Laying back in his office chair, he stared up at that plaque.

He could have scoffed at it, it was so meaningless to him.

He was a genius and it was wasted on him running in this inane family business.

People were not his strong-suit. He hated people.

The whining and complaining all day, every day about all their aches and pains. Not to mention the occasional surgeries at the hospital and the check ups and the ridiculous paperwork he had to go through day in and day out.

'A waste of my precious time'

All he wanted to do was go home and begin the next phase of his REAL work.

Medicine was the family business but his heart would always belong to something MORE. He wanted to go into mechanics and physics and strange phenomena. 

Medicine was something that was known and learned and teachable. He wanted so much more than that. He wanted to DISCOVER.

"Dr. Schneeplestein?"

He didn't even flinch at the voice on his intercom.

" . . .. yes?" he drawled in his tired German accent.

"Mrs. Richards is here to see you again about that nasty boil on her hooter"

He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Vhy can't she just go to the gynecologist that I referred her to?"

"She says you're better. Ain't that sweet, Dr. Hen?" the secretary mocked.

"Henrik. My name is Henrik and you vill not call me that, remember? I've told you a million times, Mrs. Bernett, you vill CALL me Dr. Schneeplestein!"

" . . . yeah, yeah, whatever. You coming out of your office or not? She's your only patient today. It's amazing you can keep this clinic open at all"

Henrik shut off the intercom and crossed his arms, rolling his eyes, "Oh, how I WISH it'd just burn to the ground already"

Henrik hated his life. He was a hateful man. 

Doomed to suffer with what his father always wanted for him. After all, his father was the one with the money and until the old man croaked, he was stuck 'living the dream' taking care of patient after patient with mounds of useless paperwork.

His father had even started to subjugate Henrik's family to bend to his wishes, forcing his own little grand-daughter to learn more about anatomy already than most kids.

Henrik's daughter, little Olivia, was only five but knew all the names of the human's body's organs and what the main functions of what they did already. Her grandfather gifted her toy doctor playsets and even a dead frog to dissect last year.

Henrik's wife had enough of his family, though, and chose to live apart from him until he could 'grow a backbone already'.

Henrik knew he couldn't do that though. No, not if he wanted the family fortune. He hoped one day his lovely Eva would understand and forgive him.

Only THEN could he live out the rest of his life in peace doing what he loved with the people he loved. The ONLY people. After Henrik's mother died several years ago, he only ever considered his wife and daughter his family.

Henrik was finally done for the day, finishing up paperwork in his office with one last signature when there was a knock on his door.

He assumed it was his secretary, "Yes, you can go, Mrs. Bernett. I'm almost done here. Feel free to start locking up!"

"Not her"

Henrik lifted his head from his work, recognizing the voice. The voice of all his suffering for the last thirty years.

He opened the door only to be greeted by his father. 

Honestly, he hadn't seen him face to face in a couple of years. He didn't look good.

"Father. . . . Vhat a sorry surprise"

The older man scoffed at him in disdain, "Hen . . ..you look as full of yourself as usual. Cheating on your wife?"

"Of course not!" Henrik scowled, "I'm not some cretin like you. I actually care about my family"

"Hm. . . .  family matters are what we need to speak of. Take a seat"

Henrik felt like a child, his father telling him what to do in his own practice! In his own office!

But what choice did he have?

He sat in one of the chairs nearby and his father sat across from him, sitting slowly and carefully.

"You don't look well" Henrik commented.

"I'm not. But ve'll get to that." the older man coughed slightly and held his cane to him for more balance, "It's come to my attention that your clinic is not doing so well . . . and you're not doing surgeries anymore at your local hospital. Mind telling me why?"

Henrik shrugged but he knew this would come up eventually, "I guess I'm just not a people person like you are"

"Blasted, Hen! This isn't a game! You know what I've done for you to even get you this far?! How many strings I had to pull to get you this clinic!?" he started coughing and Henrik would have been upset with him more if he wasn't a bit concerned.

"Yes . . . . what's wrong vith you? Zhere IS something, isn't there?"

His father waved it off, still coughing.

Henrik narrowed his eyes at his father, clearly not convinced. His father always had a lot to hide but this was by far his best secret. His sickness. How had Henrik not seen it? Then again, he hadn't seen him face to face in a few years. A lot can change with a person in that time span.

