(A/N):
Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.
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King's Palace...
Meanwhile, within the king's palace,
Ben stood in his private chamber—
A space cleared for experiments and innovation.
Before him sat the prototype of his most ambitious project: a magical "television."
But unlike the glass screens of Earth, this world's version was something entirely different—
An arcane prison cube, its surface pitch black, humming faintly as if alive.
Ben's lips curved into a wide grin, anticipation gleaming in his eyes.
Grin~
"____"
At his side stood Finltoff Draintip,
The head of the Artifact Specialist Division.
The old mage's hands trembled slightly, not from fear,
But from barely contained excitement.
His eyes glittered as though he were about to watch a dream turn real.
"Your Majesty,"
Finltoff said, voice hushed with reverence,
"We're ready to demonstrate the prototype."
Ben gave a nod.
Nod~
"____"
Hiss~
With a hiss, the cube shifted.
Its surface split open,
Revealing a triangular prism that slowly rose upward.
The sharp tip extended skyward,
Glowing with runes before releasing a pulse of energy.
Whummm—
The energy rippled across the chamber, and suddenly the walls shimmered, glowing in bands of blue and black.
Arcane glyphs spiraled outward, then converged into a line of glowing text across the surfaces:
|SELECT DISPLAY|
Ben's grin widened.
Grin~
He stepped forward, his hand raised.
With deliberate precision,
He pressed his palm to the glowing text.
The cube responded with a low hum.
The walls flickered, their blue light sputtering against the darkness.
One by one, each wall blinked black—
Until only the surface Ben had touched remained.
Bzzt—
Flicker—
Hummm…
Green sparks danced across the chosen wall before finally stabilizing.
The glow shifted into white, crisp and alive, waiting to project.
Ben's eyes lit up.
"Now… let's see what this baby can really do."
Finltoff could barely contain himself, muttering,
"It works… it really works…"
Ben wasn't finished yet.
He opened his grimoire, the pages fluttering as if alive,
Stopping on a freshly inscribed spell—
One he had crafted specifically for this moment.
"Let's test the limits,"
He muttered.
He raised his hand, and instead of casting the illusion into the air as was standard,
He channeled it directly into the prison cube.
The triangular prism at the cube's peak began to pulse—
First green, then red, flickering faster and faster as it absorbed the spell.
Bzzt—
Whummm—
Click.
Suddenly, the white wall shimmered and shifted.
An illusion blossomed across its surface—
Not random, but clear, crisp, and vivid.
Kartos. Free-falling from a jagged cliffside, arms wide as the wind howled past him.
The sensation of speed, of gravity pulling, filled the room so strongly that even Finltoff staggered back as though he were the one tumbling through the skies.
"____"
Then—
shift.
The scene warped.
Now, Madara stood upon a cliff, the entire Shinobi Alliance spread beneath him like ants.
His expression was pure indifference,
An unshakable mountain of arrogance and power.
The oppressive presence radiating from the illusion made the specialists shiver,
Some unconsciously holding their breath.
And then—
cut.
The scene faded, the projection unraveling.
The cube's tip stopped blinking, falling silent with one last hiss.
Ben lowered his hand, closing the grimoire with a snap.
He turned to Finltoff, his smile sharp and satisfied.
"The project,"
He declared, voice steady and triumphant,
"Has succeeded."
For a moment, there was silence—
"____"
"____"
"____"
Then Finltoff's eyes widened in sheer disbelief before he erupted with laughter.
The entire team behind him broke into cheers, some hugging, others jumping with unrestrained joy.
Finltoff pressed his hands together, bowing deeply.
"To think, Your Majesty, you've brought dreams into reality… this will change everything!"
Ben only smirked, gazing at the cube.
Smirk~
In his mind, he was already thinking several steps ahead—
About surveillance, communication, influence.
"Good,"
He murmured.
"Now the real work begins."
The cheering died down gradually, and Finltoff turned to Ben, still flushed with excitement.
"Your Majesty, the display works flawlessly! We can project illusions, memories, even crafted simulations… but—"
His voice dipped,
"—it fades the moment your magic stops fueling it. It cannot last."
Ben had already anticipated this.
He crossed his arms, his gaze sharp on the cube.
"That's the next step. A display is useless without permanence. What we need,"
He said firmly,
"is a stable source—a way to store illusions, memories for now. Not just for moments, but for years. Decades, even."
The specialists murmured among themselves, some doubtful, others intrigued.
Finltoff pushed his glasses up nervously.
"Storage magic is… volatile, sire. Normal memory crystals degrade. Grimoires can only carry personal spells. To stabilize data like this—especially an illusion so vivid—would require…"
"Something new,"
Ben interrupted.
He paced slowly around the cube, eyes gleaming as ideas stitched together.
