> Welcome, Luner Veritas.
> Active Assistant: Intel [Subconscious ]
> Avatar Set: Anthro Tuxedo
> Options: Create | Destroy | Modify | Change Avatar
> Skills: Waterbending – Basic
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After that long day of discoveries and questions, I allowed myself some time to digest everything. I didn't jump between worlds again, I stayed here, in my own space, trying to understand who I was now — and what I could become.
Some time has passed. This place has changed a few times. I have changed it. I have deleted everything I had done while experimenting with my creative freedom, it could be better. Now there are more colors to see around. The wind blows, the "sunlight" is warm, sometimes it rains or it is cold.
I've tried to put some animals and insects around, but I don't seem to be capable enough to make them act as independent beings. To do that I'd need to increase my [Understanding] or whatever. Essentially, it's a lot like the leveling system in RPGs . When I reach 100% I "level up" and gain a point that I can spend to do something I couldn't do before. The difference is that I don't gain experience by killing monsters and completing quests, but by understanding, learning, thinking, and meditating. I don't know how it works. I'm at 99.43% now. It took me so long to get here. I don't even know how much time I spent reading or asking questions.
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The silence in my space was as dense as my concentration. I was sitting in front of a small crystal that was slowly rotating in my hand, glowing with a pulsating, mesmerizing light. It was beautiful, yes, but... something about it bothered me. Maybe it was something deeper, more intrinsic, something I had never really stopped to question.
— System, what is magic? — My voice cut through the silence. I was surprised by the question, so sudden and direct.
> Magic, according to its functional definition, is the manipulation of latent energy in the environment and in the user to produce effects that alter perceived or material reality.
The answer came almost automatically, as if it had been rehearsed thousands of times. But that still wasn't enough.
— Okay ... but what does that really mean? I mean, what is this energy? Why can some of us use it and others can't? Why are there so many different forms? Black, white, elemental, green... is that just a name or is there something bigger behind it?
There was a pause. Long enough that I began to question whether the system had understood my questions.
> If you wish to learn more, it is recommended to start from information from your home world. Would you like to begin a [Research]?
A [Research], huh? Well, I 'm curious and I might end up completing my [Understanding], so I guess it's worth it.
— Okay, let's get started.
> Starting transfer...
It doesn't take long for me to reach my destination. A library. The library was immense. Endless rows of dark wooden bookshelves spiraled around the space, as if defying gravity. The light there was diffuse, soft, like the glow of a sunset that never faded. Between the shelves, small chandeliers floated in the air, their flames not burning and changing color as I passed. The floor was covered in an old, richly decorated rug, so soft that it muffled even the sound of my footsteps.
The air had a distinct smell, a mixture of aged paper, polished wood, and something indefinable, almost like the scent of knowledge waiting to be discovered. Birds with translucent feathers flew across the ceiling, carrying small pieces of parchment between their beaks, as if they were messengers of ancient information. Intel and I invented this place so he could stay when I didn't need him so much, so he could focus on processing data.
— Hi Intel, still working?
> — I'm always working, thank you very much.
He answers curtly, still focused on the board in front of him, covered in incomprehensible scribbles. Crossed lines, formulas that looked more like ancient runes, intricate diagrams that connected one idea to another in a network that was almost impossible to follow.
— Always so serious, huh? - I said, crossing my arms and watching what he did.
>— I can't afford to relax. If you want progress, I need to work.
He replied without even looking at me, scribbling something new in the corner of the board.
— Well, I came here to begin research on magic. The system said it would be useful to start from my home world.
Intel stopped, finally turning to face me.
>— Finally, huh. After dreaming so much about using magic, you want to know what it is, don't you? Heh .
— I guess you could say that...
>— This research has been ready for a while now.
Intel snaps his fingers, and on a table across the way, stacks and stacks of books are created. Books that were on the shelves, but that made their way to the table on their own.
>— There you go. Have fun.
Ugh ... I expected it to be quite a lot, but not this much!
— Seriously? All of that? — I said, as I stared at the huge pile of books on the table.
Intel crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow, which looked almost comical on him.
