The command was a silent utterance, a focused projection of will into the cool, quiet space of his own consciousness.
Analyze the light.
For three years, Arthur had been a passive observer, a sponge soaking in a sea of incomprehensible, beautiful data. Now, a switch had been flipped. The Nexus was online, and the observer had just become an analyst. The response was immediate, not as a voice or a sound, but as a pure, structured flow of information that unfolded in his mind with the clean precision of a masterfully written scientific paper.
[๐๐ง๐๐ฅ๐ฒ๐ณ๐ข๐ง๐ ... ๐๐ง๐๐ฅ๐ฒ๐ฌ๐ข๐ฌ ๐๐จ๐ฆ๐ฉ๐ฅ๐๐ญ๐.]
[๐๐ก๐ ๐๐ฆ๐๐ข๐๐ง๐ญ ๐ฅ๐ข๐ ๐ก๐ญ ๐ข๐ฌ ๐ ๐ฎ๐ง๐ข๐ช๐ฎ๐, ๐๐ฎ๐๐ฅ-๐ฌ๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ๐๐ ๐๐จ๐ซ๐ฆ ๐จ๐ ๐๐ข๐จ-๐ฌ๐ฉ๐ข๐ซ๐ข๐ญ๐ฎ๐๐ฅ ๐ซ๐๐๐ข๐๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง. ๐๐ซ๐ข๐ฆ๐๐ซ๐ฒ ๐ฌ๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ๐๐๐ฌ ๐ข๐๐๐ง๐ญ๐ข๐๐ข๐๐ ๐๐ฌ '๐๐๐ฅ๐ฉ๐๐ซ๐ข๐จ๐ง' (๐๐ข๐ฅ๐ฏ๐๐ซ ๐๐ฉ๐๐๐ญ๐ซ๐ฎ๐ฆ) ๐๐ง๐ '๐๐๐ฎ๐ซ๐๐ฅ๐ข๐ง' (๐๐จ๐ฅ๐๐๐ง ๐๐ฉ๐๐๐ญ๐ซ๐ฎ๐ฆ). ๐๐ก๐ ๐ซ๐๐๐ข๐๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง ๐ฉ๐๐ซ๐ฆ๐๐๐ญ๐๐ฌ ๐๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐ฆ๐๐ญ๐ญ๐๐ซ ๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก๐ข๐ง ๐ข๐ญ๐ฌ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ญ๐ข๐ฏ๐ ๐ซ๐๐ง๐ ๐.]
[๐๐ซ๐จ๐ฉ๐๐ซ๐ญ๐ข๐๐ฌ ๐ข๐ง๐๐ฅ๐ฎ๐๐: ๐๐๐๐๐ฅ๐๐ซ๐๐ญ๐๐ ๐๐๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฎ๐ฅ๐๐ซ ๐ซ๐๐ ๐๐ง๐๐ซ๐๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง, ๐ง๐๐ฎ๐ญ๐ซ๐๐ฅ๐ข๐ณ๐๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง ๐จ๐ ๐๐จ๐ซ๐ซ๐ฎ๐ฉ๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐๐ง๐๐ซ๐ ๐ข๐๐ฌ, ๐๐ง๐ ๐๐ข๐ซ๐๐๐ญ ๐ง๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ๐ข๐ฌ๐ก๐ฆ๐๐ง๐ญ ๐จ๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐ฌ๐ฉ๐ข๐ซ๐ข๐ญ๐ฎ๐๐ฅ ๐๐จ๐ซ๐, ๐๐๐ฌ๐ข๐ ๐ง๐๐ญ๐๐ '๐ รซ๐'.]
