When Fantasy Glitches

Magnus walked through his dorm room door and stepped into the Research Station, carrying two sets of clothes. As soon as he entered, he heard two voices practically yelling, their excitement reverberating through the maze-like structure of bookcases in Eveline's library.

"This is amazing! It works just like I imagined it would! And it’s so much faster too!"

"Oh, and this is just a minor application. Wait until you see what I've done on a larger scale!"

The voices belonged to Celia and Eveline, clearly thrilled by something out of Magnus’s view. His footsteps echoed against the floor, drawing their attention. As soon as Celia spotted him, she waved enthusiastically.

"Magnus, come over here, take a look at this!"

Magnus approached the two and finally saw what had them so excited. It was a puppet with clear mechanical joints and featureless limbs, resembling a human but without distinct textures. He couldn’t even guess the material it was made from. The most notable aspect of the puppet was its fully mechanical fingers capable of holding objects, and that's exactly what it was doing. In one hand, it held the Knockout Brick, and in the other, a mana construct resembling a pen.

On the table in front of it was a teacup and a thin blue sheet that glowed slightly, resembling a holographic piece of paper. Every time the pen touched it, words that looked like light would appear on its surface.

"Ah, so this is the artificial intelligence Eveline has been working on," Magnus remarked, intrigued as he watched the puppet work. It mimicked Celia's actions: tapping the teacup with the brick, observing the dream flowing in its center, and then writing down the details in an orderly fashion. Once the paper was filled, it scattered into light and disappeared.

"That's right. Eveline didn't just give it sight to perceive dreams," Celia explained as the puppet's orange body suddenly turned bright red.

"What the hell? It's a chameleon," Magnus muttered, clearly puzzled.

"The artificial intelligence can replicate basic emotions, and its color shows the emotion it’s experiencing—orange for anxiety, red for anger. And whenever it sees itself as a certain color, it responds with that color's emotions," Celia continued.

"This way, we can still track if the teacup shows more good moments of the future or bad ones when we do the averages just like we planned to before. Plus, these puppets only have a single purpose. They don’t need to eat, sleep, or shower, so where they are in the present remains consistent into the future. They will always be right here, so there won't be any complications." Celia’s original method relied heavily on her feelings after observing the dreams, but as situations grow more complex, that approach becomes less reliable. Who's to say one might not misunderstand a specific future or perceive a generally good outcome as bad?

But, since the puppet never leaves Eveline's library, the situations it will see in the future will always remain simple and constant. All it has to do is react to the colors it sees on itself in the future, and before its own emotions fade, it records them, providing a clear baseline of how often emotions like happiness, sadness, anger, or anxiety occur when viewing predictions. Plus, since this was its only purpose, the puppets were much better at tracking how long the predictions lasted than a human. All they had to do was calculate how much of a blank period there was in their memory, something a normal person would need a lot more time to figure out.

"Hmm, very good, Celia. I'm glad you were paying attention," Eveline said proudly, nodding in approval. Magnus watched as Celia's smile beamed, and she looked at Eveline with the same admiration a daughter might have after being praised by her mother.

Actually, with how much taller Eveline is than Celia, that's not a completely insane thing to picture.

"In any case, this is just the beginning," Eveline said as she walked over and tapped the puppet on the head, causing it to go limp like a machine powered off.

"I plan to make more of them, so we can get things done faster." Magnus raised an eyebrow at that.

"More? But didn’t it take you a while just to make one of these things?"

Eveline shook her head.

"It takes time to develop an artificial intelligence because part of the process relies on the intelligence’s ability to grow and develop itself. You can only speed it up so much. But since its brain is a matrix made entirely from mana, once it’s fully developed, you just need to study the structure and replicate it." It was like creating certain sections of buildings in a game. If the building had four towers, then you only need to make one of them, and then you can copy and paste the rest.

"Though that is fairly costly power-wise. I might have to think of a more efficient method. Maybe if I..." Eveline trailed off as she began to murmur to herself. Both Magnus and Celia could tell she was going to fall into another one of her internal discussions with herself and let her be. Instead, Celia’s attention shifted to Magnus and the clothes he’d been holding this whole time.

"Magnus, why are you holding clothes?" Celia's words reminded Magnus exactly why he had come here in the first place.