> — What did you expect? Magic isn't just "waving your hands and hoping for results." It's a science. An art. And like any of them, it comes with… a lot of homework. I thought you'd already figured that out.
He emphasized the last part with a smirk, clearly pleased with my discomfort. I sighed, pulling up a chair.
— Okay, let's go. Where do I start?
>— Well, that depends. Do you want the historical approach, which explains how humanity began to interpret magic? Or do you prefer the scientific approach, which tries to analyze the energetic composition behind it? Or... — He paused, his gaze provocative. — Are you just looking for quick answers to make your life easier?
— You already know the answer.
>— I know, but I still like hearing you admit it.
I rolled my eyes and pulled the first book from the stack. The cover was black leather, with symbols etched in silver that seemed to pulse slightly. The title read: "The Unseen Foundations: The Foundation of Magic."
Sounds like a good start.
>— Excellent choice. This book covers what you should have learned at the beginning, before you start "experimenting" without understanding the basics.
I ignored the comment, opened the book, and began to read. The handwriting was elegant, almost dancing, and the words seemed to glow as I absorbed them.
"Magic is not created. It is discovered."
That sentence right at the beginning made me stop. I read it again, letting it sink into my mind.
" It belongs to no one and is owned by no one. Magic is the essence of existence, the fabric that binds all things together. Manipulating it is not an act of creation, but of interpretation."
I closed the book for a moment, leaning back in my chair and looking at Intel.
—Does that mean magic isn't something we "create"? We just... harness something that's already there?
Intel shrugged.
>— Basically. You never create something out of nothing. There is always a trade-off, a balance being restored. That is why magic requires understanding, Luner. Without it, it is like trying to tinker with a complex mechanism without understanding how it works.
His words echoed in my mind as I returned to the book.
"The key to understanding magic is to understand that it responds not to force, but to understanding. The greater the knowledge, the greater the power."
I closed the book again, but this time for another reason.
— System, how much longer until I complete my [Understanding]?
> Current comprehension level is 99.61%.
Hm. I think I'll need more than a few books for that.
Chapter 1: The First Sparks:
"The first signs of what we call magic can be found in the cave paintings and rituals of prehistoric cultures. It was a world where everything was alive, and magic was the language that united the living with the dead, the visible with the invisible.
Even before words were written, humans painted their stories on cave walls. Figures danced around giant animals in scenes that could be described as hunting ... but there was more to it. Some archaeologists believe these paintings were more than just records—they were wishes, prayers, or perhaps spells to ensure the success of the hunt.
Shamans were the pillars of these early communities. They believed they could travel between the worlds of the living and the spirits. They wore animal masks, danced in circles, and went into trances. Fires were lit, herbs were burned, and chants echoed into the night. Everything was done to attract the favor of the unseen forces that governed the world."
—It feels so primitive, yet so... connected. — I murmured, imagining those early humans trying to make sense of such a vast, unknown world.
"Magic here was not separate from everyday life. It was life. Eating, surviving, loving—all of these depended on pleasing the spirits and understanding the signs of the world around us."
Chapter 2: The Birth of Traditions:
"As humanity advanced, magic began to solidify into more structured traditions. This was the beginning of civilization, and with it came the first written records of magical practices.
The Egyptians were masters at turning magic into an art and science. Their priests were seen as mediators between the gods and mortals. The Book of the Dead, for example, was a guide to the afterlife, filled with spells and detailed instructions for protecting the soul during its journey. Each hieroglyph seemed charged with power, as if the words had a life of their own.
In Mesopotamia, clay tablets recorded rituals used to ward off demons, cure illnesses, and even predict the future. The Babylonians believed that magic was intertwined with the stars, and their astrologers were consulted for everything from planting crops to battles.
In India, the Vedas contained powerful mantras used to invoke divine forces and manipulate nature, while in China, the I Ching—the Book of Changes—was used to interpret the flow of energy in the universe.
Each culture had its own view of what magic was, but they all shared the same essence: the attempt to understand and control the invisible world."
Chapter 3: Magic in the Dark Ages:
"During the Middle Ages, magic became a dangerous secret. The Church, which sought to control the spiritual narrative, labeled many magical practices as heresy.
