[ WP ] A man discovers a mathematical code while doing homework that gives him ultimate power

There was a room in my childhood home no one was allowed to go inside. My father forbade. A dark wooden door at the end of a hallway in the second floor, resting by a golden lampshade on the wall that did n't work anymore. 
 
 When I was a young kid, one time, I woke up to thunder noises and I left my room to go to the bathroom. In the middle of the hallway, I stopped and I stared at the door. For no particular reason I can remember. It just caught my eye in a way it had n't before. 
 
 In that dead silence of some lost 90's night in Anywhere, Texas, I thought I heard a noise behind that door, and I was scared. A voice whispering from behind that secret door that my father used to tell me never, never to open up. A voice whispering in a language I could not understand. I step-by-stepped my way to the door so slowly, I remember, and I touched the knob and I twisted it. The voice, the whispering, it grew louder. My hand was shaking and before I had put more than a slight crack between door and doorframe, the whispering was like screaming to my child ears and I backed out, and I closed the door again. I went to the bathroom, peed, went back to bed and did n't think about that door anymore. 
 
 I thought I saw a light inside that room. Like eyes shinning in the dark. I never told anyone that. 
 
 In the morning I found my father hanged by the neck and blue in the face in the garage. 
 
 I'm telling you all this because I ca n't sleep. I'm telling you all this because I went over this equations once, twice, 
 three times already. 
 
 Nothing. No mistake. 
 
 I'm telling you this because, as I sit here and try very hard not to freak out, I'm staring at numbers that will 
 change the world. 
 
 Do n't ask me about the math. My father was a mathematician, too, and even he would n't understand, I suspect. 
 Do n't ask me about it. 
 
 What you need to know is this: I can tell what is going to happen to everything, since an hour ago. It's because of this numbers, and the way I understand them and the way I laid them out on this piece of paper, but even I ca n't really put my head around it. All I know is this: from the moment I solved the last equation on this here piece of paper, it was all clear. 
 
 Now I look at an object and I concentrate enough, I can tell what's going to happen to it and what has already 
 happened to it. I can see the history of something throughout the whole universe. Beginning, middle and end of 
 every atom, from the big bang to the cooling of the galaxies. Any object. 
 
 This banana on the table, it was once part of a sun in the Kepler system. Its atoms are going to split, after Pangaea 
 II, and then some of them are going to leave the planet after a pretty strong asteroid crash. Do n't ask me how I 
 know this. But I do. 
 
 My wristwatch? It was stardust in the Milky Way for billions of years, did you know? I can tell you exactly how long 
 and how far it traveled before it came to be part of a round big rock that was to become Earth, and from that, 
 how it turned into several different minerals and changed and changed and changed and now it's telling me it's 
 midnight and thirty five minutes, and I hear a knock on the door. 
 
 I'm trying really hard not to look in a mirror, is what I'm doing. 
 
 I get up and before I can even start walking, I hear the knock again. Louder. *It's going to wake up the kids*, I think, and, again, another loud knock. 
 
 I'm reminded of my father's secret door, and a cold night in Texas, as I slow step by slow step my way to my house's front door. The knock again. Loud. So loud against the shattering sound of rain outside. 
 
 *Who on Earth could it be? * I think. My eyes are fixed on the door as I reach it, and already I start to see distant suns and swirling stars and astral bodies. The story of that door. 
 
 I press my eyes together, flushing the image away from my mind. Not now. 
 
 `` Who is it?'' I say, to the door. 
 
 That whispering. Just like when I was a kid. 
 
 `` Who is it?'' Again, nothing. I touch the doorknob. *That loud and silent at once whispering*. Low and high pitched at the same time, like Gregorian singing. 
 
 I twist the doorknob and open the door at once and the sound of the rain and thunder fill my ear. No more whispering. 
 
 On the other side of the door is my father. My dead father, expect not. 
 
 `` We need to talk, Sam'', is what he says, before everything is black and I pass out. 
 

