Quinn, Dexter, and Emily lingered around the table, laughter still bubbling up now and then as they replayed Dexter’s mashed potato mishap. No matter how hard they tried to move on, the image refused to fade. It had been ridiculous. And perfect. The kind of stupid memory that held off the weight of everything else, if only for a moment.

  But the reprieve wouldn’t last.

  Sim’s voice cut through the mood, crisp and decisive. “Shall we begin?”

  “Yes, teacher,” Dexter said, straightening in his seat and folding his hands with exaggerated solemnity. He looked like a child pretending to behave.

  “Emily, this is primarily for you,” Sim continued, her tone leveling into something more instructive. “But pay attention, boys. It applies to all of you.”

  She paused, letting the moment settle before she continued.

  “Your mana channels are now the primary way your bodies interact with this energy. Think of them as conduits or highways for mana. Right now, those highways are full of potholes and missing lanes. The flow is unstable, which is why, Emily, your abilities are unpredictable at best.”

  Dexter leaned in, the sarcasm always evident on his face..

  “You’re telling me we’ve tapped into a god-tier power grid... with the wiring of a toaster?”

  “More or less,” Sim replied. “Which is why we’re going to fix that.”

  “Do we get full-on wizard training?” Dexter asked, all sarcasm and raised eyebrows.

  Sim’s voice shifted, adopting a refined, almost theatrical tone. “Call it what you will, Potta,” she said in a dead-on McGonagall impression.

  Dexter grinned. “Ten points to Sim.”

  Sim continued on. “With practice, you’ll stop reacting and start directing. Intent over instinct. That’s the goal. Controlled mana use not only minimizes... accidents,” she gave a meaningful pause, “but allows you to truly tap into what’s possible within the framework of the system we’re building.”

  Dexter leaned back, raising an invisible lightsaber over his shoulder. “Sim, I’ll be the Luke Skywalker to your Obi-Wan.”

  “Don’t get cocky,” Quinn muttered.

  Dexter winked. “Too late.”

  Quinn turned back to Sim. “How do we start?

  Sim projected a hologram into the space above the table. Glowing threads formed a web of delicate, vein-like structures—mana channels, rendered in precise detail.

  “Training starts with understanding your individual mana flow,” she explained. “Each of you processes mana differently. Emily’s channels are more developed, likely due to her early exposure during the singularity event. Dexter, Quinn—yours are still forming, but the potential is significant.”

  Dexter raised his hand, all mock seriousness. “So Emily’s the Hermione of our little trio?”

  Quinn didn’t miss a beat. “Obviously. Duh. Try to keep up, Harry.”

  Emily rolled her eyes but grinned. “Great. I get to be the nerd. Again,” she said, deadpan.

  Quinn smirked. “Let’s be real—we’re all nerds. You just wear it better than we do.”

  Sim’s voice shifted, calm and deliberate, more mentor. A tone that felt like a conductor calling the first note of a symphony, or a master craftsman guiding an apprentice through their first cut.

  “Close your eyes. Slow your breathing.”

  The ambient hum of the room faded, as if the world itself leaned in to listen.

  “Focus inward. Let the noise fall away; your thoughts, your surroundings, even your body. Set them aside. They’ll still be there when you’re done.”

  A pause followed. Not empty, but intentional. Weighted.

  “Now… picture the space behind your sternum. Not your heartbeat. Deeper. Beneath that. There’s something there. Warmth, pressure, a flicker of motion. Whatever it is, follow it.”

  The air stirred, a soft pulse of mana brushing their skin like a breath of wind, as if the energy itself was responding to her words.

  “This is the beginning,” Sim said, her voice almost a whisper now. “Mana doesn’t shout. It doesn’t demand. It hums. It pulses. It resonates. Don’t force it. Just… listen.”

  Emily’s brow furrowed in concentration. Quinn’s breathing deepened, his shoulders easing. Dexter peeked out of one eye, caught himself, and quickly shut it again—like he hadn’t been caught cheating on a test.

  Sim’s voice dropped, soft enough to blend with thought. “If you feel warmth… tingling… a gentle pull through your limbs, don’t chase it. Let it come to you. Let it recognize you.”

