Year 2089, March 13th

  "Dammit!" A figure cursed inside a small cabin of a spherical spacecraft—its hull scorched from a recent skirmish—hurtling through space. A dozen sleek shuttles trailed it like a pack of metallic hounds. Both sides unleashed a barrage of attacks, leaving behind a myriad of colors.

  After a few minutes of cat and mouse, the damage on the smaller vessel started to pile up. Inside, a projection in the front flared crimson, indicating the imminent collapse. The pilot's knuckles were white on the controls.

  "That’s it then! They want this, right?!” Gritting her teeth she reached out to a stone levitating inside a glass-like cylindrical container.

  “Too bad, if I can’t have it, then no one will." She broke the container, touched the ordinary stone inside, and then slammed the other fist down on a single, cerulean-blue spot.

  Suddenly, the space started to warp around the vessel, spiraling into the center, it vanished without a trace.

  …

  A round figure streaked through the sky as an old man watched his #937 creation

  "The expected success rate is only 1.657%..."

  The experiment had been processing for days and now it was finally time to check the results.

  Beep. He pressed the final command sequence on his tablet.

  Buzz. Buzz.

  Whirr...

  A compartment hissed open. He extracted the material from the reaction chamber and examined it under harsh fluorescent light.

  "Ah, crap! Another day, another failure." He let his maid-cum-assistant record the various observations and moved onto the next experiment.

  …

  Year 2089, December 23rd

  Hah. He leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. “What now? No results. No breakthroughs. Not even a clear direction.”

  He put his leg onto a small bed-like table beside him. Without giving any command, the young maid came forward and started massaging his feet while he sank into his own thoughts.

  ‘Should I proceed with that? No, no way am I going to do that. What’s the point of achieving longevity if I am not myself.’

  His fingers tapped on the table once, twice—then paused.

  ‘My approach is flawed. I should have picked biology first. It’s just never enough, is it?’

  "Nana," he addressed his AI assistant aloud. The massaging maiden looked at him with bright eyes. Bright eyes as in literally glowing eyes, since she was an android made by him. "Did you obtain the classified documents on that meteorite that fell earlier this year?"

  She responded immediately. If one didn’t know, they would never realize that she was not a human.

  "Yes, approximately forty-seven percent of the data has been acquired. There appears to be a significant segment of experimental observations missing from all digital archives. Logs suggest they were documented physically and transported via clandestine routes. It’ll take additional time to analyze security footage and cross-reference personnel manifests to ascertain their location."

  "No need. Just summarize and tell me all the necessary information. Look specifically for anything that could help my research."

  He wore his glasses and a holographic display materialized before him, while she continued.

  "Classified Report GH-648563:

  On March 13th, 2089, a meteorite was discovered by Team 6 of the Third Division. A total of 75 distinct candidate materials were recovered from within the meteorite."

  'Hmm... isn't that the same day I performed experiment #937?' he thought as Nana continued.

  "The material calculated to be the closest to our research is Candidate Material #34 (CM34).”

  She then continued reading the official report. “Candidate Material #34 (CM-34): Unknown classification

  Discovered as a perfectly spherical, intact core within the meteorite. Exhibits volatile, paradoxical chemical properties.

  Nine researchers deceased from proximity exposure. Fifteen additional fatalities via secondary effects.

  Material demonstrates null atomic structure; all interactions violate baseline physical and chemical axioms.

  Project terminated due to unsustainable mortality rate and resource expenditure (estimated 1.2 million tonnes precision machinery rendered inert).

  Current containment: Vercrow Facility, submerged in high-velocity H?O flow within tellurium-alloy vessel. In this configuration, CM34 becomes inert—behaving as Class-IV radioactive element.”

  “Theoretical modeling suggests CM34 may provide 'inspirational substrate' for continued research."

  “It took them that long just to figure out that water and tellurium will be able to store it?”

  A slow grin spread across the old man's face. He stood up from his chair and let out a hearty laugh.

  "Hahaha! They had such a fascinating object and didn't even inform me? Looks like I'll need to get it myself."