[๐๐จ๐ง๐๐ฅ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ข๐จ๐ง: ๐๐ซ๐จ๐ฅ๐จ๐ง๐ ๐๐ ๐๐ฑ๐ฉ๐จ๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ซ๐ ๐ข๐ฌ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐ฉ๐ซ๐ข๐ฆ๐๐ซ๐ฒ ๐๐๐ฎ๐ฌ๐๐ฅ ๐๐๐๐ญ๐จ๐ซ ๐๐จ๐ซ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐๐ง๐ก๐๐ง๐๐๐ ๐ฉ๐ก๐ฒ๐ฌ๐ข๐จ๐ฅ๐จ๐ ๐ข๐๐๐ฅ ๐๐ง๐ ๐ฌ๐ฉ๐ข๐ซ๐ข๐ญ๐ฎ๐๐ฅ ๐ฌ๐ญ๐๐ญ๐ ๐จ๐ ๐๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐ฅ๐จ๐๐๐ฅ ๐ฅ๐ข๐๐๐๐จ๐ซ๐ฆ๐ฌ.]
Arthur sat perfectly still on the smooth marble of the balcony, his toddler's body a stark contrast to the storm of activity in his mind.
He felt a thrill so pure and sharp it was almost painful. It was the intellectual ecstasy of discovery. Bio-spiritual radiation. The Nexus had given a name to the miracle. It had taken the divine, the poetic, the stuff of myth, and had pinned it to a corkboard with the sharp, clean pin of scientific terminology.
The light was not just beautiful. It was functional. It was a form of cosmic nutrition, an energy field that actively improved everything it touched. It explained the impossible vibrancy of the flowers in the gardens, the tireless grace of his family, the very sense of holiness that permeated the air. This was not a passive stage on which gods and elves lived; it was an active agent in their perfection. He felt an overwhelming urge to laugh, a bubbling up of pure, unadulterated joy that he had to suppress into a wide, silent grin, lest he draw unwanted attention.
After the external environment, the next logical step was an internal one. To conduct any experiment, one needed a baseline. What was he, in the context of this new, energy-rich world? The question formed with perfect clarity. Nexus, run a full diagnostic on me. What am I?
[๐๐๐ค๐ง๐จ๐ฐ๐ฅ๐๐๐ ๐๐. ๐๐ข๐ฌ๐ฉ๐ฅ๐๐ฒ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐๐จ๐ฌ๐ญ'๐ฌ ๐๐ฎ๐ซ๐ซ๐๐ง๐ญ ๐ฌ๐ญ๐๐ญ๐ฎ๐ฌ.]
The now-familiar mental image of a status report materialized. It was more detailed than the fragmented updates he had received during the Nexus's boot-up sequence, a complete and sobering assessment.
[๐๐๐ฆ๐: ๐๐ซ๐ญ๐ก๐ฎ๐ซ ๐๐ง๐ ๐ฐ๐ข๐จ๐ง]
[๐๐๐๐: ๐๐ฅ๐ (๐๐๐ง๐ฒ๐๐ซ ๐๐ซ๐จ๐ ๐๐ง๐ข๐ญ๐จ๐ซ ๐๐ข๐ง๐๐๐ ๐)]
[๐๐จ๐ง๐๐ข๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง: ๐๐๐๐ฅ๐ญ๐ก๐ฒ (๐๐ฎ๐ฏ๐๐ง๐ขile)]
[๐๐ฉ๐ข๐ซ๐ข๐ญ๐ฎ๐๐ฅ ๐๐จ๐ซ๐ (๐ รซ๐): ๐๐% ๐๐๐ญ๐๐ง๐ญ (๐๐จ๐ญ๐๐ง๐ญ๐ข๐๐ฅ: ๐๐ง๐๐๐ฅ๐๐ฎ๐ฅ๐๐ญ๐๐)]
[๐๐ก๐ฒ๐ฌ๐ข๐จ๐ฅ๐จ๐ ๐ฒ: ๐๐ง๐๐๐ฏ๐๐ฅ๐จ๐ฉ๐๐. ๐๐ข๐ ๐ก ๐๐๐๐ข๐ง๐ข๐ญ๐ฒ ๐๐จ๐ซ ๐๐ฆ๐๐ข๐๐ง๐ญ ๐๐ง๐๐ซ๐ ๐ฒ ๐๐๐ฌ๐จ๐ซ๐ฉ๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง.]
