Mike cupped his hands, scooping the cold water from the faucet before splashing it against his face. 

Droplets trickled down his cheeks as he straightened, his gaze lifting to meet his own reflection in the mirror.

The bright light above accentuated the sharp angles of his cheekbones and the depth of his brown eyes, which held a flicker of otherworldly intelligence for a short time.

Strange. He could feel his Main personality waking up, without reason. But it was not the time.

His hair, usually meticulously styled, lay in damp disarray from the water he'd splashed on his face, strands clinging to his forehead.

With a shake of his head, Mike turned away from the mirror.

After a short little check, he was back to his meticulous shape. Healthy fair skin, well-defined jaws, athletic build, visible even beneath the casual cut of his shirt. 

Countless hours in the gym and a little care to create my perfect self.

As he stepped back into the warmth, the pulsating beats of the music wrapped around him like a familiar embrace. The room was alive, thrumming with energy and success, everyone enjoying the after party.

Navigating through clusters of colleagues, Mike encountered the inebriated first. Bodies swayed with a precarious lack of coordination. 

"Mike, my man!" slurred Jeff as he stumbled forward, the content of his glass sloshing dangerously close to the brim.

Before Mike could escape, an arm found its way around his shoulders, pulling him close in a gesture of camaraderie that nearly ended in a shared bath of expensive liquor. 

"Isn't this amazing? We're on top of the world!" The drunk exclaimed loudly with an uproarious laugh.

He gently extricated himself from Jeff's grip, offering a smile. "Definitely, Jeff. Just try not to fly off it tonight,"

The comment earned him a hearty laugh as Jeff let out a loud guffaw, oblivious to the concerned glances they attracted. "I'll try, but I'm not making any promises!"

Taking a chance, Mike moved to the sides and spotted their serious manager, Elena, standing apart from the crowd. Her expression was a mix of pride and careful analysis, as if calculating the ROI on every laugh and dance move.

Approaching her, Mike ventured, "Elena, you've got to admit, this is quite the milestone for us."

Of course, the woman was one of those sticklers, but he didn't mind flattering her.

She turned her scrutinizing gaze on him. "Indeed, Mike. A milestone," she agreed, her tone measured. "But as much as we celebrate tonight, tomorrow, we strategize for the next hundred million. Success doesn't sleep."

Before he could respond, a burst of laughter from the dance floor caught her attention, and for a split second, a smile threatened to break through her professional facade. "Though, I suppose a little celebration doesn't hurt."

Maybe not so strict tonight. 

Next, he was swept towards the dance floor by the wave of the dancing craze. 

Young recruits, interns, some just out of college, moved with a freedom and joy that was infectious. Lara, one of the newest team members, grabbed his hand. "Come on, Mike! You can't let us have all the fun!"

He laughed, allowing himself to be pulled into the rhythm for a moment before insisting, "I'm afraid I might just bring down the party's average dance skill level."

"Nonsense!" Lara shouted over the music, twirling under his expertly held arm. "It's all about the spirit!"

After a few more dances, he extracted himself. "I'll catch up with you guys in a bit," he said, his voice barely rising above the music.

As he approached the bar, the bartender greeted him with a knowing smile, sliding a glass of wine across the polished surface before he even asked.

It was the third major deal this year, and the third party was in the same hotel.

"Celebrating hard tonight, huh?" the bartender remarked, his tone light, eyes scanning the crowd with an amused glint.

He took a sip, the crisp flavor of the wine offering a brief respite. "You could say that," Mike replied, his gaze drifting away from the bar and towards the open roof setup of the penthouse. 

The city skyline stretched before him, a myriad of lights against the dark canvas of the night. "But sometimes, it feels like we're just celebrating numbers, you know? Just printing money."

The bartender nodded, his expression turning reflective. "I guess at the end of the day, it's about what those numbers mean to you, isn't it?"

He chuckled, the sound more bitter than he intended. "And what if they mean nothing?"

