"So… there's mages in this world?" Miguel asked after a long pause, his voice carrying a mix of curiosity and disbelief.
Nick leaned back against the cold wall, a small grin tugging at his lips. "Maybe. And maybe… we can become one too."
Miguel arched a brow. "How exactly?"
Nick looked almost offended that Miguel had to ask. "I've read a lot of novels, alright? Reincarnation, transmigration, all that fantasy stuff. If it works the same here, then magic's not impossible. You just have to… feel the mana in the surroundings, draw it into your core, and then you can use it."
Miguel gave him a skeptical look. "…You sure you're not just making this up?"
"Trust me," Nick said, already sitting cross-legged on the stone floor. "Worst case? We look like idiots for ten minutes. Best case? We get actual magic."
Miguel muttered something under his breath but watched as Nick closed his eyes and rested his hands on his knees. The cell was quiet except for the faint dripping of water somewhere in the distance.
Nick slowed his breathing. A minute passed… then two. His frown deepened, but just when Miguel thought he was about to give up, Nick's expression shifted slightly.
"…There it is," Nick whispered to himself.
A strange, subtle sensation—like a faint tingling in the air—seemed to brush against him. Invisible, yet somehow heavy. Mana. It was real. The knowledge sent a jolt of excitement through him.
He focused harder, guiding the strange energy toward himself, trying to gather it in a place deep inside—a place he instinctively knew was his "core." Minutes blurred together.
Meanwhile, Miguel shifted uncomfortably on the floor before deciding to try it too. If he can do it, so can I.
Nick kept at it, fully absorbed in the process. Ten minutes later, he opened his eyes, a little surprised that it had worked so smoothly. But then a thought crept in—Wait… isn't this too easy? If it's this simple, everyone could use magic.
He decided not to dwell on it. Doesn't matter. I have magic now.
Nick lifted his hand, concentrating on shaping the mana. He pictured water forming in his palm—cool, clear, and flowing. Slowly, impossibly, droplets appeared in midair, gathering into a small sphere. It shimmered faintly in the dim light.
The result? A water ball… the size of a candy.
Nick stared at it for a second, then chuckled. "Alright, not exactly impressive, but still—magic."
A sound from the other side of the cell made him turn. Miguel was still sitting cross-legged, eyes closed, his brow furrowed in concentration.
Huh. Guess he's trying it too.
Moments later, Miguel's eyes opened. He glanced at Nick's tiny water ball. "You… can already do it?"
Nick grinned. "Yep. Your turn."
Miguel hesitated, then held out his hand, focusing on the same image. The air around him seemed to grow heavier. A faint ripple passed through the space between them—then water began to swirl into existence above Miguel's palm.
But unlike Nick's tiny sphere, Miguel's water ball grew… and grew… until it was the size of a basketball.
Nick's jaw dropped. "You—what the hell—?!"
Miguel was frozen, staring at the massive water sphere hovering above his hand. His chest tightened, but it wasn't from fear. It was something else—a strange, burning feeling in his gut.
All my life… I've been at the bottom. Weak. Useless. But here… maybe I can change. Maybe this is my chance.
He was so lost in thought that he didn't notice the sphere trembling. Then—
Splaaash!
The water ball burst, drenching him completely. Miguel sputtered, water dripping from his hair. Nick pressed a fist to his mouth, trying—and failing—not to laugh.
"Shut up," Miguel muttered, though his tone was more embarrassed than angry.
Nick coughed into his hand, then quickly changed the subject. "Anyway… if magic's real, maybe we should check our affinity. You know—see which elements we're good at."
Miguel gave him a look. "Affinity?"
"Yeah, like in all those novels I've read. Different people have talent with different elements. Water, fire, earth, wind… maybe even more."
He didn't wait for Miguel to agree. "Let's try fire next."
Nick closed his eyes again, guiding mana toward his hand. This time, he pictured heat. Flames. A spark flared in his palm, growing into a small, flickering fireball. It wasn't huge, but it was steady.
Miguel tried the same, and a moment later, a smaller flame flickered in his palm—barely half the size of Nick's.
They both stared at each other.
"…Guess you're better at water," Nick said, a touch of satisfaction in his voice.
"And you're better at fire," Miguel admitted reluctantly.
It was a strange realization. They weren't rivals in everything. Their strengths were… different.
They spent the next few minutes experimenting, trying to call forth sparkling flames, and tiny whirlwinds of water. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. But each success felt like touching a dream they hadn't believed could be real.
Finally, Nick dusted off his hands and stood. His grin was back, wider than before. "Alright. We can use magic. That means we're not just helpless kids anymore."
Miguel got to his feet as well, brushing wet hair out of his face. "So what now?"
Nick's eyes glinted. "Now… we escape."
To be continued ...