Mike cupped his hands, scooping the cold water from the faucet before splashing it against his face.

Droplets trickled down his cheeks as he straightened, his gaze lifting to meet his own reflection in the mirror.

The bright light above accentuated the sharp angles of his cheekbones and the depth of his brown eyes, which held a flicker of otherworldly intelligence for a short time.

His hair, usually meticulously styled, lay in damp disarray from the water he'd splashed on his face, strands clinging to his forehead.

With a shake of his head, he cleared his mind. Looking at himself, it was almost like his persona was breaking for a moment.

After a long breadth, Mike turned away from the mirror.

After a short little check, he was back to his meticulous shape. Healthy fair skin, well-defined jaws, athletic build, visible even beneath the casual cut of his shirt.

Countless hours in the gym and a little care to create his perfect self.

As he stepped back into the warmth, the pulsating beats of the music wrapped around him like a familiar embrace. The room was alive, thrumming with energy and success, everyone enjoying the after party.

Navigating through clusters of colleagues, Mike encountered the inebriated first. Bodies swayed with a precarious lack of coordination.

"Mike, my man!" slurred Jeff as he stumbled forward, the content of his glass sloshing dangerously close to the brim.

Before Mike could escape, an arm found its way around his shoulders, pulling him close in a gesture of camaraderie that nearly ended in a shared bath of expensive liquor.

"Isn't this amazing? We're on top of the world!" The drunk exclaimed loudly with an uproarious laugh.

He gently extricated himself from Jeff's grip, offering a smile. "Definitely, Jeff. Just try not to fly off it tonight,"

The comment earned him a hearty laugh as Jeff let out a loud guffaw, oblivious to the concerned glances they attracted. "I'll try, but I'm not making any promises!"

Taking a chance, Mike moved to the sides and spotted their serious manager, Elena, standing apart from the crowd. Her expression was a mix of pride and careful analysis, as if calculating the ROI on every laugh and dance move.

Approaching her, Mike ventured, "Elena, you've got to admit, this is quite the milestone for us."

Of course, the woman was one of those sticklers, but he didn't mind flattering her.

She turned her scrutinizing gaze on him. "Indeed, Mike. A milestone," she agreed, her tone measured. "But as much as we celebrate tonight, tomorrow, we strategize for the next hundred million. Success doesn't sleep."

Before he could respond, a burst of laughter from the dance floor caught her attention, and for a split second, a smile threatened to break through her professional facade. "Though, I suppose a little celebration doesn't hurt."

Maybe not so strict tonight.

Next, he was swept towards the dance floor by the wave of the dancing craze.

Young recruits, interns, some just out of college, moved with a freedom and joy that was infectious. Lara, one of the newest team members, grabbed his hand. "Come on, Mike! You can't let us have all the fun!"

He laughed, allowing himself to be pulled into the rhythm for a moment before insisting, "I'm afraid I might just bring down the party's average dance skill level."

"Nonsense!" Lara shouted over the music, twirling under his expertly held arm. "It's all about the spirit!"

After a few more dances, he extracted himself. "I'll catch up with you guys in a bit," he said, his voice barely rising above the music.

As he approached the bar, the bartender greeted him with a knowing smile, sliding a glass of wine across the polished surface before he even asked.

It was the third major deal this year, and the third party was in the same hotel.

"Celebrating hard tonight, huh?" the bartender remarked, his tone light, eyes scanning the crowd with an amused glint.

He took a sip, the crisp flavor of the wine offering a brief respite. "You could say that," Mike replied, his gaze drifting away from the bar and towards the open roof setup of the penthouse.

The city skyline stretched before him, a myriad of lights against the dark canvas of the night. "But sometimes, it feels like we're just celebrating numbers, you know? Just printing money."

The bartender nodded, his expression turning reflective. "I guess at the end of the day, it's about what those numbers mean to you, isn't it?"

Meaning. The word struck a chord in Mike, prying open a part of his soul. A chuckle escaped him, the sound more bitter than he intended. "And what if they mean nothing? What is this all means nothing?"

The bartender's face shifted, a mix of concern and confusion knitting his brows.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Deciding it was time to retreat, Mike offered a slight, reassuring smile. "Ignore it, Just thinking out loud," he murmured, easing off the bar stool.

With a glass in hand, he stepped out into the open, the cool night air brushing against his skin. The party's noise faded into a distant hum, leaving him with his thoughts and the sprawling city below.

The skyline, usually a symbol of ambition and progress, now seemed to mock him with its indifferent grandeur.

In this moment of solitude, surrounded by the evidence of their success, he couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness.

How many skylines have I seen? Much higher than these?

He sipped his wine again, its flavor now lost on him. The city continued to shine, indifferent to the existential crisis of one corporate employee, in this sea of lights and shadows.

As he stood there, lost in contemplation, a voice from behind startled him out of his reverie.

"Lost in the lights, or just lost in thought?" A woman's melodious voice, pulling him out of his stupor.

He turned back towards the party, but stopped short.

