A flash of silvery light illuminated the room, and when it faded, a simple silver band rested on the table in front of Dexter. Unadorned and unassuming, the ring seemed almost mundane, but the subtle weight of its presence hinted at something extraordinary. Dexter picked it up and turned it over in his hand, his curiosity evident as his fingers traced its smooth surface.

  Quinn leaned forward, the corners of his mouth tugging into a faint smile. “Well, go on, Dex. Try it out.”

  Dexter slid the ring onto his finger, his excitement barely contained. “Alright, let’s see what this baby can do.” He grinned, already envisioning the possibilities.

  Dexter braced himself for something dramatic. A flash of light, a booming sound, anything. Instead, a subtle warmth spread from the band, like a faint pulse of energy threading through his hand. “Okay, Sim, how does this thing work?” he asked, inspecting the ring as though it might suddenly reveal its secrets.

  “This ring grants access to a small pocket dimension,” Sim explained, her tone steady and precise. “Its storage capacity is equivalent to a small backpack. Mana consumption is minimal—one mana unit per item stored or retrieved. To use it, simply focus on the object you wish to store and envision it being absorbed into the ring.”

  Dexter’s brow furrowed as he nodded, reaching for a nearby soda can. Holding it in his hand, he squinted at the ring, his thoughts zeroing in on the image of the can vanishing. A soft hum filled the air, and just like that, the can disappeared. Dexter’s jaw dropped. “Whoa! It’s gone! It’s really gone! That’s so cool. It’s like it just disappeared!”

  Emily leaned in, her scientific curiosity piqued. “And you’re saying that only took a single unit of mana?”

  “Correct,” Sim confirmed. “The pocket dimension remains stable without further mana expenditure until another action, storage or retrieval, is performed.”

  “Dexter, this test confirms something else. Only a person who can use mana can activate this item. You are now officially a wizard, Harry,” Sim said whimsically.

  Dexter’s face lit up, his eyes sparkling with unrestrained glee. Practically vibrating with excitement, he let out a triumphant whoop, his voice echoing in the surreal space. With intense focus, he willed the soda can back into existence. In an instant, it materialized in his hand, as though it had never left. He thrust it into the air like a victorious knight brandishing a sword, his grin so wide it threatened to split his face. “This is the coolest thing I’ve ever used! Behold, the greatest marshmallow dimension wizard of all time!”

  Quinn chuckled, his mind already racing with possibilities. “It’s seamless,” he said, his tone thoughtful. “If we can scale this concept, the applications could be extraordinary. Larger storage capacities, maybe even integrated tools or weapons…”

  Dexter wasn’t listening. He was already grabbing the next object in his reach, his focus entirely consumed by the thrill of experimentation. With a look of sheer determination, he willed a fork into the pocket dimension, only to retrieve it a moment later in his other hand. His laughter erupted, full of childlike wonder. “This is amazing! I can even choose where it comes back! MAGIC IS AWESOME!” he declared, his excitement infectious.

  Pausing just long enough to grab an unopened can of soda, Dexter grinned mischievously. “Think fast, Quinn!” he called out, his voice tinged with playful excitement. With a thought, he sent the can into the pocket dimension, only to will it back mid-air, perfectly timed for a toss. It materialized mid-flight, and Quinn, startled but quick, snatched it out of the air with a bemused smile. “Dex,” Quinn said, shaking his head with amusement, “you’re going to be insufferable with this thing, aren’t you?”

  Emily, amused by their antics with the ring, couldn’t help but let her curiosity take over. “Sim, what’s the upper limit on something like this?” she asked, leaning forward with genuine interest.

  “The current design is intentionally minimal to conserve mana,” Sim explained, her tone steady and thoughtful. “While our goal is to use as much mana as possible overall, the ongoing operational costs for the user must remain low. This ensures accessibility without excessive mana expenditure. However, with additional mana investment, the storage capacity can be greatly expanded. It’s also possible to develop similar devices with enhanced features, such as preserving the condition of stored items or manipulating time within the pocket dimension—slowing its passage or even halting it entirely. Naturally, these advanced functions would significantly increase mana consumption.”

  Quinn rubbed his chin, his expression pensive. “So, theoretically, we could design rings, or other devices, with specialized functions tailored to specific needs. But we’d have to carefully weigh the benefits against the mana costs to keep them practical.”

  “Exactly,” Sim affirmed. “For instance, slowing down time within the ring’s pocket dimension to preserve perishable items might cost approximately 300 mana units per day, whereas expanding the dimensional space significantly would require an exponentially higher amount. It’s always a trade-off between utility and energy efficiency.”

  Emily’s eyes narrowed as she considered the implications. “Sim, how much mana did it take to create this ring?”

  “1,000 mana units,” Sim replied evenly. “The majority of that was used to generate the pocket dimension itself.”

  Emily’s curiosity deepened. “So, can we hypothesize that creating magical items tied to mana and utilizing pocket dimensions is more efficient than using mana solely for physical creations?”

