Ever Adapting Domination

"Brother…" Dr. Trevor murmured, his voice thick with menace as his eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. A venomous smile slowly crept across his face, amplifying his already chilling expression.

"So, you've come for your revenge, have you? Still clinging to that bitterness over your mother, eh?" His laughter, dark and mocking, filled the air like a sinister fog, suffocating any trace of warmth.

His malevolent gaze then shifted to his grand creation. The smirk on his face widened into a grotesque, toothy grin that stretched unnervingly across his features.

"How did I know it would be you—the persistent thorn in my side?" he mused aloud, his tone laced with twisted amusement. He pulled a tablet from his desk drawer and began typing furiously. With a decisive thwack against the screen, three mechanical arms extended from the wall, scanning the boy with ruthless precision.

As data streamed across the screen, a satisfied nod confirmed his findings. He rummaged through the drawer once more, retrieving a small chip and slotting it into the tablet. A confirming beep sounded as the data transferred onto the chip.

Dr. Trevor then inserted the chip into a DNA encoding injector—a tool meticulously designed to prime a subject's body for the Serum's acceptance. Theoretically, it could also implant raw data directly into the subject's DNA. After all, a single gram of DNA could hold an astonishing 215 petabytes of information.

He prepared the injector with the required nanobots, allowing the chip to upload all necessary data for DNA encoding. The entire operation took less than two minutes.

Approaching the unconscious boy, Sam, Dr. Trevor injected the device into the small of his back. Stepping back, he watched as the nanobots began their intricate work.

Next, he moved to his personal computer, pressing a series of buttons that initiated a protocol to erase all data from every system within the facility. Clutching the chip, tablet, and DNA encoder, he summoned the Sensitive Item Disposer (SID). A hatch beside his chair slid open, and with a flick of his wrist, he discarded his now-disconnected personal computer into the abyss.

The SID wouldn't just incinerate the items—it would crush and melt them, ensuring their complete destruction.

Taking a brief moment to breathe, Dr. Trevor allowed himself a rare moment of calm. There was nowhere left to run—not that he felt any fear. He had anticipated this moment, planned for it.

Extracting one of his many burner phones, he dialed the only number saved. After a couple of rings, a woman's voice answered, chipper and polite.

"Hello, good day, thank you for calling A-Trap! How may we assist you?"

"User ID 'Lionheart's Den' has been compromised. No personnel can be trusted. Directive: Destroy Facility. When and where? Here and now. Deploy all reserved agents. Cost is no object; the world government will compensate," he commanded with cold, clinical precision.

"Acknowledged, Dr. Trevor. Have a good day," the voice replied, almost eerily cheerful.

As the call ended with a beep, Dr. Trevor activated the incinerator, tossing in the phone after removing its battery. Holding the battery in his hand, he stood silently for a moment—a solitary figure amidst the darkness of his sanctuary, prepared to face whatever consequences lay ahead.

He then inserted the battery into a power adapter, which he connected to a sleek laser weapon retrieved from a hidden compartment beneath the drawer.

With determined strides, Dr. Trevor quickly arrived next to his "masterpiece." Rolling Sam to his side, he effortlessly hoisted the boy over his shoulder in a fireman's carry.

He walked toward a specific spot on the wall, tapping it in a precise pattern while whispering a passphrase: "Take your time and bring me lime, salt and lime, salt and lime."

As the last word left his lips, the wall began to unravel, revealing a hidden elevator. He stepped inside and pressed the only button on the control panel. The doors slid shut, and the elevator ascended rapidly, rising to a hidden room on the top floor.

In less than ten seconds, the elevator covered a hundred floors. Normally, the sheer force of acceleration would have crushed a human, but not a single jolt was felt as the doors opened, revealing the scene within.

A vast, futuristic laboratory stretched out before them, brimming with advanced equipment, sensors, and raw materials. At the center of the room, a massive machine was bolted to the floor, its circular form adorned with an array of cables and complex mechanisms.

Dr. Trevor moved through the lab with practiced familiarity, his enthusiasm barely contained as he began flipping switches and pressing buttons. A low hum filled the room, signaling the machine's activation.

"Well, I hope this works," Dr. Trevor muttered under his breath, then promptly shook his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "Who am I kidding? This is definitely going to work."

He pressed "yes" on several prompts warning him that activating the machine could cause massive damage to the very fabric of reality. Undeterred, he confirmed the activation, inputting his credentials, passcode, and a sample of his blood, along with his heartbeat and pheromones. These sensors worked in tandem to ensure it was truly Dr. Trevor initiating the procedure.

Finally, he pressed the last confirm button. Immediately, the lights in the building went out, along with all electricity in a 98-thousand-square-mile radius, redirected towards the machine at the room's center. Even the reactors in the basement were being used—each capable of powering Earth for 300,000 years. And he had six at his disposal. This was the norm for military facilities and cities, each typically equipped with at least three, yet he had six. The extent of the world government's support for his research was staggering.

As the machine roared to life, the room began to vibrate, the sound intensifying until it became a deafening hum. Dr. Trevor watched intently, his eyes reflecting the pulsating blue light that emanated from the machine's core. The walls seemed to shimmer, reality itself bending under the immense energy being channeled through the device. The air grew thick, almost palpable, as if the very molecules were being torn apart and reassembled by an unseen force. Despite the chaos surrounding him, Dr. Trevor stood unwavering, a single figure of calm amidst the storm of his own creation. His heart beat steadily in his chest, completely in sync with the machine, as if they were two parts of a single organism.

Suddenly, a violent crack split the air—a sound like the tearing of fabric, but magnified a thousandfold. The space within the room warped, twisting into a vortex of swirling colors and light.

Dr. Trevor felt a gravitational pull, a force beyond anything in the natural world, tugging at the very essence of his being. For a moment, he allowed himself a small, satisfied smile, his mind racing with the possibilities of what lay beyond.

This was the culmination of his work, the apex of his genius—a doorway to realms unknown, where the laws of physics were but a suggestion, and the boundaries of time and space were mere playthings. Without hesitation, he embraced the pull, letting it consume him and the boy entirely.

In the blink of an eye, the laboratory vanished, replaced by an overwhelming sense of stillness. As the vortex dissipated, Dr. Trevor found himself standing on solid ground, though it took him a moment to fully grasp the transformation. The harsh artificial light of the lab had given way to a soft, golden glow, filtering through the dense canopy of ancient trees that stretched toward the sky. Taking our his laser weapon, Dr. Trevor began to observe his surroundings.

The air was thick with the scent of earth and foliage, a stark contrast to the sterile, metallic tang of his former surroundings. The ground beneath his feet was soft, covered in a blanket of moss that muffled every step.

Around him, the forest buzzed with life—the distant call of birds, the rustle of leaves in a breeze that felt foreign and alive in ways he couldn't yet comprehend.

Dr. Trevor surveyed the scene with a mixture of awe and clinical detachment, his mind already calculating the implications of this new environment. The forest, though eerily beautiful, was nothing more than a variable in his equation, a new set of parameters to be analyzed and understood.

He adjusted the grip on the unconscious boy still slung over his shoulder, his eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of civilization—or, more likely, danger. His smirk returned, sharper this time, as the thrill of the unknown washed over him. This was uncharted territory, a realm that defied everything he had known, yet he remained confident in his ability to master it.

After all, this world, like any other, would eventually yield its secrets to his relentless pursuit of knowledge. Dr. Trevor whispered to himself, "Welcome to the new frontier," and began to walk forward, each step a testament to his unyielding resolve and ambition.