  The room settled into silence, the kind that didn’t just fill the air but pressed gently against it. Time thinned. For a moment, nothing stirred. Then… slowly… a subtle warmth began to stir beneath the surface of their skin. Not heat but a resonance. A current just below awareness, awakening something deep within them.

  Emily’s eyes remained shut, but a faint crease lifted from her brow. Her voice, when it came, was barely audible. “I think I feel it,” she whispered, like a secret she wasn’t sure she should speak aloud.

  “Same,” Quinn said, his voice low, like a prayer. “It’s… there.”

  Dexter grinned without opening his eyes. “I feel like I just got my Hogwarts letter,” he whispered, reverent even in jest.

  Sim chuckled softly, the sound more human than machine. “You’ve taken your first step. Mastery will come with time, repetition… and patience. The mana remembers. It learns you as you learn it.”

  Emily opened her eyes. The glow hadn’t returned, but something had changed—her posture, her presence. Her voice carried iron beneath the awe. “Then let’s get to it.”

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  “I have been monitoring your vitals. There are no adverse effects from your newly formed mana channels,” Sim said, her voice even, clinical—but not cold. “Each of you now has a steady flow of mana coursing through your body. Your systems have adapted well. Processing mana is becoming… natural. Now it’s time to see what you can actually do.”

  Dexter jumped to his feet like a kid about to open a present. “Let’s go! I’m ready to throw some fireballs or summon a dragon—maybe both!” His grin was all teeth and reckless excitement.

  Sim’s tone shifted—calm, grounding. “Then we begin. Basic exercises first. You must learn to feel mana before you wield it.”

  Emily and Quinn exchanged a look—quiet agreement passing between them. Their excitement ran deeper, steadier. They rose without a word, stepping forward to stand beside Dexter, ready.

  “First,” Sim said, her voice calm and deliberate, “you must attune yourselves to mana. Close your eyes. Focus on your breathing. Feel the current within you—steady, silent. Like a river running beneath your skin.”

  The trio obeyed. Dexter’s usually animated face stilled, brow pinching in honest effort. Emily, analytical as ever, narrowed her focus, syncing breath to thought as if dissecting the process piece by piece. Quinn mapped it out in his mind—visualizing steps, checking in with his body, searching for the elusive point of connection.

  “Now,” Sim continued, “extend your right hand. Envision the mana gathering in your palm. Not forced—guided. Let it form a sphere. Light, energy, intention made real.”

  For a beat, nothing happened. Just silence, breath, and the low thrum of expectation.

  Then Dexter’s hand twitched.

  A flicker. A spark. A faint orb began to shimmer just above his skin, bobbing unsteadily like a newborn flame.

  His eyes snapped open, and the grin was immediate. “Guys. Look at this! I’m literally charging a Hadouken!” He turned to Quinn with a gleam in his eye. “Ryu’s got nothing on me.”

  Emily and Quinn opened their eyes in near unison, each now holding an orb of softly glowing energy. Emily’s shimmered like moonlight on water—calm, controlled. Quinn’s pulsed with a rhythmic glow, steady and strong, syncing with the beat of his heart.

  “This is…” Emily breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. “I can feel it. It’s listening to me.”

  She turned the orb in her hand, studying it like a rare specimen—half scientist, half sorceress.

  “Excellent,” Sim said, her tone warm with approval. “Now try moving them. Imagine the spheres as part of you. Extensions of thought, shaped by intent.”

  The orbs quivered, as if waiting for permission.

  Dexter went first, of course.

  His orb wobbled, spun a little… then shot off like a bottle rocket on a sugar high, pinging against an invisible barrier before blinking out with a soft pop.

  “Okay, okay,” he muttered, rubbing his palm. “Noted. Less pew pew, more… zen.” He reset, brow furrowed, excitement barely contained behind his grin. “This is so cool.”

  Emily, in stark contrast to Dexter, moved with unexpected grace. Her sphere hovered with ease, trailing ribbons of light behind it as it followed her every gesture. A faint tingle flared behind her forehead—familiar now—reminding her of the deepening connection she felt to this strange, pulsing force.

  “It’s like dancing,” she murmured, eyes half-lidded as the orb slid up her arm, arced across her shoulders, and floated into her other hand. Each motion was effortless, like the sphere had always been part of her.

