The days following Gene's death were pure hell for Lenna. The house, already cold and joyless, somehow got colder, as her mother's indifference turned into a full-on frostbite. Conversations dwindled to nothing, meals were served as solo ventures, and any semblance of warmth between them froze solid under the crushing weight of their shared but unspoken grief. They existed as strangers under the same roof—two souls crushed by loss but too emotionally crippled to do anything about it.
Lenna often found herself retreating into memories, sifting through the shards of happier times—moments when Gene was still alive, when she had a brother who hadn't become a posthumous monument to greatness.
Her family was a temple to brilliance, an altar to achievement. Her mother, a celebrated neuroscientist, had built her career on discoveries so groundbreaking they had seismic aftershocks. Gene, on the other hand, was the embodiment of that "wow" factor, a prodigy who breezed through complex concepts while the rest of the world was left to fumble in the dust. His talents weren't just academic—they were evolutionary. He took everything he touched and made it... well, better. Where others saw barriers, he saw a playground for innovation.
Then, there was Lenna. Compared to the blazing stars of her mother and brother, she felt like a flickering candle in the corner, not so much illuminating anything as just… existing.
The absence of her father didn't help matters. He was more ghost than parent, a mythical figure in her life—an unanswered question floating in the background of her childhood.
Living in a family like hers wasn't just tough; it was like trying to breathe underwater. Her mother's pride in Gene was so blinding, so overwhelmingly bright, it left zero space for anything else. Every conversation, every comparison was a constant reminder that she was the unfortunate outlier in this glowing family of overachievers. Gene's feats set the bar so high, she couldn't even dream of reaching it.
But Gene? Gene was never cruel about it. He never looked down on her. Quite the opposite, actually. If anything, he was maddeningly kind. He'd extend a hand to her—even when her bitterness raged like a storm. His offers to help were always there, untainted by judgment, no strings attached.
At first, Lenna hated him for it. His kindness felt like patronization wrapped in a bow. His offers to help were just a big flashing neon sign that said "Hey, you're not good enough on your own." But then, Gene offered to teach her computer science, and she jumped at the chance. Not out of gratitude, mind you, but to prove a point. If she could master what he knew, maybe—just maybe—she wouldn't feel like a footnote in his shadow.
Those afternoons together? They changed everything. Gene was shockingly patient. His explanations weren't just clear—they were methodical, like a carefully constructed road map. And his encouragement? Relentless. Slowly, that resentment melted away into something else—something far less bitter. What started as begrudging lessons evolved into a genuine bond. She saw him, really saw him, for the first time: not a walking, talking standard to live up to, but a brother who cared.
When Gene finally left for SATEG, the prestigious academy for gifted minds, Lenna felt like her world collapsed into a vacuum. The house turned colder—colder still—and emptier without him. And for the first time in her life, Lenna missed him. Not as the rival she'd always felt she was, but as her brother.
Determined not to be left behind, she buried herself in her studies. Days turned into nights and nights into mornings, her brain on overdrive, devouring knowledge like a starving animal. She wasn't just trying to prove herself anymore. She was proving something deeper, something more primal: that she could stand beside Gene, not just under him.
Her efforts finally paid off. Even her mother—who didn't impress easily—began to take notice. Without fanfare or celebration, she enrolled Lenna in SATEG.
At first, Lenna was elated. She pictured herself reuniting with Gene, the two of them, siblings once more, chasing their dreams together. But, of course, reality laughed in her face. Gene? Gene was too busy with his endless work. His pursuit of greatness left no room for family. Or anyone, really.
It stung, but it also fueled something inside Lenna. Watching Gene give everything he had to his dream made her want to give her own dream everything in return. She set a new goal: become the best tech master in the world. Not for her mother's approval, not for the accolades, but for herself—and for Gene, whose shadow she refused to stay in.
Her progress was meteoric. At SATEG, she earned the title "tech wizard" and became the youngest certified tech master in the country. Still, her ultimate goal felt just beyond her grasp. And then, one day, Gene came to her with a proposal. A chance to work together on something groundbreaking.
Gene laid out his blueprints with the giddiness of a man who had just invented fire. His design was brilliant, but it required her unique skills to make it a reality. Lenna felt a surge of pride. Finally, finally, Gene recognized her worth. For months, they worked tirelessly, pouring every ounce of mental energy they had into the machine.
When it was time to test it, though? Yeah, that didn't go as planned. Gene sent machinery to collect data, but the results? Complete gibberish. The machines didn't even survive the testing. Undeterred, Gene suggested a bold move: a human subject.
"I'll do it myself," he said, nonchalantly, as if volunteering to risk his life was as simple as stepping into a phone booth. He was already pulling on a suit before Lenna could even find her words.
"Gene, are you out of your mind?!" she protested, panic rising in her chest. "This isn't just risky—it's suicide!"
They argued. They yelled. But Gene was stubborn—immovable. And in a fit of desperate frustration, Lenna did what any reasonable sibling would do: sabotage. She created a virus to corrupt the machine's data, hoping it would short-circuit the whole project and stop Gene from being... well, Gene.
But she underestimated him. The AI, Liza, detected the virus and, in a stunning act of loyalty, isolated it in the power unit. And before they knew it, the system overloaded, spinning out of control. The explosion that followed was… well, catastrophic.
Lenna was thrown to the ground, her vision swimming as her face became acquainted with pain in a way that would forever be unforgettable. When the smoke cleared, Gene? Gone. Disintegrated. There was nothing left but ashes and the hollow echo of her own screams.
She survived. Barely. But at what cost? One eye lost. Her soul shattered. She had killed her brother, destroyed his life's work, and snuffed out the one bright light that had ever truly cared for her.
Grief? It was an ocean that swallowed her whole, leaving nothing behind but a cold, empty house, and a mother who, already distant, became even more so. They were strangers, bound only by the ghost of Gene.
And in the silence, Lenna was left with one unbearable truth: she had lost everything.