My mom and dad, even though they were still young, were already senior scientists at Overent's kingdom laboratory. Though they worked there for a decade, they never took me to the lab before, not even once, until my eighth birthday. It happened to fall just a week before an unveiling ceremony with the king. I did not understand what the ceremony was about, but I was excited. They told me they would finally show me something they invented, something the world had never seen before. That alone made my heart thump with joy.
When we arrived, all the other scientists greeted my parents warmly. But the dean did not greet either Mom or Dad. He barely looked at them. Instead, he glared at me with a frightening expression that made my stomach twist. I hid behind my mother's hand, trembling.
One of the head scientists came over and whispered, "Do not mind him." He knelt and asked me gently, "Tell me, did your parents take you anywhere outside before today?"
I shook my head. "No," I said truthfully.
He nodded and looked meaningfully toward the dean before turning back to me. "To bring you here, your parents fought with him, even though it could cost them their jobs. That is why he is angry at all three of you."
I was too young to truly understand what that meant.
After that moment, everything blurred. I remember only pieces.
I stood in front of a gramophone. My parents were on one side, and all the other staff, including the dean, were gathered on the opposite side. Dad explained how the gramophone worked, showing me each part with his warm hands guiding mine. Then he asked me to close my eyes. I failed to close them properly, so Mom placed her palms gently over my eyelids.
When she lifted her hands, the table had changed. The gramophone lay in disassembled parts before me.
Dad asked me to assemble it.
And I did. Just like I showed you earlier. I placed the diaphragm, connected the disc to the motor shaft, fitted the needle into the holder. When I reached toward the switch to turn the motor on, the dean stepped forward and stopped me.
He flipped the needle, making the sharp end touch the disc rather than the blunt one I had positioned. The very same adjustment I made for you earlier. Then he gestured for me to turn it on.
The gramophone worked perfectly.
The dean clapped loudly. He showered my parents with praise, calling them brilliant. Then he took me by the shoulder and guided me toward a giant aquarium on the far side of the lab. It was large enough for an adult to sit inside. He tapped the thick glass affectionately and said, "This was another time your parents angered me. When this aquarium was ordered, I refused to approve it. Your mother argued with me, saying you loved fish and watching them helped her think of you. When I still refused, she said she could not use her brain without them. Your father supported her. And somehow, your mother convinced me to make this tank with the strongest glass ever created. These tiny fish are getting more protection than the scientists here. And that is all because of you."
He said it casually, but those words stayed with me forever. Those words always remind me of how fiercely Mom and Dad protected me, both directly and indirectly.
Sometimes I think he did not say those words casually at all. Maybe he wanted me to know who my protectors truly were.
While we spoke, Dad called to me.
The dean led me toward a tall glass wall. On the other side was a small dish holding a pile of dark red powder. Dad said, "Look carefully at the brown powder." But it was not brown. It was very clearly dark red. I told him so.
At first he disagreed. Then he stepped closer, really looked, and his face drained of color. His shoulders stiffened. His hands shook. Dad suddenly bolted toward the other scientists behind the monitors and screamed for them to stop the experiment.
But it was too late. The experiment had already begun.
A large digital clock above my head lit up and began counting down from 180 seconds.
I think the scientists took a moment to comprehend the danger, but by the time they reacted, the clock already showed 120 seconds. Panic struck them. Many scientists fled the room at once.
But Mom, Dad, the dean, and a few senior scientists remained. They stayed rooted to the floor, staring at the glass wall. From their hurried discussion, even I could understand that something terrible was unfolding. Something catastrophic enough to kill everyone within a two kilometer radius. The lab itself was only a fifth of that size. They all knew they would not survive if they stayed, yet none of them ran.
Mom suddenly burst into tears while staring directly at me. The moment she cried, everyone turned to look at me.
I did not understand anything. Why she was crying. Why everyone looked frightened. Why the air felt heavy. I simply stood there, small and confused.
Dad came to me, scooped me into his arms, and carried me quickly to the aquarium. He broke the emergency fire box, grabbed the axe inside, and gripped it tightly.
He lifted the axe and struck the narrow side of the long rectangular aquarium. Not at the center but near to one end. The blow echoed through the room. He struck the same spot again, and again, until a faint mark appeared. Then he struck another spot a foot away, carving a second mark.
He asked me to climb inside the aquarium and stand between the two marks with my back against the glass window where the experiment was taking place.
