Kevin adjusted his posture like a teacher halfway through a chaotic semester.
"Alright. Deep breath. Channel your mana. Shape it. A simple flame, Lyra—just that."
Lyra nodded with the intensity of someone challenging the universe to a duel.
Fists clenched. Jaw set.
"Easy peasy fireball squeezy."
She paused. Then squinted at Kevin.
"Wait—why fire? I wanted a hurricane!"
Kevin exhaled like a teacher hearing a student ask if they could skip to quantum mechanics on the first day of math class.
"Because hurricanes are advanced magic," he said patiently. "Even the basic version—wind magic—isn't something you just throw around. Fire is the easiest to start with. It's familiar. You've seen it, felt it, maybe even burned yourself with it. That makes it easier to imagine… and magic begins with imagination."
Lyra frowned, arms crossed. "So I'm stuck with fire?"
Kevin shook his head.
"Not necessarily. Easiest to learn doesn't mean you're meant for it. Everyone has a different affinity. Me and Levin? We were born with strong fire alignment. It makes fire magic smoother for us—less resistance, more natural control."
He pointed to Lyra's hands.
"But that doesn't mean someone without that affinity can't learn it. It just takes more effort. Most mages refine what comes easiest, but a few master multiple elements. It all comes down to control."
"Oh," Lyra said slowly. "So this is like when Granpda said I was bad at sitting still but great at throwing things?"
"Exactly," Kevin replied without missing a beat.
Lyra squinted.
"Wait a minute… how do you even know you and Levin have fire affinity?"
Kevin blinked. "We tested it."
Lyra jumped to her feet.
"WHAT? How?! I wanna try!"
Without a word, Kevin walked over to a nearby tree and plucked a leaf like it owed him an answer.
Kevin returned holding a leaf.
"Okay," he said, handing it to Lyra. "Channel your mana into this."
Lyra blinked. "Why a leaf? That's lame."
"You're not blowing up a cabbage again," Kevin replied flatly. "Also, leaves are simple. Sensitive. They react to most elemental traces. Think of it like a blank sheet—whatever shows up on it is your mana's handwriting. It acts like a natural feedback loop. It's subtle, but clear enough to give a hint."
Dan: "I swear if it turns into glitter, I'm leaving."
He crouched beside her and explained like a bored science teacher on autopilot.
Lyra's eyes lit up. "So if I'm fire, it'll burn?"
Kevin nodded.
"For the other element such as water it swells, softens, or might even sweat droplets."
"Vibrates or tears slightly at the edges if it's wind"
"For earth it will stiffens or darkens—like it's petrifying.
"Lightning element It crackles. You'll hear it before you see it."
"Cool," Lyra said, grabbing it. "Time to glow up."
She pressed her fingers to the leaf.
A soft breeze stirred. The leaf twitched... then fluttered gently into the air.
It hovered—spinning slowly—then dropped back into her palm.
Kevin: "Looks like your affinity's wind."
Lyra: "Aww… I wanted something spicier. Like lightning or fire."
Dan: "Don't complain. You could've rolled Cabbage Element."
beat
"…But wind fits. Especially for an airhead like you."
Lyra turned toward me with puffed cheeks and narrowed eyes.
The kind of look a five-year-old gives you right before throwing a shoe.
Her glare wasn't deadly…
But it definitely had "I'm gonna draw mustaches on your face while you sleep" energy.
I braced myself.
"Noted," I whispered. "Wind it is."
Kevin cleared his throat, clearly trying to steer the conversation back on track before Lyra weaponized her toddler rage.
"Alright, airhead—I mean, Lyra," he said, lips twitching. "Even if your affinity seems to lean toward wind, we're still going to practice with fire first. It's still the easiest to start with."
Lyra didn't respond immediately.
She just gave Kevin a narrowed-eye glare™, slow and suspicious, before reluctantly nodding.
"…Fine."
She closed her eyes.
Inhaled dramatically.
Lifted one hand into the air—fingers trembling with magical intent.
...
Poof.
A single, sad puff of smoke popped into existence—then promptly got bullied away by the breeze.
Not even a spark. Just magical flatulence in visual form.
"Pfft," I muttered.
Kevin blinked slowly. "Try again."
Lyra grunted, squared her stance, and narrowed her eyes like she was about to sue the laws of physics.
"Okay. For real this time. I got this."
She inhaled deeply, like she was summoning the spirits of ancient flame gods—
And then—
"ACHOO—!"
Her mana shot sideways, completely off-course, and nailed a bush square in the face.
The bush did not burn.
The bush… bloomed.
A perfect rose.
I blinked.
"She just sneezed a bouquet. I… I'm half-impressed, half-terrified."
Next attempt.
Hands out. Serious face. Eyebrows doing gymnastics.
Lyra whispered a spell under her breath, full of mystery and maybe mild concussion.
