It was a lovely day, even though they were underground. There was something oddly refreshing about it—something about the stillness of the space made everything feel just a little brighter, even without the sun.
Sana's sleep cycle had been thrown off since they moved underground. With no natural light to signal the day, it was hard for her body clock to adjust. Yet, for some reason, she had slept well the night before. Maybe it was the quiet or the peace that filled the air. Today, she felt more awake than usual. She had tea with milk—an expensive luxury in the underground, but one she could afford when she had the money. It was a small indulgence, one that made the day feel a bit more special.
She couldn't shake the feeling that today was full of good vibes. Maybe it was the tea, or maybe it was something in the air, but she was in a good mood.
After breakfast, the group set to work cleaning the house. But today, Sana did it with a smile on her face. She hummed as she worked, singing softly to herself as the others went about their tasks. There was something almost magical about today—the way the world seemed to hum with life, the way she felt so light and carefree, even amidst the usual chores.
Sana couldn't help but smile. She was actually enjoying herself today.
Later, she wandered into the study, her thoughts turning to cameras. She remembered the days when she could play E-games with her friends, and a wave of nostalgia washed over her. Oh, how she missed those days! The thrill of the game, the competition, the fun.
But today, her mind was focused on a new project. She pulled out a piece of paper and began jotting down everything she knew about cameras. It was strange—working with such basic materials in an underground world cut off from modern technology. Yet she had an idea, a flicker of something she could build from nothing.
Her notes were a mess, but they made sense to her:
Camera Obscura:
A camera works on the principle of camera obscura, a simple concept. A darkened room with a small hole or lens at one side, through which an image is projected onto a wall opposite the hole. The human eye works in much the same way: light enters through the pupil, passes through the lens, and forms an image on the retina.
Early Photography:
The first photographic process used bitumen as a light-sensitive material. It was developed by French scientist Nicéphore Niépce in the 1820s. His first photograph was produced using a pewter plate coated with bitumen, capturing parts of his estate.
The process took long exposure times, which, while effective, wasn't practical for capturing fleeting moments.
She moved on to describe the daguerreotype process, the methods used to create early photographic images with silver plates and iodine. But she quickly dismissed it—she didn't have access to the necessary chemicals or safety precautions. Not to mention, the exposure times were long, and the process was far too complicated for her needs.
Then there were emulsion plates:
Ambrotype used glass plates instead of copper. Tin Plate was made from tin. Gelatin Dry Plates could be stored and developed later, but she didn't have access to gelatin either.
Her mind kept turning over these ideas, each one more complex than the last, until she came across the autochrome method.
Autochrome Process:
The autochrome process seemed like the perfect solution. It used microscopic colored starch grains—red, green, and blue—that created full-color images. These grains were coated on a glass plate, and light passed through them to produce a colored image. The process wasn't simple, but it required minimal technology and materials.
She imagined herself creating a rudimentary version of this method, experimenting with what she had. Maybe she could work with both monochrome and autochrome techniques, combining them to create something new and beautiful.
She jotted down her thoughts:
Autochrome plates: Small colored starch grains (red, green, blue) embedded in a transparent plate. Exposure process: Light passes through the grains, exposing the photographic emulsion beneath, creating a positive transparency.
While the process was relatively straightforward, it would still require careful attention and long exposure times. But with a little tinkering, she could make it work.
After a while, Sana paused and decided it was time for another break. She went to make more tea, as usual, and made sure to prepare it for everyone. The group gathered around the small table, sipping their tea together.
"You know, I'm working on something interesting," Sana said casually, trying to keep the excitement from her voice.
Farlan looked up, intrigued. "Let's see what you're up to this time," he said with a smile.
Sana's lips curled into a playful grin. "You wouldn't even believe it if I told you."
Her dream, though, was to work in the field of genetics. She had big plans—to change things at a cellular level, to help those who were cryopreserved, to figure out how to make the body regenerate its dead cells automatically after injury.
"Every disease could be cured within," she thought, almost out loud.
"I've come a long way," she said softly. "I'm advancing technology from the ground up."
But there were limits in the underground. Without the resources and materials, she could only dream of what she could achieve.
Just as they were finishing their tea, there was a knock on the door. Everyone turned, and a workman from Levi's team entered. He held something in his hands.
"Sanah san, I've got what you asked for," he said, showing her what he'd brought.
It was a football. A real one. Sana felt a wave of joy rush over her as she held it in her hands, the familiar shape bringing back memories of playing with her friends outside.
She couldn't contain her excitement. "Hey, who's up for a game?" she asked, looking around at the others.
Isabel was already on board, eager to play. Farlan hesitated but agreed once she begged a little.
Then there was Levi. It took a little more effort to convince him. In fact, it often felt like you needed to prepare an entire song of pleas just to get him to do something. But finally, after some persistence, he reluctantly agreed.
"Let's do this," Sana said, grabbing his hand to pull him outside.
To her surprise, his hand was soft, and for a moment, she wondered what the hell she was thinking. But it didn't matter—she was too excited to care.
The children in the underground had never experienced anything like this, and Sana made sure they came out to play as well. They divided into teams, with Farlan on her side and Isabel and Levi on the other. The rules were simple, and they started playing.
Her team scored two goals in quick succession, which didn't sit well with Isabel. "What are you doing, aniki? At this rate, we'll lose!" she said, clearly upset.
Levi, always competitive, didn't take kindly to losing. He became serious, and the game turned into a full-on battle.
Sana had been playing football for years, and she was good at it. She smiled as she scored again, watching Levi struggle to keep up. Despite his strength and skill, football wasn't exactly his domain.
By the time the game was nearing its end, both teams were tied. The atmosphere was electric, and everyone—especially the children—was having the time of their lives. It was something they hadn't experienced before: pure, unadulterated joy.
With one final push, Sana's team scored the winning goal. It was close, but they had won by just one goal.
Everyone was exhausted but smiling. Even Levi, despite losing for the first time, was in high spirits. He came to Sana, full of energy, and said, "Oye, Sanah, let's have a rematch sometime. I'll get you next time."
Sana laughed. "Bring it on."
This was only the beginning. She had promised to make them smile, and today, she had.
Later, they all returned to the house, weary but content. Sana took a refreshing bath, feeling the tension of the day melt away.
As she sat in the study later, reviewing her camera designs, she thought about the day. How funny it was to think that something as simple as a photograph could stop time, freezing moments forever. Was time itself particulate? She wasn't sure, but it didn't matter.
What mattered was that today, she had made the most of it.
Her joy was contagious, and she kissed everyone on the cheek before leaving the study. Two of them didn't mind, but the third—well, he was always a little irritated by her displays of affection. Sana laughed and teased him, then darted away, knowing that she'd been able to make him smile, even if it was just a little.
It was a great day, and tomorrow, there would be more.