Fear of the unknown grew like a shadow over Europe. Witch hunts became common, and anyone who demonstrated unusual knowledge—whether a healer who used herbs to cure or an astronomer who observed the stars—was accused of practicing black magic.
Alchemists, however, walked a fine line between magic and science. They sought to turn lead into gold, create the elixir of eternal life, or find the philosopher's stone. Although many were persecuted, their practices helped lay the foundation for modern chemistry.
It was an era of fear, but also of silent resistance. Many kept their practices secret, passing knowledge from generation to generation, hidden from watchful eyes."
Chapter 4: The Renaissance and the New Magic :
"With the Renaissance, magic began to emerge from the shadows, mixing with the spirit of discovery and innovation of the age.
Great thinkers like Giordano Bruno, who believed in the infinity of the universe, were influenced by magical ideas. Astrology flourished, and the study of the planets became both a scientific and a spiritual practice.
Alchemy gained new followers, including figures such as Isaac Newton, who devoted much of his life to studying alchemical texts. The boundaries between science, magic and religion were blurred, and the world was full of possibilities.
Magic in this period was no longer seen as mere superstition. It became a quest to understand the fundamental laws of the universe."
Chapter 5: Magic in the Modern World:
"Today, magic survives in unexpected ways. It is in cultural traditions, in spiritual practices, and even in the stories we tell.
Religions such as modern Paganism, Wicca, and other esoteric traditions keep the flame of magic alive. Grimoires , once secret, are now published and sold as spiritual guides.
In science, many concepts that once seemed magical—such as genetic manipulation or space exploration—have become reality.
Maybe magic was never about casting spells or transforming objects. Maybe it was always about
human desire to understand the unknown and transform dreams into reality."
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I closed the book, feeling as if I had traveled centuries in just a few pages. Magic seemed less of a mystery and more of a natural extension of human curiosity.
"Types and Categories of Magic." I picked a book from the pile titled "Types of Magic and Their Fundamental Structures ." The cover was dark, but it shone with gold details that formed concentric circles. As soon as I opened it, I realized that the contents were divided into short chapters, each dedicated to a different category of magic.
"Magic can be classified in many ways, depending on its origin, method, and application. However, the most common division is between Elemental, Ritual, Intentional, and Artifact magic ."
—Elemental, huh ? — I muttered, turning the page.
"Elemental Magic:
Elemental magic is the direct manipulation of natural forces: fire, water, air and earth. Each element carries a distinct energy and requires a particular attunement from the magician."
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I kept reading about how the elements balance each other: fire consumes, water flows, air adapts, and earth sustains. Some magicians, the book said, dedicate their lives to a single element, while others attempt to master all four—a task that, the text said, rarely ends well. It makes sense. It's not like fire and water are natural friends.
"Ritualistic Magic:
Rituals are the heart of structured magic. They channel energies through specific symbols, words, and actions, creating a stable network of power."
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This section was fascinating. It discussed how rituals could range from simple circles drawn on the ground to grand ceremonies involving several people. The key, the text said, was precision. One mistake in a ritual could result in nothing…or something disastrous.
"Intentional Magic:
Intentional magic relies entirely on the willpower and focus of the magician. It is the purest form of energy manipulation, but also the most difficult to master."
This was the one that interested me the most. It seemed so… raw, so visceral. The idea of shaping the world with your mind alone was appealing, but the book warned that intentional magic required a deep understanding of yourself and your limits.
" Artifact Magic :
Magical artifacts are tools created to channel or store magical energy. From wands and rings to crystals and grimoires , these items extend the range and precision of magic."
So this is why crystals are so important.
>— And you thought they were just cute. — Intel commented from the corner, without even looking at me.
I put the first book aside and picked up another, titled "The Weight of Power: The Ethics of Magic."
"Magic is power. And like any power, it can be used to create or destroy, to heal or to harm. Its nature is neither good nor evil—that depends on the person using it."
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The text spoke of magicians who used their gifts to cure diseases, feed the hungry and protect the defenseless.