  Nana also stood up hurriedly “I—

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  “No.” Just as she was about to speak, he interjected. “I’ll do it myself.”

  …

  Year 2089, December 25th

  Laughter echoed through the gilded halls of the Presidential Gala.

  "—truly visionary, Mr. President! Your administration's—"

  "Thank you, Marcel." Veron glanced at his wrist-watch. "Goodness, is that the time? Please, excuse me, I must take my leave."

  "Of course, of course! Let me escort you—"

  "No thanks, Marcel." Veron's smile was a scalpel. "Enjoy the festivities."

  Inside a luxurious car, the man named Veron exhaled sharply.

  ‘Fucking bootlickers. Can’t even stay put on Christmas Eve.’

  The vehicle pierced the snow-covered streets. Through the polarized windows, Veron watched the city's bioluminescent advertisements bleed into watercolor smears. The night colored with the warm lights of Christmas were surprisingly pleasant to look at.

  The car accelerated smoothly, reaching high speed. After about half an hour, it arrived at his estate.

  The vehicle deposited him at the presidential spire. Guards in powered exoskeletons patrolled the perimeter. They were all enhanced humans but WPS-rated 5.0 at best. Pathetic.

  His maids, silent as ghosts, helped him out of his formal attire. The bathwater was precisely 41.5°C, treated with his latest regimen of pharmaceuticals. Yet no medicine could soothe the ache of senescence. WPS 7.0 was his ceiling; he had hit a bottleneck in his progress.

  Maids assisted him in changing after his bath, and he made his way directly to his bedroom for a well-deserved rest.

  Creeeeaaaak.

  He pushed open the door.

  'When did this door start creaking? Did the workers miss it during maintenance?'

  'Ah... haha. I'm a fool. I told them not to enter my bedroom without permission. How would they know if they never came in? They really do follow orders well. I think I should give them another bonus at New Year's.'

  He pushed the door open fully.

  And froze.

  Every ounce of warmth drained from his body. His eyes widened, pupils dilating with sheer, undiluted terror. Shock, horror, primal fear—each emotion was starkly visible on his face.

  A man was sitting on his rosewood desk.

  White lab coat and simple black pants. White hair slicked back, framing a face that should have belonged to someone decades younger.

  The man was eating fruit from Veron's fruit bowl, staring into the air, probably watching something through his glasses. He seemed utterly at home.

  "Close the door, Veron." He muttered while chewing on Veron's Ruby Roman grapes

  He obeyed silently.

  Creeeeaaaak. Click

  "You should get that fixed," the intruder remarked without looking up.

  Sigh. Veron wiped sweat from his brow despite the climate-controlled room. "Why are you here, Mr. Wise?"

  He knew this man. And he knew better than to trifle with him.

  The man before him was him.

  The man. The myth. The legend.

  The fallen legend.

  Apex Human Alerick Wise.

  Though the person sitting across from him was dangerous enough to kill him at any moment, Veron never used his full presidential power to eliminate him.

  One reason: he probably wouldn’t be able to kill Wise even after all that.

  The other: the benefits. The innovations, the breakthroughs, the advancements this man had provided and could still provide were too valuable. The previous deals they'd made had proven that beyond any doubt.

  Nevertheless, seeing him appear like this was still terrifying. Who knew when his mood might shift?

  “Geez, relax, I won’t eat you.

  Alright, I'll get straight to the point." Wise leaned back, popping another grape into his mouth.

  Crunch. Crunch.

  "…I need you to acquire CM34, the material obtained from the meteorite this year, and its full research report."

  Veron's mind immediately churned. He sat heavily on the edge of his bed.

  "That CM34? The one that killed two dozen scientists? What are you planning to do with it?"

  "You already know what I'm going to do with it. Because you want it too."

  "Haha... You say that every time. But what am I even getting out of this?

  Sure, you gave me some of your creations. They were excellent. But you've never given me the method to reverse my aging."

  Wise's expression remained impassive.

  "I told you, that method is not perfect.”

  Veron still gave him a suspicious look. He didn't believe that the method is harmful. Afterall, the only user was standing right in front of him.