[๐๐๐ฑ๐ฎ๐ฌ ๐๐ฎ๐ ๐ ๐๐ฌ๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง: ๐๐ฆ๐ฆ๐๐๐ข๐๐ญ๐ ๐๐จ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐๐ง๐๐๐ฆ๐๐ง๐ญ ๐จ๐ ๐๐จ๐ฎ๐ง๐๐๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง๐๐ฅ ๐ญ๐ซ๐๐ข๐ง๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ข๐ฌ ๐๐๐ฏ๐ข๐ฌ๐๐ ๐ญ๐จ ๐๐๐ ๐ข๐ง ๐ฎ๐ง๐ฅ๐จ๐๐ค๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ฅ๐๐ญ๐๐ง๐ญ ๐ฉ๐จ๐ญ๐๐ง๐ญ๐ข๐๐ฅ.]
He focused on the key lines. "Ninety-eight percent latent." The term from his old life's physics classes came to mind: potential energy. He was a battery, fresh from the factory, holding a massive theoretical charge but currently outputting almost nothing. A dam holding back a vast reservoir. The "Uncalculated" potential was both tantalizing and terrifying. And the "high affinity for ambient energy absorption" was the final piece of the puzzle. He was designed to soak up the very radiation the Nexus had just analyzed. He was, in essence, a creature perfectly adapted to this world of light.
The Nexus's suggestion to begin training was logical, almost insistent in its pure, cold reasoning. But Arthur ignored it for now. Training without a complete data set was like setting sail without a map. He needed to know more. His thirst for information was an unquenchable fire, and he had only just taken his first sip of water.
With a grunt of effort that was pure toddler, he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. The cool, smooth surface of the marble floor was a familiar continent to him. He began to crawl, his movements still clumsy, a frustrating reminder of the disconnect between his mind's intent and his body's ability. His destination was a small object near the leg of a silken couch, a simple toy he had been given months ago. It was a bird, carved from a pale, shimmering wood, so exquisitely detailed that its tiny wooden feathers seemed to ripple in the light.
His small, chubby fingers, so ill-suited for delicate work, wrapped around the bird's smooth body. The wood was warm, almost alive to the touch. It did not feel inert like the plastic or dead wood he remembered. Okay, Nexus. Let's go from the macroscopic to the microscopic. What is this thing, really?
[๐๐ง๐๐ฅ๐ฒ๐ณ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ญ๐๐ซ๐ ๐๐ญ ๐จ๐๐ฃ๐๐๐ญ...]
The analysis that followed was beautiful in its sheer, ruthless detail.
[๐๐๐ญ๐๐ซ๐ข๐๐ฅ: ๐๐จ๐จ๐ ๐๐ซ๐จ๐ฆ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐ญ๐ซ๐๐ '๐๐ข๐จ๐ฅ๐๐ข๐ซรซ'. ๐๐๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฎ๐ฅ๐๐ซ ๐ฌ๐ญ๐ซ๐ฎ๐๐ญ๐ฎ๐ซ๐ ๐ข๐ฌ ๐ฎ๐ง๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ฎ๐๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฒ ๐๐๐ง๐ฌ๐ ๐๐ง๐ ๐ซ๐๐ฌ๐ข๐ฅ๐ข๐๐ง๐ญ. ๐๐ก๐ข๐ฌ ๐ข๐ฌ ๐ ๐ซ๐๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ฅ๐ญ ๐จ๐ ๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ญ๐๐ข๐ง๐๐ ๐๐๐ฌ๐จ๐ซ๐ฉ๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง ๐จ๐ ๐๐ข๐จ-๐ฌ๐ฉ๐ข๐ซ๐ข๐ญ๐ฎ๐๐ฅ ๐ซ๐๐๐ข๐๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง, ๐ฐ๐ก๐ข๐๐ก ๐ก๐๐ฌ ๐ซ๐๐ข๐ง๐๐จ๐ซ๐๐๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐ฅ๐ข๐ ๐ง๐ข๐ง ๐๐ง๐ ๐๐๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฎ๐ฅ๐จ๐ฌ๐ ๐๐ญ ๐ ๐ฌ๐ฎ๐๐๐ญ๐จ๐ฆ๐ข๐ ๐ฅ๐๐ฏ๐๐ฅ.]