But it also mentioned those who allowed themselves to be consumed by power, using magic to dominate, destroy and subjugate.
"The real ethical question in magic is: How much are you willing to pay for what you want?"
That sentence made me stop. Pay?
>— Energy, time, sanity. Nothing comes for free, even to someone with your abilities. Do you think that's unfair? Well, the universe is not known for being forgiving.
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I continued reading about how wizards of ages past sought to balance their actions with the consequences. Some created codes of conduct, while others isolated themselves completely to avoid harming the world around them.
"The Connection Between Magic and Science ." I picked up a third book, with a metallic-colored cover and the title "Magic or Science? The Two Faces of Knowledge."
Many ancient magical practices gave rise to modern sciences. Alchemy became chemistry, astrology evolved into astronomy, and even medicine carried traces of healers and shamans."
The text detailed how Isaac Newton studied alchemy in secret, while other famous scientists, such as Paracelsus , mixed magical practices with empirical methods.
"The main difference between magic and science is in language. Where science seeks to explain, magic seeks to connect."
I closed the book for a moment, letting that sentence echo in my mind.
"Entities and Energy ." The next book was more peculiar. The cover seemed to pulse slightly, as if it were alive. The title read: "Entities and Energy: The Force Behind Magic."
"Magic does not exist in isolation. It is fueled by invisible forces that permeate the world. Some call it energy, others call it spirit, and still others believe it is a conscious being."
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The book spoke of energy nexuses, places where magical power was strongest. It also described entities that could be summoned to help or hinder—nature spirits, ancient gods, even life forms created by magic itself.
— So all of this depends on something external?
> — Not always. Sometimes the strength comes from within. But even you need something to connect your energy to the world. It's not complicated… it just requires attention.
The last book in this round was "Words of Power: The Language of Magic".
"Words are the most powerful tool in magic. They transform intention into action, thought into reality. But words, by themselves, have no power. It is the intention behind them that shapes their effect."
The text spoke of runes, incantations, and forgotten languages. Some words carried so much meaning that they seemed to vibrate in the air, as if the universe responded to them.
"Magic, in the end, is a conversation between the magician and the world. And like all conversations, it requires attention, empathy and wisdom."
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I put the book aside and took a deep breath. My mind seemed to be overflowing with information, but I still felt like there was something missing.
I ran my fingers over the cover of the last book on the table. It was plain and simple, made of a material that looked like leather but had a strange sheen in the light. The title, "Desire," was embossed in silver letters, so minimalist that it almost went unnoticed among the other volumes.
— "Desire" , huh? — I murmured, leafing through the first pages. Unlike the others, this book had no index. There were no clearly defined chapters. Just a continuous text that seemed to flow like a river.
"Everything begins with a desire. Before moving mountains, before lighting stars, before even uttering a word, the seed of everything is the will."
The words danced across the page, almost as if they were being read directly into my mind.
"Desire is the invisible force that drives existence. It is what separates the static from the dynamic, the empty from the filled. It is desire that gives shape to the world and to what we call magic."
My interest peaked. I leaned forward, flipping through it slowly.
"Magic, in essence, is mastery over reality. It bends what is into what can be. And what drives this transformation? Desire. The magician does not cast spells just because he can. He casts them because he wants to. He wants protection. He wants change. He wants power."
—That makes sense... — I muttered, almost without realizing it.
"But desire alone is not enough. Willpower is what turns desire into action. It is the bridge between imagination and reality."
— I stopped to think about it. How many times, when using magic, had I felt this? The will, the focus, the intention... it all seemed to be connected.
"Imagine the universe as a blank canvas. Desire is the idea, willpower is the brush, and magic is the paint that colors the creation. But here's the problem: the brush needs paint to work."
— Ink... energy?
> — Good deduction. — He appeared beside me, with a slightly satisfied tone. — I admit, that was faster than I expected.
I continued reading, each word seeming to carry greater weight.
"Humanity, by its very nature, is full of desires. Dreams, ambitions, needs—all of these are forms of desire. But contrary to the stories we tell, humanity lacks the ink, the energy needed to transform these desires into magic. This energy, which many call mana, is what is needed for desire to become power ."
