The Absence of Evidence
1208 Words
The city of Neo-Arcadia was a marvel of the modern world—a testament to the boundless potential of human ingenuity. Skyscrapers pierced the heavens, their glass walls reflecting the neon glow of holographic billboards. Hover-cars zipped through the air, leaving streaks of light in their wake. The streets pulsed with life, filled with people both ordinary and extraordinary, enhanced by the limitless power of Nano.
Yet, beneath the dazzling exterior, shadows lurked.
Not everyone reveled in the glory of progress. Some sought answers beyond technology—beyond Nano, beyond science. They searched for something more, something greater.
Among them was Chi Chi, a man who dared to ask the one forbidden question:
"What lies beyond?"
Inside a sleek, futuristic home, young Toji sat on the living room floor, playing with a set of nano-constructs—tiny, glowing particles that formed shifting structures at his command.
The front door slid open with a soft hiss.
“Dad!” Toji’s eyes lit up as he scrambled to his feet.
Chi Chi stepped inside, dressed in a black researcher’s coat adorned with silver threads. His features were sharp yet gentle, his eyes holding the wisdom of a man who had seen too much.
He knelt down, ruffling Toji’s hair. “How’s my little genius today?”
Toji grinned. “I made a tower!” He gestured at the shimmering structure beside him.
Chi Chi chuckled. “A fine tower, indeed. But tell me, what keeps a tower standing?”
Toji frowned, thinking. “The base?”
His father smiled. “Yes. The foundation. Without a strong foundation, even the tallest tower will crumble.”
Toji nodded, as if committing the words to memory.
Chi Chi settled onto the couch, exhaling deeply. There was a strange look in his eyes tonight—something distant, something heavy.
"Dad, what’s wrong?"
Chi Chi hesitated. Then, in a quiet voice, he spoke.
“Toji… today, I encountered something.”
“What was it?”
Chi Chi looked at his son, searching for the right words. “A being. No… not just any being.” He leaned forward, voice barely above a whisper.
“He introduced himself as God."
Toji’s eyes widened. "God?"
“Yes. He called Himself the Creator. His presence was… unbearable. I could not look at Him directly. I felt like… like I was standing before the very essence of existence itself.”
Toji was too young to understand the weight of those words, but he listened, fascinated.
“This being,” Chi Chi continued, “told me that I had been chosen. That I would pave the way for something far greater than myself.”
“To do what?”
Chi Chi smiled, placing a hand on Toji’s small shoulder. “Not me, son. You.”
Toji blinked. “Me?”
The scientist nodded. “He said that you are the one who will carry out His work. I do not yet know what that means, but I do know this… You are special."
Toji felt something stir inside him—an emotion he could not yet name.
His father smiled. “But don’t worry about that now. Tonight, let’s just enjoy being together.”
And they did.
For one last time.
Later that night, Toji was curled up in bed when the sirens began to wail.
Heavy boots pounded against the pavement outside. The distant hum of hovercrafts grew louder.
Then—
BANG! BANG! BANG!
A fist slammed against the front door.
“Toji!” Chi Chi’s voice was urgent as he shook his son awake.
"Dad?" Toji rubbed his eyes groggily. "What’s happening?"
“No time,” his father whispered, scooping him up. He rushed to the closet, placing Toji inside. "Listen to me carefully."
There was panic in his voice.
"The absence of evidence is not the evidence of absence."
Toji’s small hands clutched at his father’s coat. “I don’t understand.”
Chi Chi’s expression softened. “One day, you will.”
A loud crash echoed through the house. The front door had been forced open.
Chi Chi pressed a finger to his lips. “Stay silent. No matter what happens, stay hidden.”
Toji wanted to scream, to beg his father to stay. But Chi Chi was already stepping away, turning toward the oncoming shadows.
The closet door slid shut.
From the slits between the panels, Toji watched.
Black-clad soldiers stormed into the house, their weapons raised.
A man stepped forward. A high-ranking officer.
“Dr. Chi Chi.” His voice was cold. “Your research violates the Fundamental Laws of Science. You have been found guilty of heresy. You will come with us.”
Chi Chi raised his hands. “Heresy?” He chuckled. "For asking questions?"
The officer did not smile.
"Where is the boy?"
Chi Chi’s expression remained unreadable. “What boy?”
BANG!
A rifle slammed into his stomach, sending him to his knees.
“I will not ask again.”
Chi Chi wiped blood from his lip and smiled. “There is no boy.”
The officer nodded. "Take him."
As they dragged him away, Chi Chi turned his gaze toward the closet.
He smiled.
Then he was gone.
Toji ran.
His tiny legs carried him through the neon-lit streets, dodging past startled pedestrians. His mind was a blur of fear and confusion.
"Dad will find me."
"Dad will find me."
Then—
The televisions flickered.
Toji slowed to a stop, turning toward the massive screen looming over the city square.
His heart stopped.
Chi Chi was there.
Bound to a metal chair, his arms strapped down.
A robotic voice echoed through the square.
"Dr. Chi Chi. You have been found guilty of crimes against the state. Your punishment is Cordial Stripping.”
Toji didn’t understand.
Then—he saw the cord.
A thin, glowing thread of energy, attached to his father’s forehead.
Toji’s breath caught.
They pulled.
Chi Chi’s skin peeled away first.
Then—his muscles.
His nerves.
His organs.
Piece by piece, layer by layer, he was unmade.
And still—he did not scream.
His eyes searched the crowd, looking for something.
Looking for him.
"DAAAAAAD!"
Toji screamed.
He ran, pushing through the onlookers, reaching for the screen as if he could somehow pull his father out.
“STOP!” he sobbed. “PLEASE, STOP!”
The soldiers turned.
One raised a rifle.
A shot rang out.
Pain exploded in Toji’s shoulder.
He fell.
But he did not stop.
He scrambled to his feet, clutching his wound, running.
Running.
Running.
Running.
Tears blurred his vision. His small legs felt like they would give out at any moment.
He ran until his lungs burned. Until the lights of the city faded behind him.
Until he was nothing but a boy, lost in the darkness.
Somewhere in the shadows, Toji collapsed, his small body wracked with sobs.
His father was gone.
The city had turned against him.
Everything he had known was gone.
And yet—
His father’s words echoed in his mind.
"The absence of evidence is not the evidence of absence."
Toji clenched his fists.
He would survive.
He would find the answers.
He would finish what his father started.
And one day—
They would pay.
- Writer
