“The current Mage World is divided into the Surface World—the main material plane—and the Inner World, where the sacred towers stand. Yet whether surface or inner, both are simply parts of one real world.
Here, though mages can, through their understanding of knowledge and acceptance of the Source, bring about certain alterations, those changes must ultimately conform to the laws of reality. They cannot be conjured at whim.”
The three True Spirit Mages nodded at these words. Each of them possessed the ability to create planes, yet as Adam said, the basic rules of any plane they shaped still resembled those of the ordinary planes adrift in the Aetheric Void. For example, it was impossible for them to create a plane identical to that of the Third Era.
“But a virtual world is different. There, the programr is the Creator. With code and data, we can present anything we desire—be it magic runes, incantations, bloodlines, energies, or even entire worldviews.”
After returning to the Mage World, Adam’s personal chip had rebooted itself. The battle data he had gathered from Grandmaster True Spirit Mage of Kratos had been uploaded to his private servers. The short few minutes of combat had been enough to fill several server clusters in his laboratory.
Now, applying to link his chip with those of the True Spirits, Adam ford a local network. Once the holographic projection manifested, he entered his programming interface.
Before their very eyes, Adam quickly coded a simple pixel-based ga. Professions, settings, worldviews—all followed the mage system. He then controlled a tiny pixel avatar to move, interact, learn spells, and fight within a lone map.
“This is sothing called a ga. Within it, I can, from a third-person perspective and under fixed rules, control this avatar to complete tasks and grow stronger.”
The True Spirits each created their own characters and tried it briefly. Lord Protheus remarked, “An imaginative device. Go on.”
“This ga is crude. Beyond a bit of entertainnt, a mage gains nothing from it. But if we alter its foundations—”
Adam shut down his chip and instead conjured with illusion a corner of a new world, displaying his concept.
“Mages can perceive their own souls from apprenticeship and wield limited soul force. If we grant new permissions to the chip, altering its source code, we could upload the soul itself.
At that point, mages would be able to enter a virtual world in soul-form. And everything within that world could instantly synchronize back to their soul.”
“Instant synchronization? You an—?”
Adam nodded. “Yes. If the program is written flawlessly, every sensation could be replicated. Whatever is learned in the virtual world—the feel of combat, even the pain of death—can be experienced. We could even adjust ti flow within, granting mages more hours to study.
Since it is their own soul entering, the experience gained in the virtual world would integrate seamlessly with the body. After a short familiarization, it becos real strength.”
“This is why you required the Martial Core?” True Spirit Laura lifted a core sealed beneath layers of runes, playing with it.
“It is one reason. The divine races of the Primordial Realm possess effective ans of creating relative tilines. If we fuse their thods with our own, the ti flow of the virtual world would beco more authentic. And since the soul itself enters, mages above the official rank need not fear the lifespan crises caused by detaching from a relative ti flow.”
Adam gestured at the core. “More importantly, in the virtual world we can host Qi. Or, at the simplest, simulate Qi with data.
By inputting the data we’ve gathered about Third Era remnants, we can create virtual beings. These can battle the entering mages.
We can even grant these virtual beings intelligence—allowing them to form societies, establish schools, let their systems evolve on their own.
This benefits us in two ways: mages gain firsthand experience with the powers of the Third Era, and the virtual constructs, by adapting their arts through battle, will generate new data for us to analyze.
Even war trials could adopt this mode, eliminating today’s inefficiencies. Reservists could spar directly with creatures of foreign planes, giving us a far clearer asure of their worth.”
Seeing the True Spirits’ thoughtful expressions, Adam pressed on: “The significance of virtual reality does not end there. Its ultimate form, I believe, is to create a world apart from both surface and inner realms. There, distance ceases to matter. Mages may communicate, exchange spells, and share knowledge instantly.
At that ti, any concept could be built into an instance world, offered to those in need. Novices, task-bound mages—anyone—could adventure within, face what they are destined to face, and rapidly forge real combat strength.”
Adam fell silent then. The frawork was laid. Should they approve, matters like reward chanisms or the price of soul-death within the virtual world could be settled during final calibration.
The chief problem remained: a mage’s soul was paramount. Until now, only the Mage Net had authority to manipulate souls. Adam’s plan would effectively dilute that authority.
It was a difficult breach. There was no precedent. No one knew what consequences might arise once the complete soul gained another hosting system. When personal chips had first interfaced with the Mage Net, it had required a full convocation. This new project demanded far greater permissions—and carried even more danger.
Yet Adam underestimated the True Spirits. They had already glimpsed the possibilities in his proposal. If realized, the virtual world would make mages far stronger, and with their strength, the mage system itself would evolve faster. Such benefits were irresistible.
Their thoughts were already elsewhere.
After a long silence, Lord Protheus finally spoke: “We must admit, you have persuaded us. Return and make preparations. We shall reach a decision as swiftly as possible, then inform you.”
Adam inclined his head.
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