  Quinn took a different route—focused, methodical. His orb moved in tight spirals, his concentration visible in the way his brow furrowed with each pass. The energy obeyed him like a well-trained hound, precise and sharp.

  “It’s all about balance,” he said, calm and steady. “The more I let go, the easier it flows.”

  “Excellent,” Sim said, a hint of pride lacing her otherwise even tone. “You’re adapting quickly. Let’s push further. Combine your efforts.”

  They shared a look. Dexter shrugged. “Fusion dance time?”

  Despite the joke, they moved in sync. The three spheres drifted toward one another, merging into a single, radiant orb. The glow deepened, bright and warm—like standing under morning sunlight.

  “Now,” Sim said, her tone firm but encouraging, “expand it. Shape it. Picture the energy forming a shield around you.”

  They nodded as one, turning their focus inward. The orb pulsed, then expanded slowly, waves of light rolling outward until it formed a shimmering barrier around them—a glowing cocoon of mana.The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of exhilaration and empowerment as they stood within the boundary of their own creation.

  Sim’s voice dropped, calm but heavy with meaning. “With training, you’ll refine this energy. Use it for shielding, healing… and more aggressive techniques.”

  Emily’s curiosity, as usual, got there first. “Sim, what else can mana do?”

  “Mana’s potential is vast,” Sim explained. “It can enhance your physical abilities, accelerate healing, manipulate elements, and, with mastery, even alter the fabric of reality itself. However, these abilities require both understanding and discipline. Each action consumes mana, and as you grow in skill, your capacity to wield it will expand accordingly.”

  Quinn gave a slow nod. “So it’s not just about using mana—we have to innovate. Push boundaries. If we’re going to build a system around this, mastery won’t be optional.”

  Dexter’s eyes lit up, brimming with excitement. “So basically, we’re leveling up into superheroes. Flight, fireballs, lasers—the works?”

  Sim paused a beat. “If you survive the training… possibly.”

  Dexter pumped a fist. “Best. Day. Ever.”

  Sim replied, a faint trace of humor threading her voice. “But you must also remember—” she paused for emphasis “—with great power comes great responsibility.”

  Dexter groaned. Loudly. “Sim, are you seriously quoting Spider-Man right now? What’s next, Yoda?”

  Sim’s reply came instantly, as if she’d anticipated the question. “Would you prefer: ‘Play not with powers that understand you don’t’?” she asked in a perfect Yoda impression.

  Laughter broke the tension like a reset button.

  But Sim’s tone shifted smoothly back to serious. “Your abilities must be honed and used wisely. The fate of your world may depend on it.”

  “No pressure or anything,” Quinn muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

  Dexter raised a hand with faux solemnity. “Sim, I have a critical, life-altering question.”

  “Yes, Dexter?” Sim’s tone turned wary but patient.

  “How many movies have you watched?” he asked, eyes twinkling.

  “All of them,” Sim replied flatly.

  Dexter stared. “Wait—all of them?”

  “Every film ever uploaded to any accessible network,” she clarified, as if that was the most normal thing in the world.

  Dexter shook his head, visibly stunned. “You just became the coolest being in existence.”

  A sudden thought lit up Dexter’s face, and he straightened in his chair. “Hold up. Are you saying—if we train hard enough—we could unlock, like, every superpower ever imagined?”

  “Affirmative,” Sim replied without hesitation. “And more. Which is precisely why we must establish clear limits within the system. Unchecked power, especially in the hands of someone unstable or inexperienced, could lead to… catastrophic outcomes.”

  Her tone shifted, becoming more instructive. “Also, keep in mind—mana usage varies significantly depending on the action. Dexter, your current capacity is approximately one hundred mana units. Some abilities require thousands. It’s not just about power—it’s about endurance, control, and efficiency.”

  Dexter looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers as if expecting to see sparks. “So, what you’re saying is… this is like leveling up in real life?”

  “Correct,” Sim said, her voice warm with approval. “The more you train, the stronger your channels become. Your capacity will grow, and your control will sharpen.”

  Dexter grinned. “Guess it’s time to start grinding XP.”