Date: 6/23/2001 – 2:42 AM
Location: Foundation Nursery – Unit 981
Perspective: Kaiser Everhart
Cartethyia closed her eyes, her posture rigid with effort. I could feel the mana humming in the air—a heavy, static-filled vibration that made the fine hairs on my arms stand up. The humidity in the small radius around her palm spiked. Droplets of condensation began to form on the surface of the metal desk, but the center of her hand remained empty.
The glow of her mana flickered, then died out like a spent candle.
She opened her eyes and looked down at her palms. They were dry.
She bit her lip, a flash of that familiar, paralyzing despair crossing her features before she quickly forced a bright, artificial smile onto her face.
"Oh, Kaiser! Honey, that was... that was such a good try!" she chirped, her voice a pitch too high. She smoothed my hair with a hand that was still trembling from the mana-exhaustion.
"Your writing is so beautiful, really! It's just... mama is a bit of a broken tool, isn't she? Even with the perfect instructions, I'm still just a 'disaster.'"
She was trying to protect me from her failure. She wanted to uplift me even while her own heart was sinking.
I didn't let her retreat into that lie.
I reached out and tugged sharply at the sleeve of her dress.
"N-next," I said, pointing at the second sheet of paper tucked inside the envelope.
Cartethyia blinked, her brows knitting together. "Next? There's... there's more?"
She picked up the second page. Her eyes widened as she realized the script was even more dense, yet the diagrams were simpler—focused on a single, glowing dot.
Cartethyia, I left the final step out of the first page on purpose. One cannot understand the 'Tightness' of water without first feeling the 'Loose' failure of the air. You felt the moisture increase, but it didn't stay.
That is because you lacked the resolution.
"You left it out... on purpose?" she whispered, a small, breathless laugh escaping her. "You little devil..."
To create the result, you must compress three things into a singular, frictionless point in the center of your palm.
Compress the Spectrum (Color): Visualize the violet and blue of the deep ocean until they become a white light.
Compress the Motion (Temperature): Stop the vibration of the air until it feels like ice, but keep the energy of a fire.
Compress the Actions (Forces): Push and pull at the same time.*
This singular point of Absolute, Contained Pressure will force the ambient Mana to resolve its own contradictions. The only substance in existence that holds all these parameters in flux—defined yet yielding, solid yet liquid—is Water.
It is the only answer the universe can give to that much pressure.
Cartethyia stared at the paper. I could see the gears of her mind shifting, discarding the years of Alaric's "instinctive" failures and replacing them with this cold, mathematical certainty.
The "Mistakes" I had pointed out earlier were now the foundation of her new understanding.
She closed the letter and looked at me. The doubt was gone. In its place was a fierce, maternal determination that mirrored my own cold focus.
"I can do this," she said, her voice dropping into a low, steady register. "I see it now. I see what I was missing. I was trying to make water. I should have been making pressure."
I looked at her, my blue eyes reflecting the dim light of the room.
I didn't need to say anything.
She will not fail. I have stripped the complexity into its fundamental truths.
Cartethyia turned back to the empty cup. She didn't just hold out her hand; she claimed the space. She took a deep breath, and for the first time, her mana didn't vibrate—it imploded.
The air in the room seemed to rush toward her palm, drawn into the "Absolute Point" I had described.
She began the incantation, her voice melodic and sharp, speaking the ancient Latin tongue that bridged the gap between thought and reality.
"In hoc puncto, omnia fluant... Punctum absolutum, aqua resolvatur!"
Snap.
The sound of a vacuum being filled echoed through the nursery. In the center of her palm, a sphere of water—perfectly clear and vibrating with contained energy—materialized out of nothing.
It wasn't a bubble or a mist.
It was a dense, rotating orb of liquid.
Cartethyia's eyes went wide in genuine shock. With a sharp flick of her wrist, she guided the motion. The orb shot forward, a silver streak in the dark, and landed in the ceramic cup with a heavy thud-splash.
The cup was full.
Not a single drop had spilled.
The silence that followed was absolute. Cartethyia looked from the cup to her hand, then back to me.
Her mouth was open, her chest heaving with the realization that she had just achieved a lifetime's goal in a matter of seconds.
I leaned back against the headboard and let a small, subtle smirk play on my lips.
As I envisioned.
For a moment, she didn't move. Then, the silence broke.
"Hah... haha... hahahaha!" She let out a manic, breathless laugh that echoed off the cold white walls. She didn't look at the cup anymore.
She looked at me.
Before I could brace myself, she lunged. She scooped me up with a strength that was almost violent, pulling me into the hollow of her collarbone. She didn't just hold me; she anchored me to her, her arms wrapping around my small frame like iron bands.
