The old instructor began to point out the parts of the machine one by one. "The Bending Machine is essentially composed of three main sections: Input, Production, and Resource. We call them the Screen, the Production Band, and the Reservoir. But this is a very crude description. We have been studying this machine for hundreds of years and still have not unraveled its entire secret. There are parts we have identified and named, but there are just as many unnamed components whose purpose we do not understand."
Kefius walked over to the rightmost screen. "This is the Input unit. We call it 'Meka'." He reached for the black crown in the slot and lifted it carefully. "And this is the 'Fuj'. This is the point where your mind meets the machine."
He held the Fuj out to Robert. Robert took the crown. It was heavier than he expected, and the metal he touched was not cold, but had an organic warmth. "You put this on your head," Kefius explained. "And you try to establish a mental connection with the Meka. This is the hardest part of the process. You must synchronize your mind with the machine's frequency. At first, you will only hear noise and chaos. But when you manage to focus, a visual reflection of your thoughts will begin to appear on the Meka's screen."
Kefius touched the thin cord extending from the Fuj. "Your mental data, your 'dream', flows through this 'Neural Line' and..." He pointed to the central production band. "...it reaches the 'Matrix' here. The Matrix is where your abstract thought is transformed into a physical schematic."
Then he walked to the storage unit on the far left. "And this is the 'Ambar' (Reservoir). The basic raw materials required for production are stored here." He pointed to the gauges on the unit. There were three main gauges.
"These are the three fundamental components for creating everything in the known universe," he said. "The first is 'Chromatic Pico-Particles'. Or as you know it, Paint. But this is not simple paint. Each particle has programmable color and texture."
He pointed to the second gauge. The dust inside it shimmered slightly. "This is 'Malazar's Breath'. That is, Magic Dust. This is the catalyst that imparts magical or abnormal properties to the object you create."
Finally, he indicated the largest container. The liquid inside was silvery, dense, and rippled slowly. "And this is the most important one. 'Protocolasm'. We call it the Essence Liquid. This is pure potential energy. It is the fundamental substance that allows the schematic from the Neural Line to take physical form. The Paint gives color, the Magic Dust adds properties, but Protocolasm... it turns 'nothing' into 'something'."
Kefius returned to the side of the production band, the Matrix. His face wore the serious expression of a surgeon before an operation. "You design your dream in the Meka. You select the necessary resources from the Ambar. And finally, when you give the 'Create' command... it all happens here."
He reached for a latch on the edge of the translucent cover over the production band. "The secret of this machine, Lilya's genius, lies right here."
With a hissing sound, the cover began to lift slowly with hydraulics. Robert leaned forward, holding his breath, to see the view unfolding beneath the cover.
And what he saw strained the limits of his mind. The inside was a miniature city. Billions of microscopic robotic arms, crystal needles, and light-emitting channels were intertwined in an impossible geometry. Silvery rivers where Protocolasm flowed merged with shimmering clouds of Magic Dust and colorful storms of Paint particles, being assembled at an atomic level by these miniature arms with unimaginable speed and precision.
"This is the heart of the Matrix," Kefius whispered, gazing at the incredible sight revealed by the rising cover. "And your first lesson will be learning how to manage this chaos..."
The unbelievable sight of that miniature, chaotic city at the heart of the Matrix was seared into Robert's mind like a brand. The atomic-level dance of billions of robotic arms was living proof of how a dream was made flesh—or rather, metal and energy. With the touch of Kefius Arateon's hand on a latch, the Matrix's translucent cover slowly and silently closed again. The smooth, dark, and mysterious surface once again replaced the dizzying activity within. The deep hum emanating from the machine felt like the unceasing echo of the incredible creation process he had just witnessed.
"Everything begins and ends here," Kefius said, his voice like a sage's whisper in the quiet room. "Protocolasm, Magic Dust, Chromatic Particles... These are just the paint and the canvas. The real artist is you, Robert. Your mind."
Robert couldn't take his eyes off the machine. "How... how can I possibly control this? This is like... managing a universe."
"Exactly so," Kefius confirmed. "And before you can manage a universe, you must understand the universe within yourself. When you put on the Fuj and connect your mind to the Meka, you don't just send a command to the machine. You send a piece of your soul, a raw, unfiltered extract of your imagination. If that extract is unstable, filled with fear or doubt, what you create inside the Matrix will be a monster. Your thoughts, your fears, your hopes... they are all woven into the atomic structure of the object you create. Using this machine with an uncontrolled mind is no different from lighting a torch next to a powder keg."