"You need to build this place back up. At least fifty patients a day-"

"FIFTY?!" Henrik sputtered, "I can't even get ten to walk through zhe doors! How do you  expect-"

"ENOUGH!" His father shouted but immediately began coughing again. When he was done, he continued, "Enough . . . . . .Won't be long . . . . won't be long and one day all my own old practices will be yours . . . everything. And you can't even keep one clinic open by yourself. Shame on you"

Henrik wanted to bite his tongue so bad but for once, he just couldn't, "Perhaps medicine just isn't what I was supposed to chase"

His father glared daggers back into Henrik's eyes, "Then perhaps you do not deserve everything I've ever worked for."

"Oh really? And who else are you going to let inherit your money?"

"Believe me, I can think of many other candidates that would be more grateful zhan you!"

Henrik stood up, balling his fists, "Zhis isn't about being grateful and you know it! You've always hated my passions even though you KNOW I'm good!"

"There's no money in what you're after, son!" his father spat at him, "Is that what you want? To blow all my money on stupid dreams and the imaginary?! What you seek isn't real but medicine IS! Either you come to terms with that or you're out of my will! I will NOT let everything I've worked for go down zhe drain like this pathetic clinic of yours!"

Henrik had it, "Because it's all about money for you, yes?" he scoffed, "Your family never meant anything to you. Money, money, money, that's all you've ever cared about. You don't even care about your own grand-daughter and I'd bet my OWN money you never gave a shite about mom!"

There was a moment of silence between them. The air was so thick, you couldn't cut through it with a butter knife.

Finally, Henrik's father sighed heavily and shook his head mindlessly, "I have stage four colon cancer, Hen . . . . I have about one month left . . .maybe even less"

Henrik's chest tightened. For a minute, he actually felt bad but he couldn't take back his words. No matter how harsh, his father had to know what he was feeling for a change.

Hearing only silence in return, his father cleared his throat, "Fifty patients a day for a week . . .  if you can do that, you'll stay on my will to inherit it all . . . but you should know . . .the money only goes to you and through the bank first. The bank insures that my money will only be used for my medical legacy"

Henrik closed his eyes in defeat, "Of course it does  . .. . of course you'd do something so fucking selfish . . . get out of my office."

His father coughed but there was a small laugh behind it, "You mean MY office? I'm the one that bought this building for you and if it wasn't for me-"

That was it.

"I said. . . .  LEAVE MY FUCKING OFFICE! GET OUT OF MY LIFE! I DON'T VANT YOUR FUCKING MONEY! TAKE ME OFF YOUR WILL IF YOU WANT! I DON'T FUCKING CARE ANYMORE! YOU CAN ROT IN FUCKING HELL FOR ALL I CARE, OLD MAN! I'M DONE!"

Henrik ripped his white coat off and flung it in front of his father before stomping out the door, slamming it behind him.

He didn't even look back once. He didn't care.

Henrik just got into his car and drove off.

Once he got home, he lost it completely, smashing any and all frames he had of his father in them, ripping up any work papers and even his phD in medicine.

'This life you've always vanted for me . . . . I'm fucking DONE.'

He eyes his basement door.

'I vill not waste my life for YOU . . . anymore'

Henrik found himself going down the basement steps where his project lay. He was working on something big and even if he didn't get his father's money, perhaps this invention of his could help.

He'd find a way to be able to do what he loved.

And what he loved, was working on his latest project.

A long time ago, he found something he shouldn't have and lead to this. What he found was a broken half of some strange mask that gave off insane readings of things that weren't even on the periodic table. He could touch it and take small samples here and there but he could never wear it.

The last time he tried to put it on, he saw strange things he couldn't explain. Like he was seeing through someone else's eyes.

He had to learn more.

And thus became his invention. 

The Pheno Reactor. 

Whatever this mask was made of, it gave off immense strange energy that he was able to extract bits and pieces at a time.

Unfortunately, the equipment he needed to contain this energy was expensive so here and there, he'd launder money from the clinic to buy what he needed.

He was just lucky his father hadn't found out yet.

'This energy could help zhe WORLD. . .. . could do so much good' it pained Henrik that he still had to keep it a secret but he did what he had to do.

He was on his computer now, gathering up the latest data from the Reactor.

'Levels are pretty much zhe same. No changes. The containment is pretty much at its limit, though. If I extracted any more, I just might have a catastrophe on my hands'

In theory, Henrik had worked out that the Reactor now held even more energy than even the Tsar Bomb, which was strong enough to obliterate a 150 miles radius area. If he let loose the Phenomena Reactor's power, he estimated it might just reach over a radius of 300 miles.

And he was keeping it in his basement with no help or supervision.

But it wouldn't be kept in more capable hands. Henrik was a genius, the Nikola Tesla of his generation and he would figure this element out if it was the last thing he did.

