PROLOGUE

  The prestigious NSF Graduate Research Fellowship Program was more than just a grant—it was a gateway to recognition, a lifeline for those who dared to push the boundaries of science and engineering. Every year, thousands of hopefuls submitted their research proposals, but only a select few earned the title of NSF Fellow. For Orzic, this wasn't just another application. It was the culmination of years of sleepless nights, relentless experimentation, and a vision that could change everything.

  When the acceptance letter arrived, it came with more than just funding. It carried the weight of expectation, the scrutiny of academic elites, and the unrelenting pressure to deliver something groundbreaking. But in the world of innovation, success was never guaranteed—only the fight to achieve it.

  ◇ ◇ ◇

  The NSF Graduate Research Fellowship Award Ceremony was a night of prestige and recognition, celebrating the brightest young minds in science and engineering. Held in a grand hall filled with esteemed academics and industry leaders, the event honored those whose research pushed the boundaries of innovation.

  As the keynote speaker praised their relentless pursuit of knowledge, finalists sat in anticipation, knowing this moment could shape their futures.

  One by one, awardees took the stage, receiving their certificates and the promise of new opportunities. More than an accolade, this night marked the beginning of groundbreaking discoveries yet to come.

  In the midst of such legends. Orzic was utterly forgettable—medium height, average build, and unremarkable windswept brown hair. His hazel eyes held no particular sharpness, and his posture was neither slouched nor confident. Dressed in plain, practical clothing for the occasion, he carried himself without distinction, the kind of man who faded from memory the moment he left the room.

  The announcer begins with, “Good evening, everyone! I’m Mr. Albert here, and it’s an honor to celebrate the future of science and innovation with you tonight.

  The NSF Graduate Research Fellowship isn’t just an award—it’s a recognition of your potential to shape the world. Each of you has dared to ask bold questions and push boundaries, and that’s what truly matters.

  Your journey is just beginning. Whether in AI, space exploration, or biomedical breakthroughs, your work has the power to make a difference. So take this moment, own it, and keep pushing forward.

  Congratulations to all—let’s begin!” He finished with that.

  As the people went and received their awards, Orzic was nervous. His leg, which was repeatedly tapping the floor, only stopped when the announcer started talking again.

  Announcer calls Orzic with excitement, "Our next recipient is a researcher whose work is revolutionizing weather prediction. At just 24, he has developed an AI algorithm that significantly improves the accuracy of weather pattern tracking, helping to predict extreme weather events with greater precision. Please welcome Mr. Orzic!"

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Now considering all that, it's Orzic’s turn to speak. Applause as Orzic walks up to the stage, shaking hands with the presenter before stepping up to the mic. He grips the mic, and the handwritten notes he prepared, falls from his hands.

  With an expression which is a cross between nervousness, bitterness and self loathing, he collects the papers. “Awaa …” he hurried to collect the flying papers. His teeth clatter loudly, sweat collects in his brows.

  The audience however, is having the time of their life witnessing the nervous breakdown of a young man in public. “Hahahaha~ hahahahahah~”

  After composing himself, he tries to calm his raging heart down by placing his hand over it. The announcer nearby asks a bit mockingly, “Mr. Orzic, I hate to say this but you should have been more prepared. My condolences to the people watching this guy's nervousness…” he added just enough fuel to the fire, the audience are relentlessly laughing now.

  Orzic grips the mic and after taking a deep breath he slowly talks, “I'm extremely sorry for my utterly disgraceful behaviour just now. Please forgive me!” He bows in front of the crowd.

  The audience was stunned into silence. Why? He was one of those genuine people who admits their mistakes openly even if they feel guilty. The number of people laughing decreases massively.

  The announcer talks, “Okay that's a wonderful quality to have. Mr. Orzic, shall we get to the main event …” His face, unlike moments ago, is filled with expectations.

  Orzic takes a deep breath, “Yes, we shall … but before we do I have to say … I have stage fear. So … with that out of the way.” He is still sweating, but not as much as before. Looking at the surreal site before him, He starts talking with amazement and bewildered, "Wow… This is surreal. First off, thank you to the NSF, my mentors, and everyone who supported this work … Ah right! … When I started developing this algorithm, I wasn’t looking for recognition—I was chasing a problem. Weather prediction has always been a challenge, and I believed AI could do better. So … I built a model that learns, adapts, and outperforms existing systems in tracking extreme weather shifts."

  He tries his best to erase his previous embarrassment. But him trying too hard was so obvious that people just pretended to go along with it.

  “But this is just the beginning. I … My … My goal isn’t just better forecasting—it’s real-time climate adaptation, helping communities prepare before disaster strikes. This award is a milestone, not the finish line. The next iteration of this AI will be faster, smarter, and even more precise. Honestly! This … This … This is the wish of a fool! Who thinks he can achieve his dream. To everyone who supported this wet dream of mine … I love you all!”

  "To every researcher out there—keep questioning, keep improving, and never settle. Science isn’t about what we’ve done; it’s about what’s next. Thank you! Thank you very much ladies and gentlemen!"

  The audience erupts in applause as Orzic steps down, his mind already racing toward the next breakthrough.

  ◇ ◇ ◇

  After reaching his private quarters, Orzic shuts the door hard. He was handling his door roughly just because he is living in an apartment.

  “Wha … what the hell!” He topples a nearby book on his desk to the ground. “That was honestly … the most mortifying experience. This is fucking messed up! I messed up! Then I've had it till now!! Ahhh.”

  He sits on his knees holding his head. “Why …. Why … Why was I … I sooo goddamn nervous in the first place?” He asks questions but he doesn't receive any answers for them.

  There is only a dim light in his apartment room, quiet except for the hum of a ceiling fan. The air is still. The clock on the wall ticks forward, unaware of what lurks beneath.

  His gaze suddenly turns upward, “I know if I throw myself into work. That'll… That'll make me feel better! I know it. Where's my laptop?” He searches for his laptop. After finding it he works on his desk after riding up his mistake of toppling books.

  After a few hours, He stretched my arms and glanced at the laptop screen, the same mindless scrolling, the same uneventful day. Outside, the world moves—cars honk, people chatter—but here, time stands still.

  A flicker. The lightbulb above him dims for a second. Power surge? Weird. He shifts in his chair, feeling an odd vibration underfoot. Probably the neighbors moving furniture again.

  Then—a click.

  A metallic snap echoes from somewhere beneath me. His breath catches. He looks around, half-expecting the source of the sound to reveal itself. Nothing. Just the same four walls. The same old apartment.

  A deep rumble shakes the floor. His chair trembles. The window panes rattle. His stomach twists.

  What the hell was that?

  The floor lurches. His desk slides an inch. Panic kicks in as the ground beneath his feet lowers. Not a collapse—a descent. The entire floor is sinking, dropping into spiralling darkness below.

  He scrambles to his feet, heart hammering. The walls stretch upwards as if he was being swallowed by the building itself. Dust rains from the ceiling. The air grows thick, electric, wrong. And then it hits Him. Not an earthquake. Not a structural failure. A bomb! Definitely. It's already activated. Already counting down. And he never even saw it.

  But even as his descendants he has few regrets in his mind. “I … At this rate… My dream will end up unfinished. My life's work is vaporising and yet I'm powerless to do anything about it” He broods over before his consciousness shuts off.