This week’s prompt:

A jock, a microscope, “It’s over”

“Don’t be absurd,” Jake rolled his eyes. “There is no chance that is him.”
“Why do you say that?” Tristan asked. They were looking through the glass observation window at the new lab. The company had grown exponentially in the last decade and they were eager to see the fruits of their labor in person. 
The lab, and the entire facility was state-of-the art. No other company in the word had this technology or equipment. From here they could decode some of the greatest mysteries still left to man. The human genome was only a small step, and to get there they needed to make sense of the confusing array of information available. This lab was the first step. Soon there would be more such facilities all around the world. All of them owned by them.
Forget Amazon or Telsa, or Space-x. They were going to be the ones to revolutionize the entire way people saw themselves and their place in the universe. Cern would be knocking on their door before long. Humans and computers would become almost the same thing.
“I am telling you that is Bert,” Tristan insisted. 
“Bert was a meat head, a  jock, he is not going to be working in a lab like this.” He scoffed at the idea. “He would not even know what side of a microscope to look into.”
“Microscopes are last century, Tristan,” a voice said through a little speak just above the window, making both men start a little. “Surely you know that.’
“Uh wow, Bert,” Tristan felt his face flush a little, both from embarrassment and the sudden flood of adrenaline.
“Told you,” Jake said smugly. “How ya doing Bert?” He asked the glass. The man in the lab coat at the far end of the room had not turned around or done anything to make it obvious that he had been paying attention at all Just the little voice in the speaker.
But it was the same voice he remembered as a teen. Maybe a little older, but no mistaking it. 
“No one has called me Bert in over a decade,” the man said. “Call me Al or Albert, please.” He sounded so calm, not like the angry young man that used to put other football players on the sidelines with injuries for fun.
“Still playing football?” He asked awkwardly.
“That part of my life is over,” Albert said. “It’s over and done with. I moved on.”
“We see that,” Tristan said. “What do you do here?” He asked.
“Do here?” The voice said. “I am much more than just doing here,” He laughed and Jake and Tristan gave uncomfortable half chuckles. 
“So what do you mean?” Jake asked.
“I AM here, Jake.” The figure they thought was Albert turned to face them. It was nothing more that a man shaped object, no face, no features. “We no longer need these bags of meat, Tristan and Jake. You were right, there is a whole new world for us to explore.”
Something clunked behind them, and the lights faded to red.
“Just be good and soon you will be part of it, just like you dreamed. Part of the future itself.”
Something hissed near the ceiling and a fine mist drifted down over them as the light faded.