THE MAN HE BECAME
727 Words
ETHAN POV
The conference room fell silent.
A holographic image rotated slowly above the table.
A chair.
Just a chair.
At least, that was what it looked like.
Metallic frame.
Neural interface.
Hundreds of tiny components nobody had successfully identified.
The most famous piece of technology in the world.
And nobody knew how it worked.
I stared at the image.
“So?”
One of the lead researchers cleared his throat.
“We’ve completed another simulation.”
“And?”
“No success.”
My jaw tightened.
Across the table, Richard sighed.
“How many failed attempts is that now?”
Nobody answered.
That was answer enough.
Two years.
Thousands of researchers.
Billions in funding.
Nothing.
The project remained exactly where it had started.
A mystery.
A dead end.
A miracle nobody could explain.
The hologram rotated slowly.
Mocking us.
The world called it many things.
The Neural Throne.
The Ghost Machine.
The Impossible Chair.
Personally, I preferred its original name.
XI:N.
EVAN SALVATORE
The name of the scientist who had changed modern technology forever.
And then vanished without a trace.
Nobody knew how the prototype worked.
The only thing everyone knew was this:
The demonstration video had been real.
Governments confirmed it.
Scientists confirmed it.
Every major research institution confirmed it.
The machine had worked.
For exactly four minutes and thirty-eight seconds.
Then it exploded.
And took every answer with it.
A researcher broke the silence.
“We’re still analyzing the recovered fragments.”
I leaned back.
Fragments.
That was all humanity had.
Fragments.
A blurry video.
Scattered records.
And questions.
Too many questions.
I looked at the chair one final time.
“Keep going.”
The researchers exchanged tired looks.
Nobody argued.
Because the truth was simple.
Somewhere in the world, one person had solved a problem humanity couldn’t even understand.
And I intended to find out how.
The conference room slowly emptied.
Researchers gathered their tablets.
Engineers exchanged exhausted looks.
Nobody spoke much.
The XI:N project had a way of draining people.
I remained seated.
The holographic chair continued rotating above the table.
Silent.
Mysterious.
Unsolved.
A knock sounded against the glass wall.
Aiden walked inside carrying two coffees.
“Thought you’d still be here.”
I accepted one.
“You thought correctly.”
“Of course I did.”
He sat across from me.
For a moment neither of us spoke.
Then he glanced at the hologram.
“Still obsessed?”
I smirked.
“Still annoying?”
“Nice. That’s almost a personality.”
I ignored him.
Aiden leaned back in his chair.
“You know, normal people go home after work.”
“Good thing I’m not normal.”
“That’s not the argument you think it is.”
I took another sip of coffee.
Cold.
I hadn’t even noticed.
Aiden shook his head.
“You’ve changed.”
That made me look up.
“What?”
“The Ethan I knew would’ve been planning a party right now.”
I laughed.
A short, humorless sound.
“The Ethan you knew was eighteen.”
“The Ethan I knew smiled more.”
Silence.
The words lingered longer than I expected.
Eight years ago, my life had been simple.
School.
Friends.
Weekends.
Parties.
Freedom.
Now every decision carried consequences.
Thousands of employees depended on me.
Governments expected results.
Investors expected growth.
Failure wasn’t an option anymore.
Somewhere along the way...
The boy I used to be disappeared.
Aiden studied me carefully.
“Do you ever miss it?”
I looked through the glass walls.
The entire city stretched beneath Novaris.
Millions of lights.
Millions of lives.
“Sometimes.”
The answer surprised even me.
Aiden smiled.
“There he is.”
“There who is?”
“The guy who still exists underneath all this CEO nonsense.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Get out.”
He laughed and stood.
As he reached the door, he paused.
“Ethan.”
“Yeah?”
“You know the company will survive if you go home before midnight.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“You won’t.”
“No.”
The door closed.
I looked back at the holographic chair.
Then at the reports waiting on my desk.
Work was easier.
Work made sense.
People didn’t.
So I picked up the next file and got back to work.
Just another day at Novaris.
- Writer