The text continued, explaining :
"Mana is the life force that connects a being to the universe. In worlds where mana flows freely, even the simplest desire can be manifested. But on Earth, mana is scarce, almost nonexistent. That is why humans need tools, rituals, and a deep understanding to channel even a glimmer of magic."
I closed the book for a moment, staring at its cover.
— So, that's it? Humanity has never been incapable of using magic... it's just that the necessary resource is missing?
Intel nodded, crossing his arms.
>— Exactly. It's like having an engine without fuel. You can have all the potential in the world, but without the right power source, nothing happens. Simple, but effective.
I opened the book again, curious to see where this led.
"And yet, the lack of mana has not stopped humanity from wishing, from dreaming, from creating. Perhaps, in the end, that is what makes us unique: even without the power to change reality with our hands, we find ways to shape it with our minds."
I closed the book once more, this time with a feeling of deep respect.
Desire, willpower, energy... It seems so simple, but it is so complex.
>— Simple and complex, like everything that really matters. But of course, not everyone realizes this right away.
I looked at Intel, feeling something had changed in me. It wasn't just about magic or power. It was about humanity, about who I had been and who I was now.
"Desire alone is not enough. Willpower, though essential, is not enough either. For magic to flourish, a deep understanding is required—not only of the phenomenon itself, but of the nature of the world in which it occurs."
"Magic is not a miracle. It is a process. A dynamic and delicate phenomenon that demands respect and understanding. Each magical act is a dance between intention and execution, mediated by tools such as rituals, drawings, formulas, words and symbols. It is these tools that shape the raw energy, giving it form and purpose."
I flipped through the pages, impressed by the depth of the explanations.
"Throughout history, humanity has never given up on its desires. Even without the essential energy — mana — it has sought alternative means to fill this gap. These methods have included faith, mystical rituals, invocations of mythical beings, and even scientific exploration. Each attempt has been a reflection of the same impulse: the search for control over reality."
The next passage seemed darker.
"But in all these attempts, humanity has stumbled upon an insurmountable obstacle: the nature of the world itself. Earth was not designed to house an abundant flow of mana. It is a world where life energy is scarce, dispersed, and deeply rooted in natural cycles. Any attempt to manipulate this energy on a large scale has gone against the natural balance of the planet—and balance always exacts a price."
It was against nature... - I murmured, absorbing the words.
"There have been recorded moments when humanity has come close. Alchemical experiments that seemed on the verge of making the impossible a reality. Collective rituals that nearly awakened latent forces. Scientific inventions that attempted to imitate what magic could do. But all have failed. And in some cases, these failures have not only brought destruction, but have also reinforced the boundaries of the world, as if it were protecting itself."
Intel, standing beside me, seemed to be watching my reaction.
>— That's an important lesson, Luner. That's why magic isn't just a privilege, it's a responsibility. Without understanding, you're not manipulating magic—you're playing with something you don't understand. And that, historically, never ends well.
I continued reading, now with a greater weight on the words.
"Humanity tried. It tried in every way possible. And in its failure, it discovered something essential: it was not a lack of power that limited it, but a lack of harmony. Magic is not an act of domination. It is an act of balance. Only those who understand the dance between strength, intention, and respect for the world around them can truly touch the fabric of reality."
I closed the book, feeling that there was something deeper in what he said.
— So... humanity has never been incapable. It's just never been in harmony with the world?
Intel nodded.
>— Exactly. That's why you're in such a unique position. You can create a balance that no one else has achieved. But remember: even with all these skills, there are limits. Going beyond them is never a good idea.
I was silent, thinking about it.
—But then, why might I be able to use magic?
>— You are different from the others in your worlds. You are an anomaly, something that does not follow the rules. You are intriguing, but also dangerous if misused.
— Right, but still... How does it all make sense? Magic, mana, balance, desire... It seems like the more I discover, the more questions arise.
>— It's natural. You're at the starting point of something bigger. The difference is that, unlike any other creature, you don't have to submit to an already existing system.
"I can make my own," I muttered, mostly to myself.
