[ WP ] A parallel world just like Earth except you gain the memories of everything you digest . All humans have this trait and it applies to all vegetables , fungi and animal `` memories '' .

Thomas Hendricks was excited. No, that would be an understatement. Thomas Hendricks was ecstatic. He was over the moon. His every exhalation resounded with joy as he bounded across the Oxford campus green. 
 
 Thomas had made it. It had taken him years of diligent study, all those long nights in the library, rarely a moment to himself, to sleep, to bathe, to eat. That all changed today. He'd finally made it. He had passed all the tests, aced the practical exam, he'd even come out of that strange medical exam with flying colors. Nothing could bring Thomas down today, as he trod purposefully up the great granite steps to the H. Bosworth Biology Building. He was off to meet the great Doctor Reginald Bosworth the 3rd, grandson of the building's namesake, Sir Herbert Bosworth, one of the founding members of Oxford. 
 
 Thomas checked his watch. 9:55, five minutes till his meeting with one of the greatest medical doctors the world had ever known. Thomas quickened his pace. Doctor Bosworth was not one to be kept waiting, simply by virtue of his advanced age. Time was precious for the 102 year old Doctor, as Thomas well knew. So precious in fact that Thomas had only met him once for a few brief seconds at the end of his final interview with the medical board at Oxford. Thomas remembered that day well. He had shuffled in at the end of the last battery of questions, before one of the board had whispered into the aged doctor's ear. Bosworth had nodded almost imperceptibly, before rasping `` He'll do'' and shuffling back out of the room. 
 
 Thomas found himself almost beaming as he thought of that moment, as he bounded up the steps to the main ampitheater, where he was to meet the great Bosworth. Never before had a medical student been taken into fellowship with the Bosworth line. Yet never in the medical profession had their been such a prolific name as the Bosworths. Herbert had discovered numerous neurological maladies. Robert, his son, had gone on to cure many of them. And now his son, Reginald, was on the cusp of discovering a cure for cancer. 
 
 These are exciting times, thought Thomas, clasping the door handle of the medical theater firmly in his hand. His stomach gave one last burbling growl. Not now, though Thomas, now is a time to make history. He flung the door wide, and stepped valiantly in. 
 
 Thomas squinted in the brightly lit amphitheater. The semi-circular room was sterile, but well lit. Looming over him in the stands sat the medical board of Oxford. 
 
 `` Thomas!'' the Chairman greeted warmly, `` How wonderful you're here, and promptly on time too. Your fellowship begins today.'' 
 
 The chairman gestured to the floor. Two fully scrubbed orderlies stepped out from the eves of the amphitheater. One moved to the center of the room where a thin privacy curtain veiled the central operating table, the the only furniture of the amphitheater. He drew the curtain back, and Thomas gasped. On the table lay Doctor Bosworth, trussed uncomfortably, but not struggling. The orderly placed an apple in his mouth and the doctor bit down. 
 
 Thomas stood aghast, `` What is this?'' he gibbered, `` What have you done to the good doctor?!'' 
 
 The rounded chairman chuckled, `` Nothing that time has not already done to him, my dear boy, the good doctor is old. We need a new doctor, his work must go on.'' 
 
 The second orderly unveiled a table of instruments. It held one bone saw, a fork, and a lace napkin. 
 
 Thomas' mind raced, his heart pounded, his stomach growled. And then, it all became very clear. He had suffered so many years, all those years of study, all those years of sleepless nights, all those missed meals. Thomas had been hungry, yes, but hungry for knowledge. And three generations of knowledge sat but a few feet away. Thomas picked up the bonesaw. Thomas was famished.
