Chapter Title: The Drop
The year is 2033, and a groundbreaking capsule is circulating quietly through the black market.
Each pill is valued at a minimum of $50 billion—making it a treasure only the world's elite can afford. Its supply is so limited that even the wealthiest struggle to acquire one.
A single dose grants instant mastery of a skill. The body restructures itself to accommodate the new ability, and instinctive genius emerges.
These miraculous capsules are called Inspira.
With one pill, a talentless street beggar could transform into a world-class artist—living out dreams that once seemed impossible. Within a year of its silent release, every major industry saw a sudden surge in prodigies. New legends in art, music, science, and even sports emerged almost overnight.
While the world gawked in awe, wondering where this explosion of talent came from, the elites already knew the truth.
And behind the pill's creation was a shadowy genius whose face had remained hidden—until now.
"Hello and welcome, everyone!"
A charismatic voice pierced through the pitch-black void. In the spotlight stood a lone figure, surrounded by twenty-four colossal monitors. Each screen displayed a dark silhouette—figures cloaked in mystery and power. They were the true global rulers, wielding more influence than any president, king, or prime minister.
And they answered to only one man.
Silently, they watched from their respective screens, their expressions unreadable but eager. They waited like hounds for their master's command.
Standing beneath the spotlight was a man dressed in a pristine white tuxedo. He exuded presence—calm, commanding, unfazed. He was known only as Mr. Adam.
Renowned as the most intelligent and talented human ever born, Adam had mastered every known discipline—medicine, athletics, music, engineering, and more. No one could match him. Not even in his signature habit of wagering with anything and anyone bold enough to challenge him.
Some called him the perfect human.
He had granted each of the twenty-four leaders their current status through his invention: the Inspira Capsule. Every capsule contained a fraction of his genius, bestowing unparalleled skill upon the user.
Each of them had taken one—and each had been reborn.
Sharper senses. Unmatched health. Instant comprehension. Reflexive brilliance. Some even developed extraordinary abilities—perfect pitch, photographic memory, hyperpolyglot fluency, synesthetic creativity, and lightning-speed calculation. All from a single capsule.
Yet one haunting question remained:
Could they get another?
They pleaded. Offered their empires. Surrendered their riches. But Adam refused to provide a second dose—to anyone.
Now, after years of silence, he had summoned them again. And hope returned.
"I know this is the first time I've revealed myself to you directly," Adam said, his voice smooth and steady. "So take a good look. This may also be the last time you'll ever see me."
"Mr. Adam, does that mean... you're leaving? Can we contact you somehow?" one leader asked anxiously.
"If you need anything, take my jets, my men—whatever you want," offered another.
"I'll give you an island. Just say the word."
They scrambled to offer him the world—because that's what they believed ruled the world.
But Adam merely raised his hand, and silence swept the room like a guillotine—not from command, but from fear.
A single glance from Adam could kill.
And that wasn't a metaphor.
He had demonstrated remote mental execution before. None dared interrupt.
"I understand your concern," he said softly. "Relax. I called you here to share good news. I have... one final gift."
The room erupted—gasps, wide eyes, faint murmurs of disbelief.
Another Inspira?
Adam lifted a small device from his pocket. A palm-sized hologram flickered to life, revealing a clear bottle with a glowing black capsule inside.
"This," he said, "is the peak of my creations. And it will be my last."
The silence was immediate.
"All my knowledge, my power—everything—is inside this capsule."
GULP.
Even through the screens, the weight of his words crushed them.
"With this, you'll gain unlimited knowledge. Speak any language without translation. Harness energy from thin air. Kill with a thought—and reverse death itself. And much more…"
Their hands trembled. Their eyes gleamed with greed.
I want it.
No—I need it.
"But only one of you can have it," Adam said.
"Sh*t."
"Da*n."
"Put*ng ina…"
Groans echoed. Of course it wouldn't be easy. This was Adam. Perfection had a price.
He grinned wickedly. "Do you want it?"
Of course they did. More than anything.
"But I won't decide who gets it. That's up to you."
"You promise not to interfere this time?" asked a composed, curious voice.
"You have my word," Adam said, smirking.
A new screen lit up, showing a high-speed drone flying over the Pacific. Suspended beneath it was the capsule.
So... another finders-keepers game, they all realized.
Hands moved subtly. Commands were issued. Operatives mobilized instantly.
"I've calculated every variable," Adam chuckled. "And I bet not one of you will get that capsule—even after years."
"What? Why?" someone asked.
Adam sipped a steaming cup of tea. "Because... it will come back to me eventually."
And then—SPLASH.
The drone dropped the capsule into the ocean.
Each leader's screen flashed with the coordinates of the drop zone.
GULP.
The race had begun.
But before more orders could be sent, Adam added a final twist.
"Ahh," he sighed. "So this is what death feels like."
As the leaders barked orders behind muted mics, Adam's calm smile twisted into a grimace.
His body began to shake. Then—blue blood burst from his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth like a fountain.
Yet... he smiled.
