The road to Crystalshire continued without incident.
That alone made it unsettling.
The mountain path narrowed steadily as the carriage climbed higher into the peaks. Jagged cliffs rose like broken teeth on one side while the other dropped away into depths so vast clouds drifted beneath the road itself.
Even Bunny eventually stopped leaning near the windows.
"…Nope," she muttered while scooting backward. "I officially hate heights now."
The Draft Behemoths disagreed.
The enormous creatures continued forward with steady confidence, massive hooves finding perfect footing along paths that should have terrified any normal animal.
They never hesitated.
Never slipped.
Never even slowed.
Barb's explanation echoed in Jax's thoughts.
Tamed beasts don't fear heights. They're bred for terrain like this.
Inside the dimensional carriage, however, the danger felt strangely distant.
Almost unreal.
Jax sat quietly on one of the couches while the Vixens relaxed nearby, his elbows resting on his knees as thoughts spiraled endlessly.
What happens if the carriage goes over the edge?
Would the impact transfer into the dimensional space?
Would the portal collapse?
Would they be expelled?
Or trapped?
If the device broke while they were inside…
Would the dimension seal itself?
Would they slowly starve trapped inside a pocket reality?
Could another dimensional device access the same space?
Was every storage dimension unique?
Or merely keyed?
Jax exhaled slowly.
Normal adventurers probably didn't spend travel time questioning the structural integrity of reality itself.
Then again—
Jax wasn't remotely normal anymore.
Crystalshire, according to everything he'd learned, was the closest thing this world had to magical engineering.
If answers existed—
they would exist there.
Hours later, the road finally descended into a wide valley nestled between two massive crystal-veined mountain ranges.
And Crystalshire revealed itself.
Jax immediately sat forward.
"…Oh."
The city was poor.
That much was obvious immediately.
Buildings were patched together from mismatched stone and reinforced metal braces. Many looked half-repaired or permanently under construction.
But woven through that poverty—
was brilliance.
Crystal conduits stretched across rooftops.
Mana pumps rotated beside farms.
Runic power lines glowed faintly beneath the streets.
Workshops hummed with magical resonance.
Crystalshire did not merely use magic.
It engineered it.
Jax felt at home instantly.
"This place is weird," Bunny whispered.
Jax smiled faintly.
"No," he said quietly.
"This place is trying."
After checking in briefly at the Adventurer's Guild, gathering directions, and politely declining three different escort offers—
they finally received the name they needed.
Eldrich.
Scientist.
Inventor.
Dimensional theorist.
And according to the guild receptionist—
"Please try not to encourage him."
That felt concerning.
They found Eldrich's workshop near the inner industrial district.
The door stood open.
Inside—
chaos.
Pure chaos.
Tables overflowed with papers, crystal fragments, mana cores, half-built devices, and tools Jax couldn't even identify. Chalkboards covered the walls with equations, diagrams, and spatial calculations written in increasingly unhinged handwriting.
One wall held massive project labels written in bold letters.
PROJECT L.U.M.I.A.
PROJECT PEGASUS
PROJECT CUTTER FISH
PROJECT PERSONALITY UPGRADE SO PEOPLE STOP FINDING ME WEIRD
Jax blinked slowly.
"…That one seems ambitious."
A man nearly collided with him immediately.
"Move—don't touch that—it's oscillating—wait—why are there so many people in my doorway?"
The speaker looked barely older than his mid-twenties.
Wild hair.
Ink-stained hands.
Dark circles beneath brilliant eyes.
He clutched a mug labeled:
TRIPLE ESPRESSO
"Who are you?" the man demanded while already turning away. "If you're here about the noise complaint, file it through the Guild. Unless you're here about dimensional instability—in which case that was only technically my fault."
"Jax," Jax answered calmly. "This is my team."
The man paused.
Then nodded rapidly.
"Fine. Eldrich. Don't touch anything."
He pointed vaguely toward three separate objects.
"Especially those."
One of them sparked ominously.
Jax smiled slightly.
"You designed dimensional storage devices."
"Yes."
"You manufacture them."
"In my spare time."
"And sell them."
"They fund my actual research."
That tracked immediately.
Jax skipped the small talk.
