In a futuristic lab stood a man with dark eyes, devoid of life, dressed in a surreal dark outfit. He was surrounded by a team of engineers and scientists.
"I don't care how much it costs," the man declared, voice resolute. "I have amassed wealth over these countless years because of this damned curse. Just make me something that will let me rest for eternity—cryofreeze machine, sedation serum, I don't care." With that, he turned and left.
I don't care how many years this takes... how many personnel I'll need to make it happen. I will have this made, he thought as he walked.
He paused at a window, staring at the pale glow of the moon. And suddenly, a flicker of memory pierced the heavy fog of time...
The laughter of children echoed in his mind—sharp and innocent, like wind chimes in the summer.
A much younger version of himself sat under a tree in a sunlit park, barefoot and grinning, surrounded by friends and handheld consoles. "I wish I could live forever," he had said, beaming. "That way, I'll never run out of time to play all the games I want!"
His friends had laughed, one of them tossing a juice box at him. "You're so weird," they'd said. But he had meant it.
The memory rippled, morphing into another—years later now, he was a young adult.
He sat in a cluttered apartment filled with the tang of solder and sterilizers. Across from him, his friend Elias, a brilliant but eccentric bioengineer, cradled a vial of shimmering liquid.
"You always talked about wanting to live forever," Elias said, eyes shining with a mix of pride and desperation. "Well, I think I've finally cracked it. A serum that halts cellular decay. No aging, no death—at least, not from natural causes."
He chuckled, thinking it was a joke at first. "Come on, Eli. You want me to test that? What if I grow an extra arm or something?"
Elias looked serious. "I wouldn't trust this with anyone else. You're the one who wanted this. You said it yourself, remember? I figured… who better than you?"
And that old wish flickered in his mind like a match: I wish I could live forever…
In that moment, he reached out and took the vial.
Back in the present, his eyes lingered on the moon, but another memory forced its way in—one of the last, and perhaps the most painful.
He stood at the side of Elias's hospital bed. The once sharp-witted bioengineer was frail now, his breathing shallow, the machines doing most of the work.
Elias opened his eyes slowly. "You're still… the same," he whispered, half-smiling. "Not a wrinkle."
He gave a hollow chuckle. "Perks of the curse you gave me."
Elias coughed, then looked up at him with a gaze full of unspoken truths. "I perfected it, you know. Years ago. The final version… It makes you truly immortal. No air, no food, no wounds—not even the void of space could kill you now."
"I figured as much," he muttered.
"I never tested it on anyone else. Never released it. Just you." Elias's expression turned distant. "You dreamed of forever back then. Games, stories, legends… I thought maybe you could handle it. Maybe you'd carry on the dreams we had."
He clenched his fists. "So why not take it yourself?"
Elias sighed. "Because I knew. I knew what it meant. To outlast everyone. To watch the world change again and again while you remain untouched. I couldn't bear that. But you… you always had this fire. This hunger for wonder. I hoped maybe you'd find joy in it."
Tears didn't come—his body hadn't allowed them for decades. But a heaviness settled over him. "I didn't find joy, Eli. I found silence. Emptiness."
Elias smiled faintly. "Then I'm sorry... for giving you your wish."
Those were his final words.
Back in the corridor, the man stood still before the glass, moonlight reflected in his empty eyes.
"Oh, how I wish I could return to the moment before it all began… before I mistook eternity for a gift."