Dr. John Halloway was the kind of man who could break down the atomic structure of an orange while eating it. A scientist's scientist. Heavyset, bald by choice, and respected enough that people in lab coats stepped aside when he entered the room.
Tonight, he should have gone home.
But something had been bothering him for weeks. A question he couldn't shake: If the molecular structure of a fruit could be altered to preserve nutrients forever, what would it do to the fruit… or the human body?
So, as midnight chimed, John stayed in Lab D7, alone except for the pulsing hum of the particle field stabilizers. On the table sat a green apple.
Perfect. Unblemished.
He adjusted the beam alignment. He knew the risks—volatile reactions, molecular collapse. But John didn't fear danger. He feared ignorance.
He activated the pulse.
A thin beam of blue light buzzed to life, locking onto the apple. Particles shimmered. The fruit began to change—its skin thickening, its color dulling to a faint silver.
But then the stabilizer pulsed again—wrong this time. A second beam fired—off-angle, uncontrolled.
Straight into John's chest.
The lab went silent.
John staggered back, coughing. At first, he felt nothing but the static of adrenaline.
Then he looked at his hand.
Wood.
Smooth, bark-like skin had replaced his flesh—veined with sap-like veins. His eyes went wide.
He rushed to the mirror in the lab's corner. His face—still his. But his arms, both of them now, were entirely wood. Every breath he took creaked faintly.
"No, no, no—think, John. Think."
He stared at his reflection, mind racing. What was wood, chemically? Carbon chains. Cellulose. Water retention. Low conductivity. He pictured the structures in his mind, rearranging molecular tables—
Then scratched his head.
And the mirror cracked.
His entire body was diamond.
Not just hard—crystalline. Transparent in places. Beautiful. Terrifying.
He gasped—and shifted again. This time his skin rippled into smooth silver, mercury-like and fluid. He moved his hand and watched it trail like liquid steel.
John sat down, shaking.
He had done it. Somehow, some way, he had rewritten his own molecular structure.
He was no longer just studying the building blocks of life.
He was them.
And for the first time in decades, the scientist felt fear.