Adopting kids with Multiverse Cafe

The next thing Rockwell knew when he opened his eyes was that he was somewhere entirely different. A beautiful place.

" Hm? "

He found himself standing in a cozy yet spacious café lounge. The furnishings, the ambiance—everything screamed café, but an unusually charming one. Towering floor-to-ceiling windows filled the room with soft sunlight, spilling in from the lush garden outside. The green crowns of trees and swaying blades of grass painted a serene picture beyond the glass. Inside, the décor was a symphony of warm, muted tones. Large, velvety sofas and armchairs in delicate shades lined the walls, inviting visitors to sink into their plushness for hours of relaxed conversation. In a distant corner, a few oversized beanbag chairs added an extra touch of casual comfort, creating little havens for those seeking solitude. Flat-screen televisions dotted the perimeter, discreetly positioned, ready to entertain anyone who sought them. The entire café exuded an aura of tranquility and welcome.

Rockwell turned slowly, absorbing every detail of the inviting space. Behind him stood an impressive bar counter, built with an air of seriousness that felt at odds with the café's homely vibe. The counter was high, reaching a height that allowed him to stand behind it comfortably, yet the bar stools in front were equally tall, anticipating a bustling crowd. For a moment, he puzzled over why such a cozy place would require something so grand, but he let the thought drift, choosing instead to study the rest of the room.

The polished wood floors beneath his feet gleamed with warmth, perfectly complementing the inviting atmosphere. Every step seemed to echo a soft harmony, as though the natural material beneath him had been chosen to amplify the room's homely character. The sunlight pouring through the windows bathed everything in a soft, golden glow, blending seamlessly with the café's warm tones. It was almost magical how the light played with the colors, making the room feel even more peaceful.

It was stunning, yes. But as much as he admired the surroundings, he couldn't shake the awareness that he was trespassing. The café wasn't open yet, and the last thing he needed was to be caught in someone's private space. He took a step forward, his movement deliberate and measured. Strangely, his body felt unusually fluid—his neck, especially, stretched out more easily than he remembered. He lifted his gaze to the ceiling.

Bright white. The ceiling was high, fitted with lamps in the corners and a grand central chandelier that seemed to watch over the room with quiet grace. Whoever had designed this place, it was as if they knew he'd show up here. The thought lingered, a strange comfort settling over him.

He should be in court, not here. His friend say nothing about it. But he do say, that he don't know what happen to people after they leave him. So, where is he?

It was then that he noticed something else. A faint pressure in his chest. Oddly enough, he hadn't realized it until he started moving. His curiosity piqued, Rockwell lowered his head and glanced at his chest.

A light armor vest hugged Rockwell's chest, and at its center, something jutted out awkwardly, almost like an eyesore. From his angle, he could make out a rounded object with a silver rim. He couldn't yet discern what lay at its core.

"What is this?" he muttered, touching it gingerly with his fingers. He tapped the sides, careful not to press the middle. It was cold, metallic. The entire vest felt unnaturally large, and they did fine job finding, because this fit him. But who were "they"? And how had he come to wear something so foreign?

The lack of his shadow friend left him without a means of figuring it out quickly. "I just hope the owner of this place doesn't freak out when they find an uninvited guest," Rockwell mused aloud. Reluctantly, he tore his eyes away from the strange vest and looked toward the door. Like everything in the café, the door was generously sized—well, by most standards. He'd still have to duck a little to pass through, but only slightly. That was a relief.

Without wasting any time, Rockwell moved toward the exit, silently hoping it wasn't locked and that his sudden appearance here wasn't a breach of some law. He dreaded explaining how he'd entered the café in the first place—especially since he had no idea himself. As he walked, his gaze shifted to the panoramic windows, offering him a stunning view of the forest outside. The sight made him question whether the café was situated deep in some secluded woodland or if the surroundings were merely an illusion.