[๐๐ง๐๐ซ๐ ๐ฒ ๐๐ข๐ ๐ง๐๐ญ๐ฎ๐ซ๐: ๐ ๐๐ข๐ง๐ญ ๐ซ๐๐ฌ๐ข๐๐ฎ๐๐ฅ ๐ฌ๐ฉ๐ข๐ซ๐ข๐ญ๐ฎ๐๐ฅ ๐๐ฌ๐ฌ๐๐ง๐๐ ๐๐๐ญ๐๐๐ญ๐๐. ๐๐จ๐ฎ๐ซ๐๐ ๐ข๐๐๐ง๐ญ๐ข๐๐ข๐๐ ๐๐ฌ '๐๐ซ๐๐๐ญ๐๐ซ'. ๐๐ก๐ ๐๐ฌ๐ฌ๐๐ง๐๐ ๐ก๐๐ฌ ๐ง๐จ ๐๐๐ญ๐ข๐ฏ๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ง๐๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง ๐๐ฎ๐ญ ๐ฌ๐๐ซ๐ฏ๐๐ฌ ๐๐ฌ ๐ ๐ฆ๐๐ญ๐๐ฉ๐ก๐ฒ๐ฌ๐ข๐๐๐ฅ ๐๐จ๐ง๐, ๐ซ๐๐ข๐ง๐๐จ๐ซ๐๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐จ๐๐ฃ๐๐๐ญ'๐ฌ ๐ฌ๐ญ๐ซ๐ฎ๐๐ญ๐ฎ๐ซ๐๐ฅ ๐ข๐ง๐ญ๐๐ ๐ซ๐ข๐ญ๐ฒ ๐๐ง๐ ๐ซ๐๐ฌ๐ข๐ฌ๐ญ๐๐ง๐๐ ๐ญ๐จ ๐๐๐๐๐ฒ.]
Arthur turned the bird over and over in his hands. He was holding proof. Proof that the "magic" of this world was not an abstract force, but a tangible property that infused everything. The elf who carved this toy had, consciously or not, imbued it with a fragment of his own Fรซa, his own soul-energy. It was a form of passive enchantment, a natural byproduct of creation in this super-saturated environment. He remembered the cheap, mass-produced plastic toys of his past life. They were soulless, dead things. This small wooden bird felt more real, more present, than any of them.
A shadow fell over him, soft and gentle. A presence entered the room that was more than just footsteps; it was a shift in the very atmosphere, a warmth that had nothing to do with temperature. A sweet, melodic humming, a tune as familiar to him as his own thoughts, reached his ears. His mother, Ilwen, had arrived. She moved with a liquid grace that seemed to defy the very concept of friction, her silver-gold hair a halo that captured and softened the light of the Trees. Her eyes, the color of a cloudless sky, held an eternity of love and patience as she smiled down at him.
She was his mother. He loved her with the pure, instinctual adoration of a child. But to the cold, analytical part of his mind, the part that now had a voice in the Nexus, she was something else entirely. She was the perfect control group. She was the finished product.
A flicker of what a more sentimental mind might call guilt passed through him. Was it wrong to view his own mother as a specimen to be studied? He dismissed the thought as inefficient. This was not about disrespect; it was about understanding. It was a necessary step. With his eyes fixed on her radiant form, he gave his most audacious command yet. Nexusโฆ analyze her.