The old Malken turned slowly to Robert. His deep, starry eyes seemed to look not just at Robert's face, but inside his skull, at the very folds of his brain. "That is why your first lesson will not be with this machine, but with its power source. With you."
Kefius turned his back to Robert and walked toward the wall directly opposite the door they had entered. Robert hadn't noticed a door there before. The wall was smooth and black, like the rest of the room. But when Kefius placed his hand on the wall, thin, silvery lines appeared on the surface, and a circular door quietly revealed itself, sliding inward.
Beyond the open door was absolute darkness. From within came a low-frequency vibration, entirely different from the technological hum of the Bending Machine—more ancient, more organic, like the breathing of a giant creature in a deep sleep.
"Come," said Kefius. "I will show you how we measure the weight of a Dream Bender's mind. I will take you to the Nodron Chamber."
Robert followed him hesitantly. The moment he stepped through the circular doorway, he felt as if he had passed from a temple of technology into a thousand-year-old cave. The air was cooler and damper. The floor beneath his feet was not metal, but cold, smooth stone. When the door slid shut silently behind them, they were left in pitch darkness. For a moment of panic, he was about to reach his hand out to the wall when a pale, ivory-colored light began to emanate from the center of the room.
The light slowly revealed its source. Standing in the very middle of the room, rising from the floor, was a massive, three-dimensional structure. It was not a machine; it more resembled the fossilized skeleton of a forgotten god. It was composed of hundreds of intertwined, curving, bone-like arms. Suspended in the center where the arms met was a large, smooth, obsidian-like sphere. The entire structure was like a colossal, unsolvable puzzle. Unlike the sterile and orderly complexity of the Bending Machine, this place possessed a primal and chaotic beauty.
"This is the Nodron," Kefius whispered. His voice sounded more resonant and ancient in this chamber. "It is older even than Lilya. Those who dug the foundations of the Academy found it in this room, just like this. We do not know what it is or who made it. We only know what it does: It maps the architecture of a mind. It is a doorway into a dreamscape."
At the base of the Nodron, a stone platform was carved into the floor, shaped for a human body to lie upon. Kefius directed Robert to that platform. "Do not be afraid. This is not a test of pain, but a journey of discovery. I am sending you to your deepest self, to your own dreamscape."
Robert's heart beat faster as he lay down on the cold stone platform. His own dreamscape... What did that mean? Would he see the cluttered state of his lab in Oakhaven? His family's faces? Or his deepest fears?
Kefius touched one of the Nodron's bone-like arms. The ivory light from the structure brightened for a moment, and the low-frequency hum turned into a palpable vibration. The old Malken's eyes were glowing brighter than usual. "Release your mind, Robert. Do not resist. Just imagine you are drifting on a river. The Nodron will take you where you need to go."
Robert closed his eyes. He felt the black sphere at the Nodron's center descend toward him, stopping just before it touched his forehead. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a shiver ran through his entire body, as if an ice-cold liquid had been injected into his veins. The sound of the room, Kefius's presence, the coldness of the stone platform... all of it slowly began to recede, fading behind a curtain of fog. His mind, freed from the shackles of his own body and reality, was falling into an infinite void.
When Robert opened his eyes, he was no longer horizontal. He was standing. But he didn't know where. He was surrounded by a gray, endless void, neither fully light nor fully dark. There was no floor, no ceiling, no walls. Just a misty nothingness... and doors.
Thousands, perhaps millions, of doors. Stretching as far as the eye can see, doors of every shape, every size, and every material. Some were heavy oak, like the gates of an ancient castle, with rusty iron hinges. Others were smooth, white, and had glowing panels, like the airlock of a futuristic spaceship. A red, wooden barn door stood next to a shimmering crystal door that showed the inside. Some doors seemed to float slightly off the ground, some were lying on their side, some were upside down.
This was a vast library of possibilities and memories. Each door was a passage to a thought, a memory, a fear, or a dream in Robert's mind.
