In the elf village, nestled beneath the sprawling canopy of the mana tree, a familiar sense of impending doom filled the workshop.
At the center of the table sat the first prototype of the magic bag. It looked deceptively ordinary, a simple satchel of soft cloth, but with faint glowing runes inscribed in a circular pattern across its surface. Kyle, ever the enthusiast, dropped a rock inside. The bag trembled. Then it exploded.
"Magic Bag I: failure," Yuuna recorded, soot on her cheek and notebook in hand. "Cause: Kyle inserted a rock."
"For science!" Kyle defended, his hair standing in places it shouldn't be. "A rock is the perfect test item! Universal, dependable, symbolic!"
They made Magic Bag II. This time, it was Gigih's turn to test the enchantment process. With solemn care, he placed both hands on the bag and began channeling mana.
"Just a little," Yuuna warned, watching him through narrowed eyes.
"I know, I know," Gigih muttered. "Just enough to activate the core."
The bag pulsed. Softly at first.
"That's enough," Yuuna said.
"Maybe a little more," Gigih said, eyes narrowing in concentration.
Yuuna's pencil hovered. The bag pulsed again, brighter this time. Then brighter. Then it made a sound not unlike a burp.
"Gigih..."
"Just a teeny bit more!"
A flicker, a whine, then a pop. The bag erupted in a surprisingly theatrical burst of sparks and smoke, launching Gigih backward into a pile of unused blueprints.
Yuuna sighed. "Magic Bag II: failure. Cause: Mana overfeed."
Magic Bag III did not merely malfunction; it revolted. As if stirred by some ancient instinct for survival, the bag twitched the moment Kyle reached for the rock, that same, innocent-looking stone which had already claimed two of its kin. Runes flickered nervously along its surface. The air grew tense, like the workshop itself was holding its breath.
Then, with all the urgency of a squirrel escaping a thunder spell, the bag launched itself off the table. It hit the windowsill, bounced once, then darted outside like it had an urgent appointment elsewhere. Kyle, stunned, could only watch as the bag twirled in the air, arcing like a dancer in a final leap, and promptly exploded into a flamboyant burst of sparks and mana confetti.
"I think it was trying to flee," Kyle said solemnly, hand over his heart.
Yuuna, unfazed, scribbled: Magic Bag III: Avoids rocks. Possibly self-aware. Likely suicidal.
Magic Bag IV did not attempt escape. It stood its ground with a kind of seething indignation, the magical runes along its seams pulsing faintly as Kyle approached once again with the infamous test rock.
With a sudden jolt, the bag jerked upright and violently spat the rock back out, catching Kyle squarely on the forehead with an audible bonk. "Ow! Rude," Kyle muttered, rubbing the spot.
Before anyone could react further, the bag let out a low, ominous hiss and spun on its bottom seam like a petulant top. Then, with a dramatic puff, it burst in a plume of glittering smoke and mana sparks, right at Gigih's feet, knocking him backward with a yelp and a flurry of his cloak.
"That one was your fault," Kyle said, pointing with theatrical accusation.
Gigih groaned from the floor. "I gave it just a little mana."
Yuuna calmly wrote: Magic Bag IV: Possessive aggression. Projectile behavior confirmed. Avoid eye contact.
Magic Bags V through VIII abandoned all pretense of being bags and embraced a second career as amateur fireworks. Each one, upon being activated, paused dramatically, as if to say, "Observe me, for I am art", before leaping skyward with uncanny synchronization.
Bag V performed a single, determined spin before bursting like a startled sunflower. Bag VI twirled midair, let out a faint musical jingle, then erupted into a cascading spiral of glitter. Bag VII did a full triple pirouette, leaving behind a trail of sparkles and the unmistakable scent of singed sock. And Magic Bag VIII, clearly the diva of the group, spun upward with a shrill whistle, exploded in a perfectly timed heart-shaped flare, and rained down harmless confetti with such flair that even the clouds looked impressed.
It was less a test session and more a mid-afternoon festival. Yuuna, stoically scribbling notes, barely looked up.
"They've stopped trying to store things," she muttered. "They just want to perform."
Kyle clapped politely. "Bravo. Ten out of ten. Would explode again."
By the time Magic Bag VIII had launched, even the village's white chubby cow had wandered over to watch, its gaze fixed on the sky in awe.
"Even the cow enjoys the show," Yuuna mumbled as she jotted down, Bag seems to hate rocks. Maybe it has feelings? Study further.
Now, Magic Bag IX sat at the center of the bench. Reinforced with mana-insulated thread, covered in adaptive containment runes, and layered with a resonance stabilizer, it hummed quietly, not from instability, but purpose.
"This one won't explode," Yuuna declared. "Probably."
"That's the most confidence I've heard all day," Kyle said, reaching for the rock.
"Please don't," Gigih muttered. "We just fixed the roof."
With great ceremony, Kyle placed the rock into Magic Bag IX.
No sparks. No whines. No twitching.
The rock vanished into the depths of Magic Bag IX as if it had simply been swallowed by calm, well-behaved space. For a moment, no one moved. Not even the bag.
Kyle leaned in slightly, half-expecting the thing to explode on a delay, perhaps waiting for dramatic effect. Gigih held his breath. Yuuna narrowed her eyes, scanning the runes for any flicker of rebellion.
Still nothing. They stared in reverent, almost spiritual silence, like pilgrims who had just witnessed a miracle from a formerly explosive deity.
"It's... still alive," Kyle whispered.
"Still intact," Yuuna corrected, inspecting the mana threads. "No feedback. No leakage. Stable."
Gigih tossed in a crystal shard. Nothing. Then a spoon. A fork. A bent cog. A fish plushie.
Yuuna's quill danced. "Mana signature absorption normal. Dimensional fold integrity intact."
"We did it," Kyle said, voice trembling with fake drama. "We created the first non-suicidal storage bag."
Yuuna glanced up from her notebook, her tone matter-of-fact but laced with quiet caution. "Please don't jinx it. Let's not offend the bag. If it has feelings, which, at this point, I'm not ruling out, especially avoid giving it a rock. We've seen how that ends."
After further stress testing with increasingly bizarre items (including pudding), the bag remained whole.
Yuuna closed her notebook. "Magic Bag IX: Success. Perfect for adventure."
Kyle flopped onto the grass dramatically. "We can finally go out. Explore! Have pudding miles from home."
Gigih nodded. "We should travel. See the places we named. It sounds fun."
"No serious reason," Kyle added with a grin. "Just because it'll be fun."
Later, they approached Lucretia at the edge of the mana tree glade. She stood quietly, watching over the younger elves. When the trio presented their idea, she listened patiently.
"You want to leave?" she asked, arching a brow. "Adventure outside the elf village?"
"Yes," Kyle said. "We have the bag now. The stable one. We can handle it."
"We've trained," Gigih added. "We've tested gear. We know what we're doing."
Yuuna raised the bag, silent but certain. Lucretia's golden eyes lingered on them, warm yet hesitant.
"You're still my children," she said. "Even if you're ready."
Kyle shrugged. "Children with high-capacity, explosion-proof luggage."
A sigh escaped Lucretia's lips, followed by a laugh. "I need time to think. The forest needs me now."
She turned back to the village.
"You'll have my answer soon."
That night, the bag rested peacefully on the workshop shelf, glowing softly in the moonlight. No explosions. Only anticipation. And in Yuuna's notes: Bag is ready. So are we.
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