>— Exactly. You are free. You can structure a personal magical system, shaped to your will, to your references, to the way you wish to interact with the world. And although each world has its own limits — a natural resistance to the introduction of new ideas or very intense concepts —, with creativity and intelligence, it is possible to adapt, work around and integrate.
— So... if I'm smart enough, I can use almost everything I learn, even in very different worlds?
>— You can. It's not about imposing. It's about infiltrating, harmonizing. Creating something essential enough to function as a core... a magical skeleton that holds up even under different rules.
Intel gave an exaggerated sigh, as if he was talking to an impatient child.
>— Luner, you have just absorbed knowledge that would take centuries for anyone else to understand. Your mind is spinning with new ideas, possibilities, paths. This is good. But it can also be dangerous.
I crossed my arms, a little annoyed.
— I just... feel like I need to keep going. Like something is finally starting to make sense, and stopping now would be wasting that momentum.
>— And that's exactly why you need to stop for a while. It's the moment when clarity is most needed that excesses confuse the most.
He stood up, stretching his shoulders.
>— Trust me. Let the ideas settle. When they settle, you will see much more than you do now.
I took a deep breath. I knew he was right. But I also felt that restlessness burning inside me—the desire to go further, to unravel everything, to understand everything. A new hunger.
— Okay, okay... I'm going to take a break. Rest a little.
>— Good choice — he said, with a half smile. — Even the sharpest of edges needs to rest between cuts.
I nodded as I stood and paced the space. The silence of the library was comforting, but my mind kept echoing the words from that last book. Desire. Harmony. Balance.
I walked to a wider space in the library, where the light seemed more intense, as if that place was the nerve center of everything.
— System, let's go back.
> Starting jump back to main room.
The leap was quick and familiar. In an instant, I was back in the home I had built in my original space. But now, it felt a little different. Or maybe it was me who was different. Without thinking much, I sank onto the living room couch, letting out a heavy sigh.
— Ugh ... I didn't expect magic to be this much. It always seemed like just a wave of the hand, something simple.
Before I could sink any further into my thoughts, the system window appeared in front of me.
> [Research] centered on magic has granted you the title [Apprentice].
I frowned, curious.
— Title? What exactly does that do?
> The [Apprentice] title is a passive buff. It is always active while equipped. Current effect: Reduces the amount of study and observation required to learn magic-related skills by 3%. The title can be improved through constant practice and further study of magic.
— Hmm ... Isn't that too little?
Soon after, another notification appeared with a faint golden glow.
> Your [Understanding] level has reached 100%. Do you wish to consume the [Capacity Point] now?
I blinked a few times in surprise. Oh, right. I had forgotten about that. After so much time immersed in reading and asking questions, the world around me had almost ceased to exist. But now… now this was my chance. The first real expansion of who I am—or what I can do.
— Yes. Let's do it.
I touched the window without hesitation. Immediately, the system displayed a new, more complex interface, as if inviting me to think beyond the obvious.
> [Capability Point] is granted upon reaching a new stage of [Understanding]. It can be used to accomplish something beyond your normal capabilities. Please describe the desired phenomenon in the field below.
The blank field stretched out before me like a blank sheet of paper, waiting for me to give shape to a dream.
I stood there, staring. The first thought that crossed my mind was... divide up tasks. Make things easier. Create more versions of myself to take care of the tedious parts, like calculations, strategies, reading, and cataloging information. Having an army of helper minds seemed logical. It seemed... efficient.
Intel appeared beside me, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. And of course he did.
>— Let me guess: you're going to ask me to create more of me? Copies? Conscious, multitasking assistants with refined taste and impeccable temperament?
— No. — The answer came faster than I expected. And I was surprised by it.
Intel arched an eyebrow, as if he had just heard a grotesque mathematical error.
>— No? Wow. That was unexpected. I thought you were finally going to give me a break.
— It wouldn't be fair. Nor wise. Creating true consciousness isn't like writing an algorithm. They're entities. Thoughts that live. I'm not ready for that yet. Maybe someday ... but not today.
