1st person POV
The first thing I felt when I entered my new body was information overload.
Eight years of life compressed into a single second. And when I say eight years, I mean every moment of those eight years. I saw the bloody day I was born, and it's not a pleasant memory.
There are also memories of my parents. Apparently, my family tree is quite varied.
My father had two identities. To the world, he was Artemis Fowl, head of the Fowl clan, which has existed since 1066. To the criminal underworld, he was the leader of the Lupin II Empire. On his mother's side, Fiona Fowl, he was Irish. On his father's side, Arsène Lupin I, he was French. He died two years ago when the Russian mafia bombed his ship, the Fowl Star, as it was heading for the Kola Peninsula, as they did not want Western competition in their market.
My mother, Angeline Fowl, of British and Russian descent, died of depression after my father's death.
And how did I react? I took revenge.
When ROB said no enemies, no scores to settle, he wasn't kidding.
How does a nearly seven-year-old supergenius with $16.5 billion in the bank and access to a criminal empire take revenge on a mafia of several hundred people who controlled crime throughout Russia and had connections in the Kremlin?
In the words of a very wise man, dressed in purple and always with a big smile on his face, gunpowder and dynamite are very cheap.
I spent no more than a thousand dollars on explosives. I hired people to plant bombs in their homes, in their shelters, in their cars, anywhere a member of that organisation might be. Using a communications system I had created, I pressed a button and sent a signal that detonated them all at once. Hundreds of explosions in perfect synchrony.
They said it was an attack on Russia by its Western enemies, and for a while there was fear that World War III would break out, but in the end nothing came of it and, according to the Kremlin, there were no casualties.
And what happened to your political connections? In Russian politics, if word reaches the upper echelons that you have ties to persona non grata, you may accidentally come into contact with Novichok.
I also have memories of living with Domovoi Butler, now my legal guardian, and Juliet Butler.
Domovoi Butler is my bodyguard and servant. He is Russian-Japanese, forty years old, tall, bald, with dark blue eyes, and usually wears Hugo Boss suits. I usually just call him Butler. He comes from a long line of Butlers and has served and protected me since my birth. He studied in Switzerland and Israel and has a blue diamond tattoo on his shoulder, which he got at the age of eighteen when he graduated from Madame Ko's Personal Protection Academy. He has carried out secret missions all over the world for various organisations for the sole purpose of preparing himself to be my bodyguard and servant. He is the only person who knows that Lupin III and I are the same person.
Juliet Butler is Butler's younger sister and my maid. She is eighteen years old, has brown eyes, blonde hair, and is an American national. She has a knack for blending into any group like a native. Like her brother, she is extremely skilled in martial arts and capable of dispatching opponents despite a size disadvantage. She was also trained by Madame Ko. Unlike Butler, she does not possess the seriousness and relentless military discipline of a professional bodyguard. She did not earn the blue diamond tattoo from Madame Ko's Academy because she was unwilling to harm innocent people who would prevent her from completing her mission.
She seems to have suffered somewhat from the consequences of Lupin III's perverted personality, although she does not seem to mind her young master's behaviour as she thinks it is due to the deaths of her parents. It could have been worse if she had chosen Kuroko Koumori. One is a pervert who likes women. The other is a super-pervert whose mind revolves almost entirely around the same thing.
Based on their backgrounds, both are quite faithful to their versions in the books.
There are also memories of thefts from museums and private collections over the past year.
After reorganising my thoughts, I decide to open my eyes.
Then the pain hits.
"Fuck."
The overload of information makes my brain work without asking permission.
To anyone else, my room would be typical of a rich person in a mansion, with a king-size bed.
Not to me.
My mind needs to know everything about everything. Not only does it analyse the age or authenticity of objects, it also calculates the speed of the wind outside from the movement of the curtains. Even more absurdly, with just a glance at a painting, I know that the painter is married, left-handed, lives in New Orleans and is having an affair with her neighbour. And that her husband, who makes the frames by hand, is also having an affair with that same neighbour.
All that at a single glance.
"Damn, I have to learn to control my brain."
I close my eyes and try to reduce the absorption of information. It works halfway. The sounds and smells remain.
"I asked for a child genius and a thief, not the bloody Doctor."
Then I understand. It's the combination of both minds. Artemis Fowl is a super genius obsessed with control. Lupin III is a creative, hyperactive genius. Together they form an imaginative super genius who wants to control everything and can't sit still for a second.
"Shit. I'm starting to understand how Jean Grey felt when her powers awakened, or Superman with his enhanced senses."
I start to filter the information I let in. It's like trying to ignore the neighbour's music, which is always blaring.
Now it's time for my sight.
I look down at the floor and slowly open my eyes. At first, a flood of information hits me, but little by little I filter it until I can control it.
I look around. I no longer have problems with information overload.
I get out of bed. Juliet is about to arrive with my clothes, as she does every day.
Someone knocks on the door.
"Come in."
The door opens and Juliet enters with a change of clothes.
She is dressed in a French maid's outfit. As I said, blame Lupin, although I'm not complaining.
Unfortunately, I'm only 8 years old.
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If you like it, leave your opinion and stones, otherwise I'll get discouraged.