The first thing he felt was an overwhelming fear. He could be lost in this infinite labyrinth. But then, it gave way to curiosity. He slowly took a step toward the nearest door. It was a simple, paint-peeled wooden door, much like the cellar door of his home in Oakhaven. The moment he reached out and touched the knob, a pale, warm light began to seep from the edges of the door. The door had come alive at his touch.
Robert was surprised. He pulled his hand back; the light went out. He touched it again; the light returned. He understood in that moment. The source of light here was himself. This world was a reflection of his consciousness, and it was shaped by his will.
"Let there be light," he whispered, his voice echoing in the strange void.
And there was light.
But this was no simple illumination. A wave of energy, emanating from the center of Robert's mind, began to travel among the doors. Each door, as the wave reached it, began to glow with a light appropriate to its nature. Doors to happy memories shone with a warm, golden light; doors to his fears with a cold, blue glimmer; and doors to his scientific thoughts and projects with a clear, white light. The infinite gray void instantly transformed into a galaxy of trillions of stars and nebulas. Luminous paths, representing streams of thought, appeared between the doors. This was no longer a labyrinth, but a map of his mind.
Robert, marveling at this wonder of his own creation, walked among these paths for hours, perhaps days. He cracked open a door to a childhood memory and smelled his mother's cookies. He looked at a door leading to a complex algorithm for his project and felt the equations flow through his mind. He quickly moved away from the door that opened onto a stormy night; the coldness radiating from it chilled him to the bone.
During this exploration, in the midst of all this brilliance and complexity, he noticed an anomaly. A simple, smooth, white, knobless door that, unlike all the others, emitted no light and drew no attention. While the others shouted, this one whispered. And Robert knew, instinctively, that this was the most important door.
He slowly approached it. Standing in front of it, he saw his own reflection on its surface. This door did not lead to his memories or his knowledge, but directly to his own essence. He took a deep breath and placed his hand on the door's smooth surface. The door rippled like the surface of a pool of water and pulled him in, and the world became white.
When he opened his eyes, he was in a completely different place. The doors were gone. He was in an infinite, featureless, white room. Everywhere was so bright and white that it was impossible to distinguish the floor from the ceiling, the walls from the void. This was the place where everything began and ended. The blank canvas of his mind.
And he was not alone.
Standing a few meters away from him was someone. This person was himself.
The same height, the same hair, the same face, the same clothes... A perfect copy in every detail. But there was one difference. The eyes of this copy did not hold the surprise and fear that were in Robert's own eyes at that moment. Instead, there was an all-knowing, calm, almost divine tranquility. This was not Robert in the storm; this was Robert in the eye of the storm.
"Who... who are you?" Robert stammered. "Is this part of the test? A trick by Kefius?"
The Robert opposite him smiled. It was his own smile, but far more self-assured. "I am not a trick. I am the test. I am you, Robert. The part of you that has always been here, that hears everything, that remembers everything."
Robert's brain rejected the idea. Anger suppressed his fear and astonishment. "You're lying! You're an illusion! A dream!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the white void.
"It's true that I am a dream," said the other, without losing his calm. "But that doesn't mean I'm not real. I am the guardian of everything behind those thousands of doors. I am the one who remembers the tears you shed the day your first toy broke, and the triumph of writing the last line of your project. I am the one who knows the smell of your home in Oakhaven, and the one who fears the storm. I am your subconscious. Your intuition. The source of your creativity."
Robert took an angry step toward him. "If you are me, why are you talking to me? Get out of my head!"
"Because you knocked on the door," his copy said, growing serious. "For years, I have waited behind this door for you to notice me. You want to use that machine. You want to bend reality. But without understanding yourself, your own foundation, what will you bend? Can a painter paint without knowing his canvas? Can a musician compose a symphony without understanding his instrument? I am your instrument, Robert. And until now, you have only been using a few of its notes."
Robert paused. The other's words were beginning to breach the walls of his anger. It made sense. Frighteningly, it made sense. He began to calm down, his breathing slowed.
"Why... why have you never appeared before?" he asked, his voice softer.
"Because there was no need. In your world, reality was fixed. The rules were clear. Your dreams were just in your head. But here... here dreams can become weapons. A dream can create or destroy a reality. That's why, from now on, we both need to be at the wheel at the same time. Your conscious mind and your subconscious power... must become one."
