Adam reached for the handle of his bedroom door. His fingers brushed the cool metal, but before he could turn it, he froze.
A strange sensation rippled through his right hand. It wasn't a muscle spasm or a twitch. It was a vibration—a low, humming frequency that seemed to resonate deep within his bones.
Adam stared at his hand, his eyes widening in shock.
I know this sensation.
He had felt this exact vibration only once before. It was the moment the blue ingredient, mixed with his father's blood, had forced its way down his throat. It was the feeling of his DNA being rewritten, the feeling of a foreign power invading his biology.
"It followed me?" Adam whispered, his voice barely audible.
The vibration grew more intense, traveling up his arm, making his skin feel hot. It was as if the substance was still alive inside him, dormant until now but waking up.
Then, just as quickly as it had started, the vibration vanished.
Total silence returned to the hallway.
Adam let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He flexed his fingers. Normal. Everything seemed normal.
"Was it a phantom pain?" he muttered, his analytical mind trying to find a logical explanation. "Nerve damage from the transfer?"
Suddenly, a splitting pain shot through his skull.
"Argh!" Adam groaned, grabbing his head with both hands. It felt like a hot iron spike was being driven into his frontal lobe. He staggered forward, leaning against his bedroom door for support.
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ride out the wave of agony.
When he opened them again, the pain began to subside, leaving a dull throb behind. But something was wrong.
Directly in front of his face, floating in mid-air, was a blue, translucent rectangle.
Adam blinked. He rubbed his eyes vigorously, thinking the stress or the headache was causing hallucinations. He looked again.
The blue window was still there. It hovered at eye level, perfectly stable. It wasn't a physical object; when he tried to wave his hand through it, his fingers passed right through the light. It was a projection directly into his optic nerves.
"A holographic interface?" Adam analyzed, his heart rate steadying as he shifted into observation mode. "No, there is no projector. This is internal."
Text began to scroll across the blue window. It looked like a computer boot-up sequence or a diagnostic log. Adam read the lines, his mind processing the information at lightning speed.
[SYSTEM LOG]
> [CRITICAL ALERT]: Previous Host Body (Subject: Adam - Earth Prime) sustained fatal damage. Vital organs destroyed.
> [Attempting Regeneration]: Failed. The Ingredient concentration was too high. Biological collapse imminent.
> [Emergency Protocol Initiated]: To preserve the Host's consciousness, the System has initiated a Soul Transfer.
Adam read the words, cold sweat forming on his brow. The "Ingredient" wasn't just a chemical. It was something far more advanced—a System. It had tried to fix his bullet wounds, but the damage was too severe.
The text continued scrolling.
> [Scanning for Vessels]: Searching for compatible biological signatures across the Multiverse...
> [Search Results]: Billions of subjects found.
> [Compatibility Check]: Failed. 99.9% of subjects rejected due to genetic mismatch with the Ingredient.
> [Match Found]: One subject located in Universe-789 (Parallel Earth). Name: Adam. Genetic Structure: 98% Match.
> [Action]: Initiating forced transfer of consciousness.
Adam stared at the glowing letters. Parallel Earth. Universe-789.
His theory was correct. He wasn't just in a future; he was in a completely different reality. The "Adam" of this world was his doppelganger, genetically similar enough to house his soul.
> [Transfer Complete].
> [WARNING]: System Energy Critical.
The blue window flickered, turning a warning shade of red before settling back to blue.
> [Status Report]: The multiverse travel consumed 99% of the System's energy reserves. The Ingredient has fused with the Host's soul to ensure survival.
> [Result]: Most System functions are currently OFFLINE due to insufficient energy.
Adam frowned. "Offline?" He felt a pang of disappointment. If this thing had the power to travel universes, it must have been an incredible tool. But now it was a dead battery.
However, the text wasn't finished.
> [Emergency Power Reroute]: Rerouting remaining backup energy to essential survival functions.
> [ACTIVATION]: Two Major Functions have been successfully unlocked.
Adam leaned closer, his eyes locked on the final two lines of the display. He expected to see something about strength or speed, but what he saw was far more complex.
> Function 1: [SAVE AUTHORITY]
Description: Allows the System to analyze and 'Save' the structural blueprint of a target's Authority into the System Database.
(Current Slot Capacity: 0/1)
> Function 2: [LOAD AUTHORITY]
Description: Allows the Host to 'Load' a saved Authority from the Database into their own body, temporarily overwriting the Host's biological state to utilize that power.
[System entering Hibernation Mode to recharge...]
The window shimmered and then vanished, leaving Adam standing alone in the quiet hallway of his new home.
He stood there for a long time, staring at the empty air, his mind working furiously.
"Save... and Load," Adam whispered, testing the words.
It wasn't a game save. It was a Library.
In this world, people were born with Authorities or unlocked them through intense training. His brother, Steven, had the Gravity Authority. His mother spoke of it as if it were a singular destiny—you get one power, and that defines your life.
But Adam?
Adam realized the terrifying implication of what he had just read.
He didn't have a specific Authority like Fire, Water, or Gravity. He had the ability to copy them. He could 'Save' an Authority he saw, store it, and 'Load' it whenever he needed it.
"I am not bound to one path," Adam murmured, a cold, calculating smile slowly forming on his face.
He looked at his hand again. The vibration was gone, but the potential was limitless. If he played his cards right, he wouldn't just be an Authority user. He would be the ultimate anomaly.
He turned the handle and walked into his room. He needed to rest, but more importantly, he needed to find a test subject.
And he knew exactly where to start.
Steven.