"Incredible!"
Mesa gently touched the ground with his palm. Dust and gravel rippled and vibrated around him with his breath, while the AI acted as a cheerleader.
"This is amazing! There's never been anything like this in Witrum's history."
The AI scanned him from head to toe, marveling, "An invisible field surrounds you, which can change according to your will."
"A biofield." Mesa felt a surge of excitement. Even without the rays of the yellow sun, he had awakened his biofield on his own.
The biofield is the most vivid representation of Superman's idealistic power, a concept that would make Sirius Black turn in his grave. It applies Superman's mental thoughts to the physical world, allowing him to lift airplanes, skyscrapers, and even rescue Lois Lane at high speeds.
When in doubt or unable to explain something, it's the biofield at work.
A quick search revealed that Spider-Man had also tried to save his girlfriend while falling at high speed, but the result was tragic—his spine was broken.
"Ordinary Witrumians possess similar abilities, but they achieve them by manipulating intelligent atoms, far less freely than you," the AI reported, comparing data from the spaceship's archives.
Mesa raised an eyebrow. Over the past five years, the AI had read a considerable amount of information from the spaceship's onboard records.
Her father, whom she had never met, had instilled a plethora of hegemonic ideas during prenatal education, but thankfully, he remembered that his child was an innocent infant with no understanding of the world, and the database contained a wealth of educational materials.
The DNA of the Witrumians endowed them with the ability to manipulate intelligent atoms; even their bodies were composed of these atoms, allowing them to withstand almost any extreme environment, possess immense strength, escape gravity, and travel faster than light.
Any adult Witrumian had the ability to destroy celestial bodies.
Thinking about it this way, it was indeed different from Kryptonians, who generally lacked special abilities unless exposed to the yellow sun.
"Over the years, your physical abilities have been improving endlessly, from barely surviving in the spaceship to your current extraordinary state.
Conquering the galaxy is just around the corner!"
Sure enough, this AI always managed to veer toward power.
"With such diligent assistance and advice to the emperor, you may be named Minister."
Ignoring the AI's incessant chatter, Mesa propelled himself upward, instantly breaking the sound barrier. The curved edge of the planet came into view; he was already in outer space.
With his back to the planet, Mesa gazed into the dark depths of space. He had wanted to leave this place for a long time, but the problem was that he couldn't find a way to reach Earth.
No matter which parallel universe of DC Comics he was in now, Earth was the center of the plot's struggle, meaning there must be a solar system in that galaxy.
These past five years had been incredibly stifling for him. Without the Internet or Wi-Fi, there was no entertainment, and he could only sift through the dry, authoritarian trivia in the spaceship.
Mesa sighed. The only way to pass the time was by studying planetary knowledge and combat skills. In his previous life, high school lasted three years, and postgraduate entrance exams only a year. He never imagined he'd find himself using studying as a pastime.
How could a modern person stand this? Planet VI was at least thousands of years more advanced than Earth, yet it seemed to have no entertainment at all, focusing entirely on war technology. With a lifespan of several thousand years, how did the VI people survive? Was it all due to the oppressive atmosphere of another planet?
No wonder they wanted to leave their home planet and wreak havoc on others. Anyone would find that unbearable, turning them into psychological psychopaths.
On Earth, with his current abilities, money would be readily available, allowing him to live comfortably.
He wouldn't necessarily abstain from beef like others, but at least he could be a kind-hearted version of a superhero, doing whatever he wanted.
He turned around, letting gravity pull him down, carving a deep crater in the ground. Now he could only stay here with the war-crazed AI, digging for stones.
"Re-inspect the star map."
"The navigation components are damaged, and there are no repair components available. I'm afraid we'll have to contact the Empire for manual replacements."
Mesa lay at the bottom of the crater, rubbing his face helplessly. He wished he could contact the Dimensional Empire. He seriously doubted whether they had forgotten about him, their so-called emperor, or whether anyone knew that the previous emperor had put the crown prince on the spaceship.
Using Earthling logic, he speculated: The emperor is whoever has the strongest army!
The emperor is gone; could the rebel army have established a new dynasty?
Or perhaps the struggle for power has ended, a regional lord has ascended the throne, and when they find him, they declare him a remnant of the previous dynasty and execute him. Could it be that famous voyages were to find his grandson, and Dimensional's unification of the galaxy was to search for him?
Mesa set aside his wild thoughts. The best thing now was to find a path to Earth and live the happy life of a wealthy man. He was content with this!
A buzzing vibration reached his ears. He rolled over, and in the cracks at the bottom of the crater he had created, there seemed to be some flashing light.
Mesa clenched his fist and slammed it into the crevice. The pit collapsed, creating a bottomless abyss, with small pieces of earth and rock falling from all sides, as if being swallowed by a gaping maw.
With his superhuman vision, Mesa could see a shimmering blue light floating outside the opening. Cautiously, he didn't immediately enter.
His earlier exertion, while strong, wasn't enough to create such a deep crater; it was likely a pre-existing pit created by his initial fall. Flying directly in wouldn't be wise; what if he capsized?
He returned to the spaceship: "Minister, does the spaceship have any equipment capable of detection?"
"We can try with the robot," the AI suggested. The hatch opened, and a small, cube-headed, bipedal robot emerged.
"I'll upload the mental model, and then we can transmit signals remotely."
Mesa sat in the cabin. The robot's observation image appeared, and the AI maneuvered it down into the pit, slowly sliding to the bottom. Everything was calm and uneventful.
His vision shifted to the object emitting blue light at the bottom; from the image, it looked like a sphere.
"The scan shows this place is empty; there shouldn't be anything here," the AI reported as it checked the transmitted data.
Mesa frowned. "Did you detect any energy field? Is there any record of similar objects in the knowledge base?"
"No, no abnormal data. We've never encountered anything similar in the history of the Dimensional Planet."
Tapping on the spaceship's panel, Mesa decided to go and see for himself. He'd had enough of the uneventful five years he'd spent there, and the Dimensional Empire hadn't encountered many threatening things during its years of expansion. Surely the few threats he faced weren't hiding on this random planet.
He maintained a steady descent, landing firmly on solid ground. The small robot beside him jumped onto his shoulder, and the AI's voice came through it: "Be careful, Your Majesty, I haven't detected any data yet." It was glowing without any energy dissipation; even a fool could tell something was wrong.
In Mesa's eyes, the sphere resembled swirling gas, reminding him of aerogel from his high school textbooks.
The swirling mist, like tentacles reaching out, coiled around him. Mesa extended a finger to touch it.
"Warning, warning... Energy coefficient anomaly…"
The world spun around him; Mesa felt as if he'd been thrown into a washing machine. Light twisted and stretched, everything in sight disintegrated, and even the AI's voice was distorted.
When he recovered, a blue planet stood out, a blazing yellow star burning behind it, scattering light and heat.
His cells thirstily absorbed energy, and Mesa felt burning hot all over. His senses instantly traversed several dimensions: car horns, shouts from pedestrians, the shattering of dishes, neon lights filling his vision, countless faces.
From snowshoe hares hopping in the Arctic to penguins flapping their wings in the Antarctic, all information converged on him.
"Earth…" Mesa closed his eyes tightly, struggling to control his mind. The robot carrying the AI on his shoulder was almost speechless.
"This… is impossible…"
The world had changed.