-Robert Fayn-

It has been twenty-five years since the Aligning, since one universe became many with countless worlds connected in a giant lattice network of Breakwaters, World Bridges, Babels, and Hidden Cities. Twenty-five years since the Five Powers and other four fields of magic, oldmark, magecraft, true magic, and system cast, became public knowledge across the metaverse: filling the worlds with thousands upon thousands forms of magic. The knowledge of magic and multiple worlds just became another thing that existed in the background of everyday life. That’s because there is one glaring problem with magic: it wasn’t easy to learn or use, even simple spells could be difficult to most, causing most people to not truly bother with it until their late 20s and early 30s unless they choose an intrinsically magical career like mage or delver. 

With so many forms of magic, each with their shared and unique hurdles, the process of becoming an accomplished mage, or a pinnacle of mages, and creating a specialized style of spellcraft was not a simple task. It didn’t help that the rich and powerful monopolized most of the high quality magical goods across the metaverse. Or that there were now places in the metaverse in the forms of dungeon-like distortions, such as the blackzones that act as adversaries of mankind and are constantly trying to expand.

And if left to their own accords, all blackzones would expand beyond their birth points and cover their entire host world. So it is the duty of the military, delvers, and even the powerful spellmen to trim the blackzones, making it so that mankind can safely exploit the manalogical bounties found within. And it is the duty of the blackzones to resist and act as mankind’s adversaries; that duty is thrust upon their masters, the blackzone managers, forcing them to decide what it means to be an adversary of mankind. The existence of blackzone managers is one of peril and excitement that only a small portion of people seek to obtain, but for others, they aren’t so lucky in having a say in the matter...

So one moment I was getting ready for the day, the next second I was tripping over something in my cluttered flat, and now I was floating in this inky void. Did I die? Didn’t feel like I died. I mean if I was dead, wouldn’t I be in some sort of limbo or something? You know, waiting to return to a circle of reincarnation and what not.

“Hello? Anyone there?” I called out as I tried to maneuver myself within this void. I could barely make out the outlines of my limbs as I flopped around through nothing. Wasn’t surprising that there wasn't any reply to my question, let alone sound. “Ugh! And I just wanted to eat that new cheesecake at Sherry’s Blackzone Pastries!”

“Enigma birthing protocol has been initiated. Analyzing emphasized keyword ‘cheesecake.’ Connecting to appropriate Veiled Country hub,” suddenly ranged out a monotone unisex voice.

“Wait what!?!?”

“Congratulations Robert Fayn, you have become a blackzone manager of a newly formed Enigma on Earth Summer-6.”

“Blackzone manager? Enigma!? Are you serious?”

“100%, I am currently incapable of joking or lying. Now please wait as you are connected to the Flasaporium hub.”

“Great so, what, am I a witch? No wait… I’m a guy, so aren’t I a warlock.”

“Incorrect, despite your English lexicon slating witch as a female title, in manalogical terms the word ‘witch’ is unisex. And you do not have high enough black colour attunement to be considered a competent warlock.”

“Well that’s good to know. So am I going to be stuck in this void forever?” I asked, trying to twist around. Couldn’t tell if I actually did it because there was no sense of feeling or direction in here.

“No. Please wait as the connection is secured.” Sighing, I waited and waited and waited. Until finally! Light started to crack and web through the inky darkness. Felt a bit harsh on my eyes but at this point who cares, it was light! 

After what felt like a small eternity, the light ate through all of the void and deposited me in a... suburban neighborhood? “Standby for terraforming protocol. Confirming connection to Flasaporium hub. Connection confirmed. Enigma designated as dessert-themed. Accessing blackzone manager’s root psyche for baseline structuring.”

“Wait? Dessert-themed? Are you seri- Ahh!” I tried to ask the voice before feeling a searing pain in the back of my head. The ground started to shake violently as… skyscrapers started to emerge from the earth. Not only that but giant bakery stands, larger-than-life museum exhibits of food and art, and winding metro train tracks. Why does this feel all so familiar? I thought to myself as I tried to bear through the pain and quakes. It felt like my head was being spilled out onto the street.

“Terraforming completed. No damage to Protean Shell. Analyzing Enigma. Birth point is approximately sixteen square kilometers. Thematic and psychic reflection fully manifested.”

“Jesus christ! What the hell was that?! What did you do to me? It felt like my head was going to explode!”

“I merely extracted your root psyche to terraform your Enigma per protocol. Preliminary reports show that psychic reflection is predominantly made of your metropolitan habitat, love for baked goods, disdain for trains, and previous occupation as a museum educator.”

“Great… That’s just great… Did you have to include my hate of trains?” I asked, grimacing as a wobbly-looking metro train screeched by overhead. From the looks of it, there was a skyscraper every other block or so, at least one bakery stand and museums exhibit that easily dwarfs the suburban houses on every block, and metro trail tracks crisscrossing all over at every elevation with no real rhythm or rhyme.

“Absolutely, it is a crucial part of the protocols. Would you like for a second psychic scanning to find a suitable replacement?”

“God no! Let’s not rip my head apart twice in one day. Okay?” The voice didn’t bother to reply, couldn’t tell if that was a good or bad thing. Still trying to grasp this whole situation, I started to walk around to see what everything looked like. From what I could tell it was just a normal low-tier Enigma, but then again I wasn’t an expert on blackzones of any sort. Never was that amazing with any of the five fields of magic: Could barely say I was good with the Five Powers, was pretty bad with magecraft and system casting, and definitely shit at true magic and oldmarking. All I really had to go off of was the random documentaries and late night readings I enjoyed.

