MIT was one of the best technology universities in the world. Its laboratories housed all kinds of equipment necessary for any scientist. Electron microscopes, centrifuges, spectrometers, borosilicate glassware, chemical reagents...
—It's time to do some nighttime shopping —Noah whispered with a smile.
The laboratory he entered was dark, lit only by the moonlight streaming through the high windows. It smelled of chemical reagents and old paper. Metal shelves lined the walls, loaded with all kinds of instruments.
He began to move through the laboratory with quick motions, ransacking the place, storing everything in his 4D pocket.
His telekinesis allowed him to move several objects at once, floating them in the air before they were absorbed into the pocket. What would have taken a normal thief hours and multiple trips took him only a few minutes.
—Perfect —he murmured, watching the laboratory grow emptier by the minute.
But he needed more. Not just one laboratory, but everything necessary to set up his own. That meant workbenches, special chairs, fume hoods...
He left the laboratory and walked down the dark hallway.
The security guard, a stocky man in his forties wearing a navy blue uniform, turned the corner with a flashlight in his hand. His night shift went by with the usual monotony: hourly rounds, coffee in the surveillance room, and plenty of boredom.
Until he saw a shadow moving at the end of the hallway.
—Hello? —he called out, raising the flashlight—. Is someone there?
The shadow didn't flee. On the contrary, it advanced toward him.
The guard narrowed his eyes, trying to focus on the approaching figure. It was... a child? No, it couldn't be. Maybe a very short student, or...
Noah stopped three meters away, looking at him with a calm expression.
—Good evening —he said politely.
The guard blinked, bewildered. —Hey, what are you doing here at this hour? The labs are closed, students can't...
Noah just moved a finger.
An invisible force struck the guard in the chest, gentle but firm, like a shove from a giant. The man fell backward, hitting his head on the floor with a dull thud. The flashlight rolled down the hallway, casting dancing shadows.
Noah approached and knelt beside him.
The man was unconscious, but still alive.
—I'm sorry —he whispered—. I can't let you interrupt my work.
The rest of the night was a systematic looting.
Noah went from building to building, guided by the floor plans posted on some of the walls.
The organic chemistry lab lost its fume hoods, its stainless steel workbenches, its adjustable chairs. The molecular biology lab contributed incubators, water baths, and a PCR thermal cycler. From the supply warehouse he took boxes of nitrile gloves, white lab coats in all sizes, safety goggles, masks.
He even visited the library, where he "borrowed" hundreds of books and scientific journals. Everything that seemed useful, everything he might need in the coming years, disappeared into the 4D pocket.
When the sky began to lighten in the east, Noah stopped on the roof of one of the buildings, gazing at the campus he had plundered.
—Enough for tonight —he said, satisfied.
He opened a portal to a new world.
Before crossing, he looked back one last time. MIT, the cradle of innovation and knowledge, had contributed generously to his future laboratory.
—Thanks for the donations —he murmured with a mischievous smile.
He stepped forward and the portal closed behind him, reappearing in the middle of a narrow alley, surrounded by concrete walls covered in dirt and graffiti.
The next world he chose to visit was that of a fantasy movie called Sorcerer's Apprentice.
He walked to the end of the alley, and just as he was about to leave it, a crumpled piece of paper floated toward him, carried by the wind.
From the corner of the alley, a boy between ten and twelve years old appeared, running after the paper. Noah watched as the boy struggled to catch it.
For an instant, the idea of knocking the boy unconscious and assuming his identity as Merlin's chosen one crossed his mind. But he dismissed it seconds later. There was no need to rush the story; he didn't want to alter the natural flow of events too much.
He simply watched him for a few moments, assessing, and then began to follow him from a distance, maintaining a simple and effective plan: let the plot unfold while he remained ready to reap the good things when the right opportunity arose.
The boy chased the paper until he stopped in front of an old door, wedged between two buildings. Just as he was about to catch it, the paper slipped through the mail slot and disappeared inside.
The boy hesitated, unsure what to do.
He looked to both sides of the street and, after a few seconds of hesitation, pushed the door open.
A small bell rang softly.
The interior looked like an antique shop from another era. Shelves crammed to the ceiling, objects piled up in no apparent order, broken clocks, statuettes, books bound in cracked leather. The air smelled of dust and old metal.
From outside, Noah watched from a distance. He didn't need to go inside to know what would happen next.
Dave walked forward a few steps, his eyes shining with curiosity, until something caught his attention.
An Arabian lamp, worn by time.
He took it in his hands and began to rub it, mimicking the gesture almost by reflex. At that moment, a small misplaced metal plate fell, hitting another object. That one pushed a third.
One after another, several artifacts began to fall in a clumsy, noisy chain reaction.
The boy stepped back startled when a dark, sinister-looking urn wobbled dangerously on a high shelf and almost crashed down on him.
A hand stopped it in midair.
The boy looked up.
In front of him stood the shop owner: a tall man with a sharp face, piercing eyes, and a trench coat that seemed out of place in the 21st century.
Balthazar Blake held the urn with one hand and observed it calmly.
—The second emperor of the Han Dynasty locked his least favorite wife in this urn for ten years —he said in a calm voice—. Exactly ten.
He lowered his gaze to the boy.
—They say that if you open it, the same will happen to you.
—I'm sorry —said the boy—. I'm looking for this note. Have you seen it? It just… flew into your shop.
Balthazar walked calmly toward the counter.
—A note?
—Yes. It came in here. It was just a…
—…a coincidence? —Balthazar finished, looking at him attentively.
The boy nodded, somewhat uncomfortable.
—Yes. A coincidence.
Balthazar was silent for a second. Then he smiled, as if he had just made a decision.
—I have something I'd like to show you, Dave.
The boy blinked.
—How do you know my name?
—Because I can read minds —he replied without flinching.
A moment later he added, pointing at his back:
—It's on your backpack.
Dave turned awkwardly, rummaging until he found the tag with his name. When he looked forward again, Balthazar was already taking a small mahogany box from one of the counter drawers.
—Come —he said, gesturing to him.
Dave approached cautiously.
Balthazar opened the box. Inside rested a small metal figure in the shape of a dragon, intricately designed, with a green gem embedded in its back.
—This is very special —he said—. And if it likes you, you can keep it.
Dave hesitated a few seconds before closing his hand around the dragon.
Suddenly, the dragon came to life and climbed up his index finger and, with a fluid movement, coiled around it. The metal deformed, adjusting itself, until it became a ring.
Dave stood frozen, his eyes wide open.
—It can't be…
Balthazar exhaled slowly, clearly relieved.
—I've been searching for a long time —he said, placing his hands on the boy's shoulders—. And magically… here you are.
He pointed at the ring.
—That means something, Dave. It means that one day you will be a very important sorcerer.
Then he turned around, heading toward the back of the shop.
—And your first lesson begins right now, with your own Enchantus. Don't move. Don't touch anything.
He walked calmly down the stairs, disappearing from view.