'Good new is, if it did blow, I'd never even know it.' he thought to himself, 'Everyone around for 300 miles would die, too, though. I need to figure out what zhis is. . . . perhaps I should try to wear the mask again . . . .'

His eyes got lost in the numbers on his screen and Henrik's mind wandered off, thinking about all the possibilities that could happen and everything that could go wrong.

He thought it was just his eyes.

A trick of the mind. Did he fall asleep?

All he could see on his screen was this strange   . . . wormhole.

He narrowed his eyes at it, confused, "Vhat?" he tried to click somewhere with his mouse but nothing was working.

But the more he stared into it, the more he realized.

This wasn't his computer acting up.

He glanced over at the mask in the glass box he kept it in.

It was vibrating.

'Vhat is happening? I didn't do anything new. This shouldn't  . ..' he couldn't really think, though and just stood up from his seat.

The wormhole was making this strange sound.

It almost came out of his screen, the ethereal presence of it seeping through out of its own world and into his.

The sounds were like . . whisping . . . . winds? No . . . whispers?

It was mainly purple with other colors twirling around and black in the center like a black hole.

'Is zhat what it is?! Did I accidentally create a black hole?!'

"Maaaaaas"

Henrik knew he heard something there but he stayed away from the computer, afraid of what might happen, "Wh . ..  what?"

It took a few seconds but the voice spoke again. Yes . . . it was a voice.

"Maaaaasssskkkkk"

Henrik didn't know how but he understood.

"You . . . you vant me to put on zhe mask?"

The wormhole seemed to glow as if affirming what he said.

Henrik nodded, "Right . . ..  of course. . .. . just another day hard at work in my basement . . .  talking to a wormhole zhat . . . zhat wants me to put on a broken mask that makes me see things that aren't zhere"

The noise grew louder and he jumped out of his chair, "O-okay . . okay" he didn't know what else to do. This was complete new territory. 

But as soon as he reached the mask in the glass container, it immediately stopped vibrating and instead, floated within it's confinements.

His heart was racing, unable to control his mix of emotions.

"Alright, Hen . . . . this could either go really good . . . ..  or really bad. . . . ."

But finally, he took the mask in his hands. 

Was this really a good idea? Should he really listen to the strange voice in his computer and put on the previously vibrating mask full of energy that could wipe out a third of the state of Rhode Island.

But Henrik just closed his eyes tight and took a quick breathe, quickly placing the half of the mask over his dominant eye. He opened his right eye only.

But he wasn't in his basement anymore.

He was at a desk and the only light in the room was by a small candle. The desk wooden and had several scratch marks on it but that's not what caught his eye. On the desk was a piece of paper.

'Those look like . . . . coordinates?'

But just as quickly as it came, he was back in his basement but the coordinates were burned in his mind.

As fast as he could, he bolted back over to his computer and grabbed a piece of paper by it, taking full note of the no longer present wormhole.

'53.760097, -9.115124' Henrik remembered numbers better than he remembered faces, 'I have to go here . . . whatever reason this was shown to me, it's important.' he glanced over to his reactor.

"And that means that for now, my project must cease . . . ."

He obviously found something and he couldn't wait one more second to figure out what it was. He was in the next stage of his journey and he wasn't about to let his father get in his way this time.

He turned off the Reactor and set to work to get packed.

The next morning, he was all packed and ready to go. He had a flight booked and ready and everything and luckily enough, there weren't any busy flights were he was going so there were plenty of openings right away.

He was already just boarding the plane when his phone rang.

'Damn thing. It's probably father wanting to yell at me again. Keep your money, old man. I'm done with you'

But when he looked at the caller I.D., he was confused.

'I don't recognize this number but it doesn't look like spam, either'

Giving in, he answered the call, "Yes, yes? Hello?"

"Is this Henrik Schneeplestein?"

". . . . Yes? Can I ask who is calling?"

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, sir, but Mr. Schneeplestein, your father . . . . ."

Henrik's heart dropped, "Vhat . . . what about my father?"

There was a heavy sigh on the other end, "He passed away early this morning."

Henrik honestly didn't know whether to be happy or sad.

There was a brick in his stomach, though . . . 

Why?

For once, Henrik didn't know what to feel or think. He always waited and expected for this moment to come . . . but it was so fast all of a sudden.

There was a pain in his chest.

"Sir?"

"I uh . .  I'm here. . . I'm here"

"May I ask where exactly you are?"

"Uh . . . I'm actually on a plane. ..  I had a flight to go to Mayo County in Ireland this morning."

"Well that trip's gonna have to wait, sir. You'll have to come down to the station now"

"Vhat? Why?"

"Because you're a suspect. And if you don't come in now, you'll be detained"