Chapter 3: I Came for a Game, Not a Magical TED Talk
After a week of pretending we were Jedi monks on a spiritual cleanse, Diana and I finally made it to the airport. No games, no soda, no anime—well, I tried. Diana "accidentally" watched five recap episodes and called it "visual meditation."
Totally the same thing, right?
Anyway, the trip itself? Pretty uneventful, except for Diana trying to convince the TSA agent that her collectible wand was a "training focus" and not a blunt weapon. You'd think she was smuggling a dragon egg.
The real madness started when we landed.
Because let me tell you—this island?
Insane.
We're talking private tropical paradise meets billionaire tech wizard dream house. The air smelled like ocean and expensive sunscreen. There were palm trees, cool breezes, and absolutely zero signs of budget airlines or crying toddlers. Just silence, sun, and elegance. Diana took one step onto the island, breathed in, and declared, "Chris, if I don't become a mage, I'm staying here and becoming a coconut princess."
I didn't even argue.
Then we saw it.
The Palace.
Now, I know people use the phrase "palace" loosely. I've heard someone call their gaming setup a "battlestation palace" before (it was just two monitors and a cat). But this? This thing was bigger than three football stadiums stacked on top of each other, then dipped in gold and polished with luxury.
Massive white stone pillars. Floating lanterns that sparkled in broad daylight. Fountains that sang—I'm serious, one of them was humming the "Final Quest VI" soundtrack.
And the staff?
Every single person looked like they'd walked off a fantasy runway show. Tall, graceful, perfectly styled hair, uniforms crisp enough to cut steel. Even the driver who picked us up in a sleek hover-golf-cart thing had a chiseled jaw and a voice that sounded like he narrated perfume commercials.
"Welcome, Mr. Christopher. Miss Diana. We'll take you to the palace gates shortly."
He said our names with this perfect accent, like we were royalty. Diana just about passed out from sheer sparkle-induced overload. I managed a polite nod, though inside I was having a small internal breakdown because no one prepared me for this level of high fantasy meets sci-fi glamour.
As we drove through the grounds, Diana's nose was practically glued to the glass window, squealing every three seconds.
"Chris, did you see that! A floating garden! Look, enchanted statues! Oh my gosh, did that squirrel just teleport?!"
I was too busy trying to mentally calculate how many kidneys I'd need to sell to live here full time.
By the time we reached the actual palace entrance, Diana turned to me with sparkles in her eyes and said, "Chris, this is going to be epic."
I had to admit—this place didn't look like a marketing gimmick.
And suddenly, for the first time since this whole thing started, I had a weird feeling.
A tiny spark in my gut, like maybe… just maybe… this magic stuff?
Might be real.
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The palace gates opened like we were VIPs in a sci-fi fantasy theme park run by billionaires with too much time and not enough chill.
Diana was bouncing like a Pomeranian on sugar, and I was trying to pretend I wasn't overwhelmed by how ridiculously majestic everything looked. I mean, there were actual floating torches. Who makes torches float when you could just use LED lights like a normal person?
Anyway, we were guided to this smooth marble reception desk where a very pretty staff lady stood. And I mean very pretty—as in, she could've starred in a fantasy drama as "Mysterious Elf Queen #1."
She gave us a warm, professional smile, and handed us two sleek, futuristic-looking bracelets.
"These are your Magic Bracelets," she said, her voice so calm it made me feel like I was in a shampoo commercial. "Upon wearing this device, it will measure your will power level. In this game, your will power is your mana."
"Mana, like in Dark Fantasy Online?" Diana said, wide-eyed.
"Yes," the staff lady said with a nod, "but unlike in the game, this time it's not just numbers. It's you. Your emotional stability, your focus, your discipline—all of it. The stronger your will, the more powerful your magic. And the more frequently you can use it."
I turned the bracelet over in my hand. It was red, with a dark crystal at the center that shimmered in purple and black like it knew all my secrets and was silently judging me.
Diana, of course, slapped hers on immediately. "Oooh, it's warm!"
I was still hesitating. "So… this thing scans my personality and turns it into literal power?"
"Yes," the lady said. "Your mana level will vary from others. Your abilities will grow based on how you train your mind, your emotions, and your conviction."
I stared at the bracelet.
So basically, this was a magical Fitbit for my soul. Cool cool cool.
"And what exactly are we playing for again?" I asked, even though I'd skimmed the site in a half-skeptical fog earlier.
She smiled again. "The winner shall receive 10% ownership of the game company and will co-design the upcoming global release as the Chief World Architect."
Diana let out a small gasp. "Chris, we're going to be gaming legends!"
I raised a brow. "If we don't explode ourselves first trying to summon anime-tier explosions, sure."
Then I asked the big question. The real one. "So… can we really make any magic technique?"
"Anything," she said, with the kind of confidence that made me nervous. "Teleportation, gravity manipulation, elemental control, summoning, time distortion... The only limit is your imagination."
"That sounds incredibly dangerous," I said, because someone had to say it.
"There are safeguards," she replied, which was the exact sort of vague answer you give right before someone blows up a garden.