"Exploda cuta flama blasta!"
I squinted.
"…Did she just cast cereal?"
Result:
Nothing.
Just a pitiful sizzle—and a worm casually dragging itself out of the blast zone like, "I don't get paid enough for this."
"I'm dying. I'm actually dying," I gasped between chuckles.
"Kevin, you're a war criminal for letting this continue. My soul is breaking in cube-form."
Kevin rubbed his temples.
Levin had stopped trying to hold his smile.
And then—
Lyra planted her feet. Hands out. Eyes closed. Aura focused.
The atmosphere changed. Even the grass got quiet.
"Oho, my girl's changed—she's serious now. This is it," I whispered, sassy mode disengaged.
The air shimmered around her fingers. Mana coiled. The world held its breath—
"Ppppppffffft."
...
Everyone froze.
"Was that…?"
Kevin tilted his head, eyes wide.
"Lyra? Did you just—"
"IT WAS A FART, OKAY?!"
Lyra's eyes shot open, face instantly crimson.
"IT SLIPPED OUT! I DIDN'T MEAN TO—"
And that was it for me.
"OH MY GOD. I'M ROLLING. I'M LITERALLY ROLLING. I NEVER THOUGHT I'D BECOME THE ROFL EMOJI. THE EMOJI IS ME."
And I wasn't exaggerating.
My actual dice body was physically rolling back and forth on the boulder like a possessed bottle cap, clinking with every laugh.
Levin choked trying not to laugh. Kevin looked like he aged five years on the spot.
Lyra? Lyra turned toward me with the heat of ten thousand volcanoes burning in her soul and a murder aura.
Her eyes twitched. Her aura flared. Anime zoom. Three cuts. One heartbeat. "CAN YOU. JUST. SHUT. UP?!" YEET.
I didn't even have time to scream. One second I was basking in divine comedy— The next, I was airborne. Straight into the fire patch Kevin had lit earlier to warm the grass.
"I REGRET NOTHING!!" I howled mid-flight. I crashed into the smoldering weeds like a toasted marshmallow flung by destiny itself. Moments later, Kevin crouched, didn't speak, just sighed—then picked me up like a disappointed dad…, the kind of disappointment that comes not from anger—but resignation. He knew this would happen. He just hoped it wouldn't be today. He dusted me off with the weary precision of a man too tired to argue with the universe and set me gently on a stone like some tragic little burnt offering.
"What did you say to her to make her throw you like that?" he muttered.
Lyra was refocusing—fuming, but clearly not giving up.
Me? I figured it was time to behave. Maybe I had gone a little too hard on her. Maybe… it was time I tried that mana body theory myself.
Why not?
Kevin's voice echoed again in my mind:
"Breathe slow. In through the nose… out through the mouth. Focus. Feel your center. Your Root should feel like a warm thread inside your chest—soft, but deep. When you find it, just... rest there."
I took a breath.
Or… imagined one.
I didn't expect anything.
—I felt it again.
The Core.
"Now draw in the mana around you. Feel it like mist in the air. Guide it—gently—into your core."
I tried.
If it was imagination with rules—
Then I imagined me.
My body.
Legs. Arms. Fingers.
A six-pack I didn't deserve.
And then—
I shimmered.
A faint, translucent glow flickered upward.
A body. My body.
I had arms. Legs. I could feel my feet.
"I HAVE FEET!! I CAN STAND! I HAVE A—"
Pop.
Gone.
Like every dream a man has before tax season.
Back to being a dice.
But I was smiling.
Hope is dangerous.
And now? I had some.
For the first time since I crash-landed into this world, I had something to strive for.
Something real. Something mine.
I couldn't even explain it—it just felt damn insanely satisfying.
And when I looked back at Kevin…
My respect for him soared.
Like Hidden Dragon, Crouching Tiger.
(Minus the heartbreak and slow-motion bamboo sword fights.)
Meanwhile, on the other side of the battlefield:
Lyra sat cross-legged. Still trying.
Fizzle. Burst. Fizzle again.
Levin leaned in, voice low but steady.
"Hey... don't just imagine the fire. Match your breath to it.
Breathe like it's already burning inside your chest.
Start with warmth—just heat in your palm.
Let it grow. Slow and steady.
That's how I made mine stable."
Lyra paused.
Nodded.
Closed her eyes again.
This time, the mana shimmered.
Gathering.
Warming.
Fwsh. A flame. A real, actual flame flickered to life.
Levin grinned. Lyra gasped. I blinked from the rock.
"...Oh crap. She actually did it."
Kevin finally exhaled. Lyra stared at her hand like she'd just invented fire. "I DID IT?! I DID IT!!" She jumped up, the flame wobbling dangerously in the air.
"KEVIN I MADE FIRE!! REAL ACTUAL FLAME!!"
