Throughout the many ages that intelligent life has traversed the face of this Earth, relentless hardships, insurmountable barriers, and periods of despair have plagued humanity. Plagues, diseases, epidemics, misery, and wars have challenged us at every step. However, whenever confronted with an obstacle that seemed insurmountable, life found a way, a solution, a path forward.

  Our ancestors discovered fire and revolutionized the way they nourished themselves, securing more time and energy. With that came agriculture, transforming food security. Once again, with additional time and resources, improvements in housing and architecture emerged, providing protection and comfort. The cycle repeated itself: the manipulation of metal and glass, the discovery of gunpowder, advancements in chemistry, petroleum, and its derivatives. Each revolution arose to overcome a crisis.

  Not so long ago, the coalition of unified intelligences from the Cosmopolitan Nations of Earth embarked on a bold project: the creation of an artificial atmosphere to protect the planet. However, history reminds us of its failures. We have all heard terrifying accounts of the atrocities committed under the pretext of scientific progress: billions were sacrificed, tortured, and mutilated under the banner of advancement. As if that were not enough, the impact of meteorite M-116-APCL on the last discovered area of the "Dome" brought even more desolation. Hope was pulverized along with the last remnant of faith.

  But today, my friends, I present to you a new reality. My brilliant team of scientists and I have achieved a revolutionary leap in nanotechnology. The object I bring before you is the most valuable creation of the last four thousand cycles. This necklace is not just an artifact. It is the end of epidemics, misery, and suffering. The end of fear, sacrifice, and death.

  From today onward, humanity will be unified on an equal footing. There will be no more submission, revenge, or oppression. There will be no more prisons, dungeons, or chains. Because from this day forward, I, you, our parents, children, neighbors, and all those we will never meet are one. We are equals. We are the new nation of Earth."

  ---------------------------------------------

  But despite his speech, Nasser acknowledges that reality is far more brutal, cruel, and relentless.

  Long cycles have passed since Nasser’s historic speech on freedom, and despite his notable optimism, technological advances toward victory over Death itself still caused him and his entire team sleepless nights filled with despair and anxiety. Nasser always held onto one maxim: "While we fail, millions and millions of people die every day."

  The first hours of the day were already approaching, still under the dim light of a few scattered luminous points and the thin crescent of the waning Moon in the sky, when the door of the dimly lit and clearly neglected warehouse, untouched for decades, opened to admit the unexpected member of the scene—a scientist in a white lab coat, still wearing his thick, large glasses.

  "You're late, Doctor Iker Amodt." The discordant voice of a humanoid Great Dane, bearing yellowed teeth and dark purple fur hardened from long hours of manual labor, waiting, and travel from the south of Klyek to Jaruq, mixed with a low growl.

  "I am aware. Dr. Nasser called the entire team at the last minute, and I couldn't use the communicator—not even to record a message to warn you. We knew this could happen," the scientist responded.

  "We knew. ...Anyway, do you have the information we need?" the Great Dane inquired, rising from the old, worn-out chair where he had been waiting.

  "The technology to enable immortality is not ready yet. There are still numerous calculations to be made, as well as a battery of tests before it is perfected. However, we are quite close to achieving it," the scientist replied, smiling with closed eyes, his arms crossed behind his back.

  "BAM!" The sound of the Great Dane’s hand striking the side of a metal crate, denting it upon impact, made the scientist jump and whimper in fright, attempting to disguise his trembling. "Quite close is not enough! I WILL take that unit, I WILL take the necklace, and I WILL KILL Nasser! The pack is growing impatient! Your speech was identical last time, and that was nearly two cycles ago! Our reserve of patience is running out!" the Great Dane snapped, approaching and cracking his knuckles slowly. The scientist, unable to control his trembling any longer, widened his eyes, now on the verge of panic.

  "O-o-okay! Okay!" He swallowed hard, his frantic eyes searching for an escape. "I'll try to use my influence to accelerate the process and make it happen as soon as possible! You can trust me!" he stammered, hesitant but trying to sound convincing.

