Inside Kintovar’s shattered mind, the words “game over” echoed like a haunting game screen, blinking in a void of static and noise.

  Her hands reached for controls that no longer existed. No buttons to press. No reset switch. No second chances. The cold realization gnawed at her deeply.

  ‘I lost….’

  But losing wasn’t part of the equation.

  A scientist of undeniable will—Dr. Kintovar was never meant to lose her life like this. She had built the blueprint, written the code, forged the pieces. So why—why was she the one dying?

  But in the darkest corners of her consciousness, she heard something calling out,

  "Varta... Varta..."

  How long had it been since anyone called her by that name? Five years? Ten years? She was always known as Dr.Kintovar, so this…she knew that could only be one person.

  The moment she blinked, the void collapsed.

  Warm light flooded her vision. The air smelled… different. Not of chemicals or scorched metal, but of old parchment and faint traces of magic itself woven into walls.

  Her legs felt short. Her fingers, tiny. Her head felt strangely light. They were free of the usual weight of her headphones. And then—

  “Varta, it’s time for another day of technology. Come on!”

  The voice was deep but familiar. Her eyes widened when she saw a man standing infront of her. He had orange hair tied back in a ponytail and sunglasses. His jacket was slightly worn at the edges. He gestured for her to follow him.

  Her little feet hesitated before stepping forward. The bed she had been sitting on was barely more than a cot. The walls were plain and cramped. She should remember this room—shouldn’t she?

  Varta followed the man who led her up a narrow set of stairs. Where were they going?

  She should know. She didn’t. And that scared her.

  The man chuckled while they walked. "Ah, I know you hear this everyday but, who would've thought that we'd end up on an island with people who've never seen technology? Not only that, people who think Magic is superior. This is an exciting time for us scientists though! We’ll show these uneducated saps what technology is all about!"

  The steps led them outside. The cool island air brushed against Varta’s face. The sky of the Mystical forest stretched endlessly above them with a swirl of twilight hues.

  The man patted a bulky metal contraption beside him.

  “Alright, kiddo, feast your eyes on this beauty,” he declared while spreading his arms theatrically. “Behold—the latest and greatest in scientific innovation: the Sky Breaker!”

  Varta blinked at the device. It looked like a… backpack? But with thrusters and strange etchings glowing faintly along its surface.

  The man continued. “You see, the problem with this island isn’t just that it’s full of people who think magic is the end-all-be-all. It’s that the damn place rejects flight itself. Too much high-density mana in the air—it screws with everything. Even mages here can’t fly for long before they get yanked back down.”

  Varta tilted her head. “But then… how does this work?”

  The man’s grin widened. “Because I made it work.”

  Varta frowned. “You… created this?”

  “Ohohoho, yes,” he said while raising one finger. “The so-called ‘greatest mages’ here claimed no device could stabilize flight in an atmosphere this dense but look! I found a way.” He tapped the glowing inscriptions along the jetpack. “By merging magic with technology, I bypassed their stupid little rules. And now, watch this.”

  The man strapped the device onto his back, pressed a button, and—

  FWOOOOOSH!

  The ‘Sky Breaker’ ignited and lifted him into the air. For a brief, glorious moment, it worked. The man floated above the ground, laughing triumphantly.

  Then—

  BANG!

  The engine sputtered. Sparks exploded from the thrusters. The triumphant laughter turned to a startled yelp.

  The man plummeted and hit the ground with a heavy THUD. The jetpack snapped apart on impact.

  “…Ow,” he groaned while rolling onto his back.

  Varta just stared.

  The ‘greatest invention’ had lasted all of three seconds.

  “…So,” she said slowly while raising one hand over her mouth. “That was supposed to happen?”

  The man let out a weak chuckle while still sprawled out on the ground. “Ahaha… well… failures are just the stepping stones to success, kiddo…”

  Varta wasn’t sure what was funnier—the fact that he had actually believed it would work or the fact that despite everything… a tiny part of her had believed in it too.

  The next thing Varta knew, the world around her lurched.

  The broken jetpack, the man’s defeated groan—everything vanished in a rush of blurred colors.

  Then—

  Stillness.

  When her vision cleared, she found herself standing in a chamber with stone walls which had magic running through them.

  Rows of scientists stood rigidly in front of her with their heads bowed. Not a single breath dared to rise above a whisper.