Intel was silent for a second, and then nodded slowly, a slight smile on the corner of his lips.
>— Now you really look like someone who has learned something.
I turned my attention back to the text field and took a deep breath. I thought about everything I had been carrying around with me—literally. Objects I had created or found, notes, fragments of ideas that didn't fit in the moment but that I wanted to save for later or take on a trip. Things that didn't have a place but that I didn't want to lose.
I began to write, calmly, choosing each word with precision :
"Creation of a personal [Pocket Space]. A private dimensional space, invisible to the outside world, connected directly to my consciousness. It must allow for the storage and instant retrieval of objects. Its storage and preservation capabilities must be the best possible."
I paused for a second, rereading what I had written. This was it. A space of my own. Where I could keep fragments of what I discovered, fragile, valuable, symbolic things. A place that wouldn't get lost in the rush of the world. Intel was watching over my shoulder.
>— Hm. Not bad. Much less pretentious than I expected, but... functional. And elegant. You're learning.
— I want something simple to start with, but that will last me.
I tapped "Confirm".
> Processing...
The interface glowed, and for an instant, the air around me seemed to float. The ground beneath my feet felt lighter, as if gravity were wavering. Then, a faint light streaked through the space, creating a translucent spiral that disappeared with a gust of wind.
And then, I felt it. Like a new muscle I'd always had, but had just awakened. The [Pocket Space] was there—connected to my consciousness, waiting to be used.
I reached out, focusing on a small fragment of metal I had kept with me. I thought of it, and it was gone. Absorbed, stored. Safe.
I tried to bring up another one. The blue crystal I had been carrying for days. It appeared in my palm, intact, as if it had never left. I smiled. But then, a new window appeared before me:
> Current capacity: up to 1m³ total volume. Weight limit: 1.5kg. Increases depend on improvement of [Understanding] and dimensional mastery.
My expression twitched a little.
—That's it then. Small, for now.
>— But useful. — Intel said, his tone almost serious. — You don't need an arsenal, Luner. You need something that will grow with you. And this... this will.
I nodded.
— One step at a time.
>— And look, you finally learned not to stumble in a hurry.
I stared at the window for a few more seconds, reading again the cold numbers that now defined the boundaries of my [Pocket Space].
I frowned.
—"Dimensional domain", huh? What the hell does that mean?
Intel, as always, was already expecting the question. He approached slowly, walking around me as if looking for the best way to explain something complex without hurting my dignity.
>— In simple terms? It's the space you can call your own. Literally. This place where you are now… this "inner world" that you have built—whether consciously or not—is part of your dimensional domain. It seems infinite, doesn't it?
He stopped behind me, and with a gesture, the scene around us changed. The sky darkened, as if we were standing beneath an endless vault of black glass, dotted with motionless stars.
I looked around. The vastness was suffocatingly serene. But now I noticed something... artificial. As if the world pretended to have depth, but everything was a projection.
>— But it's not. — Intel completed. — It's more like a model of a real universe. A sandbox tailor-made for you to explore ideas, experiment, learn. And of course… store things.
He snapped his fingers, and an invisible grid appeared in the air, demarcating blocks that stretched out in all directions—like translucent cubes stacked in a void. Each one seemed to contain fragments of environments: shelves, filing cabinets, dismantled devices, frozen thoughts.
>— This is the true size of your domain now. Small, contained, secure. But with plenty of room to grow.
—So... the [Space Pocket] is connected to this?
>— Exactly. Think of it as a tangible extension of your influence over this space. A piece that you have learned to fold and carry with you, like someone tearing off a piece of their own world and hiding it in their coat pocket.
The concept began to form in my mind.
— And as I move forward…?
>— You expand what you can control. With more [Understanding], you strengthen the connection with that space. And with that, you can expand it, make it denser, more complex. Your pocket grows. So does your domain.
— And what happens when it grows too much?
Intel gave me an enigmatic smile.
>— Then you run the risk of beginning to touch the edges of what passes for "reality." When your domain is vast enough, it will not be just a supporting space... it can be inhabited, shaped, even superimposed on the world outside it. But that... is far beyond the present.
