I was watching him with all my love... my young son, Selim, his eyes burning with a brilliance that mirrored the horizon. But then he asked a question—a question no child his age should know how to ask. It was then I realized he was destined to be one of the great minds of his era.

He pointed toward the skeletal remains of jagged buildings, his voice filled with wonder. "father, How old are these ruins?"

I looked at him, with a faint smile breaking through my weary features. "No, son," I said. "You should say: How ancient is this world?!..."

He studied my face for a heartbeat, searching for the meaning behind my words. "Is that how geniuses talk, Father?"

I went silent for a moment, then leaned in. "Did you know, Salim, that the Mind-walker on your neck... I invented its first prototype when I was nearly your age. I wanted people to find each other again. I wanted them to speak, to understand one another, to tear down the walls of language. I refined it, piece by piece, until it became the very fabric of our lives and memories. This neural-enhancer was—and still is—a revolutionary breakthrough. It is the phone of the new world."

...

"father... how ancient is this world?

 no... how wrathful is my soul?!"