Absolute Being: I Am Nothing-Chapter 96: Improved Magicka

Magicka

15 years had passed since the Dark Lord fell.

In the deepest chamber beneath the continent, far below any city or settlement, Dagon sat in perfect stillness. His form—borrowed from the Dark Lord’s preserved corpse—had stabilized over the decade, the dead flesh slowly transforming into something more suited to his divine nature. The features had shifted, sharpened, become less human and more... other.

He meditated.

Not in the peaceful sense that mortals understood. This was something else—a fierce, focused concentration that drew power from the very core of the world. The old bindings that had held him for five thousand years were completely gone now, dissolved by time and the chaos of the Dark Lord’s death. But his strength was still depleted. Still recovering.

So he waited.

Fifteen years of drawing energy from ley lines, from the planet’s molten heart, from the ambient magic that saturated Magicka’s atmosphere. Ten years of rebuilding what had been lost.

Soon, he would be ready.

Soon, the world would remember why gods were feared.

---

While Dagon waited, Magicka transformed.

Morgana had unified the world within five years, but the next ten saw something far more remarkable—the complete restructuring of civilization itself.

It started with Mor’vyre.

The disguised ancient being, still calling himself Moore, had spent his first years quietly observing, teaching introductory classes at the academy, building trust. But as Morgana’s rule stabilized and the world grew peaceful, he began to reveal more of his knowledge.

The arrays came first.

He designed vast networks of magical circles that drew ambient mana from the atmosphere, from the earth, from the very fabric of reality, and concentrated it into usable forms. These arrays were placed strategically across the continent—in cities, near population centers, at key geographical locations. Within months, magic that had once required years of study and immense personal power became accessible to anyone with basic training.

Mages multiplied. The academy swelled.

Morgana noticed. She summoned Moore to her chambers.

"You’re not just a village tutor," she said flatly. 𝒻𝑟𝘦𝘦𝘸ℯ𝒷𝑛𝘰𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝘤𝘰𝘮

Mor’vyre smiled. "I never claimed to be."

"And the arrays?"

"Knowledge I acquired over a very long life." He met her eyes steadily. "I’ve been many things, my lady. A soldier. A scholar. A survivor. I’ve seen civilizations rise and fall. I’ve learned from their mistakes and their triumphs."

Morgana studied him for a long moment. "Why hide it?"

"Because trust must be earned. If I had revealed everything at once, you would have been suspicious. Rightfully so." He spread his hands. "Now you know me. Now you’ve seen my work. Now you can decide if I’m an asset or a threat."

She laughed softly. "You’re definitely an asset, Moore. A frustratingly mysterious one, but an asset." She gestured at the window, where the city gleamed below. "Keep going. Show me what else you know."

He did.

The teleportation gates came next. Massive structures built at key locations across the continent, connected by complex arrays that folded space and allowed instant travel between them. What had once been month-long journeys became minutes. Trade exploded. Cultures mixed. The world shrank.

The academy outgrew its original building within three years. Then its second building. Then its third.

Mor’vyre approached Morgana with a proposal.

"We need to move it," he said. "The academy, I mean. It’s too big for Kandor. The city can’t expand further without sacrificing its character, and the academy needs room to grow."

Morgana considered this. "Where?"

"There’s an uninhabited continent to the west. Fertile, temperate, rich in natural mana. We could build there from scratch—design everything exactly as we need it."

"And leave Kandor? The city that birthed the prophecy child?"

Mor’vyre shook his head. "Kandor will always be sacred. It will always be the birthplace of our world’s salvation. But it doesn’t have to be the center of everything." He paused. "Let Kandor be the heart. Let the new academy be the mind."

Morgana was silent for a long moment. Then she nodded.

"Do it."

---

The Great Academy of Magicka rose on the western continent over the next four years.

It was unlike anything the world had ever seen. Buildings of white stone and crystal that caught the light and scattered it in rainbows. Training grounds that could simulate any environment, any challenge. Libraries that held not just books, but enchanted records that could be accessed mentally, instantly.

Mor’vyre designed it all.

The curriculum was equally revolutionary. No longer was magic divided into rigid schools—elemental, healing, divination, and so on. Students learned the underlying principles first, the fundamental truths that connected all magic. Then they specialized, but always with an understanding that the boundaries between disciplines were artificial.

Mages graduated with a holistic understanding of their power. They could adapt. Improvise. Create.

Within two years of its founding, the Great Academy was the only magical institution that mattered. Smaller schools closed or became preparatory academies, feeding their best students to the central campus. The world’s magical community centralized in a way it never had before.

Mor’vyre was promoted to Dean.

He accepted with characteristic humility, though privately he found the position amusing. He had led armies, advised emperors, witnessed the birth and death of stars. Running a school was, by comparison, almost restful.

But he took it seriously. These students would shape Magicka’s future. They deserved the best education he could provide.

---

On the tenth anniversary of the Dark Lord’s fall, Morgana stood on a balcony of the new palace she’d built—not in Kandor, but near the Great Academy. The two centers of power were connected by a permanent teleportation gate, making travel between them instantaneous.

Below her, the academy bustled with activity. Thousands of students moved between buildings, their colored robes indicating their years of study. Instructors led groups through practical exercises. Researchers tested new theories in specialized facilities.

It was everything she’d dreamed and more.

Dean Moore appeared beside her, as he often did during these quiet moments.

"The northern continent reports another successful harvest," he said. "The agricultural arrays you approved are working beyond projections. Famine is becoming a memory."

Morgana nodded. "Good. And the southern expedition?"

"Mapping complete. No hostile civilizations, just scattered tribes. They’ve agreed to send representatives to the academy next year."

"You’ve thought of everything."

Mor’vyre smiled. "Not everything. But I’ve tried."

They stood in comfortable silence, watching the sunset paint the academy in gold and orange.

"The god," Morgana said quietly. "Dagon. You still sense him?"

Mor’vyre’s expression didn’t change, but something in his eyes shifted. "Yes. He’s still there. Still waiting."

"For what?"

"I don’t know. Power, perhaps. The right moment. Something we can’t anticipate."

Morgana’s hand drifted to her pocket, where the communication stone still rested. "Should I call Merlin?"

"Not yet." Mor’vyre’s voice was gentle but firm. "When the time comes, we’ll know. And he’ll come. I’m certain of that."

"You have a lot of faith in someone you’ve never met."

"I have faith in the people who know him. That’s enough."

Morgana nodded slowly, her eyes on the horizon.

15 years of peace. 15 years of building. 15 years of waiting for a god to make his move.

The waiting, she suspected, was almost over.