Anything I type,

in this document,

will become reality.

She’d thought herself so clever, so well prepared. Only she could use it. It was only a single, specific file.

And it wasn’t, quite, technically, wishing for more wishes.

That was when she still had her freedom. When she imagined herself the only one with access to magic, that no one else in the world had supernatural abities at their command. Or, rather, when she'd believed that even if such things existed, they could have no impact on her.

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And, indeed, they had not cared. Not until she had something they wanted.

She watched the words before her eyes, felt the touch of keys in a familiar rhythm beneath her fingers, and wished with all her heart that she could take back her thoughtless wish.

But that wasn’t how it worked.

One wish. And she’d already made hers. Wasted hers.

She watched helplessly as her body wrote out another’s desires, and with a brief burst of clarity she wondered if this was how the genii felt.