7 hours ago
Danika was rooted in place, her eyes fixed on the space between the rings. Her channeling still flickered at her fingertips, a soft ultraviolet hue pulsing in time with something deeper than thought. The air shimmered in a way her instruments couldn’t quite register, but she felt it in the quiet vibrations running through the field they had created together.
Her breath caught. Between the rings, the space was so still.
She tilted her head, eyes narrowing as she tried to tune her perception, to see not just with her eyes, but with that part of her mind that could sense the quantum layering of fields and forces. Something was folding there, just beneath the visible. Not a tunnel. Not a hole. More like a tension point. A boundary layer forming between localized quantum states. She imagined entangled particles trembling just at the edge of disassociation. Like two wave functions trying to resolve themselves into a bridge, but lacking just enough structure to collapse.
“Something is definitely there,” she murmured, half to herself. “It’s decoherence. A temporary shared state. Unstable but real.”
She adjusted her stance, coaxing more of the light into the weave. The rings pulsed again, steadier now. For a moment it felt close to balance. She was afraid that even moving too much might knock it apart, like breathing too hard on a tower of cards.
Then Allan handed her one of the rings. Her eyes lifted to him, confused at first then her hand closed gently around the metal, letting the connection hold. And it did. For a few breathless seconds, the field hummed in perfect tension. It reminded her of a mosquito walking on water.
She stared at the space between the rings as he stepped backward, watching the quantum noise gather, shimmer, and stabilize in its own strange way. Then, with a faint crackle, the shimmer faltered. The air hiccupped. The field wobbled once, twice, and popped out of existence with a soft snap. Danika let out a breath, not quite frustration, not quite disappointment. “So close,” she whispered, her mind already spinning through possibilities.
She turned the ring over in her fingers. The interference patterns were fading, but her thoughts were catching fire. “We need a way to reinforce the entangled boundary... Maybe a paired resonance field? Or modulate the lattice dynamically based on position?”
She looked up, eyes unfocused, still buried in theory. “If we could stabilize the superposition state between the rings—”
Allan spoke out loud.
“Wonder if it’s a size thing.”
Danika gasped. “Of course. Of course. The field is collapsing because the structure is too small to contain the necessary energy distribution. It's trying to localize the quantum state in a volume that can't maintain coherence. I’ve been assuming tighter meant more stable, but if it’s too tight, the entangled space can’t stretch into a usable bridge.”
She turned to her console, pulling up a new simulation, hands already flying. “If we scale up the anchoring rings, increase the spatial boundary of the resonance field...” She trailed off, eyes shining. “That's genius.”
Before she could stop herself, Danika turned back and threw her arms around him. Not awkwardly. Not cautiously. Just a quick, impulsive hug full of momentum and caffeine and revelation. She pulled back just as fast, already halfway turned toward the projection table.
“We’ve gotta build a bigger one,” she declared with a huge smile.
Her breath caught. Between the rings, the space was so still.
She tilted her head, eyes narrowing as she tried to tune her perception, to see not just with her eyes, but with that part of her mind that could sense the quantum layering of fields and forces. Something was folding there, just beneath the visible. Not a tunnel. Not a hole. More like a tension point. A boundary layer forming between localized quantum states. She imagined entangled particles trembling just at the edge of disassociation. Like two wave functions trying to resolve themselves into a bridge, but lacking just enough structure to collapse.
“Something is definitely there,” she murmured, half to herself. “It’s decoherence. A temporary shared state. Unstable but real.”
She adjusted her stance, coaxing more of the light into the weave. The rings pulsed again, steadier now. For a moment it felt close to balance. She was afraid that even moving too much might knock it apart, like breathing too hard on a tower of cards.
Then Allan handed her one of the rings. Her eyes lifted to him, confused at first then her hand closed gently around the metal, letting the connection hold. And it did. For a few breathless seconds, the field hummed in perfect tension. It reminded her of a mosquito walking on water.
She stared at the space between the rings as he stepped backward, watching the quantum noise gather, shimmer, and stabilize in its own strange way. Then, with a faint crackle, the shimmer faltered. The air hiccupped. The field wobbled once, twice, and popped out of existence with a soft snap. Danika let out a breath, not quite frustration, not quite disappointment. “So close,” she whispered, her mind already spinning through possibilities.
She turned the ring over in her fingers. The interference patterns were fading, but her thoughts were catching fire. “We need a way to reinforce the entangled boundary... Maybe a paired resonance field? Or modulate the lattice dynamically based on position?”
She looked up, eyes unfocused, still buried in theory. “If we could stabilize the superposition state between the rings—”
Allan spoke out loud.
“Wonder if it’s a size thing.”
Danika gasped. “Of course. Of course. The field is collapsing because the structure is too small to contain the necessary energy distribution. It's trying to localize the quantum state in a volume that can't maintain coherence. I’ve been assuming tighter meant more stable, but if it’s too tight, the entangled space can’t stretch into a usable bridge.”
She turned to her console, pulling up a new simulation, hands already flying. “If we scale up the anchoring rings, increase the spatial boundary of the resonance field...” She trailed off, eyes shining. “That's genius.”
Before she could stop herself, Danika turned back and threw her arms around him. Not awkwardly. Not cautiously. Just a quick, impulsive hug full of momentum and caffeine and revelation. She pulled back just as fast, already halfway turned toward the projection table.
“We’ve gotta build a bigger one,” she declared with a huge smile.
"Magic is just science we don't understand."