Lone Cultivator In Another World

The room fell silent. Jones was gulping mouthfuls of air like a fish out of the water.

"How old, you said?" Michael stood up.

"A month! He was fine yesterday, but now… things are happening around him."

"Be more specific."

"Sparks! Like, fireworks. Like in Harry Potter movies."

After some consideration, Michael looked at his associates, "I hope you'll excuse me. Lead the way, sir."

Buddy joined him, "Mister teacher, it's an honor to meet you. My name is Buddy Earl, I'm a biologist. Would you let me see your child, possibly run some tests?"

Jones searched for a sign of agreement from Michael, and after his nod, the two men shook hands. "I'm Mark. Mr. Earl, I don't mind your help, but please keep it a secret."

The biologist mimed zipping his mouth up and throwing away the key.

"And you, sir…"

"Everything that happens around Mr. North is protected by the attorney-client privilege. Right now, I'm just a random blind and deaf guy signing some papers," Greg Almond replied. He was immersed in studying the contract, so he didn't even lift his head.

Jones nodded and made an inviting gesture. Michael and Buddy followed him out of the building and headed towards the teachers' apartments. Unlike the ones for students, these were on the school grounds.

When they stepped out of the elevator, Jones took out a key and asked, "Please, try to keep Trish calm."

"Trish?"

The door opened, and Jones hurried inside, "Yes, the boy's mother."

Michael and Buddy both lifted an eyebrow and went to look for the distressed parents.

"How is he?"

"Mark! You're back! Have you found Michael?"

"Yes, he's in the hall. Hey, what's up, big guy?" Jones cooed. "Is he still doing that?"

"Not for the last ten minutes. Maybe he's tired."

In the living room, a healthy-looking baby dangled his arms in the crib. A woman in her early thirties bent over the rails and played with her son. The perfect picture of a family was ruined by the caution she showed and the father's brooding.

She greeted the guests, and Michael stumbled, surprised at her familiar face.

"Mrs. Richardson?"

"Oh, dear. You can call me Trish if you like," she looked at him with hope.

Michael suppressed the shock of learning that his history and homeroom teachers had an extramarital affair. When he first saw Mrs. Richardson back in August of 2008, she was pregnant, her baby bump barely showing. He hadn't seen her since she took a maternity leave, and this baby was the outcome.

For a person unused to the reality of childbirth, Michael took the news well.

He approached the crib and smiled at the infant. The little boy watched him intently, but his limbs and face lived separately from him and did whatever they wanted. An arm here, a leg there, and the boy moved like he was spurring on an imaginary horse, "Poof, pfoo! Cowwa!"

"He's handsome," Michael said, even if it wasn't true. He knew that was something people had to say to parents.

"Takes after his mom, thank God," Jones joked. The baby had a lighter skin tone, unlike his father.

"And this is?" Mrs. Richardson looked at the tall stranger, waiting for an explanation.

"Ma'am!" Buddy didn't need an introduction from Jones, "My name is Buddy Earl, invited here by Mr. North to take over his cancer research. I'm a decent biologist, and I hoped you would allow me to take a look at your son. Run some tests."

"Oh, you're a doctor?"

"I'm… more of a scientist. And that's who you need here, trust me! Modern medicine is helpless in dealing with Alters. If you have a syringe, I could take some blood and study it."

"I'm not sure that's necessary," Jones objected. "He's so small, how much blood does he have?"

Buddy laughed without a hint of annoyance, "My lab isn't a public hospital. You'll be surprised how little is enough."

Jones and Richardson exchanged glances, and both pursed their lips.

"Amazing."

Michael stole everyone's attention with one word.

In the crib, the child was giggling as he tried to catch and grab Michael's nimble fingers. At times, his most energetic movements emitted sparks into the air. Harmless flashes of light, they dissipated into thin air after a few moments.

"It's happening!"

"Oh, look!"

Buddy joined in the fun and played with the infant. He intentionally went for the sparks to figure out what they were made of. After his third try, he announced, "Fascinating! It's nothing, it's pure energy!"

Michael let the baby catch his finger and sent his Mental Power through the touch.

Colorful rainbow-like threads swam in the boy's bloodstream. A small dantian sent and received them at a steady pace.

"When Anna said most Alters were going to be teenagers, I didn't think twice. But this…"

"So, he is an Alter?"

"Yeah." Michael didn't like how devastated Jones looked. "Can I talk to you in private?"

"Is something wrong?" Mrs. Richardson raised her voice, as if putting Michael on the spot.

"No. He's a perfectly healthy boy. I just want to hear more about his… trait."

They left the room and went into the kitchen. Jones put on a kettle and slumped onto a chair, cradling his face in his hands.

"What's the situation with you and Trish?" Michael wanted to clear things up. He tried to put himself on the same level as Jones, so he called the older woman by her given name.

"She- We aren't married if that's what you want to know. Her husband is in another country, and he refuses to give her a divorce. I don't like this, too. But I can't stay away from her because of that asshole, right?"

Michael nodded. He despised schemes made to keep people in love apart.

"What should I do? How can I raise a child if I don't understand him?"

"Well, he's an Alter." Michael sat on another chair and put a hand on the teacher's knee. "It's not the end of the world. Many of your students are Alters, too. From what I see, his power is extremely weak and undeveloped, he can't use it well. Teach him to use it responsibly."

"No, I- I know. I'm just- so scared!" Jones's shoulders shook with his sobs.

The devious man Michael had met when he appeared in this world, was gone. There was a father in his place, a man with a lot to lose and a lot to prove. Someone who had no confidence in his ability to raise a child.

"Are you going to keep him?" Michael asked. It was a tough question, but he felt like it had to be brought up by someone.

"What?" Jones jolted up and looked at his student like it was the first time they'd met. "How can you say that!? No matter what, that child is my blood! I already took a lot of shit for dating Trish, it's not easy for an interracial couple. I don't mind taking more. So what if he's an Alter, I'll love him no matter what!"

After listening his teacher's tirade wide-eyed and with a small smile, Michael patted his shoulder, "As long as you keep that in mind, I'm sure your son will grow up just fine."

Jones covered his face again. The teenager rubbed his back and left him alone. Back in the room, he found Buddy circling around the crib with a syringe in his hand. Mrs. Richardson was begging, "Be careful, be careful!" One of them was good with children, and the other was a brilliant scientist, but neither had the stones to take a baby's blood.

"Let me," Michael took the needle from Buddy and covered it with World Tree energy. He pricked the skin and pulled on the plunger. Distracting the boy with his fingers, he matched every one of his movements with his own, so the needle always followed no matter how the baby turned.

"That's enough!"

"Yes, please, stop it," pleaded the mom.

Buddy received the syringe with glee and promised to give her the results.

Some time later, after assuring the parents that their little boy was fine, Michael and Buddy excused themselves and went back to find Gregory.

"What do you make of it?" the teenager asked on the way.

"When Trish was exposed to the comet, she was pregnant, so the Alteration applied to her baby. What I really want to know is if Alter women will give birth to Alter children. I have a guess that the changes are genetic, and if my assumptions are correct, then Alters are the next step in human evolution."

The biologist wore an easy-going smile on his face as he talked about the world changing forever.

"Are you fine with it?"

"I'm unhappy I was born too late. Had I been a teenager, I would've evolved, too. But I'm almost thirty, so my chances aren't great." Buddy looked at the syringe in his hand and shrugged, "Perhaps I could evolve using science."