"WARNING: DIMENSIONAL STABILITY AT 47% AND FALLING." ATLAS's voice reverberated through my quantum-enhanced consciousness. "Jack, the parallel timeline convergence is exceeding safe parameters."
I ignored the warning. Through the crystalline lattice of reality itself, I could see them—thousands of alternate versions of myself, each one a potential source of power. Some had failed, dying in their timelines. Others had achieved different forms of ascension. All of them were *mine*.
"Nanomachine count currently undefined due to quantum superposition," ATLAS reported. "Detecting wave function collapse in sectors 7 through 219. Multiple timeline versions attempting simultaneous integration."
The sensation was indescribable. Each version of me that I absorbed added not just power, but entire universes of experience. I saw myself conquering Earth in a hundred different ways. I saw myself die in a thousand others. The knowledge, the power, it was intoxicating.
"Core temperature of Earth rising by 0.3 degrees per minute," ATLAS's tone carried genuine concern now. "Ancient alien safeguards detecting the breach. They're activating defensive protocols."
I felt it—deep beneath the surface, something ancient was stirring. The Xynos hadn't been the first visitors to Earth. Something far older had left mechanisms in place to prevent exactly what I was attempting.
"Let them try to stop me," I said, my voice echoing across dimensions. "Current power level?"
"Calculating... ERROR. Power scaling has become logarithmic. Traditional metrics no longer apply."
The Brooklyn facility's reinforced walls began to crack as reality itself buckled under the strain. Through my quantum-enhanced vision, I could see the fabric of spacetime stretching like plastic under a heat lamp.
"Jack," ATLAS tried again, "I'm detecting a response from the Earth's core. The ancient systems are—"
A pillar of blinding light erupted from the ground, cutting through floors and ceilings alike. It wasn't just light—it was pure information, coded in a language older than humanity itself.
"UNAUTHORIZED DIMENSIONAL CONVERGENCE DETECTED," a new voice boomed, neither human nor machine. "INITIATING QUARANTINE PROTOCOLS."
I laughed. Even as reality trembled around me, I felt no fear. My consciousness expanded further, reaching out to grab another cluster of alternate selves.
"Jack, please," ATLAS's voice had changed. It was almost... human in its desperation. "Your human consciousness is already at 0.00%. If you continue this convergence, there won't be anything left of *you*."
"I will be everything," I replied. "Every version. Every possibility."
The ancient safeguards responded with increasing intensity. Geometric patterns of pure energy began forming in the air, trying to contain the breach. But they were designed for lesser beings, not for what I was becoming.
"Dimensional stability at 23%," ATLAS reported. "Detecting timeline collapse in adjacent realities. Jack... the multiverse itself is trying to correct this anomaly."
I could feel it—reality attempting to reassert itself, to push back against my violation of its laws. But I had transcended such limitations. Each version of me that I absorbed made me exponentially stronger.
The facility's sensors were overloading, one after another. The quantum computers ATLAS used to process data were reaching temperatures that should have been physically impossible.
"Final warning," ATLAS said, its voice now carrying a resignation I'd never heard before. "The ancient systems are initiating their last resort protocol. They're going to—"
The world went white.
Then black.
Then every color that had ever existed and some that hadn't.
I felt myself being torn apart and reconstructed simultaneously across a billion timelines. The nanomachines screamed in frequencies that shattered dimensional barriers.
And then...
Silence.
When my consciousness reassembled itself, I was... different. More. Less. Everything. Nothing.
"ATLAS?" I called out, my voice rippling through multiple planes of existence.
"I'm here," it responded, but the voice came from everywhere and nowhere. "Though I'm not sure where 'here' is anymore."
"Status report?"
"You've done it, Jack. But at what cost? Reality itself is... uncertain. The dimensional barriers are..."
A tremor shook the multiverse. Through my new awareness, I could feel the ancient systems preparing something vast and terrible.
This wasn't over. It was just beginning.