With a glass in hand, he stepped out into the open, the cool night air brushing against his skin. The party's noise faded into a distant hum, leaving him with his thoughts and the sprawling city below.

The skyline, usually a symbol of ambition and progress, now seemed to mock him with its indifferent grandeur.

In this moment of solitude, surrounded by the evidence of their success, he couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness. And his Main personality growing emergence. 

How many skylines have I seen? Much higher than these?

He sipped his wine again, its flavor now lost on him. The city continued to shine, indifferent to the existential crisis of one corporate employee, in this sea of lights and shadows.

As he stood there, lost in contemplation, a voice from behind startled him out of his reverie.

"Lost in the lights, or just lost in thought?" A woman's melodious voice, pulling him out of his stupor.

He turned back towards the party, wanting to see the woman, but stopped short.

Standing beside him was a woman he had never seen before.

Too close without me even knowing…

His slight drunkenness evaporated instantly as he took in every detail.

She was stunning, an embodiment of beauty.

"I was just... taking a moment," he found himself saying, his usual eloquence escaping him.

"A moment," she repeated, a smile playing on her lips. "And what did you find in your moment, Mike?"

He blinked, surprised she knew his name, the charm breaking. "I'm not sure we've met..."

"We haven't," she assured as she turned to him, her eyes locking with his. "But I've heard of you. The man of the hour."

"And who are you?" he asked, curiosity piqued while ignoring the flattering.

"Someone who offers an adventure for those daring enough to seek it…" she replied seductively, her gaze not wavering.

"An adventure?" he echoed, intrigued and skeptical. Is she talking about sex?  "In what form does this adventure come?"

Her hand brushed his in a seemingly casual gesture that sent an unexpected shiver through him.

As she leaned toward him, her proximity became more pronounced, her gestures more deliberate. 

There was an undeniable seductiveness in her movements, a calculated grace that seemed to draw the eye and stir the mind.

"Indeed," she murmured, her voice a soft caress against the backdrop of the party's din. "A quest for those bold enough to delve beyond the mundane. To sip the true essence. Do you consider yourself bold, Mike?"

Her touch lingered, a silent testament to her playful provocations. Yet, it was the shimmer of excitement in her eyes, the promise of untold mysteries, that truly captivated him.

"Boldness has many faces," he countered, meeting her gaze. "But the heart of the matter isn't about boldness, is it? It's about what one finds at the journey's end. What's the treasure?"

"Treasure?" She tilted her head slightly, a lock of hair cascading over her shoulder. "Why spoil the surprise? You will find out soon enough. Don't you love the sense of adventure?"

"So, will you step into the unknown with me?" she asked, her voice now carrying a weight of sincerity. "Will you chase the horizon of discovery?"

There was a moment of hesitation, a breath suspended in time. "Sure," he found himself saying, drawn in by the gravity of her proposal. 

Her smile held a flicker of victory, and in that instant, the world seemed to shift on its axis. 

A sharp pain, sudden and overwhelming, pierced his chest. 

Glancing down in disbelief, he saw the handle of a dagger, its presence surreal against the fabric of his reality.

The terrace, the party, the very ground beneath his feet began to fade, dissolving into the ether of an unfathomable void. The pain was there but distant, a sensation belonging to another existence.

 A shove was all he felt. 

And the impact sent him over the edge.

He plummeted.

Wind roared in his face, his stomach churned as the cityscape rapidly ascended above him.

Crazy Woman.

Ground approached quickly, bringing with it the foul lurch of death—and right when he closed his eyes to embrace the inevitable, the world shook, and he found himself frozen in place.

A frown spread across his face. 

A voice echoed across his ears, the same as the woman's, "Hope we meet again, little Adamson…"

Then, new words started to appear in his mind.

Integration of Human ( ID: ADAMxEVE001 ) has begun.
Please await further instructions as the assessment is completed. 

Welcome to the Multiverse.

Error XX843923. Protocol 98x8324 Initiated.
Peripheral World Selected. System Powerdown. Memory Erasure Started…

The world erupted in blinding light.