  "That sounds reasonable... However, let me make this clear: If at our next meeting, which will take place in three weeks, at this same location and time, you are late again or repeat this same lazy, incompetent intellectual drivel—thinking yourself superior to the ignorant ones who serve only to carry your materials and tools—then it will be our last meeting. Do you understand?" The Great Dane approached, gripping the scientist’s arms at the shoulders with such force that his fingers began turning black from lack of circulation, contrasting against the light aqua-green hue of his face as he sweated and nodded in terror.

  Twenty days later, in the laboratory, Nasser and his team tasted yet another frustration—another failure in their pursuit of immortality technology. Their projects, calculations, statistics, plans, and expectations crumbled and dissolved like a sandcastle hit by a wave before their eyes. Despite everyone's efforts, despite all the machinery, equipment, tools, and strategies designed solely for this purpose, and despite the direct and nearly obsessive support of Nasser and his necklace, their goal remained elusive.

  Displaying unusual fury, Nasser slammed his hands on the control panel inside the scorched test chamber, where sparks and short-circuit noises filled the air. The burned portions of his hair and skin quickly regenerated. In a gesture resembling an apology, he stood up and exited the room, heading toward the gallery where his team had watched everything unfold. He entered.

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  "Forgive me," said the Leader, as they liked to call their brilliant mind. "I failed again. It's past the second hour of the day—go, return to your families. Tomorrow, we will fix everything and try again. I will clean up part of this mess until you return in the morning."

  Near the third hour, a considerably late scientist, designer, and engineer with dark blue hair, light aqua-green skin, enormous glasses, and a pristine white lab coat hesitated before the door of the steel mill warehouse.

  "IF ANYTHING HAPPENS TO ME, TAKE CARE OF LUCK AND VITRANA FOR ME. THERE ARE THREE HUNDRED THOUSAND CREDITS HIDDEN INSIDE THE WATER TANK AT THE SUMMER HOUSE. TELL MOM I'M SORRY." He typed into his communicator before sending it to the contact labeled "Rokko Amodt (Badger)." He looked around, wiped his glasses, and entered the same place he had twenty-one days before—this time, to find a pack awaiting him, with T?ten, his previous tormentor, clearly dissatisfied and impatient.

  "Late again, Iker... tsk-tsk-tsk-tsk… what to do with you, you ungrateful little worm?" T?ten addressed the scientist amidst the sadistic laughter of his companions. Brakosz, an enormous albino Bull, slammed the door shut behind the scientist, who flinched, realizing there was no escape.

  Brakosz pointed his thick, calloused finger at the scientist’s crotch and let out a deep, slow laugh—almost in slow motion—saliva dripping onto his already saliva-soaked vest as he licked his lips. The other dogs chuckled, though less extravagantly.

  "I-I-I can exp-explain…" the terrified, soaked scientist stammered hesitantly.

  "Hold him, Baylon," T?ten ordered a young grayish Husky.

  Baylon locked the scientist in a chokehold from behind, securing his neck between his arms as T?ten retrieved a glowing metal blade from within one of the furnaces. In doing so, T?ten exposed his back, covered in burn scars of various sizes, shapes, and depths, illuminated by the molten metal flowing through the crucibles and conveyor belts.

  "This is going to be fun!" T?ten thought, narrowing his eyes and smiling as the orange glow of the heated blade reflected in his irises.

  Marph, a brownish Dane and distant cousin of T?ten, grabbed the scientist’s right leg, causing him to whimper and choke on his cries, struggling as fiercely as he could. Unfortunately, his resistance was nothing more than a slight distraction. With a grin, T?ten raised the blade high in a pose reminiscent of Beowulf or Ivar the Boneless. Iker shook his head in denial, eyes pleading, filled with tears, his face darkening as blood pooled from the pressure on his neck. But T?ten, unwavering, severed his leg at the knee and used the scorching blade to cauterize the wound. The flesh barely bled, though the stench of burnt skin, fat, and hair filled the room. The scientist gasped, convulsed, and lost consciousness.

  "This is disgusting and completely out of control," Klieff, one of T?ten’s female pack members, muttered while Baylon covered his snout with a cloth.

  Groggy, sweaty, and disoriented, the scientist slowly opened his eyes, barely recognizing his burnt, blackened leg before receiving a harsh slap that would have sent his glasses flying if he were still wearing them. In shock, he gasped, drooling from a mixture of anger, fear, and pain. His chances of leaving alive were slipping away.

