Roland Clewes home was a modest bachelor pad, a small house simply furnished yet sufficient for his needs. Just half a mile from the station, it was bordered by the sprawling complex he referred to as his Works. Within its walls, laboratories and large machine shops buzzed with activity, where skilled workers crafted an array of innovative metal and material contraptions. Among the various structures stood a striking round tower, its smooth iron walls soaring thirty feet high and devoid of windows, illuminated and ventilated solely from above. This was Clewes private workshop, a sanctuary few entered aside from the indispensable old Samuel Block and a select few trusted artisans. The industries within the complex were diverse, each promising to revolutionize a different aspect of the world. Yet, it was to his lens-house that Clewe dedicated his utmost focus, where a groundbreaking enterprise was about to unfold‚Aîone he believed was more significant than any human endeavor before it.