The Nexus paused for a full second, a processing delay that spoke volumes about the sheer complexity of the target. Then, the data flowed.
[๐๐ง๐๐ฅ๐ฒ๐ณ๐ข๐ง๐ ...]
[๐๐๐ฌ๐ข๐ ๐ง๐๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง: ๐๐ฅ๐ฐ๐๐ง ๐จ๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐๐๐ง๐ฒ๐๐ซ]
[๐๐๐๐: ๐๐ฅ๐ (๐๐๐ง๐ฒ๐๐ซ ๐๐ซ๐จ๐ ๐๐ง๐ข๐ญ๐จ๐ซ ๐๐ข๐ง๐๐๐ ๐)]
[๐๐จ๐ง๐๐ข๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง: ๐๐ฉ๐ญ๐ข๐ฆ๐๐ฅ]
[๐๐ฉ๐ข๐ซ๐ข๐ญ๐ฎ๐๐ฅ ๐๐จ๐ซ๐ (๐ รซ๐): ๐๐๐% ๐๐๐ญ๐ฎ๐๐ฅ๐ข๐ณ๐๐. ๐๐ง ๐ฉ๐๐ซ๐๐๐๐ญ ๐ก๐๐ซ๐ฆ๐จ๐ง๐ข๐ ๐ซ๐๐ฌ๐จ๐ง๐๐ง๐๐ ๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐๐ฆ๐๐ข๐๐ง๐ญ ๐๐ง๐๐ซ๐ ๐ฒ. ๐๐จ ๐๐ข๐ฌ๐๐จ๐ซ๐๐๐ง๐๐ ๐๐๐ญ๐๐๐ญ๐๐.]
[๐๐ก๐ฒ๐ฌ๐ข๐จ๐ฅ๐จ๐ ๐ฒ: ๐๐๐ซ๐๐๐๐ญ๐๐ ๐๐ญ๐๐ญ๐. ๐๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐๐ข๐จ๐ฅ๐จ๐ ๐ข๐๐๐ฅ ๐ฉ๐ซ๐จ๐๐๐ฌ๐ฌ๐๐ฌ, ๐๐ซ๐จ๐ฆ ๐๐๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฎ๐ฅ๐๐ซ ๐ฆ๐ข๐ญ๐จ๐ฌ๐ข๐ฌ ๐ญ๐จ ๐ง๐๐ฎ๐ซ๐๐ฅ ๐ญ๐ซ๐๐ง๐ฌ๐ฆ๐ข๐ฌ๐ฌ๐ข๐จ๐ง, ๐๐ซ๐ ๐จ๐ฉ๐๐ซ๐๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐๐ญ ๐ฆ๐๐ฑ๐ข๐ฆ๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐ญ๐ก๐๐จ๐ซ๐๐ญ๐ข๐๐๐ฅ ๐๐๐๐ข๐๐ข๐๐ง๐๐ฒ. ๐๐จ ๐ฅ๐๐ญ๐๐ง๐ญ ๐ฉ๐จ๐ญ๐๐ง๐ญ๐ข๐๐ฅ ๐๐๐ญ๐๐๐ญ๐๐; ๐๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐ฉ๐จ๐ญ๐๐ง๐ญ๐ข๐๐ฅ ๐ก๐๐ฌ ๐๐๐๐ง ๐ซ๐๐๐ฅ๐ข๐ณ๐๐.]
Arthur felt a sense of awe so profound it almost buckled his infant knees. If he was a blueprint, she was the finished, living cathedral, glorious and complete. The ninety-eight percent of his Fรซa that was dormant potential was one hundred percent active and actualized in her. It was not just a powerful force; it was in "perfect harmonic resonance." She was not just living in the light; she was part of it. The light flowed into her and out of her in a seamless, perfect loop. She was an engine running at one hundred percent efficiency, without waste, without friction. It was a state of being so far beyond his own that he could barely comprehend it.