  A hand suddenly grasped her wrist. She flinched.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  The man—her scientist—was beside her. His face was tense and behind those sunglasses, she could feel his urgency.

  “Varta—quickly—” he whispered.

  She didn’t need to be told twice. She ducked her head.

  Footsteps echoed through the chamber like a judge’s gavel slamming down.

  THUD. THUD. THUD.

  A shadow moved over the stone floor.

  Varta didn’t dare look up, but she could feel his presence—the Head Mage.

  She could hear him breathing, a wheezy sound like someone trying to inhale through layers of self-importance. He shuffled forward with his ceremonial robes swishing from his movement.

  A snort. Then a sharp, wet sound—a sniff.

  Disgust curled through his tone. “Goddess me, the stench of metal is unbearable today.”

  Varta kept her gaze down, but in the corner of her vision, she saw his bloated hand rise and pointing.

  “Her.”

  A female scientist, just a few places ahead of Varta stiffened. Her mistake was small—so small.

  Her head was a fraction too high.

  The Head Mage clicked his tongue in irritation. “Such insolence! Such blatant disrespect for the laws of magic. These scientists… they struggle to understand their place.”

  Varta’s fists clenched at her sides.

  The woman didn’t move. She didn’t breathe.

  The Head Mage gave a dismissive wave. “But it wasn’t you. You’re lucky for that alone, or it would have been another magical flogging today.”

  He turned away from her.

  THUD. THUD. THUD.

  His heavy footsteps stopped in front of Varta.

  She shivered.

  Was it her? Oh no... What did she do?

  She kept her head bowed, but her small fingers curled tightly against her sides.

  The silence stretched for a long minute.

  Then—

  The Head Mage moved to the man beside her.

  Varta dared to peek.

  Her scientist. The man raised his head slightly.

  The Head Mage spoke.

  “Vartan.”

  Varta’s mind clicked. ‘Vartan.’

  She looked up at him with wide eyes, putting two and two together.

  This man—this eccentric, grinning, ever-inventing scientist—

  Was her father.

  But before she could fully process it, the Head Mage continued,

  “You’re the one who created those machines that attacked the Academy the other day.”

  A few scientists tensed.

  Varta’s breath hitched.

  “You are a danger to society,” the Head Mage sneered. “And so, in accordance with the Headmaster’s decree, you will be executed in fourteen days.”

  Vartan snapped up with his arms swinging. His fist collided with the Head Mage’s bloated face with a sickening crunch.

  The impact sent the robed man crashing to the ground with ceremonial beads scattering across the stone floor.

  Gasps came from the other scientists.

  “You think you can just pull this bullshit?!” Vartan boomed through the chamber. The guards at the edges of the room gripped their staffs and got ready to assist the head mage.

  Vartan took a step forward and towered over the Head Mage.

  “You got no proof!” he snapped. “None! I won’t—”

  “Papa, stop!”

  A small voice.

  Desperate.

  Varta.

  She clung to his coat with her tiny hands pulling. Her small face was tight with frustration. Her lips trembled as little tears gathered at the edges of her eyes.

  For a moment, Vartan hesitated, and in that instant, the Head Mage got up. Blood dripped from his swollen nose. His swollen lips curled into a cruel grin.

  “Seven.”

  Varta stiffened.

  “Not fourteen,” the Head Mage hissed while wiping his face with the back of his sleeve.

  “Seven days. I’ll make sure the Headmaster cuts it down to seven.”

  Kintovar’s world blurred and warped before snapping into place. Gone was the oppressive chamber. Now, she was in a cluttered workspace.

  And right in front of her—

  “Hara—”

  Before Kintovar could even fully say her name, a high-pitched squeal cut through the air:

  “VARTA! FINALLY, FINALLY, FINALLYYYYY HERRE!”

  Kintovar barely had time to register before she was caught in a bone-crushing hug.

  “Gah—Haras!” she choked while pushing against the iron grip.

  Haras grinned while bouncing on her heels. Her bubblegum-colored hair was pulled into messy twin buns.

  “I waited forever for you! You’re, like, a whole five minutes late, do you know how much can happen in five minutes?! I could’ve built an entire reactor—OR blown one up—OR BOTH!”

  Kintovar sighed and adjusting her coat. She turned to the large desk. Schematics—her schematics—were spread across the surface.