Standing a foot beside him was a woman he had never seen before.

How had she slipped by unnoticed? Too close without me even knowing…

His slight drunkenness evaporated slightly as he took in every detail as she watched the city.

Smooth, fair skin with a soft glow in the muted light. Dark and shiny hair falling over her shoulders. The fabric of her dress was dark, maybe navy blue or black, and it made her skin look more prominent.

"I was just... taking a moment," he found himself saying, his usual eloquence escaping him.

"A moment," she repeated, a smile playing on her red lips. "And what did you find in your moment, Mike?"

Surprise flickered across Mike's face at the mention of his name, the charm breaking. "I'm sorry, have we met...?"

"Not until now," she assured as she turned to him, her eyes locking with his. "But I've heard of you. The man of the hour, one who bagged the million-dollar deal."

"And you are?" he asked, ignoring the flattering.

"Someone who offers an adventure for those daring enough to seek it…" she replied seductively, her gaze not wavering, but her hand brushed against his.

"An adventure?" His eyebrows raised, his mind tumbling at the unexpected word. "In what form does this adventure come?"

She leaned toward him, her proximity became more pronounced. There was an undeniable seductiveness in her movements, a calculated grace that seemed to draw the eye and stir the mind.

"Indeed," she murmured, her voice a soft caress against the backdrop of the party's din. "A quest for those bold enough to delve beyond the mundane. To sip the true essence. Do you consider yourself bold, Mike?"

Her touch lingered. Yet, it was the shimmer of excitement in her eyes, the promise of untold mysteries, that truly captivated him.

"Depends on what tressure would I find in this quest?"

"Treasure?" She tilted her head slightly, a lock of hair cascading over her shoulder. "Why ruin the surprise? You'll see soon enough. Don't you love the thrill of adventure?"

"So, will you step into the unknown with me?" she asked. "Will you chase the horizon of discovery?"

There was a moment of hesitation, a breath suspended in time. "Sure,"

Her smile held a flicker of victory, and in that instant, the world seemed to shift on its axis.

A sharp pain, sudden and overwhelming, pierced his chest.

Looking down, Mike's eyes opened wide in disbelief, the golden handle of a dagger, a stark, unbelievable contrast to the fabric of his shirt and the spreading blood.

The terrace, the party, the very ground beneath his feet began to fade. The pain was there but distant, a sensation belonging to another existence.

A shove was all he felt. And the impact sent him over the edge.

Can't believe I fly off from the top…

Wind roared in his face, his stomach churned as the cityscape rapidly ascended above him.

Killed by a crazy woman.

There was no more time to think anything else, as the ground approached quickly, bringing with it the foul lurch of death—and right when he closed his eyes to embrace the inevitable, the world shook, and he found himself frozen in place.

A frown spread across his face.

A voice echoed across his ears, the same as the woman's, "Hope we meet again, little Adamson…"

Then, new words started to appear in his mind.

Integration of Human ( ID: ADAMxEVE001 ) has begun.

Please await further instructions as the assessment is completed.

Welcome to the Multiverse.

Error XX843923. Protocol 98x8324 Initiated.

Peripheral World Selected. System Powerdown. Memory Erasure Started…

The world erupted in blinding light.

—

Mike gradually regained consciousness, his mind foggy and confused.

Without even opening his eyes, he knew that something had gone wrong. His body was still the same size, and he could feel the weight of his limbs, the stiffness of the dried blood on his clothes, and the hardness ground underneath him.

All he could remember was falling to the ground with a knife in his chest.

Which didn’t make sense. At this moment, he’d typically be experiencing his own rebirth, coming out of the womb as a newborn.

That's how it has been for countless millennia…

So either he survived his fall, which shouldn't be possible. Or he broke into another timeline without properly reincarnating, something which had never happened before.

Mike opened his eyes, instantly regretting it as the sun stabbed through and blinded him.

After repeated blinking, the blindspot cleared from his eyes, and he took stock of his situation. He was lying on the hard ground, facing the blue sky. It was late in the night when he was killed, but it looked to be afternoon now.

Instead of seeing the white plastered roof of a hospital or even the skyline of a bustling city. He saw the top of the trees in his periphery.

His hand was still over his chest, but just moving it took a tremendous amount of strength. He felt his chest, but there was no wound, only dried blood, though he was still weak.

There was also no sign of the dagger. And there were odd sounds of birds and insect that he had not heard for a very long time.

After some trying, he scrambled up and surveyed the surroundings, his body still aching from whatever had happened to him before.

What the actual fuck? The words slipped as he skimmed his immediate surroundings. A stone road in the woods, with cleared area between the road and the forest.

The clearing was quiet, with few rocks, flowers, and stout leafy trees at the end, hugging the space tightly with dense shrubbery.

Ok, what the hell is going on? The adrenaline of the unexpected situation woke him up far faster than any shower could manage.

A bestial roar snapped him out of his thoughts, nothing like he had ever heard, startling him that he lost his footing and meet the hard ground again.