"AWCH! OUCH!!" Lyra screamed then puff—her flame was gone.
She turned to Kevin with wide, betrayed eyes. "Why did it burn me? I made it, but it still hurts!"
Kevin nodded like a teacher enjoying a good pop quiz moment. "That's the beauty—and danger—of magic. You're officially a mage now. When casting flame or any external spell, your body needs a protective mana coat. Thin enough to not disrupt the spell… but strong enough to shield you from its effects."
Lyra tilted her head. "Wait… you said 'external'? There's magic inside the body too?"
"Absolutely," Kevin replied. "That's where bloodline magic, inner techniques, and body modifications come in."
He raised a finger. "Advanced mages sometimes form a Mana Heart—a second heart made of mana, stabilizing their core. Some even develop a Mana Brain to enhance their perception and magical calculations."
Levin leaned forward. "Like... you upgrade yourself?"
"Exactly," Kevin said. "There are also Mana Veins—pathways reinforced for faster energy flow. Or Elemental Lungs, for fire mages who want to breathe heat without damage."
Lyra shot her hand up like she was answering a kindergarten pop quiz.
"So I can grow a magic box inside me to keep all my toys?"
Kevin chuckled, clearly enjoying this chaotic classroom energy.
"That's what all mages do."
And without warning—
POOF.
A massive bastard sword materialized in thin air above him.
Levin blinked. "…I thought that ring was just decorative."
He caught it mid-spin with a single hand and gave it a lazy, practiced swing, like a man who'd done this more times than he'd blinked.
"RAWR! HOW DID YOU DO THAT?! WHY DID YOU NEVER TEACH ME THIS?! RAWRRRR!!"
She was vibrating and shaking more than excited vibrator.
Kevin rested the sword on his shoulder.
"Because this," he said calmly, "is advanced mana manipulation.
You're still at the 'try not to explode the cabbage' stage."
She pouted aggressively.
"But the concept's simple," Kevin continued, unfazed.
He held up his left hand, revealing a plain silver ring.
"You take an object—like this ring. Most people use rings because they're small, durable, and worn close to the body. That proximity helps maintain stable mana resonance."
Mana flickered gently across the metal.
"Once infused, the object becomes an anchor—a fixed node in space. You then manipulate the surrounding mana to warp localized space around that anchor. That distortion creates a 'fold'—a personal, tethered dimension. Like a room in your pocket."
Lyra blinked.
"So... it's like a bag that breaks reality?"
"Exactly. You're folding dimensional space into itself and tethering it with your mana signature.
Get the flow wrong? The fold collapses.
Best case? You lose your sword.
Worst case? You lose your hand.
Or your lungs. Or intestines. Depends where you stored it."
"So this is where you keep stuff?" Lyra asked.
Kevin nodded.
"Yup. Weapon vaults. Tool kits. Emergency snacks. Spare outfits. Depends on how clean your folding technique is."
I sat up like someone who just heard "free snacks" and "black hole" in the same sentence.
"…So this is the legendary ring box trope from every fantasy novel ever??"
I narrowed my nonexistent dice-eyes.
"I never thought it actually had structure," I muttered. "Like... actual theory. With rules. This is real physics."
Then it hit me.
"Wait—Kevin just casually explained quantum spatial theory.
With anchored resonance points.
Flow regulation.
Dimensional compression.
In front of a five-year-old."
I paused, staring blankly into the void.
"A real physicist would cry if they read this."
I squinted at the sky.
And suddenly, I felt like trash.
"Today this man is legendary. He took Playboy Basics... and somehow made it sound like a PhD thesis in magical relativity. If Einstein were here, he'd stand up and clap. While doing a backflip."
Again I looked up solemnly.
"My PhD degree... I won't betray you again. Not this time. In this world... I'll let you shine, man."
Then came the moment of destiny.
"Is this my fate?
Am I the chosen one?
Is this… is this my calling?
Am I about to become the Einstein of Eden?"
The Magical Fold Hypothesis and the Mana Resonance Equation: A beginner's thesis by Dan Cross. Eden's future Nobel Prize winner. (Pending.)
And then it hit me.
Earth:
E = mc²
Eden:
E = Mana × c²
Energy equals mana times compressed spatial constant squared.
Mana becomes matter.
Magic is math.
E stands for Eden.
E stands for Earth.
C stands for compression.
M stands for mass.
He didn't invent it.
HE RETURNED FROM IT.
HE GOT ISEKAI'D FROM EDEN.
"…Oh my god," I whispered. "That madlad... was one of us."
Lyra raised her hand again, eyes full of wonder.
"So if I pee in the ring… can I make a spatial toilet?"
Kevin: "...Yes..."
Me: "KEVIN DON'T YOU DARE LET HER IMAGINATION RUN WILD"