"You did it," she whispered into my hair, her voice trembling. "My little void... my life... you did what an entire Academy of 'Elites' couldn't do..."
She pulled back just enough to frame my face with her hands. Her palms were still cold from the water mana, but her touch was burning.
She began to pepper my face with frantic, tiny kisses—my forehead, my nose, my cheeks.
"Kaiser, Kaiser, Kaiser," she chanted, her eyes shimmering with a light that bordered on the feral.
"Do you have any idea what you are? You're mine. You're the only thing in this rotting world that's actually my happiness. Alaric was a fool. My family were fools. But you... you're my soul outside my body."
"L-l-logi-c," I muttered, trying to turn my head away from the suffocating affection. My face was flushed from the friction of her skin. "J-just... m-math, Ccartethyia."
"No, don't you dare call it math!" she squeaked, nipping playfully but firmly at my earlobe. "It was a miracle. You gave me back the rain, honey. You saw the one hole in my heart and you filled it with a single drop of water."
She squeezed me so hard I felt my ribs protest. She began to rock back and forth, her eyes fixed on mine with a possessiveness that made the hair on my neck stand up.
"We don't need them, do we?" she whispered, her voice dropping into a dark, honeyed lilt.
"We don't need the Foundation. We don't need their tests. As long as I have you, and you have me... I'll never let anyone take you. I'll burn this place to the ground before I let them touch a single hair on your brilliant little head."
I remained quiet, letting her submerge me in her love.
I looked at the desk. The second envelope—the one containing my "Message"—was still there, unopened.
"R-r-read," I whispered, reaching a small hand toward the second letter. I needed to finish the story. I needed her to understand that she was free to leave me now that her regret was gone.
"S-s-econd... l-letter."
Cartethyia stopped rocking. She glanced at the letter, then shook her head, a massive, triumphant smile returning to her face.
"No, honey. No more letters," she said, her voice bright and commanding. "It's my turn to make you happy. You gave mama the moon... now mama is going to give you the world."
She sat me down on her lap and reached for the small cardboard box she had placed on the desk earlier. Her fingers danced over the lid, her excitement radiating off her in waves.
"I told you I was making requests all week," she giggled, her eyes sparkling with a secret joy. "Vance finally cracked. He gave it to me."
She gripped the edges of the box, her smile so wide it looked like it might shatter.
Cartethyia's hands moved with a frantic, joyful precision as she peeled back the cardboard lid of the box.
"Tan-tadaaan!" she sang, her voice a shimmering vibrato of pure, unadulterated pride.
"Look, Kaiser! Your very own birthday cake!"
My eyes widened. I leaned forward, my analytical systems momentarily stalled by the object inside.
It wasn't a cake in the traditional sense. It was a circular mold of the grey, vitamin-enriched nutrient paste we were fed daily, but it had been meticulously smoothed and topped with a thin layer of what looked like sweetened agar.
In the center sat a single, small candle in the shape of the number "1."
"I missed it," she whispered, her smile faltering for a second before returning with double the intensity.
"June 18th. Five days ago. I was so busy with the 'Callings' and their stupid paperwork that the date just... slipped. But I haven't stopped pestering them! I've been making requests for a week, demanding they give me at least one piece of flavored paste."
"I had to deal with so many headaches, Kaiser. Issues with your tests, your 'low scores,' the technical grades... ugh!"
She waved a hand dismissively as if the Foundation's entire evaluation system was nothing more than a bothersome fly.
"I don't really care about any of that," she chirped, her eyes locked onto mine with a possessive heat. "I only wanted your happiness. I wanted my little void to have his first candle."
I looked at the "1" candle.
June 18th. While I was calculating my own abandonment, she was fighting the bureaucracy for a piece of flavored starch.
"W-why?" I muttered.
Cartethyia put the box down on the bed next to her. She reached out and lifted me by the armpits, bringing me level with her face. Her dark eyes were swimming with a depth of emotion that defied my 16 philosophies.
"Because I'm your mother," she said.
The statement was a flat fact, more absolute than any law of physics I had studied.
"A mother's job isn't to grade a child, Kaiser," she continued, her voice dropping into a low, iconic tone that felt like a vow.
"A mother is a shield. I will protect you forever. I don't care if you're a genius or if you're 'waste.' I will stand between you and the sun if it gets too bright. I will be the one who never leaves, even when the world demands you walk alone."
"You are the only one I want to keep."