His copy slowly extended a hand. "I did not come to fight you. I came to help you. To control this power, you must make an accord with me. You must accept me not as an enemy, but as a partner."
Robert looked at the outstretched hand. It was his own hand. In that moment, everything clicked into place. The Academy, the Malkens, the Crimson Friends, the Bending Machine... it was all the outside world. The real journey had begun here, in this white room. He could not conquer the universe without first conquering himself.
He took a deep breath and reached out his own hand to shake the other's.
The instant their fingers touched, the white room exploded with an unimaginable light. Robert was no longer two separate beings, but a single consciousness. All the knowledge, all the memories, all the emotions from behind those thousands of doors flowed into his mind at once. But it was not like a chaotic flood. It was like entering a perfectly organized library where everything was in its proper place. He was no longer a guest in his own mind, but its master.
When the light faded, he found himself lying on the cold stone platform in the Nodron Chamber again. He opened his eyes. Kefius was standing over him, looking at him with those old, wise eyes.
Robert felt tired, but also more alive than he ever had in his life. His mind was clear. "We made an accord," he whispered.
For the first time, the shadow of a smile appeared on Kefius's face. "I know. The Nodron now sees your mind not as a stranger, but as its host."
The old instructor helped him to his feet. "You passed the test, Robert. You have mapped your mind, and most importantly, you have met your guide."
Kefius walked toward the door that led to the room with the Bending Machine. "Now," he said, opening the door. "You are ready to use Lilya's legacy."
After the absolute white void he had left behind in the Nodron Chamber and the accord he had made with his own soul, the very texture of reality felt different to Robert when he returned to the room containing the Bending Machine. It was no longer a world he merely observed from the outside; every corner, every shadow, every ray of light found an echo within his mind. The invisible Bending Sigil on his palm no longer throbbed just as a curse or a lock, but as a physical anchor to the bond he had formed with that silent partner, the 'other me' in the depths of his mind.
Under the guidance of Kefius Arateon, as he sat in the ergonomic chair opposite the screen they called "Meka," the excitement he felt was not mixed with fear, but with a sensef awe and potential, like a pianist sitting down at a grand concert piano for the first time.
The old Malken handed him the black, crown-like device they called "Fuj." "Remember," Kefius whispered. "The goal is not to create something. The goal is to build that bridge between your mind and the machine. Talk to that 'other' inside you. Tell him what you want. Don't give the Meka a command, paint it a picture."
Robert held the Fuj in both hands. Its polished surface responded to his touch with a slight warmth. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and imagined that white room in his mind, the calm copy of himself standing opposite. 'Together,' he thought. 'Just a simple shape. A sphere.'
He slowly placed the Fuj on his head. The moment the sensors on the device's inner surface touched his temples, a hum filled his mind. It was like the noise of a radio broadcasting on a thousand different frequencies. But this time, he didn't panic. Within the noise, he searched for the calm, deep hum of his own mind. His partner's voice.
'Focus,' whispered the voice within. 'Focus not on the noise, but on the silence.'
Robert, trying to clear his mind of all the static, focused on just one thing: the image of a perfect, smooth sphere. On the Meka's dark screen, for an instant, a flickering light appeared. For a few seconds, it remained a formless smudge, then slowly, it turned into a flickering circle with indistinct edges. It wasn't a perfect sphere; it was more like the ripple from a drop falling on water. But it was there. His thought had transformed into concrete light on the machine's screen.
"Enough," said Kefius's voice. "For a first attempt... promising. The bridge is weak, but it is built."
When Robert removed the Fuj, he noticed his forehead was sweating. It had only lasted a few minutes, but he felt a mental fatigue as if he had been solving the most difficult equations for hours. The rest of the lesson passed with these attunement tests. With each attempt, the shape on the screen became a little clearer. The sphere slowly began to take on a three-dimensional form, its edges becoming sharper. But every time Robert's concentration wavered for even a moment, or doubt crept in, the shape instantly distorted, reverting to a chaotic smudge of light.
When the lesson ended, Robert was physically and mentally exhausted. Kefius offered one of his rare smiles as he bid him farewell. "The mind is a muscle, Robert. Today, you have truly worked it for the first time. Now it needs to rest. But remember, it will continue to think, to dream, even while you sleep. Pay attention to your dreams. They are now your workshop."