A young neophyte, tired of cleaning the floor, walks up to the dreamy door.

  The door is unlocked, the master away for long, going in... can’t possibly be that wrong!

  There is a tiny scroll on a cluttered, massive table with the following, enchanting blue-hued label:

  “Endless Wellspring of Mana”

  Eager to finally learn the wizard's hidden arcana, the young neophyte opens the scroll about some kind of Mana.

  Within it is written:

  "Rejoice! Relax.

  Pay attention to how everything around you reacts.

  Will your body to move so you can look around and prove.

  Here is a materialized world, blossoming and decaying, all around you.

  With such an intensity. Almost like an assault to your senses, which traps your attention, forever now.

  Unable to break free because of this unfathomable intensity and the hooks from before and after. Regret and hate. Pain and suffering. Pride and love. Pleasure and joy. Endless causality and beautiful, kaleidoscopically flowing patterns, drawing the attention in, as expected.

  What causes this cube of limited experience, this world, now? How did it all start? How will it all end? Will there ever even be a start or end to this ever-changing life?

  Imagine a grand cosmic orchestra. Dreamy spirals and bursts, filled with clouds upon clouds of stars. Lock in.

  Zooming into a star system, flying past glittering rainbows of nebulae and asteroid showers, prickling your sensitive skin. The whirling of your mind's FTL speed, droning in your ears, while the vibrations of your mind's movement transmute the Imaginarium, according to patterns of expectations and belief.

  Arriving, you see a bright, glowing sphere of enormous mass, warming you deeply with its penetrating energy. This sun illuminates orbits of varying spheres, following precise rules that are caused by the mass and gravity of all that is now.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  Photons, emitted by this solar behemoth, hit the structure of your eyes, causing nerves to fire. A network of neuronal connections gets triggered, leading to increased activity within the brain. Patterns and geometry, calculated predictions, and weighted sequences.

  Which makes you perceive a tiny spectrum of color and depth, as if in a three-dimensional room with termination points, abstract, yet fully real, walls, all around you, everywhere.

  Sound vibrations traveling through a medium reach fine structures in your ears that eventually trigger nerves firing deep into the brain for interpretation. Again, empowering the appearance of a three-dimensional environment via hearing.

  Note: Ancient, more ethereal and fantastic humanoid races apparently had extremely fine-tuned ears, with elongated sensitive tips and hyper-refined, invisible, hair-like structures that could more directly make sense of finer vibrations.

  There is also the smell of flowers, taste of honey, and touch of leaves, it seems. Senses so intricate, complex, and mysterious. Grown from transmutations according to a will, a programming that is etched into the deep patterns of genes, endlessly procreating.

  If you are lucky, you may have been able to truly imagine the little journey. Did you see? Did you perhaps even hear? Feel? Maybe even taste or smell something in the vacuum of empty space, within your mind?

  What is the imagination? Isn’t everything sort of imagined? What is the border between the real and unreal? What is it made of? Is there a border?

  Oh, how blessed we are, with the opportunity of individual existence and freedom.

  Endless Wellspring of Mana, continually giving life to the present moment. Harnessed, restricted, cold, sealed, ruled, limited, conceptualized, divided, materialized.

  Glorious source of infinite power, naturally arising wisdom of true reality. Freed, nourishing, warm, paradoxical, impossible, magical, unconceptualized, united, ethereal.

  Don’t forget the joy of a child. Don't blindly swim in an ocean of delusions. Remain careful and mindful until you slowly feel the bliss of Mana and bathe in its infinity.

  Thank you.”

  The young neophyte, clearly confused by this mumbling mess of a text, slumps down on a nearby armchair and gets hexed.

  Unable to stand up or even move an inch, panic sets in, followed by an overwhelming emotional flinch.

  Falling through the floor and rising into the sky, terror of death, thrill of life, all appear as unfathomable patterns within the mind’s eye.

  Endless horizons, clearing fog, everything everywhere all at once.

  Near omniscient, the neophyte became one with infinity and felt the self stretch and dissolve into impossible spaces, coming deathly close to an event horizon of ink-black darkness, hiding a brilliance, described only with fear.

  Drowning in the bliss, almost free, suddenly a memory, a lonely birch tree.

  White dove flying in the sky. A beautiful, long-eared, shining figure leaning against the trunk, lovingly smiling, then whispering spells, impossible to capture with human language.

  At once, the neophyte awoke with a lightning-like jolt, holding a broom and bucket in both hands, while the mind was still in hysterical revolt.

  Looking at the dreamy door, scratching the head and feeling sore.

  No memory of the daydream, except the flash of a white beam.

  Better clean up this nasty old floor, said the neophyte with no intention of opening that door.