Jesse hung up the call, her heart weighed down by an inexplicable sense of loss. Eli’s actions had left her feeling deeply unsettled, not just by their mean-spirited nature but by how out of character they seemed for him. The prank he had pulled wasn’t just a casual joke. It had cut her deeply, even if she hadn’t let it show. She had kept up the facade of indifference, acting as though none of it had phased her, but the truth was harder to swallow. It had hurt, far more than she was willing to admit, even in the privacy of her own thoughts.
She’d thought she’d outgrown this. This longing. The part of her that still yearned for magic to be real. That same, naive piece of her heart that wanted, more than anything in the world, to believe that the impossible could be true. She had been tricked into that hope for an entire day, allowing herself to believe in something extraordinary. And then Eli had ripped it away.
At first, she hadn’t believed his claims. They were absurd, after all. But the “experiments” he conducted to convince her had been surprisingly thorough, breaking down her resistance bit by bit. He’d asked her to go into another room, and from there, he’d correctly identified what she was doing and even how she was posing. She remembered how his explanation of having limited "resolution" had seemed oddly plausible at the time. His so-called “gift” had felt just believable enough for her to drop her guard. But of course, it had all been a lie. A trick. A carefully orchestrated ploy involving hidden cameras wired throughout his house. When she’d asked him to guess how many fingers she was holding up in her pocket, he couldn’t do it, his excuse being some nonsense about his "ability" not being precise enough. That should have been her red flag.
At the time, she’d been genuinely impressed by his ability to “read” her actions with his eyes closed. That was the first trick he’d done. It had seemed impossible, miraculous even. It turned out to be luck, along with contingency plans he’d had in case his guesses had failed. That kind of planning and forethought only made the betrayal sting more. How long had he been cooking up this scheme? And to pull it off right after his accident, when she’d spent the previous day caring for him? The gall was astounding. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became.
Eli had always been the dependable one. Reliable. Kind. Never someone who would hurt her. Yet here he was, exploiting her deepest childhood dreams for a cheap laugh. The story he’d told about the old man had been an obvious setup in hindsight, priming her to look for a supernatural explanation. He’d pretended to see this mysterious figure multiple times, reinforcing the illusion. Jesse, gullible and eager, had fallen for it. She’d never seen the old man herself, but when Eli finally pulled out a dull knife and spun a dramatic tale about someone being “after his life,” her suspicions had begun to rise. Pressing him for answers had ultimately forced him to reveal the prank.
When Eli finally admitted, with an infuriating smirk, that it was just a prank, her world had seemed to tilt. She’d been devastated. Keeping her smile intact had been a Herculean effort, and she had seized on the excuse of “work to catch up on” to make her escape. Even now, the memory stung.
A burr of doubt gnawed at her mind even now. This wasn’t like him. Eli wasn’t the kind of person to do something so hurtful, especially knowing how much magic meant to her. He had to have known the pain this prank would cause. Why had he called just now trying to continue the ruse? Had he planned this specifically for when she got her project? That would explain the timing. The burr eased as she rationalised his actions. He was recovering from a bad accident, after all. Maybe she could forgive him. But not before giving him a piece of her mind.
Jesse had always been enchanted by the idea of magic. From as far back as she could remember, it had fascinated her. As a child, she’d spent hours daydreaming about flying through the skies, becoming invisible, or casting powerful spells. She’d even turned her obsession into a science fair project, trying to imagine a world where portals could be harnessed as a renewable energy source.
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Over time, her love for magic hadn’t faded—it had simply evolved. Instead of yearning for the unattainable, she channeled her enthusiasm into more practical outlets. She adored time-travel movies, with *Groundhog Day* being her all-time favorite. The idea of infinite retries to perfect something was irresistible to her. She also indulged in writing fanfiction, reimagining beloved magical universes and posting satirical analyses online about how societies might function with certain types of magic. It wasn’t just an escape; it was a way to connect with like-minded dreamers.
In many ways, her love of magic had influenced her career path. Computer science, to her, was the closest thing to magic that existed in the real world. She’d once heard someone describe programming as “tricking a piece of rock into thinking by trapping lightning in it,” and the phrase had stuck with her. Beyond the poetic description, the ability to command a machine to perform complex tasks was intoxicating. Programming felt like wielding a superpower—a way to automate tedious chores and create solutions out of thin air.
She had started writing simple scripts in high school, automating tasks she found boring or repetitive. Her curiosity grew into a passion when she began tinkering with jailbreaking her phone, joining online communities of hackers and enthusiasts. Most of the “hacks” she encountered were nothing more than patched-together scripts for trivial tricks, but they opened up a world of possibilities. It was like discovering a treasure trove.
When it came time to choose a college major, computer science was an obvious choice. Her love for magic was rekindled in an unexpected way during her first year at university when her dormmates introduced her to Dungeons & Dragons. Playing a lore bard in their campaigns reignited her imagination, particularly the bard’s ability to charm and manipulate minds. This inspired her senior thesis—a brain-computer interface (BCI) that could literally read her mind.
Her prototype converted subvocalized thoughts into text, which she then linked to physical actions. For her demo, she made a light bulb switch on and off just by staring at it. The project earned her not only accolades but also a coveted research internship at Promethean Ventures, a leader in BCI innovation. The company even helped her patent the technology.
From there, the project—dubbed Aeon, after the goddess of knowledge in D&D—evolved at a breakneck pace. What had started as a simple mind-reading device quickly surpassed all expectations. Early versions relied on subvocalized input and EEG sensors, but soon the team found ways to decode neural signals with astonishing accuracy. Images and videos were no longer just imagined; they could be projected into the brain. A pair of simple smart glasses handled the visual output at first, but as the technology progressed, even that became unnecessary.
Jesse gazed at the latest version of Aeon’s device: a sleek, unassuming pair of earbuds. They bore little resemblance to their clunky ancestors. When she slipped them in, a holographic image of Aeon, their mascot, appeared before her, floating serenely above her dining table. Hey, Aeon, she thought.
“Hello, Jesse,” Aeon responded, its voice warm and familiar.
I want to continue my dance lessons, she instructed silently. Invisible hands enveloped her, guiding her movements with precision. It wasn’t control, not exactly—it was more like a gentle correction, nudging her into perfect form. She glided across the floor in a simple yet elegant ballroom routine, each step imprinting itself into her muscle memory.
Originally, Aeon had been designed with extensive autonomy, capable of independent actions. But after the team discovered that the device could control the wearer’s movements, a storm of ethical debates ensued. Security protocols were tightened, cutting off the device from the internet and limiting its capabilities. Only Jesse and her boss had access to fully functional versions of Aeon. They were tasked with testing its potential while safeguarding against misuse.
As her routine ended, Jesse bowed theatrically, treating the dance session as her exercise for the day. With a satisfied sigh, she sat down at her desk to begin work.
The project was finally moving into beta. She had been given the incredible honor of leading her own team, a milestone she still struggled to wrap her head around. It had been just her and her boss working on Aeon throughout its alpha phase, and now she had an entire team to guide. Excitement bubbled in her chest as she opened PowerPoint to start on the team’s welcome deck.
Even in a world brimming with AI breakthroughs, some things never changed. PowerPoint, it seemed, was eternal.