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Stepping out of the commercial tower high above the Xinyi District, Thera bowed her head slightly, fingertips pressing against her temples. The absurd turn of events inside Eric’s office moments earlier still felt unreal, even to her.
A black Maybach with diplomatic plates—black lettering on yellow—sat waiting at the curb. As the rear right door swung open automatically, Thera ducked inside without hesitation. The car merged into traffic, mounted the highway, and sped south.
This Maybach was custom-modified. The rear compartment was fully isolated, fitted with positive-pressure environmental controls and NBC filtration. It could also run in reverse isolation, keeping any internal virus from escaping into the outside world.
Unbothered by such measures, Thera simply turned her head toward the window. Bright city lights faded into dark mountain foliage rushing past. As the car headed onto the Hengchun Peninsula, the open coastline stretched out before her. For six straight hours the cabin stayed dead silent, save for the faint hum of the engine. Only at dusk, after rounding a final sharp bend on a remote road and passing several heavily guarded checkpoints, did the vehicle roll into the restricted Jiupeng Military Base.
It pulled up in front of a building marked “AARO-TFO”—the Pentagon’s All-domain Anomaly Resolution Office, Taiwan Field Office.
Thera stared out the window, a sudden tightness in her chest.
The door opened. Two operatives in heavy biohazard suits stood waiting. On the open lot nearby, two heavy NBC decontamination trucks and a medical vehicle flashed cold warning lights in the twilight.
Thera stepped out, her feet heavy as she walked into the temporary high-grade decontamination station. Hot water mixed with strong chemical disinfectants poured over her, scrubbing every inch of skin. After multiple rounds of decontamination and a change into cleanroom clothes, she stepped onto a full-body scanner. Only when the green laser beams swept over her—confirming zero anomalies—did the heavy metal gate unlock with a sharp click, letting her into the core sector of AARO-TFO.
All wastewater from her wash was sealed, collected, and sent straight to specialized teams for analysis. They needed to determine whether she had brought back an unknown biochemical substance—or if there was any risk of a transmissible biological infection.
Commander Lawrence Cole stood outside the reinforced glass, hands clasped behind his back, lost in thought. He hit the comms button, his voice carrying directly into the sealed chamber:
“The medical tech team is currently testing whether you pose a biological infection risk. Before those results come back, I have a few questions for you.”
His gaze locked on her eyes. “Thera, do you remember… that your contact lenses record live video?”
Behind her back, Thera’s hands moved slightly, her fingers twitching involuntarily. Her face flushed red, ears burning hot. Shy and uneasy, she looked away, breaking eye contact with the commander.
“I don’t want to watch the tape. Now, tell me in your own words—what happened in there?”
＊ ＊ ＊
Eric’s body had started breaking down without warning. First came an unrelenting high fever that stayed above 39.5°C, with fever reducers doing nothing. With it came severe, grinding pain in his muscles and bones.
Bypassing standard emergency rooms, Eric checked straight into a VIP suite at National Taiwan University Hospital’s Jingfu Clinic for a week-long battery of top-tier health checks.
The results left the entire medical team utterly bewildered.
The first anomaly appeared in his blood and bone marrow: trace amounts of high-energy particle radiation from an unidentified radioactive element. Even more mind-boggling was the deep Next-Generation Sequencing (NGS).
Inside Eric’s genome, the core Homeobox gene sequences—responsible for controlling embryonic body axes and organ placement—had been fundamentally rewritten. Forcibly inserted between original human base pairs were massive amounts of unknown plant vascular genes, alongside sequence fragments from an unidentified species. At the genetic level, Eric was being assimilated into an entirely different ecosystem.
The day the results came in, the hospital director visited in person. He dismissed every nurse and assistant, locking the door behind him. The renowned physician looked at Eric not with pity, but with deep wariness and dread.
“Mr. Eric,” he said, placing a thick stack of top-secret reports on the bed, voice barely above a whisper. “If these findings were made public, they would rewrite the foundations of human biology. Foreign genetic code is forcing its way into your cells. This isn’t a natural mutation or disease. What… what have you been exposed to recently?”
Gazing at the genetic maps that looked like twisted vines, Eric’s mind worked fast. Years in the corporate world had taught him he couldn’t afford to tell the truth. Exhausted and in pain, he kept his composure.
“Director, you’re overthinking it,” Eric said, looking him straight in the eye. “It’s probably just some rare new autoimmune disorder or an undiscovered virus. I’m just a normal businessman. Where would I even have gone?”
Eric chose to hide the impossible encounters he had lived through. No one would believe him anyway.
The director let out a heavy sigh, told Eric to rest, and left the room.
Silence settled over the ward, but Eric’s mind kept racing. Every single clue pointed back to the same origin: the alternate world.
Even with drugs and IV drips, the burning heat of the fever refused to break. His body was spent, pushed to its absolute limit. Trembling, Eric reached for the phone on the nightstand, unlocked it, found a number he hadn’t dialed in a long time, and hit call.
Ring… Ring…
The line picked up after two rings. A calm, refined voice came through, smooth but with a faint touch of surprise:
“Good evening, Mr. Eric.”
Eric leaned back against the cold bed, looking out at the Taipei night:
“Alex… tell your president.”
He took a deep breath, helpless, every word heavy on his tongue:
“Make the arrangements… I need to go to the alternate world. I need to know what’s happening to me.”
＊ ＊ ＊
On the other side of the hospital, the director returned to his office and dialed a hotline.
“Hello,” Commander Lawrence Cole picked up.
“Lawrence, my worst fear happened…” the director said, anxious.
“Don’t panic, Director. I’ve already guessed most of it. A few days ago I sent a five-man team up to Taipei, but we haven’t been able to track down Eric’s location. Right now, you must stall him. Do not let him leave.”
“I’ll do my best, Lawrence. But I must stress this: according to our medical system, this is already the fifth case of this strange infection. If a mass outbreak happens, the fallout will be unthinkable! We’re counting on you.”
A black van glided into the underground parking garage of National Taiwan University Hospital, its heavily tinted windows concealing the interior. Two figures stepped out of the back, heading straight for the 15th floor of the Jingfu Building.
The door clicked open. “Eric?” one of them asked softly.
＊ ＊ ＊
At three in the morning, a low-frequency hum blanketed the city. Deep underground, seismic shockwaves rolled for five continuous seconds, sending stray dogs in the streets into wild howls.
5…
4…
3…
2…
1…
Snap! Power across the entire city went out in a single second.
A tall, imposing man stepped slowly across the dimensional rift.
To be continued…