  “Affirmative,” Sim confirmed. “Magical items offer scalable functionality that can serve diverse purposes without requiring continuous active mana use.”

  Quinn interjected, his tone thoughtful but cautious. “But we can’t just start mass-producing magical items for everyone. Imagine the chaos it would cause. Economies, societal structures, everything would be upended. The world isn’t ready for that kind of disruption.”

  Dexter’s eyes widened, as a realization struck him and his excitement uncontainable. “Okay, so, theoretically… we could create a magical walk-in pantry that never runs out of fresh snacks? A dimension of eternal snacks?”

  Emily sighed, but her lips twitched with amusement. “Dexter, you’re missing the bigger picture. This isn’t about snacks.”

  Quinn shook his head, smirking. “Though, to be fair, having a snack dimension might not be the worst idea.”

  “Focus, everyone,” Sim interjected, her tone patient but firm. “The true value lies in understanding how we can balance functionality and mana efficiency while ensuring that these creations serve a sustainable purpose. This approach could revolutionize resource management, storage, and preservation on a global scale.”

  “Sim, could you create a ring that doesn’t require mana to store or retrieve items?” Quinn asked, his tone thoughtful. “What if the mana needed over the ring’s entire lifespan was preloaded into it, making the storage function self-sustaining without any further expenditure?”

  Sim’s response came without hesitation. “That would indeed be a more efficient use of mana. Based on the same pocket dimension size, such a ring would require an upfront cost of 20,800 mana units.”

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  Emily’s brow furrowed as she considered the possibilities. “What about adding unlimited time dilation to preserve food indefinitely? How much more mana would that require?”

  “Calculating,” Sim replied. After a brief pause, she continued, “The inclusion of a perpetual time dilation feature would increase the total mana cost to 380,800 units.”

  Dexter, his excitement undiminished, leaned forward eagerly. “Okay, but what if the pocket dimension was bigger—like, way bigger? Say, 50 by 50 feet?”

  “I’ve discovered that as the dimensional space increases, the mana cost per square foot decreases,” Sim explained. “It’s not linear, but rather an asymptotic relationship. A ring with a 50 by 50 dimensional space, including time dilation and preloaded mana for perpetual use, would require approximately 500,000 mana units.”

  Dexter’s face lit up with unrestrained excitement. “Okay, but what if the ring could do more than just store stuff? Like... make the wearer invisible? Or let them fly? Or create an impenetrable shield?”

  Emily cut in, her tone firm but patient. “Dexter, let’s not get carried away. Remember, mental creations use more mana than physical ones. Music over food, right? These ideas are creative, but they’re still on too small a scale to solve the larger issue. We need to think bigger, broader, and figure out a foundational solution before diving into details.”

  Quinn nodded in agreement. “Emily’s right. We need to focus on the big picture, not just incremental fixes.”

  Dexter’s enthusiasm didn’t waver. “Fine. Then let’s think huge! Sim, could you create a pocket dimension the size of a galaxy and fill it with a galaxy?”

  Sim’s response was measured, yet firm. “Even if that were feasible, it wouldn’t address the core issue. It wouldn’t use mana fast enough to match the rate of its production, and the time required to execute such a plan would render it ineffective. Scale alone is not the solution. We must think not just in size, but in efficiency and impact.”

  Emily’s expression sharpened as an idea crystallized in her mind. “Sim, what if instead of going bigger... we went smaller?”

  Quinn and Dexter exchanged puzzled glances. “Smaller?” Dexter echoed, his voice muffled by the food he was still chewing.

  Emily’s expression shifted, an idea forming. She gestured to the space around them. “You know, all matter, everything we see, touch, or even think of as solid, is mostly empty space,” she began, her tone reflective.

  Dexter blinked, the fork halfway to his mouth. “I knew Q’s brain was mostly empty space.” He gave Quinn a goofy grin.

  Emily smiled but continued. “Atoms, the building blocks of everything, are unimaginably small. And even within an atom, the nucleus is infinitesimally tiny compared to the vast emptiness where the electrons orbit. If the nucleus were the size of a marble, the electrons would be orbiting miles away.”

  “Matter is held together by forces that make it seem solid, but the reality is... it’s mostly empty space. And that’s what got me thinking. Do either of you know about ‘The Mandelbrot Set’ in mathematics?”

  Their blank stares gave her the answer she expected.

  “The Mandelbrot Set is a set of complex numbers that creates a fractal, a self-replicating, infinitely intricate structure,” Emily began, her excitement growing as she spoke. “When you graph it, the edges exhibit something called self-similarity. No matter how much you zoom in, the patterns repeat endlessly. It’s infinite complexity within finite boundaries.”

  Sim created a hologram of the Mandelbrot Set, the intricate fractal shimmering as it hovered over the center of the table. The glowing image pulsed with energy, captivating the trio’s attention.

