"Walter, what did you do with the sword?" Peter asked, his concern deepening as he surveyed the wreckage of the lab the next morning. The once barely controlled chaos had spiraled into absolute mayhem. The walls, floor, and even the ceiling were inexplicably stained with licorice, delicate equipment lay scattered and broken, random patches of marshmallow clung to surfaces, and—most concerningly—a gaping hole marred one of the walls. His headache from yesterday was already making an unwelcome return.
"This? This is just a minor mess, my boy," Walter said with a dismissive wave of his hand. He was seated at the same table where, just yesterday, he had conjured the mysterious box of licorice. At the moment, however, he was more focused on eating a plate of... blue waffles.
"Minor? Walter, this lab is a complete disaster!" Peter exclaimed, exasperation clear in his voice. "What in the world have you done? And also—what is that supposed to be?" He pointed at the peculiar waffles on Walter's plate.
"I already told you—I'm testing the limits of the sword," Walter replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. As he spoke, the White Tulip materialized effortlessly in his free hand, its presence as enigmatic as ever. His eyes gleamed with that familiar, reckless curiosity—the same insatiable drive that had led to countless breakthroughs on fringe cases they encountered. Without another word, he casually dematerialized the sword again and resumed eating, entirely unbothered by the destruction surrounding him.
"Hey—what happened here?" Astrid asked as she and Olivia stepped into the lab, both stopping briefly to take in the sheer chaos surrounding them.
As they approached the father-son duo, Olivia silently handed Peter a piece of bread and a cup of coffee, a small gesture of sympathy for whatever ordeal he had just endured.
Accepting the much-needed sustenance, Peter let out a weary sigh. "I think Walter decided to conduct some late-night experiments on his own," he said, gesturing at the disaster zone that had once been their lab.
Walter, entirely unbothered, took another bite of his blue waffle and remarked, "Tripping on acid while possessing the ability to turn delusions into reality is, in hindsight, a rather poor decision."
"That explains it," Astrid said, taking in the wreckage with a resigned nod.
"Anyway, I'd advise you all to stay far away from that hole," Walter continued, gesturing toward the large, gaping void in the wall. "I may have, ah… accidentally realbooted a white hole over there. If you get too close, you'll be launched into space at the speed of light."
To emphasize his point, he casually picked up an empty cup and tossed it toward the hole. The moment it reached the edge, it vanished in an instant—accompanied by a sharp sonic boom as it was hurled into the cosmos faster than human eyes could track.
Unbeknownst to him, the cup's sudden departure would soon have catastrophic consequences, triggering the destruction of several distant star systems.
As the team gathered around Walter, the weight of his latest experiment pressed down on them. The White Tulip was both an extraordinary scientific breakthrough and a potential catastrophe waiting to unfold. They had no choice but to tread carefully, balancing on the razor-thin edge between genius and madness—the very space Walter so often thrived in.
Walter, ever the relentless explorer of the unknown, had already devised a series of tests to unlock the White Tulip's full potential. His eyes gleamed with unrestrained excitement as he raised the pristine artifact toward the sterile glow of the lab's fluorescent lights.
"Today, we push the boundaries of reality," he proclaimed, his voice brimming with conviction.
Astrid folded her arms, skepticism etched into her features. "Are you absolutely sure this is a good idea, Walter?" she asked, her concern unmistakable. She had witnessed firsthand the consequences of his unchecked curiosity—the sentient tentacles, the exploding leaf—memories she would rather not relive.
"Absolutely, Astrid," Walter replied without hesitation. "Think of the possibilities! We could reshape reality itself!"
"Or destroy it," Peter muttered under his breath, arms crossed as he kept a wary eye on his father. He had seen this unbridled excitement before, and it rarely ended well.
The first test was simple: altering the color of an apple. Walter focused intently on the fruit, his brow furrowing in concentration. A moment later, the apple's red skin seamlessly shifted to a striking, almost unnatural shade of blue. The transformation was flawless—a quiet but undeniable demonstration of the White Tulip's power.
"Remarkable," Olivia murmured, her voice tinged with both admiration and apprehension. "But how far can you really take this, Walter?"
"Let's find out," Walter responded with a grin. His confidence was unshakeable, his enthusiasm boundless.
The next test was far more ambitious: altering the very composition of a metal bar, transforming it from steel into pure gold. Walter's expression grew intense, his eyes narrowing in focus as he channeled the power of the White Tulip. Slowly, the steel bar began to shimmer, its surface rippling like liquid metal before solidifying into gleaming gold.
"Unbelievable," Peter whispered, unable to look away from the transformed object. The implications of such power sent a chill down his spine. "Walter, this kind of ability… it's too dangerous."
"Nonsense!" Walter scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. "Anything can be dangerous in the right hands."
Undeterred, he pressed forward to the final test—one that would push the White Tulip's capabilities even further. He envisioned something grander, more advanced: a lab beyond anything they had ever worked in before, equipped with cutting-edge technology. As he concentrated, the air crackled with unseen energy. The walls of the lab began to shift, expanding outward, their structure reshaping itself with impossible fluidity. Equipment upgraded before their very eyes, transforming into state-of-the-art machinery.
Walter exhaled in awe, his voice barely above a whisper. "Magnificent... The possibilities are limitless."