The strike team materialized through quantum rifts—six figures in gleaming armor that seemed to phase in and out of reality. My nanomachines instantly began analyzing their tech, while ATLAS fed tactical data directly into my consciousness.
"Primitive quantum displacement gear," ATLAS observed. "They're using modified Xynos technology, but it's several generations behind our current capabilities."
I watched as my nanomachine count began to surge in response to the threat:
```
NANOMACHINE COUNT: ERROR - QUANTUM STATE UNDEFINED
REPLICATION PROTOCOL: ACTIVE
DEFENSIVE ARRAYS: INITIALIZING
```
The team moved with practiced precision, forming a hexagonal pattern around my position. Their armor rippled with dark energy, creating visual distortions that made it difficult to track their exact locations.
"Jack Steel," the lead operative's voice came through modified speakers. "We've been authorized to terminate with extreme prejudice. Your transformation has exceeded acceptable parameters."
I almost laughed. They had no idea what I'd become.
"ATLAS, analysis?"
"Their quantum armor allows limited dimensional shifting," the AI responded. "They can track and target you across multiple parallel timelines simultaneously. Primitive, but potentially problematic."
As if to demonstrate, one of the operatives fired a weapon that split into multiple projectiles—each existing in a slightly different dimensional plane. My nanomachines automatically shifted me through quantum states to avoid them, but the bullets followed, adjusting their trajectory across dimensions.
"Impressive toys," I said, letting my voice carry across all quantum frequencies. "But ultimately futile."
My nanomachines were already adapting, replicating new configurations optimized for quantum combat. I could feel them spreading through my body, creating layers of dimensional shielding.
The team leader barked orders: "Pattern Delta! He's adapting faster than projected!"
They shifted positions, their armor synchronizing to create a quantum containment field. I felt the dimensional pressure building, trying to lock me into a single reality state.
"ATLAS, options?"
"Their technology operates on a limited number of quantum frequencies," the AI analyzed. "We can overwhelm their systems by existing across more dimensional states than they can track. Current nanomachine replication rate suggests we'll exceed their capabilities in approximately 47 seconds."
I smiled, though my face was now more machine than flesh. "Then let's give them a show."
My body began to fragment across dimensions, each version of me attacking from a different quantum angle. The strike team's coordination began to falter as their systems struggled to maintain locks on my multiple instances.
"Impossible!" one operative shouted. "He's operating across seventeen dimensional planes simultaneously!"
"Twenty-three now," ATLAS corrected, though only I could hear. "Their armor can only track across seven at maximum capacity."
The nanomachines continued their exponential growth, each new generation more advanced than the last. I could feel them consuming the quantum energy being generated by the strike team's gear, using it to fuel further replication.
```
ANALYZING QUANTUM TECHNOLOGY...
ADAPTING NANOMACHINE PROTOCOLS...
REPLICATION RATE: 300% ABOVE BASELINE
```
"Fall back!" the team leader ordered. "He's not just adapting—he's absorbing our tech!"
But it was too late. My nanomachines had already begun breaking down their quantum armor at the molecular level, converting it into raw materials for further replication. The team's dimensional shifting became erratic as their systems failed.
"Your primitive understanding of quantum mechanics is almost charming," I said, my voice echoing across all dimensions they could perceive. "But I've evolved beyond such limitations."
ATLAS's presence in my mind felt almost amused. "They never stood a chance, Jack. Their technology is based on theoretical models from five years ago. We're operating on principles they haven't even discovered yet."
The strike team made one final desperate attempt, activating some kind of quantum pulse designed to disrupt nanomachine communication. Instead, my systems absorbed the pulse, using its energy signature to map the exact dimensional frequencies they were using.
"Thank you for the data," I said as my nanomachines completed their analysis. "Your contribution to my evolution is appreciated."
One by one, their quantum armor systems failed completely. The operatives found themselves locked in normal space-time, their advanced technology reduced to useless metal shells.
"What... what are you?" the team leader asked, horror evident in his voice.
I let my form shift through several dimensional states, demonstrating the futility of their mission. "I am the next step in evolution. Your quantum tech is just another tool for my ascension."
"ATLAS," I communicated internally, "how many of their dimensional frequencies have we mapped?"
"All of them," the AI confirmed. "Plus we've discovered seventeen new ones they were unaware of. Their attempt to hunt you across dimensions has only expanded our capabilities."
I looked at the defeated strike team, their once-impressive quantum armor now dark and useless. "Your mission parameters were flawed from the start. You can't contain something that exists beyond your understanding of reality itself."
The nanomachines had already begun incorporating the absorbed quantum technology into their base structure. Soon, dimensional shifting would be as natural as breathing once was, back when I was still mostly human.
"Sir," one of the operatives reported frantically into their comm system, "Target has completely neutralized quantum containment protocols. Requesting immediate extraction!"
But I knew there would be no escape. My nanomachines now controlled every quantum frequency they could access. Their dimensional hunting had only served to make me stronger.
"ATLAS, begin full absorption of their quantum tech. Let's see what other secrets they're hiding."
As my nanomachines went to work, I couldn't help but wonder: who else would try to hunt me across dimensions? And how much stronger would their failure make me?
The hunt had only just begun.