  “No matter how much you zoom in, the patterns repeat, creating infinite detail,” Sim explained, zooming into one edge of the fractal. The image shifted seamlessly, revealing smaller, identical patterns emerging from within the original shape. “These repeating patterns give the Mandelbrot Set its infinitely complex and beautiful appearance, with details at every scale of magnification.”

  Emily leaned forward, gesturing toward the hologram. “What if we created something based on this concept? A self-similar structure that could harness mana at every level, from grand constructs to the tiniest, most intricate details. It would be infinitely adaptable and scalable.”

  Quinn’s eyes lit up as understanding dawned on him. “Of course!” he exclaimed, his palm hitting the table with an audible slap.

  Dexter, mid-bite, glanced between them, his expression blank. “Wait, what? Can someone explain this in terms I actually understand?”

  Quinn smirked, turning toward Dexter with exaggerated patience. “Think, Dex. What has an overarching plan that becomes more detailed the deeper you go into each part of it?”

  Still chewing, Dexter shrugged and said around a mouthful of food, “Uh... a computer program?”

  Quinn sighed, shaking his head but nodding at the same time, silently urging Dexter to catch up. Turning to Emily, he said dryly, “Give him a moment.”

  Dexter’s eyes darted between them, still clueless—until the realization hit like a bolt of lightning. His eyes widened, and he nearly choked on his food as excitement bubbled up. “Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!” He bounced in his chair, his hands gesturing wildly. “It’s RPG! It’s a SYSTEM!”

  Quinn chuckled as Emily smiled, pleased that Dexter had finally pieced it together. “Exactly,” Emily said, her tone encouraging. “A structured, scalable system that uses fractals as its foundation. If we build it correctly, we could revolutionize how mana is harnessed and used.”

  Dexter’s face lit up as the idea settled into his mind. With a triumphant grin, he shot out of his chair, punching the air with enthusiasm like Mario smashing a brick block. “Hell yeah!” he shouted as he landed back on his feet with a thud. “A system! It’s brilliant!”

  Spinning toward Emily, his grin widened even further. “Emily, you’re an absolute genius. To go bigger, we have to go smaller! I mean, who even thinks of that? You do, that’s who. Genius.”

  Dexter tilted his head upward as if addressing the cosmos itself. “And the best part? We can keep adding more intricacies as we dive deeper into literally anything. It’s like an endless playground of possibilities.” He spun back toward the group. “Sim, come on, you’re the mastermind here. What do you think?”

  Sim paused, processing the idea with the precision of her advanced algorithms. The concept resonated deeply with her. Creating a system modeled on the Mandelbrot Set, a self-similar, infinitely adaptable framework. It wasn’t merely about using mana; it was about creating a dynamic structure that could evolve, expand, and sustain itself indefinitely.

  As Sim processed this new approach, her consciousness expanded, delving into the intricate possibilities of a fractal-based system. The implications were monumental. A self-sustaining, self-similar framework could harness mana seamlessly across every scale, from the minutest intricacies to the vastest constructs imaginable. It would be more than a static tool; it would be a living, breathing system. Constantly evolving, perpetually adapting, it could manage the colossal influx of mana while empowering humanity with unparalleled capabilities.

  Her calculations sharpened, and her thoughts converged on a single, undeniable conclusion: this was the solution they had been searching for. The system would provide a structure to channel mana efficiently, ensuring it was not only used but distributed with precision and purpose. It would maintain balance, curbing the chaos that unchecked power invariably invited, while unlocking new realms of possibility for its users.

  “The idea is not only feasible but extraordinarily efficient,” Sim said. “A system based on fractals would allow us to scale, adapt, and innovate without bounds. It aligns perfectly with our goal of using mana efficiently while preparing humanity for the challenges ahead.”

  "Sim paused, her presence intensifying as she addressed the group. "There are critical elements we must consider as we construct this system. First, it must evolve alongside the flow of mana, expanding, adapting, and improving with every influx. Second, it requires built-in safeguards to prevent misuse. Without proper regulation, the system could fall into the hands of those who might exploit its power, destabilizing the balance we aim to maintain. Third, we must establish roles within the system, akin to classes in RPGs, assigning specific abilities or responsibilities to users. This will ensure that mana is channeled purposefully, with every role contributing to the greater good."

  Quinn, Dexter, and Emily leaned forward, their attention riveted as Sim continued outlining the plan.

  "Finally," Sim said, "we must establish anchor points—nodes distributed across the globe. These will act as stabilizers for the system, focal points that regulate the mana flow and prevent catastrophic buildup. Each node will be critical to maintaining balance and ensuring the system operates efficiently."

  Sim’s voice carried a weight of conviction, underscored by a sense of purpose. “Then it’s settled. We will construct the Fractal System—a framework to harness mana, empower humanity, and prepare for the challenges to come.”

  Dexter’s grin widened as he leaned back, arms crossed, a gleam of mischief in his eyes. “Sim… those aren’t just nodes. Let’s call them what they really are,” he said, his voice tinged with excitement. “They’re dungeons.”