— It looks dangerous.
>— Everything worth doing is.
I stared into the void around me. My "home world," as Intel called it. The vastness still seemed almost infinite—full of possibilities, but… ethereal.
I looked back at my hand, where I felt the presence of the [Space Pocket]. A real, concrete fragment. Small. Fragile.
"If this pocket is connected to my home space… then why is it so small?" I asked, frowning. "In here, there seems to be miles of free space, but outside, I can barely fit a shopping bag."
Intel chuckled, as if he had been expecting this question all along.
>— You finally realized, huh? This place… your home space… it seems vast because it needs to be. But the truth? It's shallower than you think.
- Like this?
Intel twirled his finger in the air, and around us the world distorted. The ground beneath my feet fell away, revealing a sea of dark sand. This was no ordinary sand—the grains were tiny fragments of thoughts, memories, unrealized possibilities. Above floated fragmented images of what had once been the sky.
> — What you see here is a fluid, malleable simulation. A sea of ideas, held together by your consciousness. But in real terms? Tangible? Think of it as a wisp of mist surrounded by mirrors.
He knelt down and picked up a handful of the dark sand. When he opened his hand, the grains danced in the air, floating in slow motion, as light as stardust.
>— Now compare that to the [Pocket Space]. There, every cubic centimeter is a solid structure, densified to the extreme, folded against the laws of real space. What you have here is like... an oil painting on a glass wall. What you have there, is a brick.
— So… this place is more of a "setting" than a structure?
>— Exactly. Here, you can walk for hours in any direction, but you're just going around in an egg. The [Pocket Space], on the other hand... it's like having torn out a piece of the real world with your fingernails. Dense. Consistent. Limited, but true.
— And that's why it starts so small.
>— Yes. Shaping something real requires effort. Energy. Understanding. Inside, you are a dreaming god. In your pocket, you are a bricklayer trying to build a house with clay and nails.
I stood in silence, staring at the distorted horizon around us. It seemed to move slightly, as if it were breathing along with me.
— So the space of origin... it's like I'm dreaming of a castle, but I only have a handful of rocks in my hand.
>— Almost there. — Intel smiled. — Think of a model made of smoke. Beautiful, light, grand. But if you want to put a chair there... it will sink.
He snapped his fingers again. The illusion of the sky shattered into pieces, revealing a flat obsidian ceiling.
>— The [Space Pocket] is the beginning of that which can be solid. That which can exist outside of the dream.
— And as I understand more... does it grow?
>— Yes. You learn to compact the impossible. To make the most of space. To dream with less fog and more stone.
I looked at the emptiness around me one last time. Now, it seemed less immense… and much more fragile.
Intel snapped his fingers elegantly, as if he were conducting an invisible orchestra.
The world around me reshaped itself in the blink of an eye—the shattered sky reformed into soft shades of blue and gold, the dark sands disappeared beneath a glassy floor that reflected constellations, and the walls of space dissolved into endless horizons. Everything seemed too beautiful to be real... and maybe it wasn't.
>— There you go. Back to the default setting. Much more pleasing to the eye, don't you think?
— You have taste in aesthetics, at least.
>— "At least"? How ungrateful.
I looked at the recreated world around me. I knew it was false. An illusion, beautiful as a dream, but still... comforting. Familiar.
— There are a lot of things you don't explain to me, right?
Intel arched an eyebrow, smiling as if he had already expected exactly that sentence.
> — Of course it does. Do you want to sink into a sea of concepts, breaking your mind just to understand why the dimensional texture oscillates between semi-quantum planes ?
I grimaced, as if my own brain had slipped down a step.
— ... Okay, no thanks.
my job . You just need to point where you want to go... and not die along the way.
"Fair enough," I grumbled, crossing my arms. "But don't expect me not to ask more questions."
>— I tell you enough to make you seem smart, but not enough to make you freak out. It's a delicate balance.
— Or convenient.
>— Also.
He smiled once more, and then stepped away slightly, letting the illusory world shine around me with all its artificial calm.
And there, in the center of that space that was mine — but still so little understood —, I felt a subtle certainty grow within me.