"But," she added, "every player has a unique affinity—an element or concept that resonates with your personality—and a trigger. Something that emotionally anchors or activates your will power. You must figure out yours before you can reach your potential."
Diana and I exchanged a look.
So… this wasn't just some fancy LARP session.
It was a magical Hunger Games meets Inside Out, powered by your ability to not have a meltdown under pressure.
Diana grinned. "I bet my affinity is lightning! Or maybe chaos!"
I nodded slowly. "Yeah. Mine's probably 'mild panic' or 'passive-aggressive sarcasm.'"
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The inside of the palace looked like a billionaire had binge-watched Game of Thrones, Harry Potter, and every fantasy anime ever made—and then said, "Yes, this is my vibe."
There were crystal chandeliers bigger than my living room, velvet sofas that practically begged you to nap on them, gold-trimmed everything, and food tables so loaded, even my video game inventory system would've thrown a warning.
"Oh my gods," Diana gasped, sprinting toward a tray of glowing macarons. "We've entered the holy land."
I was still trying to process how very much not a normal school trip this was. There were hundreds of other participants—maybe all 500—gathered around, most of them already trying on their bracelets or flexing like they were ready to unlock Super Saiyan Ultra Instinct modes.
I flopped onto a ridiculously comfortable sofa and reached for a croissant that looked like it had been handcrafted by an elven bakery in a forest of eternal morning dew.
Then came the voice.
"Welcome to Real Dark Fantasy," said a man in a long, very magical-looking coat as he appeared in the center of the hall like some kind of NPC Gandalf. "This is your tutorial period."
The room fell quiet as everyone turned toward the guy. He smiled like he'd been waiting for this moment his whole life.
"In this phase, you are to explore your will power," he said, raising his hand. "Through it, you will discover your affinity and your first unique ability."
Then he did something casual. You know. Like summon a giant flaming bird.
The thing whooshed into existence above his palm with a screech like a fire phoenix, made a few lazy loops around the ceiling (without setting anything on fire—props), and returned to his shoulder like it was a trained parrot on steroids.
"Your imagination shapes your power," he continued. "Your emotions are your key. Think deeply. Concentrate. And then, try."
The entire room exploded into motion. Some people were meditating. Others were yelling dramatic attack names like it was an anime convention. A guy near me screamed "Black Dragon Inferno!" and farted, which honestly, might've been his power.
Diana, of course, was already sitting cross-legged on the marble floor, eyes shut, humming some anime theme song while her bracelet glowed faintly purple.
I looked down at mine. It just sat there. Cold and silent. Like it was judging me for that second slice of cake I'd grabbed.
"Alright," I muttered, "let's try this. Deep breath. Focus."
I thought about lightning. Darkness. Cool explosions. Being awesome.
Nothing.
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Diana and I stood there like tourists at Disneyland, except instead of Mickey Mouse ears, everyone was wearing glowing bracelets and unlocking powers like we were in some superhero anime prequel.
"Did that guy just punch fire into existence?" Diana whispered, pointing.
Yeah. He did.
One guy—built like a linebacker with rage issues—was throwing shadow punches into the air, and every time he growled about someone "talking shit," flames exploded from his fists. Real flames. Not special effects.
I stepped back.
"Remind me not to trash talk anyone here," I muttered.
Then there was the opposite kind of guy.
Across the room, a guy in a hoodie was practically trying to become one with the couch. He kept muttering to himself like a background character who wandered into the wrong story.
"Too many people. I hate crowds. I don't belong here…"
And bam. He vanished.
Not like "scooted away when no one was watching" vanished—he literally disappeared.
Diana's jaw dropped. "Whoa. That was so creepy—and cool. Think he turned invisible or just poofed to another dimension?"
"Knowing this place?" I said, eyes wide. "Either way, I'm staying away from hoodie boy. He's clearly leveling up his social anxiety into a stealth build."
All around us, players were discovering their "triggers." Some were shouting dramatic one-liners. Others meditated, laughed, cried, or even danced (yes, one girl literally did a TikTok dance and conjured butterflies). The air shimmered with colors, sparks, and raw emotional chaos.
But not everyone was popping off.
In fact, more than half the players—including me and Diana—were still standing there with bracelets as quiet as rocks. Not that it mattered. The energy in the room was pure joy. Nobody looked frustrated or angry. For most of us, just being here was enough.
This was every gamer's dream made real.
Diana nudged me. "You think… maybe I'm not magical?"
I laughed. "You? Not magical? Please. You've got enough chaotic energy to power a small wizarding town."
"I'm serious," she pouted. "What if mine's broken?"
"Then yours is just saving it up for a big dramatic reveal," I said. "Like that moment in an anime where the hero almost dies, then suddenly grows wings and shoots lasers from their eyebrows."
She smirked. "Eyebrow lasers. That's your trigger, isn't it?"
I groaned. "Please, no. My dignity's hanging by a thread."
Still, I looked down at my bracelet. Just a black-purple crystal and red band, resting silently on my wrist like it had better things to do.
But I wasn't giving up.
I'd seen what the others did—what emotion or thought flipped the switch for them.
Maybe it wasn't about forcing it.