Mysterious Person

On the soft down bed, Martin Stein was half-sunk into the plush mattress, his face gaunt, dark circles under his eyes, and his brow furrowed tightly. He looked twenty years older than his actual age.

'Ring ring ring...'

The telephone in the hall rang.

He was a scholar who preferred a classical aesthetic. His elegant home, his study that exuded the scent of sandalwood, and even the hall, which had a somewhat classical feel, all carried the refined, dark tone of antique rosewood. Even the telephone was a black rotary dial model from the 1930s.

His tired face twitched. He groaned, exhausted, and turned his head on the bed, pressing his throbbing temple. The ringing sounded like acupuncture needles piercing his brain. His weary body wanted to ignore the ringing, but the sound was too loud. Even from the bedroom, the piercing ring cut through the walls, as if trying to bore into his head, causing him immense pain and unbearable irritation.

He tossed and turned on the bed several times, trying to cover his head with the blanket, then with a pillow. His headache intensified. He covered his ears with his hands, the rising frustration making even him, a usually good-tempered scholar, unable to bear it. With no other option, he gritted his teeth, groaned, cursed "F***U," and then, shaking his aching head with his weary face, threw off the covers and got out of bed.

His foot touched a slipper on the cold floor. He didn't have the energy to find its mate, which had been kicked somewhere. He just put on the one slipper and, looking tired and haggard, pressed his head as he shuffled his body towards the living room.

A series of recent events had left his emotional and mental state in a very poor condition.

Firstly, for some reason, he often found himself in unfamiliar places or environments without any memory of how he got there. It was as if he had amnesia combined with somnambulism, unable to control his own actions. As these confused episodes occurred more frequently, he became bewildered by his own body. Unable to find an explanation, he concluded that he was aging rapidly and entering the final stage of his life.

Slowly, he became addicted to alcohol, descending into self-neglect and self-destruction.

Then there were the reporters, various companies, and even some personnel from the US FBI who, for reasons unknown to him, were constantly staking out his house, desperately trying to discuss the development of 'Controlled Nuclear Fusion' with him, and trying with all their might to invite him to develop nuclear fusion.

He figured this was probably another result of his somnambulism and amnesia, something he did while sleepwalking.

Because while he was awake, he had never researched controlled nuclear fusion, let alone being nominated for the next Nobel Prize.

But controlled nuclear fusion, something he had never done, nor had he given any speeches in Central City about future energy or becoming a great man of the century.

It was a lie, a bubble, a lie that would burst at the slightest touch. Martin Stein didn't even dare to admit that he had done these things while sleepwalking.

In reality, he had no memory of any of it.

Martin Stein believed he was finished.

"Get lost..."

Martin Stein, dragging one bare foot, stepped onto the cold wooden floor. He still held half a bottle of vodka, grabbed from the refrigerator in the hall, in his hand from his drunken stupor. Even without drinking it, just holding it made him feel three parts drunk.

He picked up the receiver. There was no trace of his usual refined tone; he had become a drunken sot.

"Dr. Martin Stein, I know your situation."

Martin Stein ignored him. After saying "Get lost," he intended to hang up. Even hearing the voice on the other end say they knew his situation didn't make him pause. Who didn't know his situation? He was a drunken bum!

"I understand that you often have periods of missing memory."

Martin Stein's spirits jolted. He snapped out of his drunken daze. His headache seemed to focus more intensely, the pain constricting him for a moment. Many people knew he had become a drunkard, but no one knew the cause, not even himself.

"What happened to me?" Martin Stein quickly brought the receiver, which he had held halfway in the air, back to his ear and asked urgently.

He desperately wanted to know what had happened to him.

Why would he suddenly appear in a strange place with no memory? It all made him sleepless and restless. After failing to find any answers, he had begun to give up on himself and become agitated.

"You merged with another person and became Firestorm."

"Ronnie Raymond was at your nuclear power facility when it exploded, at the scene with you."

"At the moment of the explosion, you merged into one. For the specific details, you can find him to understand, and that will be enough to reach a conclusion."

Martin Stein suddenly felt like he was in a fantasy. His alcohol-addled brain seemed to start spinning, his vision blurring. His headache flared up violently again, tormenting one side of his head. He pressed his temples hard and sat down on the sofa with great effort.

He merged with another person???

Merged???

"That's impossible!"

"Nothing is impossible! Dr. Martin Stein, go find Ronnie Raymond and try it, and you'll know the result."

"Alright, you've convinced me. I'll verify what you've said."

Martin Stein frowned helplessly, feeling his headache worsen.

"Also, Dr. Martin Stein, I have mailed most of the 'Controlled Nuclear Fusion' data to your home. It should have arrived by now. For the rest, you can work it out with Firestorm."

"Congratulations, Dr. Martin Stein. You will bring controlled nuclear fusion energy to humanity and become a great man of the century."

"It's you! Who are you?"

"Good question, who am I? I really do need a catchy nickname. Let's call me Silver Glow! We will meet in the future. You don't need to thank me, Dr. Martin. Goodbye."

Martin Stein held the receiver, his mouth hanging open in a daze, a thousand questions swirling in his mind, wanting to clarify everything.

Who was Silver Glow? Why did he know so much about him? Was it him who had impersonated him, causing him so much trouble by publishing about 'Controlled Nuclear Fusion'?

Could he really merge with another person? And merge into Firestorm? What was the principle behind that? From the perspective of biological rejection... or even just at the atomic level...

Martin Stein's mind transformed back into that of a rational scientist, a flood of unclear questions erupting.

What in the world was going on?