Reaching the door, he grabbed the doorknob, ducked slightly, and stepped outside. His purple sunglasses helped him adjust to the brightness, and what greeted him was nothing short of breathtaking.

A lush, green forest, softly kissed by sunlight, stretched out before him. A crystal-clear stream gurgled nearby, its gentle sounds mingling with the peaceful rustle of leaves. Rockwell's boots hit the smooth cobblestone path, leading him toward a small but picturesque waterfall in the distance. Cool water cascaded down into the stream, filling the air with a soothing ambiance. The entire place radiated harmony, as if untouched by the chaos of the world. He inhaled deeply, savoring the fresh, earthy scent of the woods. "Wow..." he whispered, awestruck by the beauty surrounding him.

Turning back, he took a good look at the establishment behind him—a large brick building, simple in design, with broad windows and neatly tended flowerbeds. Nothing particularly striking, yet its location amplified its charm. It was a single-story building, but wide and expansive, perfectly nestled into the landscape.

"The owner certainly picked a beautiful spot for this place," Rockwell remarked, casting one last glance at the magnificent view before him. A little farther off, he noticed another rooftop peeking through the trees—likely the owner's residence. His thoughts drifted back to the vest strapped to his chest. His eyes returned to the strange metal object protruding from it. "What is this?"

Absentmindedly, he ran a finger along the metal edges, pondering its purpose. "What if..." he murmured, curiosity getting the better of him. Without thinking too much, he tapped the center of the object with his index finger, just to see what would happen.

* Beep*

"What?"

And right in front of his face, the screen turned on. A hologram, flying, no screen, no touchscreen or anything. "A projector?" he gibbered, but for that there had to be a surface for the light to fall on to display what was being shown. It wasn't until five seconds later that the man noticed the "screen" in the air and what it said.

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Wielder : Rockwell Callahan

Location : Alpha-041024

Task : At the sole discretion of the Wielder

[ -▶]

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Rockwell blinked. Then blinked again, then scratched his head in incomprehension. A high-tech vest he had to admit it could produce holograms like this. Literally out of nothing, or there was something in this thing that reproduced the whole thing. Amazing.

His name was already on it, somehow... There's something fishy going on here. And his location, "Alpha-041024," what does that mean? He's not on the ground? It's silly to assume that because he's dead. That's for sure. But that's probably the tenth time Rockwell's asked himself that question. Where is he? His eyes went to the screen in the air for answers.

And saw that arrow at the bottom.....

Callahan clicked on this " [-▶] "

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Models and Functions

Transportation

More info[...]

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From all of this, "Transportation" make him interested the most. Even though the "Model and Functions" sounds good, but for learning about this invention will be in "More Info" section. Rockwell is the guy who read the instructions in the beginning rather than playing with luck and doing a test drive without knowing anything.

So, he hoped that after clicking on this he'll have some information on how he got here... Something useful would be good.

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In the current reality designated as Alpha-041024, with user initiative, the HighTrix device is capable of providing a list of alternate universes that can be accessed and traveled in the space-time continuum.

It will be safer to stay in the established Alpha-041024 zone.

Does the Wielder wish to see the list?

[Y/N].

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" Hmm but how it's gonna happen? "He had no idea how he was going to leave this place. There was no car, no motorcycle, nothing he could leave on, or did this thing have to call a cab? That would be interesting to watch. But he hasn't figured out anything yet. All he does now is just going with the flow. Maybe that "More info" can help.

Returning to first page by sliding it, instinctive move, but it worked. He touched " More info"

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Your question, wielder?

[Use voice commands to task the question.]

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"Where am I, what is all about? Do you know anything about Judgment? "

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" Wielder's wish was granted. Wielder have a time to spend as he wished. This area and all here belongs to Wielder. "

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"Hmm... "

Rockwell closed his eyes for a second. What this could mean for him. His wish, which he'd blurted out casually in a moment of emotion. Judging by the information he had received, it had come true. But wait, just to be clear...