He now had a destination, a glowing, impossibly distant point on the map.
Ilwen's soft humming continued, and the palpable sense of peace it generated washed over him, calming the frantic excitement of his mind. He focused on that feeling, on the sound itself. He had analyzed light, matter, and a living being in a perfected state. Could the Nexus deconstruct something as intangible as a feeling generated by a song? Could it quantify a mother's magic? Nexus, analyze the sound she is making. Analyze the magic.
[๐๐ง๐๐ฅ๐ฒ๐ณ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐๐ฎ๐๐ข๐ญ๐จ๐ซ๐ฒ ๐ฉ๐ก๐๐ง๐จ๐ฆ๐๐ง๐จ๐ง...]
[๐๐ง๐๐ฅ๐ฒ๐ฌ๐ข๐ฌ: ๐๐ก๐ ๐ฌ๐ฎ๐๐ฃ๐๐๐ญ ๐ข๐ฌ ๐ฆ๐จ๐๐ฎ๐ฅ๐๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ก๐๐ซ ๐ฌ๐ฉ๐ข๐ซ๐ข๐ญ๐ฎ๐๐ฅ ๐๐ฌ๐ฌ๐๐ง๐๐ ๐๐ง๐ ๐ฉ๐ซ๐จ๐ฃ๐๐๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ข๐ญ ๐ฏ๐ข๐ ๐ฌ๐จ๐ง๐ข๐ ๐๐ซ๐๐ช๐ฎ๐๐ง๐๐ข๐๐ฌ. ๐๐ก๐ ๐ซ๐๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ฅ๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ฐ๐๐ฏ๐ ๐ฉ๐๐ญ๐ญ๐๐ซ๐ง ๐ข๐ฌ ๐๐๐ฌ๐ข๐ ๐ง๐๐ ๐ญ๐จ ๐ข๐ง๐ญ๐๐ซ๐๐๐ญ ๐๐ข๐ซ๐๐๐ญ๐ฅ๐ฒ ๐ฐ๐ข๐ญ๐ก ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐ฅ๐ข๐ฌ๐ญ๐๐ง๐๐ซ'๐ฌ ๐ รซ๐, ๐ข๐ง๐๐ฎ๐๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ ๐ฌ๐ญ๐๐ญ๐ ๐จ๐ ๐๐๐ฅ๐ฆ ๐๐ง๐ ๐ฉ๐ซ๐จ๐ฆ๐จ๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐ ๐ฌ๐ฉ๐ข๐ซ๐ข๐ญ๐ฎ๐๐ฅ ๐๐ช๐ฎ๐ข๐ฅ๐ข๐๐ซ๐ข๐ฎ๐ฆ.]
He had his answer. And it was more beautiful than he could have imagined. Magic was not pulling rabbits out of a hat or chanting nonsensical words. It was a form of applied spiritual science. His mother was, in essence, a finely tuned instrument, using her own perfected energy, modulating it into sound waves, and projecting it to directly and positively affect his own latent spirit. It was targeted. It was precise. It was elegant.
Ilwen bent down, her movements a poem, and lifted him effortlessly into her arms. He rested his head against her shoulder, the warmth and the peaceful energy she was projecting washing over him. She looked down at her youngest child, her little Arthur, and saw him gazing up at her with an intense, focused look in his eyes, a look that always seemed so much older than his three years.
She could never know that her son was looking at her not with the simple adoration of a child, but with the profound, ecstatic reverence of a scientist who had just discovered a whole new, magnificent branch of physics. He felt no envy, no impatience. Only a hunger. An insatiable, all consuming hunger to learn. The world was not a mystery to be feared, but a system to be understood. He had his baseline. He had his ultimate goal. And he had his toolkit. The great work of observation could finally, truly, begin.