A huge transformation unfolded before and after Rogers. It was enough to shake the minds of countless experts and scholars; indeed, nearly everyone in the Terra Federation felt compelled to rethink their understanding of human potential.
Out of this upheaval, a new organization emerged. At its core stood several accomplished medical doctors, united by a single vision: unlocking the latent power hidden within the human body.
"The human body itself is a treasure!" one proclaimed.
"An inexhaustible treasure!" echoed another.
They drew upon fragments of knowledge unearthed from the Earth Age, when their distant ancestors once experimented with enhancement potions and genetic serums.
"We must first rediscover the correct serum, the one that activates the body's deepest reserves of strength!" Declared the leading physician.
"As for simple medicines like penicillin, they are trivial now; we seek what truly reshapes humanity."
"Of course, we must be ready. The energy required for such breakthroughs will not be small."
When the Federation reviewed the official profile of this organization, a wave of shock rippled through the observers.
Six prominent MDs stood at its foundation, each with a reputation not built on fleeting fame, but on the weight of real authority. Surrounding them were scientists and scholars, PhDs in mechanics, biology, biochemistry, and more, forty strong, a force of intellect and ambition.
Their name was direct and powerful: The Human Potential Development Department.
Their declared goal: to elevate Terra's citizens to physical fitness rivaling Rogers himself, as shown in the episodes revealed through the Immortal Warrior account.
The announcement stirred the Federation. Support surged overnight, prestige soared, and for a time, the Human Potential Development Department stood at the very peak of public admiration.
When their leaders spoke, they carried the humility of visionaries: "Our predecessors planted trees so that we might enjoy the shade. We are merely scholars standing on the shoulders of giants. The true genius of this age is the Immortal Warrior. He is the bridge, the giant who links our Terra Federation with the ancient Earth Age."
And it was not only the doctors who rose to the moment. All across Terra, individuals of mastery began forming their own groups: independent innovators building experimental suits, bold dreamers founding astral exploration initiatives, and seekers establishing societies for paranormal research.
Fueled by the live broadcast of the Immortal Warrior's past life fragments, new organizations sprang up like wildfire. Though many were unofficial and loosely structured, their very existence proved one thing: a creative frenzy had ignited across the Federation. Even ordinary citizens joined the wave, devising schemes and fast-track proposals to reach federal officials or gain recognition online.
And as this fever swept the land, the audience surged beyond sixty million. At that very moment, every one of those viewers stared with growing horror at a single rising number on their screens: Activity. The third surge.
"Impossible… how can it keep rising?"
"This is madness."
"Every surge means something greater is coming."
"What kind of terrifying fragment is about to appear this time?"
45 million. The number climbed again, faster than anyone could follow. Unstoppable. Speculation spread like wildfire: what past life memories would be captured this time? The pulse of the activity pressed on every heart.
In the Administration, chaos reigned. The entire department was in an uproar.
"F**k! 60 million, it's broken 60 million!"
"Oh my God!"
"What the hell did he trigger?!"
"This is insane, I've never seen anything like it!"
Supervisors stood drenched in sweat, staring at the screens as numbers leapt wildly upward. There was no need to report to the director; the data itself was deafening.
High above, in the top-floor office, the chief stood equally drenched. Around him, holographic projections displayed experts and strategists, all watching with faces tight with disbelief.
"The Immortal Warrior's fragments… this is beyond anything we imagined."
"I thought the Earth Age episode was ending, but the surge has returned; something bigger is coming."
"His suit changed an entire era. What else could rival that influence?"
"Some claim he saved the world…"
"That's exaggeration, impactful, yes, but this isn't a novel."
Still, the Federation felt alive. New research groups were blooming, innovation was quickening, and this energy could reshape civilization.
But the chief's eyes narrowed.
"The activity has already passed 60 million. Is it pushing toward seventy?" It was absurd. He had never even heard of activity rising to such extremes.
"Each surge has unveiled something world-shaking. The Nine Realms. The World Tree. This new spike, what will it unleash?" His chest tightened as he spoke.
Meanwhile, across the Federation, people could feel it. The activity rises higher.
"Director, 70 million!" gasped the assistant. The number refused to stop.
In the North, at a rural school, the previous record-holder stood frozen before the broadcast.
"73 million?" His mind went blank.
His own once-glorious record now looked like a firefly against the blazing moon. His body trembled as he leaned against the school gate, a forced smile twisting his face.
75 million.
80 million.
86 million.
All of Terra, billions strong, now seemed to breathe in rhythm with Tanner's activity. The audience followed as the counter leapt again by the second.
The chat slowed. Silence overtook the barrage. Everyone knew. Whatever fragment emerged now… it could shake the world.
In the Administration Office, the director clenched his fists, knuckles white. Dozens of experts leaned forward, pens ready. Historian Johan could hardly keep his hand steady, his notes might record history itself.
At the Supreme Court, Elder Hyeon returned, joining the elders who now stood like ordinary citizens, eyes fixed on the climbing number.
"83 million," he rasped. His voice cracked with strain.
The pressure weighed on them all.
"I have a very bad feeling," murmured Elder Gladwin.
97 million. Breath quickened. Chests tightened. Even the air itself seemed to change.
"Why… why does it feel harder to breathe?"
"It's not nerves, it's the environment itself shifting!"
Horror struck. Only overwhelming forces could distort the world around them.
"Could it be… the Nine Realms' creatures again?"
Then, suddenly, it stopped. A single number shone on the screen, reflected in the eyes of billions: 100 million. An impossible figure. The combined resonance of countless lives. The activity of a hundred reincarnations, embodied in one moment.
And as it struck, all of Terra shook. From horizon to horizon, a voice like the toll of a colossal bell rolled through existence, reverberating in every ear.