Mana programming, in essence, was the art of weaving magic into the fabric of reality. It involved inscribing runes, circles, and intricate patterns into an object or substance in such a way that it could channel, invoke, or store magic. The process was painstaking and exacting, requiring a blend of artistry and mathematical precision. Each rune was a command; each circle, a system. Together, they formed a kind of mana-code, a mystical equivalent of the programming that ran the tech systems of the modern world.
"The thing about mana programming," Professor Gravemore began, pacing in front of me like an agitated crow, "is that it's not as forgiving as your modern gadgets. You make a typo in mana-code, and the worst-case scenario isn't a glitchy app—it's an explosion. Or worse, you might accidentally create a sentient magical abomination that thinks it's your parent and decides to ground you for all eternity."