  “Fine, I’ll tell you. The method doesn't grant longevity or actually reverse the aging, all it does is let the user maintain their physical functions and features in exchange for speeding up the internal organ failure. For example, I, at my age, should not look like this. As a matter of fact, I shouldn’t even be able to walk properly, but I can, because of the method. Not to mention it requires one's physique to be above 8 on the WPS scale. You're still at 7. You'd fail."

  "And one more thing, I'm never giving you the method. The methodology is my intellectual property. If you want me to perform the procedure on you, I'll do it—even for free. But the method itself is off-limits. Those idiots in your labs don't know shit anyway. It's better to just leave it to me."

  Veron sighed.

  "Yeah... you're right about that. They don't even come close to your level."

  He paused, a bitter smile tugging at his lips.

  "Heh. Look at you. More than 85 years old, yet you look like you're in your forties or fifties—like some kind of playboy. Meanwhile, I'm still in my sixties, and I look older than my grandfather."

  He rubbed his temples.

  "Alright. Nobody's going to use it anyway. It won't be a problem for me to acquire it. But it'll take some time to procure both the material and the research."

  "Oh, I nearly forgot." Wise reached into his coat and pulled out a small metallic box. "I designed these new medicines for your physique enhancement regimen. Replace your old ones with these. They're 1.5 times more effective."

  "What?! You actually-" Veron's eyes widened. "The previous ones were already ten times better than what my lab produced…"

  Wise stared at him with an emotionless expression.

  Veron swallowed.

  "Alright. Consider it done by tomorrow."

  "There you go."

  Wise tossed the box onto the bed.

  "These are samples. I'll give you the full formula after you deliver the materials. Keep using the previous method and you won’t need the other one."

  He put his hands in his pockets and walked outside the window, but instead of falling, he kept walking for a few more steps in the air and then started levitating upwards. And he did all that without producing any light, sound, or heat. Within a second of exiting the window, he vanished entirely, as if he'd never existed. Probably some kind of optical illusion transparency.

  Veron stared at the empty space. Wise walking straight into his home and leaving without alerting anyone was something that he had never thought he’d witness in his life. The feat would become even more commendable if one realized that veron’s entire home was monitored every second, there were guards, drones, and AI everywhere. There was even a full satellite that monitored the area. All failed in front of a single man.

  'If only I could extract everything from him... I'd become the strongest person on Earth.'

  He shook his head bitterly.

  'This bastard... Every time you meet him, you end up regretting whatever you were doing in your youth.'

  …

  Year 2089, December 26th

  "Finally! This beauty is in my hands."

  Wise looked at the huge sealed container reverently, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

  "Now I just need to run thousands of experiments on it. Haha! I'm getting excited once again after so many failed attempts."

  …

  Year 2089, December 31st

  "President Veron? Is that you?" an official named Zlatan called out across the bustling New Year's Gala.

  Veron turned, a newfound vitality in his posture. "Zlatan! My friend, how are you?"

  "It is you! God, what's your secret? You look rejuvenated! What happened after Christmas?"

  Veron chuckled, puffing out his chest. "Just a little innovation from our R&D division. A new physiological serum. It works 1.5 times better than before."

  "What?! 1.5 times better?!" Zlatan's jaw dropped. "Mr. President, please tell me what you're feeding your lab team! How are they making such incredible innovations?"

  Veron grinned smugly.

  "And guess what? I just reached 7.5 on the WPS scale."

  "Ah, the Wise Physique Selective Scale..." Zlatan's expression darkened slightly. "Such a disappointment. If only the man himself had been more... stable. He wouldn't have died that day, and we could have truly reversed aging and extended human lifespan..."

  He sighed.

  "But as far as I can see, your lab is in no way inferior to him. Maybe they're even better! Congratulations, Mr. President. It would be an honor for all of us if you remained president for a hundred more years! Haha!"

  The party swirled around them for hours, culminating in the global countdown.

  “10… 9… 8…”

  Cheers erupted.

  “3… 2… 1”

  Hundreds of fireworks shot into the sky, the city exploded in light.

  “Happy New Year.”

  …