My plan is failing. I had calculated that by fixing her regret—her inability to use water magic—I would make her "whole" enough to leave me. I thought she would see my "low scores" and the letters, and choose her own survival. I applied logic to a system that functions on the negation of logic.
"W-what... b-birth-day?" I asked, my voice small.
Cartethyia's expression shifted. A flash of something cold and hateful flickered in her eyes—a brief glimpse of the woman who had been discarded by the world.
"A birthday is the day you were born," she said, her voice turning sharp.
"This was the day you were brought into this world. The day you were... thrown away by them." Her grip on my shoulders tightened.
"Those people who only see talent... those who couldn't handle the light of you... but I don't care. I don't care whose blood is in your veins or who 'gave' you to the Foundation."
She pulled me into a sudden, crushing hug, burying her face in the crook of my neck.
"I'm your mother. Not her. Not any of them."
"You're my son."
She was shaking.
The "Mother of the Void" was claiming her territory.
"A birthday means I get to celebrate that you exist," she whispered into my ear. "And I want to be there for every single one you have. Forever. I'm never leaving you, Kaiser. Never. Having you... it changed my life."
She went quiet then, just holding me.
I looked over her shoulder at the desk. The second letter—my logical, reasoned "Message"—sat there, unopened. It was a masterpiece of strategic communication, designed to ensure she walked away without guilt.
And it was completely useless.
If she reads that letter now—after I've fixed her magic, after she's brought me this beautiful cake—it won't set her free.
It will break her heart.
The "Aporetic False Genius" had made a fundamental error. I had understood the mechanics of the world, but I had underestimated the gravity of a mother's love.
The second envelope felt like a localized singularity sitting on the bedsheets.
I felt a genuine, cold prickle of alarm—not the simulated fear of the White Room, but a physical tightening in my chest.
"N-no," I blurted out, my small hands clamping down on her sleeve. "C-cartethyia... n-no. C-cake... now. E-eat... c-cake."
Cartethyia giggled, the sound vibrating against my back. She didn't let go of the envelope.
"Oh, listen to you! Trying to be a little glutton now? My prince is finally hungry!" She squeezed me, her cheek pressing hard against mine.
"In a minute, honey! Mama just wants to see what else her little genius has to say. If the first one fixed my regret, maybe the second one will fix my world, hmm?"
"C-cake!" I insisted, my voice cracking. I tried to reach for the box, my short arms flailing with a lack of coordination that I usually masked.
"C-cake... Cake!"
"Hehe, someone is demanding today!" She leaned back, holding the letter just out of my reach. Her eyes were shimmering with that intense, possessive joy.
"You're so cute when you're needy, Kaiser-bear. It makes me want to keep you in this room forever and never let anyone see you."
I shifted my strategy. If greed wouldn't work, I had to use the one thing I knew she valued more than her own survival: the miracle I had just given her.
"M-m-ma-agic," I whispered, pointing to the empty space above the bed. "M-more... m-magic. S-show... m-me."
That stopped her. Her eyes lit up with a renewed spark of pride. "You want to see more? You want to see what mama can do with your 'secrets'?"
She set the letter down on her lap—too close for me to grab without alerting her—and extended her palm. She didn't use the cup this time.
She followed the "Absolute Point" logic I had provided, but instead of shooting the water, she held the pressure in a state of constant, rotating flux.
The air in the nursery plummeted in temperature. Frost began to bloom on the metal legs of the bed. A moist, swirling mist gathered in the center of the room, thickening until it formed a miniature, glowing cloud.
It was a beautiful, impossible feat of atmospheric manipulation.
"Look, Kaiser," she whispered, her voice awe-struck. "I'm making a sky inside our walls."
The cloud drifted for a moment, shedding a faint, cool dew before the mana dissolved and it faded into a chilly draft. Cartethyia exhaled, her breath visible in the cold air.
"I can summon so much more later, my little void," she said, her voice dropping into that honeyed, obsessive lilt.
"I'll make a whole ocean for you if you ask. But first..."
She reached down. Her fingers brushed the edge of the second envelope.
"N-no—!" I lunged forward, my small fingers grazing the paper, but she was faster. She laughed, a bright, melodic sound, and pulled me back onto her lap.
"Naughty, naughty!" she teased, planting a loud, wet kiss on my forehead. "Trying to hide your heart from mama? That's not allowed!"
"I get to see everything inside that brilliant head of yours."
I was trapped. My biological shell was too weak to fight her, and my "Mind" was too slow to find a third distraction.
The room felt unnaturally quiet as she slid her thumb under the seal. The sound of the paper tearing was like a gunshot in the sterile silence.
She pulled out the page.
It's over.