Chapter 1: Pandora's Light

Chapter 1: Pandora's Light

It had been over five decades since humanity lost its way. The world was no longer as it once was—the sky, once a brilliant blue, had turned into a dense gray, choked with ash and smoke from crumbling cities. Amid this destruction, Kaivan sat by the small window in his dimly lit apartment. The faint glow of a streetlamp outlined the exhaustion etched into his face.

The tea in his hands had long gone cold, its steam dissipating like a dream that had slipped away. Outside, transport vehicles rumbled down the main road, hauling materials for projects hailed as "the salvation of humanity." Kaivan knew better. He had seen those lies grow, nurtured until they erupted into tragedies that haunted his every waking moment.

He closed his eyes, but the memories surged back, vivid and unforgiving: Elise's screams, Ethan's bewildered face, and Frankenstein standing amidst the chaos. Its eyes—mechanical yet eerily human—glowed red like a warning light. The explosion's shockwave still felt fresh, reverberating through him every time he tried to forget.

Kaivan exhaled slowly, his hands trembling. He wanted to scream, to release the weight crushing him, but his voice was trapped, stuck deep in his chest. It was too late. Elise—he could still hear her screams. Ethan—the confusion on his face still lingered like a shadow in Kaivan's mind. The ghosts of that day clung to him, relentless and unyielding.

In the corner of the room stood an old, dustless safe. Inside it lay fragments of a past too dangerous for anyone to uncover. Frankenstein. The name alone was enough to ignite fear and suspicion. The world had condemned the creature, branding it a monster, but Kaivan knew the truth. Frankenstein wasn't the monster—it was humanity's unbridled ambition.

Kaivan hadn't hidden it out of pity. He hid it because he understood: if Frankenstein fell into the wrong hands, it would bring about Earth's true end—not just another apocalyptic narrative spun by the Elite to maintain their power.

"Was this the right choice?" he whispered into the stillness. The room offered no answer, only a heavy, unfeeling silence.

Kaivan rose and approached the window. Outside, a massive screen mounted on a building played a news segment about the Eos Ark project, humanity's last hope to escape Earth. A female anchor spoke with unwavering optimism. Andin Navarro.

Her name struck like a blade, reopening a wound that had never truly healed. Andin wasn't just a face on a screen—she had been his first love, the only person he had ever trusted. But trust had demanded a price: death.

"Andin..." Kaivan whispered, her name escaping his lips like a prayer. It carried warmth, but also pain. She had been his beacon, yet his choices had driven an irreparable wedge between them. He longed to believe things could have been different, but deep down, he knew—there was too much to hide, too much that could shatter what they once had.

Under the fading sky, Kaivan realized one thing: time was not on his side. The world wouldn't last much longer, and Earth would not wait for him. He needed to find a way to atone for the past—before everything crumbled beyond repair.

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That night, Kaivan's nightmares returned. The same memory, repeating endlessly like a broken reel.

He stood in a grand hall, surrounded by scientists, developers, and investors engrossed in conversation. The room gleamed with bright neon lights, their hues mingling in a dazzling display of humanity's technological triumphs.

At the center of the hall stood a massive glass capsule. Inside it lay Frankenstein—a figure as flawless as it was unsettling. Its pale skin, untouched by sunlight, seemed almost translucent.

Elise stood on the stage, radiant with pride. "Today, we are not just shaping the future. We are creating hope," she declared, her voice resonating with conviction.

Kaivan remembered standing on the edge of the room, uneasy yet mesmerized. Elise was the reason he was there. He cared little for politics or cutting-edge science, but Elise had insisted. "You need to see this, Kaivan," she'd told him the night before. "I want you to be part of something greater than anything you've ever imagined."

For a fleeting moment, he believed her.

Then Frankenstein opened its eyes.

The applause that had filled the room fell silent. The creature remained motionless, but its glowing red eyes scanned the room as if discovering the world for the first time. The capsule's indicators began to flash erratically, and a ripple of unease spread among the scientists.

Kaivan froze. Frankenstein's eyes—deep, red, and piercing—locked onto his. Its gaze felt both vacant and aware, an unsettling contradiction that sent chills down his spine.

The room stood still for an agonizing moment. Then chaos erupted.

Kaivan was the only one to survive what the world would come to know as the Frankenstein Tragedy.

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