It was a simple request, but I resisted. I feared the fish swimming inside. My small mind worried they would bite me. Seeing my fear, Mom dropped to her knees, held my face softly between her palms, and said, "Fishes are just like humans. If you do not hurt them, they will not hurt you."
She did not know how cruel the world truly was. She left me with a naive truth in her final moments.
But it was not her words that made me step inside. It was her crying, trembling smile. I could not bear to refuse her.
I climbed into the aquarium. The cold water reached my waist. Fish brushed against my legs, making me shiver.
Dad said, "Close your nose and duck to the bottom when I say duck."
While I waited, Mom and Dad whispered urgently to each other. They discussed the strength of the aquarium. Mom asked, "What will be the magnitude of the impact?" "How long will it last?" "Will the glass hold?" Dad answered as best he could, though his voice broke more with each sentence.
When the clock reached five seconds, Dad shouted, "Duck."
I took a deep breath, pinched my nose, and sank to the bottom.
And as I tried to open my eyes out of curiosity, I saw Mom and Dad kissing. But it was not a kiss of love. Their eyes, watching me from the corner, were filled with tears that trembled at the edge of their eyelashes before sliding down their cheeks. Their kiss looked like two people trying to hold their hearts together, trying to believe that if they stayed close enough, maybe a better tomorrow would exist for me.
That image… It is the warmest memory I have of them. It flashes in my mind every time I force myself to remember them.
But the next image that always comes with it… that one, I try to forget. I try so hard to forget."
Indra paused as Isha wobbled slightly on his lap. He gently stroked her hair, waited until she settled again, then continued in a soft voice.
"While I watched them from under the water, something exploded on the other side of the glass wall. A deafening blast shook the lab. The floor shook. The equipment and lights shook. Mom and Dad shook but still rooted. The aquarium trembled so violently that cracks shot across the glass like lightning. The water around me churned into wild waves.
Mom and Dad started bleeding from every pore on their bodies. Blood flowed from their arms, their legs, their faces, even their fingertips. But they did not move at all. They stood like statues, frozen in place. Their own blood soaked through their clothes until they turned completely red.
I tried to lift my head, but something pushed me down. Some invisible force. It felt as if a giant hand pressed on my back. I sat there, helpless, watching the only people I loved fall apart in front of me.
A moment later, I saw something impossible.
A darkness, not a cloud, but pure darkness itself, blacker than night, darker than shadows, began spreading from the glass wall as if it had a will. It swallowed everything in a blink. The equipment, the lights, the floor, even the air seemed to vanish into that darkness.
Then the aquarium shattered.
Water burst around me. I felt myself burn everywhere, even though I was still underwater. The heat was unbearable. My skin screamed. My bones ached. Then the darkness vanished as quickly as it came.
When it disappeared, I found myself floating in open air. Only a thin cushion of boiling water surrounded me. Not even a quarter of the aquarium remained.
Gravity pulled me down. When I fell, I saw two burnt skeletons standing exactly where Mom and Dad had been a moment ago.
At that age, I did not know what a skeleton was. I did not know that humans had bones arranged like that inside them. I did not take those skeletons for Mom and Dad. I stood up and looked around, searching for them."
Indra's voice softened, almost whispered.
"But all I saw was ruin. Blackened walls. Ashes of equipment. Burning fish scattered across the floor. Molten aquarium glass dripping and burning everything in its path. Other skeletons, collapsed and half melted.
The smell of everything burning filled the air. It is a smell I still cannot forget.
Maybe because it was my last day with my family, or because the shock carved everything into my mind, I remembered every detail. I explained all of it to the polis, even a week later when I finally woke up in the hospital. But they did not believe everything. They said I imagined the darkness swallowing the lab. They said I imagined Mom and Dad bleeding from every pore. They believed only what matched their books and tests.
According to them, a chemical explosion occurred. They said the shockwave and heatwave destroyed everything and turned everyone except me to ashes. They said I survived because of the aquarium. That the glass absorbed most of the shock. That when the heatwave hit, the glass shattered from the temperature difference and the water around me turned to vapor, sparing me enough to live.
That is the explanation they gave. Clean. Simple. Easy.
But the truth was harsher.
The aquarium took most of the impact, but not all. The remaining shock crushed several bones in my arms, legs, and ribs. The remaining heat burned through my skin in many places. It took special doctors from the Overent kingdom three months to stabilize me. By the time they discharged me, I was healthy on the outside, like any normal boy my age.
Inside, I was not normal anymore.