Transmutation, the act of transforming matter from one state to another, often used in the context of alchemy, whereby one element, usually a less valuable metal like lead, is converted into a precious one like gold. Indeed, the idea, or perhaps the desire, to control nature as such, fueled by greed, has been a persistent thread throughout human history. As far back as antiquity, to the times of the ancient Egyptians and Greeks in the west and the Chinese and Indians to the east, people have sought the magical ability of transmutation. And for as long as humans have tried, they have failed, to the extent that alchemy in modern times is synonymous with a fool’s errand. The biggest irony of all? With the advent of modern technology, with the development of particle accelerators, it actually has become possible to turn lead into gold. After all, lead (Pb) is simply gold (Au) but with three extra protons and neutrons. Blast a sheet of lead with a stream of highly energized particles, coming out of an accelerator, and it becomes trivial to knock a few subatomic particles loose, thereby completing the long sought after alchemy.

Lead to gold. Q.E.D.

Of course, it might cost you several quadrillion dollars to convert a few milligrams, not even enough to produce a single gold coin, but perhaps that is also why Earth has not been flooded by synthetic gold quite just yet.

On the fantasy planet of Arcadia that Franklin finds himself on, transmutations are also possible. There are no particle accelerators, however. Just a System. And as Franklin calls upon his own, he further navigates to the transmutation submenu, using the command, “[Transmute].” Instantly, the following options come into view, hovering in the air before his eyes:

1. Decompose

2. Exchange

3. Materialize

4. Show Reservoir

The manual had provided a general synopsis of what each of the functions did. They are as follows:

Decompose allows him to, as the name suggests, decompose anything he touches, breaking down and absorbing the material by its elemental components.

Exchange allows him to convert one element in his reservoir, that is, a previously absorbed element, into a different element.

Materialize allows him to spawn any particular element in his reservoir back into the physical world.

Show Reservoir allows him to view the current elements he has stored and available for transmutation.

“So in theory,” Franklin says, reasoning aloud, “The way to transmute one physical material into another is to first Decompose it before performing an Exchange to a different substance and then finally Materialize it back into the physical world. Seems simple enough...”

Of course, he also knows full well how things simple in theory rarely are in practice, and given that the manual had been rather skimpy on the finer details, it’s likely he’ll have to do quite a bit of legwork himself, testing to see what the limits of the system are. Not that he minded a bit of system min-maxing, generating spreadsheets and parsing bad documentation.

… Actually, that’s precisely what he used to do at work…

… And he loved every second of it.

Franklin smiles to himself. By now, his eyes have adjusted to the darkness, the cave ever so slightly lit by an invisible yet ambient light source, and he squats down, placing one knee on the cavern floor. He runs a finger across the soft, grainy rock below. Though its color is difficult to determine in the poor lighting, it appears a brighter shade, likely indicating a white stone of some kind. He recalls the two types of caves most common on Earth- primary and solutional- reciting their descriptions from memory:

Primary caves are formed due to volcanic activity, when outflow of magma from rocks leaves a hollow tube behind. This sort of cave is composed of igneous rock, which is typically dark in color and very hard to the touch.

Solutional caves, on the other hand, form when water dissolves away rocks and minerals, leaving a hole in its place. These kinds of caves stem from areas of soft material, like limestone, which are prone to dissolution by water.

Given that his surroundings are white and soft, he concludes that it is likely a solutional cave, limestone perhaps, and if that’s the case, then decomposing the limestone should provide him with three elements- calcium (Ca), oxygen (O) and carbon (C)- in a ratio in accordance with the compound’s chemical formula, CaCO3.

“Only one way to find out, I guess,” he says aloud to no one in particular.

Franklin places his entire palm flat against the ground, though he’s not sure if there’s a particular grip he is supposed to use; the manual had stated that he only need touch the target of his command. Having done so then, he calls out, “[Decompose].”

There is a brief pause, as if the system is thinking, before a message appears:

Error 310. Please try again.

Franklin fails to suppress a snort, as a smirk forces its way onto his face, and he can’t help but feel amused at the response for two reasons. First, it is amusing because it suggests that there are at least 310 unique errors that can occur, and usually when a system is that riddled with errors, it points to massive spaghetti code behind the scenes. Second, the error is fucking useless (that’s the technical term for it), and for a moment, he wonders if the entire system is actually just a Windows executable, written in Flash or something. The thought quickly passes with another laugh, and he returns to the matter at hand.

Fortunately, the manual had contained a list of all the error codes and a short description for each. Of course, when he had first read it, it didn’t make a lick of sense to him. But now he understood its purpose.

“Error 310,” he mumbles to himself, recalling the page, “Invalid area. Too large to decompose.”

Ah, I see, he thinks to himself.

The problem, he realizes, is that when he uses the Decompose command, all matter of the same composition connected to the point of touch will attempt to be decomposed, similar to using the Magic Wand tool to select all the similar colored pixels in an image. Given the homogenous nature of the cave, it is likely that the system was trying to decompose the entire structure, naturally giving rise to an “invalid area” error. The solution, then of course, is to simply find a smaller chunk to try it on instead.

Franklin stands back up, scouring his surroundings for any loose limestone. He finds a piece, about the size of his hand, and he bangs it against the wall, freeing a small chip. The chip is approximately 1/8 cubic inches in size, or about 2 cubic centimeters.

How does he know so precisely? He is able to perfectly recall the image of a ruler to overlay on the rock in his hand. And by his calculations, with the density of limestone being around 2g / cm3, this means there is approximately four grams of limestone available, about the weight of four paper clips.

“Well, here goes nothing. [Decompose].”

This time, rather than a long delay, a message appears almost instantaneously, reading:

Decompose 4 grams of Limestone. This action will consume 4 AP.

Option 1) This will yield

0.8 grams of Calcium

0.24 grams of Carbon

0.96 grams of Oxygen

Option 2) This will yield

489.52 O-Points

Please select an option to proceed.

Not sure what O-Points are, Franklin decides to go with Option 1 for the moment, saving the test of the latter for after he’s confirmed the basics.

“[Option 1].”

To his pleasant surprise, after he utters the command, the limestone chip in his hand immediately vanishes. Excited, he calls up the system again, going to Show Reservoir this time. A smile crosses his face when he sees the display populate:

Material

Quantity (Grams)

O-Points

0

Calcium (Ca, 40)

0.8

Carbon (C, 12)

0.24

Oxygen (O, 16)

0.96

“Nice. Now, let’s try an Exchange, shall we?”