" Is there anyone else? And where exactly is this place located, it's not Earth, right? "

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Alpha-041024 is not Earth and has not previously been something inhabited.The wishes of the Wielders have been granted, and it all belongs to the Wielder.

Alpha-041024 has been outfitted with the best equipment and a place to live. Alpha-041024 is the nexus of all universes and mutual access is present. Wielder is free to do whatever he wishes. However, it is recommended stick to Alpha-041024 and do not leave the areas for long periods of time, for safety. "

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Yeah, so he's the only one here. But not really. So he's in the middle of everything, of all universes. that he didn't think much of, that they existed. Well, somehow that idea always sounded interesting. But whatever it is, why was he chosen for something like this? Out of over 8 billion people, it was him, a retired old soldier with regrets and disappointments. He certainly doesn't deserve it, there are people beyond that who should get it. There are people with illnesses who have spent a lifetime in pain, there are those who have never experienced love, and those who were just left to die.

But again, what made him stand out? What has he done in his life that he's put to sleep with gifts. A huge area, a house somewhere, behind that cafe, and some thing on his chest that he still doesn't know about. "Oh Dolores, I hope you will forgive me... "

What's he supposed to do? What's the point of all this.

...

...

He really don't know.

Rockwell opened his eyes.

He should take slow steps. For the beginning. " What's the name of the device on me? "

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HighTrix - is a portable library of intergalactic genetic data that allowed the wielder to alter their DNA at will and rapidly transform into a variety of different alien species, each with their own unique abilities.

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Rockwell's eyes widened in disbelief. Could it be? Was he capable of transforming? The very thought seemed both strange and exhilarating. His mind raced, intrigued by the possibilities this new ability might offer. He wanted to delve deeper, to explore this potential, but a more pressing issue suddenly demanded his attention.

A rift had opened directly in front of him.

"Hm?" Rockwell instinctively pressed the dial on his chest, causing the hologram to vanish instantly. "What's that?"

The air itself had split open, a literal crack forming out of nowhere. Within moments, the fissure disappeared, replaced by an oval-shaped portal, dark purple with white-edged borders. It resembled the portal he had passed through when leaving his shadow friend, though this one was smaller and darker—barely two meters tall.

And then, someone stepped through. A pair of shoes emerged first.

Rockwell tensed, preparing for whatever might follow. He had been told he was the only one here, but clearly, that wasn't true. A lie from this 'HighTrix' , it seemed...

His attention shifted to the portal, watching as the rest of the figure stepped through.

Could this be the true owner of the place? Rockwell had no idea how the person would react, so he readied himself, his powerful hands balling into fists.

At last, the figure fully emerged.

It was a man. Middle-aged, Caucasian, with streaks of gray in his hair. Green goggles hung loosely around his neck. He wore an unusual robe—its base color was white, but gold accents stood out prominently, especially on the ornate epaulettes. Beneath the robe, an open-fronted, light brown sleeveless shirt revealed a muscular build. A large belt with multiple pockets wrapped around his waist, while his hands were mismatched—one adorned with a knight's gauntlet, the other wearing a plain fingerless glove. In that hand, he held a cane.

Rockwell immediately thought for an aristocrat. His appearance and posture screamed nobility. The man's eyes were half-closed, giving him a calm, almost lazy air. Then he spoke.

"I never thought I'd walk on this grass again," he said, his voice smooth and confident. "But it seems I'm here to welcome a new resident—"

His words trailed off as his gaze landed on Rockwell's torso, expecting to meet his eyes. A flicker of surprise crossed his face as he realized he had to crane his neck upward to fully take in Rockwell's towering form. His expression shifted, a mixture of awe and curiosity lighting up his eyes.

"Fascinating," he breathed. "Never in my life have I seen something quite like this. This is going to be... interesting." He smiled, an aristocratic charm in his voice. "My name is Professor Paradox. And you, what is your name?"