When John opened his eyes, he saw a woman lying beside him.
He remained silent for three seconds. Once he confirmed these memories belonged to the previous occupant, he began looking around.
Normally, the Memory Sarcophagus drew people into an immersive experience, but thanks to his powerful mind and the fact that he was entering someone else's memories, John could retain his own thoughts within them.
This was a modern home, with white sheets and spotless white walls.
Photographs stood on the table.
Looking closely, John saw a face both unfamiliar and familiar.
The man had a short beard, reddish-brown eyes, and slightly long hair.
A grown-up John Wick.
He stared blankly for two seconds before hearing movement beside him.
The woman nestled closer to John, burying her face in his chest.
"Good morning, John."
John stiffened and replied awkwardly, "Good morning."
The woman's name surfaced automatically in his mind. Helen.
As he looked at her charming expression, memories of her flooded his mind.
Helen Wick.
The wife of the man whose memories these were.
Helen rested against John's chest, quietly savoring this sweet moment with her husband.
"This is wonderful."
"What is?" John asked.
Helen looked up at him and smiled. "Being together."
The couple got out of bed.
John stood before the mirror, wearing a white T-shirt and trousers.
He touched his beard. It was a little prickly, but after a while, he rather got used to it.
Me as an adult? John's thoughts churned. More like me from another world.
An unexpected discovery.
He had thought he would see the Half-Vampire or the woman who nullified magic, never expecting to see himself from another world instead.
It was similar to what Mycroft had described, but a little different.
His other self here was neither wounded nor bedraggled.