"Oh, right! I came here to ask you and Eveline for a favor. Well... mostly you, really, but anyway. Which one of these do you think would look best on me?" Magnus asked, holding up the clothes he had in both of his hands. Both were formal wear, simple but neat. Draped over his right arm was a black vest suit with a white long-sleeved shirt underneath, a red tie, and black slacks. On the other arm was a light peach V-neck sweater over a white button-up shirt, paired with a blue two-button suit and matching pants.

"You even had suits made for yourself?" Celia asked, a bit surprised.

"Of course. I’m not a savage. Every respectable man needs a suit or two, just in case. Although I definitely wasn’t expecting to need them so soon. Luden decided to spring it on me last minute that our faction’s ‘celebration’ for winning the Live Examination is actually going to be a formal gathering with his family and the families of others in our faction." Magnus’s voice carried a hint of annoyance, which made Celia chuckle.

"Well, it's not like you have to go, right? It's a celebration, not a mandatory meeting, right?" Magnus half shrugged upon hearing Celia's question.

"Yeah... but last time I went somewhere with Luden, they had a lot of food. And it was good. Like, really, really good."

That caused Celia to narrow her eyes as she spoke with a sly grin, "Ah, that explains it."

Having figured out Magnus’s true motivation, she looked between the two suits before pointing to the one on his right arm.

"That one will probably look best since you’re wearing your mask."

Magnus nodded, satisfied as he said, "This one it is then."

With nothing left to do in the Research Station, Magnus and Celia headed back to the dorm, with Magnus heading straight into the bathroom to change. Through the door, he heard Celia’s voice.

"Before you head out, I want to do your hair. It's way too messy."

Hearing that, Magnus groaned, "Why, though? I'm going to be wearing the mask and changing my appearance anyway."

"Because when you start attending formal events as Magnus, not Cain, I don’t want you getting used to looking like you just rolled out of bed," she shot back, ignoring the complaining that came after. It took her about twenty minutes to finally tame his hair, slicking it neatly toward the back of his neck. When she finished, she stepped back, admiring her work.

"There you go; you look so much with your hair cleaned up," Celia said with a proud look on her face.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Magnus muttered, grabbing his mask from the desk.

As he headed for the door, he turned back and said, "I’ll probably be back before midnight. Try not to get kidnapped again while I’m gone."

The proud look on Celia’s face instantly vanished as she shouted, "Oh, don’t you start!"

•

Year 348 of the Great Sundering Era, 1st Month, 10th Day of the Mistveil Cycle.

The Rilhawk family—nobles with centuries of history behind their founding. They held a monopoly over nearly every major mana catalyst mining operation in the Verdant Region, and even outside of the region, they had a significant hold. As one of the regions housing one of the Ten Great Magic Academies, the Verdant Region was one of the most highly mana-concentrated regions there was, making the Rilhawk family’s catalyst mines among the most valuable assets in the entire kingdom as well. This dominance was the key to their elevated status.

Coming from a long lineage of mages and ancient runesmiths, the Rilhawks were deeply embedded in the distribution of spell catalysts and magical artifices. Nearly every major transaction in the magical markets was either directly managed by them or involved in their influence in some way. In a kingdom where magic was both priceless and exclusive, they had amassed a fortune that placed them, at least in terms of wealth, on equal footing with the High Lords and Ladies—the ruling elite of the Batis Kingdom—seated within the Upper Four Rings of Nobility.

Few non-magical or knightly noble families could even hope to stand beside them. So, it was hardly surprising that the Rilhawks had rented such a massive ballroom near the heart of the Upper City for just one night of celebration.

How did they set all this up so quickly? It hasn’t even been a month since Luden told us about the event.

Magnus was peering out the window of the carriage he was riding in. The carriage he rode in was nearly identical to the one Luden typically used, the only difference being that the usual golden accents were silver. The sole remaining hint of gold was the eyes of the coiled emerald serpent on the door—the crest of the Rilhawk family. Golden carriages signaled that a direct member of the family was inside, while silver carriages were reserved for branch family members or, like in Magnus’s case, guests of the Rilhawks.

Luden had informed him just the day before that the carriage would be waiting for him; the same day he sprung the news that the celebration was to be a formal event.