  They were complex. Not something a child their age should be drawing.

  Kintovar tapped the paper.

  Haras’s eyes widened.

  “Oooooh! These are new!” she chirped while scooping up the schematics. “Lemme guess! It’s—uh—ooh, wait! Don’t tell me! I know this one—Artificial Life Prototypes, right?!”

  Kintovar smirked.

  Haras may have been a hyperactive mess, but when it came to science, her brain was sharp.

  “Exactly,” Kintovar said while crossing her arms. “With the materials we have, it might take approximately thirteen years to complete them.”

  Haras pouted. “Ugh, that’s, like, forever.”

  “It’ll be faster if we work together,” Kintovar continued. “And if we succeed, we’ll finally be able to—”

  Haras perked up.

  “ESCAPE?!”

  Kintovar gave a single nod.

  Haras’s face lit up.

  “OH HO HO, NOW THIS I LIKE!” she cackled while snatching a wrench from the table. “Alright, Professor Genius! You got yourself a deal!”

  That night, Kintovar found herself hunched over her workbench. The rhythmic scratching of her pencil filled the tiny room. The only other sound was the faint hum of dormant machinery.

  Behind her, sprawled across her bed—because it was always her bed—Haras lay fast asleep.

  She had kicked off the blankets again. And then—

  “Varta, that’s amaaazing…”

  The words came in a sleepy murmur.

  Kintovar glanced over with one brow twitching.

  …Encouraging.

  Kintovar exhaled and shifted her focus back to her schematics.

  The lines. The numbers. The calculations.

  Thirteen years.

  That was the estimated time to complete the Artificial Life Prototypes with the scraps they had.

  But her father… he only had seven days.

  The Head Mage—that pompous, bloated bastard had gotten the Headmaster to agree to shortening the sentence. Artificial creations weren’t going to be fast enough.

  She needed something faster. Her mind raced, but nothing came to her yet.

  Only a day later, the scientists were lined up once again.

  The Head Mage stood before them with his ceremonial robes slightly ruffled. A faint sheen of sweat drained down his bald head. His usual air of smug confidence was…fractured.

  That was new.

  Varta felt the familiar, firm touch of her father’s hand resting on her shoulder.

  “Varta,” Vartan whispered while crouching slightly to be at her level. “Remember—bow. Just like before.”

  She nodded automatically.

  He studied her face for something. Then, he gave a small, gentle smile.

  “Don’t worry.”His tone was calm. “They can’t possibly make things worse for us.”

  The Head Mage cleared his throat—loudly. “There has been a mix-up. So... Vartan is not going to be executed.”

  The room fell silent for a heartbeat. The scientists exchanged glances.

  “Instead, it will be Varta….And the execution will take place in two days.”

  Varta’s heart—her very soul—skipped a beat. Her father—her only family—wasn’t going to die?

  But she?

  Varta felt her breath catch in her throat.

  She was the one they were going to execute.

  Vartan's face shattered. His lips curled into a dark, terrifying snarl. His eyes—blazing with fury—locked onto the Head Mage. If looks could kill, he would have crushed the man with a single glare.

  The man moved before anyone else could react.

  A sharp, metallic click. A sleek, makeshift firearm—his own design—was now aimed directly at the Head Mage’s fat, sweating face.

  The scientists collectively stiffened. The guards stationed nearby froze as well.

  Vartan’s voice was thunderous.

  “What did you just say?”

  The sheer fury behind his words rattled the Head Mage to his very bones.

  “Y-you heard me,” the Head Mage stammered. His hands flexed in preparation for a spell.

  But he hesitated.

  Vartan noticed.

  He took a step forward.

  “You’re telling me that my daughter is being executed—”

  The Head Mage swallowed thickly.

  “I-I didn’t make the decision,” he spat out.

  “Then who did?!”

  The gun inched closer.

  The Head Mage flinched. Visibly. “T-the Headmaster! If you have complaints, take them up with her! Not me!”

  A shadow suddenly came across the room.

  The Headmaster had arrived.

  A sharp gasp rippled through the room. Even the Head Mage couldn’t keep the shock from spilling from his face once she stepped out from behind him.

  She had been there the whole time watching, listening.

  Her molten silver eyes swept the room. Her gaze settled on Vartan first, then shifted to Varta.

  “Complaints? Seems I have to make some of my own.”

  Project Mage