"Hypothetically," he began, "what happens if someone is inside a dimensional storage space when the device breaks?"
Eldrich stopped moving.
Slowly turned.
His eyes lit up instantly.
"Oh."
He took a long sip from his mug.
"Excellent question."
The Vixens exchanged nervous looks.
"Three likely outcomes," Eldrich continued casually. "Eighty-three percent chance the dimensional structure collapses safely and ejects all contained matter into physical reality."
Jax relaxed slightly.
"Five percent chance of catastrophic spatial collapse resulting in immediate death."
Jax immediately un-relaxed.
"And twelve percent chance the dimension stabilizes without an exit point."
"…Meaning?"
"Meaning you slowly starve inside a pocket reality."
Silence.
Jax stared at him.
"So seventeen percent death."
"Yes."
"That's horrifying."
Eldrich blinked.
"Actually eighty-three percent survival is statistically quite favorable."
"Would YOU like to test that theory?"
"And risk the seventeen percent? Absolutely not."
"…You don't hear yourself when you speak, do you?"
Eldrich ignored him completely.
"Hm. I still need better testing methods…"
Then he turned toward the Vixens.
"Would any of you volunteer?"
"No," Jax answered instantly.
Eldrich looked disappointed.
Jax suddenly had a deeply uncomfortable thought.
"…What exactly have you been testing this on before now?"
Eldrich opened his mouth.
Paused.
"…Mostly unpaid volunteers."
The entire room went silent.
Jax stared.
"Have you considered," he said carefully, "using something non-intelligent? Lab rodents maybe?"
Eldrich froze.
Then his eyes widened.
"…That's significantly more ethical."
The chill that ran down Jax's spine was immediate.
He decided not to ask follow-up questions.
Instead, he pressed onward.
"What if two devices shared the same dimensional frequency?"
Eldrich stopped completely.
"…Go on."
"Two doors," Jax explained. "Same space. If one device fails, the second remains as an exit."
Eldrich's mug slipped from his fingers and shattered on the floor.
He sprinted toward a glowing crystal console.
"Yes—yes, synchronized anchors—harmonic stabilization arrays—mana resonance balancing—"
Jax stepped closer immediately, thoughts accelerating alongside Eldrich's.
"If the frequencies are synchronized simultaneously, both gateways should remain linked."
"Yes!"
Eldrich's hands flew across scattered notes.
"You could overlay both entrances—"
"Creating redundancy," Jax finished.
Eldrich looked genuinely excited now.
Then Jax had another thought.
"…What if the doors weren't together?"
Eldrich stopped writing.
"What?"
"What if one gateway remained here," Jax continued slowly, "and another existed somewhere else entirely?"
Silence.
The Vixens blinked.
Eldrich turned slowly.
"…That's not storage."
Jax nodded.
"That's teleportation."
The room went dead quiet.
Then Eldrich completely broke.
He began tearing through papers, muttering equations while rapidly scribbling calculations across nearby chalkboards.
"Spatial folding… stabilized anchor points… mana relay synchronization…"
Llandra watched him carefully.
"…You broke him."
"Completely," Zee agreed softly.
Jax looked around the workshop.
Then smiled faintly.
"Who manufactures your devices?"
"I do," Eldrich answered distractedly. "Mostly. Sometimes I hire assistants. They usually quit."
"Then here's my proposal."
That got Eldrich's attention instantly.
Jax laid everything out simply.
He would buy Eldrich's schematics.
Mass produce dimensional devices.
Provide funding and infrastructure.
In exchange—
Eldrich would receive permanent percentages from every sale alongside unlimited research funding.
No interference.
Minimal oversight.
Only one condition.
"No experiments involving intelligent life."
Eldrich nodded immediately.
"That seems reasonable."
The Vixens stared.
Llandra blinked twice.
"That proposal is life-changing."
Eldrich shrugged.
"Good. Then I can stop worrying about funding and continue revolutionizing magical science."
Contracts were drafted.
Signed surprisingly quickly.
Hands were shaken.
And when Jax finally left the workshop—
he carried far more than answers.
He carried the beginning of an empire.
And deep within Crystalshire—
the future quietly took its first breath.