep going.”*

He knew the road ahead was long, but the spark had been lit, and there was no turning back.