Elias smiled. This wasn't just transportation; it was a . He tilted the frame 45 degrees toward the floor. Through the glass, the floor wasn't wood—it was the sky, ten thousand feet up. He didn't fall. Instead, he reached through and "grabbed" a passing cloud. As he pulled the cloud back through the frame, it condensed into a glowing, pressurized canister of pure oxygen. Then came the Breach.
The frame began to vibrate, its edges glowing a violent violet. Elias had pushed the too far. He saw himself standing on the other side, but his "other" was holding the frame from the opposite end. They were playing a tug-of-war with the fabric of existence. Frame Portals on Steroids
With a final, desperate shove, Elias flipped the frame flat against the ground. The loop closed. The room snapped back to its original dimensions with a thunderous crack , leaving nothing behind but a perfectly square hole in the floor that led, infinitely, into itself. Elias smiled
He looked through the frame at a solid brick wall. He grabbed the corner of the frame and pushed . The bricks within the rectangle didn't break; they compressed, turning into a liquid slurry that flowed out of the way. He reached in, grabbed a handful of "liquid stone," and pulled it out into his world. It instantly hardened into a perfect, gravity-defying sphere. "Frame locked," the AI chirped. Through the glass, the floor wasn't wood—it was
Every time he pulled, the room grew smaller. The ceiling dipped. The walls bruised. He realized the terrifying truth of the "Steroid" effect: the frame wasn't moving him to a new place—it was .
The air in the Testing Chamber smelled of ozone and shattered physics. Elias stood before the , a rectangular frame that looked like a standard doorway until he flipped the toggle.
He stepped back, breathing hard. He hadn't just opened a door; he’d rewritten the map.