The ballroom building was a sight to behold—a miniature palace with a grand, curved roof. The entire structure was illuminated so brightly that it almost appeared as though the stone was laced with gold, glittering in the warm light. The glow only enhanced the masterful stonework, making the building appear even more majestic. Massive windows, nearly half the height of the building, lined the walls. They would have provided a perfect view into the ballroom, but the heavy curtains drawn inside blocked any glimpse of the festivities. A towering wrought-iron fence surrounded the property.

As Magnus’s carriage approached, he noticed the street was already lined with others. The carriages at the front bore the unmistakable Rilhawk crest, but many others displayed the crests of different noble houses.

I guess I'm a bit late.

The carriage came to a halt, and the coachman knocked on the carriage wall to signal Magnus that they had arrived. Stepping out, Magnus gave a nod of thanks to the coachman and took in his surroundings. There were no other guests aside from him outside, so it looked like he was among the last to arrive.

As Magnus approached the gates, he noticed two imposing guards stationed there. Several others were positioned along the perimeter of the property. The moment the guards saw Magnus and his masked appearance, their eyes narrowed, and they raised their hands, signaling him to stop. Magnus was a bit taken back by their sheer size as they towered over him. They stood at least seven feet tall and were built like giants, their muscles so pronounced that they seemed capable of lifting boulders that weighed a ton.

He could only wonder how they could wear such clearly bulky and heavy armor while carrying their weapons and still manage to move.

"State your name and business," one of the guards demanded in a gruff tone. Magnus was caught off guard by the raw edge in his voice. It didn't matter whether it was city guards or soldiers; pretty much all of them had a sort of air and tone to them when they spoke, even Grial and the guards around Takerth. It was hard to describe exactly, but if he had to describe it, it would be a tone that told you they were trained men; a sense of discipline, no matter how deeply buried, it could be felt in their words and actions. But Magnus didn't get that feeling from the guards in front of him.

They felt rough; it wasn't what they said, but how they said it and how they looked at him. There was a clear air around them that separated them from the other guards Magnus had encountered up to this point.

"Cain, I was invited," Magnus answered. The other guard, not the one who had spoken to Magus, raised up the board in his hand, which had multiple pages attached. Each page had a list written on it, showing who had been invited. The guard's eyes scanned over the list briefly until he spotted the name Magnus had told him and nodded.

"Head on through." With that, Magnus made his way to the entrance of the ballroom building. As he walked, he couldn't help but glance behind him, back at the guards who had let him through. He had a strange sense of familiarity with them, not like he had seen their faces before or heard their voices, but just a general familiarity. Yet he couldn't place it from where exactly. Something that was rare considering he had as close to a perfect memory as a human being could have.

Basker.

[I'll begin searching through your memories right away and try to find the source of the familiarity.]

Acknowledging Basker’s response with a mental nod, Magnus continued up the stairs to the building’s entrance. The double doors opened automatically as he approached, revealing a large reception area. Instead of a receptionist, a gray-haired man in a black and white butler uniform greeted him.

"Greetings, I am Jacquees, the Head Butler of the Rilhawk Family’s Main Residence here in Arlcliff City. May I have your name?"

"Cain," Magnus replied. Jacquees’s eyes flickered slightly upon hearing the name.

"Ah, so you’re Young Master Magnus. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you." Hearing his actual name, Magnus's eyes widened, and even through his mask, Jacquees seemed to detect Magnus's shock through his body language.

"There’s no need to worry," Jacquees continued with a reassuring tone.

"The young master instructed me to keep your identity concealed. I must say, it’s been a long time since I’ve heard him speak so fondly of someone. Please, follow me." Magnus was momentarily stunned. His concealed identity was part of his agreement with Luden, and he knew Luden wouldn’t easily break it.

I guess that means he must trust this Jacquees guy quite a bit. I suppose it makes sense; he is their family's Head Butler.

As they walked, Magnus trailed slightly behind Jacquees, adjusting his suit. They reached the end of a long, carpeted hallway. Like the entrance doors, the double doors at the end of the hall opened as they approached, and the bright light flooding from inside was nearly blinding. Jacquees cleared his throat and stepped through first, making an announcement that echoed throughout the hall.

"Ladies and gentlemen, presenting the esteemed Cain!"

Instantly, over fifty pairs of eyes, previously engaged in their own conversations, turned to fixate on Magnus as he stepped into the ballroom. Under his mask, Magnus felt a wave of discomfort as he was scrutinized by so many nobles.

I feel like I'm about to die. I bet Luden put him up to this...