"A vessel. A medium that can hold not only mana but information. It must be compatible with any mage, any element, without corruption. If we succeed, this won't just be an illusion projector—it will be a library, a weapon, a teacher, a historian… and more."
Finltoff swallowed hard.
Gulp~
"____"
With all his years of experience he could tell how ambitious the current king's ideals were.
He could see it now—
The cube displaying entire wars, ancient histories, or classified strategies, all stored and retrievable at will.
"The real challenge,"
Ben continued,
"is stability. If the data corrupts, we lose everything. Which means we need a power source dedicated solely to preservation. Not just mana… something self-sustaining."
He turned to Finltoff, his grin widening.
"Tell me, Finltoff—how far along are your experiments with artificial mana cores?"
Finltoff froze, eyes darting to the other specialists before he spoke, voice low, almost reverent.
"You… already knew about those?"
Ben smirked, his tone cool but commanding.
Smrik~
"Now bring them to me. If we succeed, this project will reshape the Clover Kingdom—and beyond."
The room fell silent again,
"____"
"____"
"____"
But this time it was the silence of awe, of realizing they were standing at the edge of history.
Letting out a sigh, Finltoff adjusted his spectacles.
Sigh~
A wary smile tugged at his lips as he bowed.
"If my research can truly aid Your Majesty in finishing this… ambitious project, then I'll be proud to see it through. Consider it done."
Ben gave a curt nod, satisfied.
Nod~
The specialists returned to their work, buzzing with renewed energy, though beneath their excitement lingered the weight of responsibility.
Meanwhile,
Inside the Wizard King's palace…
Julius Novachrono sat slouched in his chair, fingers pressed against his temple.
The earlier words of Ben still echoed in his mind—
'Don't even trust your most loyal men. They could be controlled.'
The thought gnawed at him.
"____"
The Clover Kingdom was strong,
But unseen threats had a way of slipping through the cracks.
And if even the captains could not be fully trusted… what then?
Across the room,
Marx watched his lord's unusual silence with furrowed brows.
Frown~
He had seen Julius deep in thought before,
But rarely with such gravity.
Finally, Julius straightened, his eyes sharp with decision.
"Marx. Summon the captains."
Marx blinked.
"All of them, sir? At once?"
"Yes,"
Julius said firmly, his tone leaving no room for doubt.
"There is something I need to discuss with them—face to face."
Though still confused,
Marx didn't question further.
With a bow, he drew several scrolls from his satchel.
One by one, his magic inscribed glowing letters across the parchment—
Summons marked with the seal of the Wizard King.
In an instant, the scrolls vanished, carried away by spatial enchantment to each of the squad bases.
Across the kingdom, captains would soon look up from their duties to find a scroll fluttering into their hands, bearing a single message:
"By order of the Wizard King, assemble at once."
Black Bulls Squad's Base...
Meanwhile, at the Black Bulls' base…
Captain Yami Sukehiro sat in his chair, a fresh scroll in hand.
After reading the Wizard King's summons,
He let out a long puff of smoke, eyes narrowing.
Puff~
"Tch. Guess I can't ignore this one."
Without hesitation, he snapped his fingers.
"Oi, Finral!"
From the corner, Finral was halfway into putting on cologne, clearly dressed up for a night out.
"C-Captain, now? I have… uh… urgent plans—"
"Change of plans,"
Yami cut him off, smoke curling from his cigarette.
"Open a portal. We're goin' to see the Wizard King."
"But my date—"
"Portal. Now."
With a defeated groan,
Finral waved his hand, space distorting into a shimmering oval.
Yami stepped through without another word, forcing Finral to follow, shoulders slumping as his dreams of romance vanished.
The portal snapped shut behind them.
Back inside the base, things were—
Predictably—
Chaotic.
Asta, face stuffed with food from Charmy's never-ending kitchen magic, looked up in surprise as Yami's towering figure disappeared.
"Captain's been summoned by the Wizard King, huh…? Guess it must be something big."
But before he could finish chewing, another Yami came stomping down the stairs.
"____"
Asta's eyes bulged.
"HUHHH?! TWO CAPTAINS?!"
The "second Yami" immediately flickered and shrank into the real culprit—
Gauche Adlai, who was clutching a small mirror in his trembling hand.
His nose was bleeding, clearly from overuse of his magic.
"Mirror… reflection… so beautiful…"
Gauche muttered, lost in his obsession.
Asta dropped his fork in shock.
"WHY ARE YOU TRANSFORMED INTO THE CAPTAIN?!"
Gauche didn't answer.
He just stared dreamily into his mirror, swaying on his feet, while Charmy cheerfully dumped another mountain of food on Asta's plate, entirely unfazed by the madness unfolding around her.
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(Author's POV)
(A/N)Thanks for reading the chapter!
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