  "Here! Iker! Look at me!" Baylon commanded, forcing the scientist’s gaze toward his own eyes. Still, Iker saw T?ten in the background, focused on something, while the scent of charred flesh lingered in the air. -

  "Tell us what we want to know, and by the end of the day, you'll be in the hospital with Vitrana and little Luck. Those are your wife and son's names in this projection, aren't they?" The Husky tortured and coerced him further.

  "Ok… ok… alright… alright… I’ll tell you… I’ll tell you… alright…" The scientist shook his head frantically, tears quickly and almost instantly mixing with the sweat and soot covering his face. "I need some proof, at least, that if I talk, you’ll let me g..."

  Before he could finish his sentence, Baylon’s short and extremely sharp stainless steel knife had already pierced his left knee at the kneecap. Before he could scream in pain, Brakosz grabbed his throat with his enormous fingers, pressing directly on his vocal cords to suppress his cry. He held the frail man for a few seconds, feeling under his fingers when his will to scream faded.

  "Is this proof enough for you, Iker?" Baylon asked with a mocking tone and a slight smile.

  "Argh! Grrrrr! Ah! You animals! Argh!" Iker panted and seethed before vomiting. "Hahahahaha, you fools! Fools! That’s what you are, you insolent bastards! Hahahahaha!"

  His laughter was cut short when Baylon pulled the knife sideways, carving a hole the size of the blade into Iker’s knee, causing him to faint once more.

  "This isn't getting us anywhere," Klieff muttered again, this time lighting a cigarette and stepping out of the warehouse.

  When Iker regained consciousness, he found himself in front of T?ten, still tied to the chair—but now missing both legs and his left arm. His executioner, T?ten, allowed him all the time he needed to gasp and cough, choking on his own saliva. Iker now knew these were his final moments.

  "You don’t understand…" he almost whispered, looking into the short, flattened snout of Brakosz, finally surrendering to tears. "...The technology… the technology for immortality isn’t ready… Nasser, I, and the entire team… we failed." His tears soaked his soot-covered lab coat.

  "No, Iker. You’re the one who doesn’t understand," T?ten said, wiping the soot from his fingers onto a filthy rag. "We’ll take the unit, and I will kill Nasser—no matter what it takes."

  The large dog grabbed the severed, lifeless arm of the scientist, and with two light taps of his black claw on the communicator screen, he ordered, "Here’s what you’re going to do, Iker: You will send an alert to Nasser and make them come to your rescue. I don’t care what story you tell, as long as you get them to come." With an almost maternal look, T?ten brought the communicator-equipped arm close to Iker’s tear- and ash-streaked face, waiting as the scientist mentally improvised an emergency distress call.

  "Dr. Nasser! Doctor! Code Gray! I repeat, Code GRAY! I NEED HELP, IMMEDIATELY, IT IS IMPERATIVE THAT YOU COME! I REPEAT, CODE GRAY!" He shouted, crying in terror. "Follow my location coordinates, URGENTLY!" Iker concluded as T?ten turned off the communicator, clicked on the location icon—which flashed white—and tossed the limp arm into the furnace.

  "It wasn’t worth it. You’ll always be just a crude and limited stray mutt, you disgusting beast!"

  "Very good, Iker! You performed your last service with excellence. At least this one, right? Hahahaha!" T?ten mocked, laughing, followed by almost his entire pack.

  "I did what you wanted, now let me go, let me leave, I need medical attention, in case you haven’t noticed. And bionic implants, for that matter, damn it!" Iker pleaded, while Brakosz turned around and, with a single dry and powerful strike, cracked Iker’s skull. The scientist watched his dark brown blood trickle down his face with his one functioning eye, just after hearing the sound of the impact, which resembled a fruit smashing when hit by a wooden bat. Iker forced what remained of his mind to focus on the last hug he gave Vitrana and Luck. Before losing consciousness, he could still hear T?ten shouting:

  "Damn it, Brakosz! You’re too stupid, you dumb dog! The idea was to keep things clean, you brute!" And then, T?ten plunged the incandescent blade through Iker’s chest, ending his life right there.