"What's going on?! Is he poisoned?"
"No—he's immune!"
"It's that f***ing tea!"
"Lord, cover him with Your blood!"
Chaos broke out. Panic. Pleas. Bargains.
"Mr. Adam, let us help you!"
"Give us your location!"
But they didn't care about saving him. They wanted his secrets. His lab. His legacy.
Adam raised a trembling hand—and silence returned.
"Don't bother, children," he whispered. "See you in three years... maybe."
And then, his body dissolved—not like a corpse, but like sand blown by wind. No blood. No clothes. Nothing remained but the still-steaming cup of tea.
They remembered a past meeting, when Adam demonstrated nanotech that could disintegrate a person and their clothing instantly.
So was this death?
Or had he transcended?
At this moment, all of the leaders had mixed emotions. A few seconds ago they were excited, then came the twist, then Adam's death. It was events too many to process quickly. Although Mr. Adam was a figure they barely knew, but as their benefactors, they have all grown to look up to him.
His sudden death looked like just another game for him but for the leader's who had benefited greatly from his work, it was a surprise they never expected to see today.
As the thought of Mr. Adam's death slowly sinked into their mind with obvious doubts, the confirmation followed next.
Suddenly, their screens flickered one last time.
"If you received this message, that means I've actually died. And Mr. Adam is gone. I know. Don't be sad little children. Look at it this way instead, now that I am gone, the room is now all yours! With my legacy just waiting to be grabbed in the middle of the ocean, this also means that one of you can become the next Mr. Adam—that is if you can find it though. Hue hue hue. Good luck and enjoy the show~"
The transmission finally ended.
Silence gripped the council. Some cried, some were excited, some were doubtul and some had blank faces but many were fueled by renewed purpose.
Who's going to be their new leader? It's of course it will be the one who obtains the final Inspira legacy of Mr. Adam.
The golden egg maybe gone. But now they knew where the golden goose had fallen.
The only question was: Who would find it first?
A long silence passed—until one leader broke it.
"Well," said a cold female voice, "I have a meeting to attend. Goodbye." Her screen blinked out. She was known as the Python of the Amazon and is known to be extremely cold to everyone.
"Oh yeah! Me too!" chirped a young voice that came from a figure that resembled that of a teenage kid.
"I have mass to attend," said an elderly man in priestly robes.
"Mass my ass," growled another. "I know what you all want and I am warning you all-I aint showing mercy to anyone who dares to block my way!" the voice came from ahulking man in the monitor.
"Then let me warn you as well. I am going all out. My suggestion is that you all back out now of the Pacific or else-"
One by one, the monitors went dark. None of them dared to stay any longer and none of them are afraid of each other.
The chase was on.
And this war? It would remain buried in secrecy. With their power, no matter the event - they always have the means to silence the squeakers. It's just another monday.
No media would ever hear of it. Any leak would trigger death microchips embedded in the hearts and minds of all involved—from generals to delivery boys.
Even passing birds wouldn't be safe.
United States. Somewhere on a private estate.
Jones Smith, billionaire and shadow president, stood before a shimmering diamond-encrusted laptop.
Six years ago, he was just a crawfish farmer. Now, he was more powerful than the official U.S. president—all thanks to Adam.
Gazing out at the Pacific through his window, he muttered:
"Josh."
"I'm listening," came the reply.
"You know what to do."
"Twelve F-15EX jets and twenty Iowa-class battleships en route. Helicopters inbound—"
"No. Let the first pilot pick it up. Personally."
"Understood."
"Send everything—drones, boats, canoes if you must. If anyone gets it first, offer them a billion. If they refuse... eliminate them. Do whatever it takes. Tell the president I'll take full responsibility. Clear?"
"Crystal."
Smith turned toward his luxury sofa. His hand trembled.
"That capsule will be mine," he whispered.
"I will be the next Mr. Adam."
Across the globe, similar orders echoed.
Secret militaries moved. Satellites locked onto the capsule drifting in the Pacific.
The secret war had begun.
Tensions swelled. Flames of war smoldered just beneath the waves.
In the vast ocean, a tiny capsule floated—unaware of its significance.
A curse? A miracle?
Time would tell.
But one truth remained: with a single drop, blood would flow.
Three weeks after the drop, a covert war unfolded in the heart of the Pacific. Hidden from satellites and news outlets, twenty-four armies clashed—but none succeeded in retrieving the capsule.
Despite advanced ocean filters, scanners, and surveillance, the capsule remained lost.
After months of heavy losses, the leaders agreed to a ceasefire—to search instead of fight.
Still, no one found it.
Seven months later, three fishermen rowed quietly toward their usual spot. At the boat's rear, one knelt and squinted at something floating nearby.
"BINGO!"
He scooped it up with a grin.
"Look, Mang Tiko! Isn't God amazing? I told you he would answer my prayer!"
His name was Alan. And the moment he saw the pill, he could not help but be excited!
"With this, its good bye diarhea!"
He exclaimed triumphantly unaware of the storm that vial could bring to his life.