Didn’t take too long to realize I could actually moon walk around like an astronaut, which honestly probably didn’t help with grasping the situation at all because it just made everything feel dream-like. You are not dreaming Robert, you are an honest to god blackzone manager… I think… I mentally told myself as I neared the hard boundary of the Enigma… my Enigma. Yeah I still wasn’t totally grasping the situation, but at least I wasn’t totally overwhelmed and having a mental breakdown.

Is this what I think it is? I mused, feeling the eggshell-like boundary covered in a petrol-sheen of mana. I could be filthy rich with this! If I wasn’t a blackzone manager…

“You are correct. The substance before you is Protean Shell. Estimated time to barrier collapse is twelve days real time, approximately twenty four relative time once you factor into the time dilations causing for days to be thirty-six hours long. And you are also correct in the fact that Protean Shell is a highly lucrative ingredient due to its mana retention and both protective and transmutative properties and the fact that few blackzones produce it post birth.”

“Wait what do you mean three and a half weeks until collapse?” Yeah, it felt weird that this voice could read my mind, but now didn’t feel like the time to complain.

“In approximately one and half weeks real time, three and half weeks relative time, the Protean Shell barrier will lose cohesion and collapse. At that time there will be nothing protecting you and your Enigma from the forces of the metaverse. And depending on how you prepare, the surrounding civilization may slate you for complete eradication and removal.”

“Eradication...”

“Yes, eradication. Simply put: annihilation, execution, extinguishing of your life force. And depending on the severity of the matter, they will not wait for another blackzone manager to be assigned or birthed and proceed to completely destroy this Enigma, birth point and all.”

“Oh god! You didn’t have to put it into so many words!” I shouted, starting to actually panic and lose my grip. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”

“Become a proper adversary to mankind. Create fortifications, monsters, incentives, and repercussions. You must grow your Enigma into a blackzone that is too profitable or pyrrhic to remove.” 

“Okay… okay… okay… Where do I start?” 

“You start by going to your Enigma’s ground zero and assuming proper control.”

“And where is this ground zero? Where I first appeared?”

“No. The ground zero is the most distorted point at the center of your Enigma’s birth point. Its form should be the most prominent structure at this point in time.”

“So the giant skyscraper that looks like someone combined a wedding cake with a cheesecake and took a few slices out of it?” I ask, pointing at the painfully odd building that was obviously at the middle of everything. Almost couldn’t believe I didn’t notice it earlier.

“That is correct. At ground zero your capabilities as a blackzone manager will be at their strongest due to proximity with your Enigma’s first core as you have no experience in this.” Not wanting to waste any time, I started to moon-bound over to it. Probably could have used one of the metro trains to speed up the process, but I currently had zero clue on any of the routes. You’d think a blackzone manager would know the inside of their blackzone like the back of their hand, but the world definitely isn’t fair that way.

My Enigma’s so-called ground zero was definitely the tallest building around; the other skyscrapers were probably 20 to 30 floors tall from what I could eyeball out, but this thing was easily more than 60 floors tall and took up the entire small neighbourhood block. And the inside was really freaking surreal; it looked like some mad architect blended a normal skyscraper with a fancy cake. Literally, in some places. Although I guess in this case… wouldn’t that mad architect technically be me?

“Okay I’m here now voice-person,” I called out, before pausing. “Actually, what the hell am I supposed to call you?”

“I currently have no name, but you may call me System Assistant in the interim. And now that you are at ground zero, you must go to the top floor and physically touch the first core so that your Enigma’s parent Veiled Country hub can generate an appropriate name for your Enigma.”

“Any elevators I can take? Escalators, even?”

“Analysis of ground zero report no mechanically-assisted means of transportation such as ‘elevators’ or ‘escalators.’”

“Well fuck,” I muttered to myself before finding a set of stairs and heading up. Even with my apparent ability to moon-hop around, the stairs were still hell. Freaking 70 floors worth of stairs! Although, if there wasn’t a giant barrier covering the entire sky, it probably would have been a pretty good, albeit weird, view.

Catching my breath, I stopped looking out what looked like a sugar glass window and made my way into the 70th floor’s one giant room. I was sort of expecting a penthouse, which I sort of got, if you considered an open-space loft that was combined with both a ballroom and a throne room to still be a penthouse. It was pretty obvious that the man-sized lemon chiffon octahedron was my Enigma’s first core.

“So I just… touch it?” I asked the System Assistant.

“Correct. In doing so you will forge a more formal connection to your Enigma and your Enigma will in return form a more formal connection to the hub. This will grant your Enigma a proper name and allow you to assume your duties as a blackzone manager in full.” 

“Okay then, here goes nothing.” With a little bit more hesitation than I wanted to admit, I walked up to the floating crystal and touched it. And just like that I felt mandalas, hidden away in their little extra-dimensional space that was hooked up to my entire being, explode into action and start to channel more mana than I thought was possible for them. I felt my mana circuitry forge paths into the first core and the Enigma itself as I felt a vague understanding of my entire Enigma form in my head, along with some vaguer understanding of something beyond.

“Congratulations, we bestow the name Historie Pastoria Sweets to your Enigma,” whispered a femine voice that felt sort of like System Assistant into my ear. Shivers, both good and bad, coursed down my spine as the voice faded as quickly as it appeared.

“Confirmed, Enigma’s name has been recorded as Historie Pastoria Sweets,” noted System Assistant, instantly ruining the strange sense of euphoria I was feeling.

“Yeah… yeah it is…” I replied, mulling over the name of my Enigma. Kind of a bummer that I couldn’t name it for myself, but then again I still was slightly shocked about all of this. At least it was a good name, kind of sounded like a fancy pastry shop you might find in the museum district. But as much as I wanted to sit down in this weird penthouse-like place and relax while taking everything in: I had three and half weeks, well more like five weeks if you accounted for the longer days, to make this entire Enigma ready for its opening to the world. “System Assistant… now what?”

“Now you make monsters.”