Copy, Better Copy

"Copy." That single word lit the fuse. The professor's expression morphed as he struggled to understand what she said.

"Copy, you say?" he repeated, internalizing what it meant. He thought himself a genius -- one who understood the structure underlying magic. And yet, she boiled all that supposed effort down into a single word. A word that set off an explosion.

"YOU CALL MY ORIGINAL SPELL A COPY?!?!?" he yelled, voice echoing through the room, spit flying from his mouth. His face was only centimeters away, as if trying to overwhelm her with force.

"I mean, what else would it be?" Of course, she wasn't bothered by it whatsoever, instead recalling a spell from her memory. She was pretty sure that it spawned from one of her own.

It was about ten or so years ago. Her boss had requested an improvement to the fireball spell -- a rather strange request for something so simple. And its use? For classroom instruction, emphasizing safety to an obsessive degree. It seemed like an easy job at first, but it quickly turned into an eleventh hour rush, trying to combine hundred upon hundreds of layers seamlessly. The formula even overtook her dreams, burning up the jumping sheep.

In the end, she just barely managed to complete it: a small flame the size of a marble, releasing enough heat to act as a hand warmer. If it began to spread or grew too hot, it would immediately disperse into mana. The final result was a boon to her as well, keeping her body nice and toasty during the winter months, like a portable kotatsu.

The spell within the textbook was quite similar, though much less efficient. Its safety features were still in place, but the heat in question was a bit too cold for comfort, yet a bit too hot to use at any other time. Though, you would really only notice if there was a wind chill blowing through, which was why she considered it to be a 'good copy'.

Wordlessly, the professor laid down the textbook, putting up his index finger. Without chanting, a small fireball appeared slightly above, much like how it was written. But then, it began to grow -- slowly at first, but gradually speeding up until it reached the size of a giant exercise ball. There were a few instabilities: sparks would occasionally appear along the rim, and there was a lot of excess mana. However, it was well constructed, something she hadn't expected, raising his evaluation slightly in her mind.

"This is the culmination of my research," he began, as though giving a lecture. "Even while increasing the size, I've managed to preserve all of the other features that allow the fireball spell to be used. With this, large-scale spells may once again be on the horizon." The students stared with rapt attention, marveling at the 'progress' present. "Now, what do you say to that?" he spoke condescendingly.

"It's quite impressive," she agreed, though this time she didn't say any more. It was the norm for other people to take credit for AI-generated spells, so there was no need to clarify.

"W-well then, I'm glad you noticed," the professor slightly stammered at the unexpected praise. "This is what you'll be learning in my class, along with how to apply these concepts to other spells. So I expect you to pay--"

"Like this, you mean?" With a snap of her fingers, the fireball almost seemed to teleport to her fingers. At a glance, it looked like nothing had changed. However, the previous instabilities had disappeared: no more sparks, no more excessive mana usage, and the perfect cozy temperature.

"H-how..." the professor struggled to speak, only just noticing that his spell had been overwritten. An impossibility according to AI. But for her...

"I just rewrote the formula," she answered as though it were obvious. "See, if you change this part, you can easily replace the active spell with your own. Meanwhile, this variable is the one that controls the size, which I fixed a few logic bugs in. As for this part..." she continued, explaining its entire intricacies. The students furiously began to take notes, writing down each and every word she said.

As for the professor, he fell to his knees a paragraph ago.

"...and that's how the spell works. See?"

"..."

"Huh? Did you not understand? I can explain it again, if you'd like."

"...independent study." With those final two words, he passed out on the ground.

Hmm... I think he got it, though I don't understand why they all do that.

Well, whatever, now I can--

"Um excuse me. Is Ms. Charlotte Igita here?" a student called from the door leading to the hallway. She hadn't even noticed her entering because of her long-winded explanation.

"Yes?" she responded, a bad feeling starting to creep in. After all, she had only decided on her name today, yet a student she didn't know was using it. And, as if she were psychic...

"Mr. Gisou Kamiya is here to see you."

Her premonition came true.