The school hallway buzzed with life. Lockers slammed shut, sneakers squeaked against polished floors, and students laughed and shouted as they rushed to their next classes. Amid the chaos, Quinn stood out, his calm demeanor contrasting with the whirlwind around him.

He walked slowly, guided by the soft hum of Techo, the robot that had become his constant companion. Designed by his father and uncle, Techo was more than a helper—it was his lifeline. The robot's sensors mapped the world for Quinn, helping him navigate the sights he could never see.

"Morning, Quinn!" a girl called as she passed him.

Quinn nodded. "Morning, Emma."

Her voice faded into the distance, replaced by the whispers he couldn't ignore.

"Doesn't he get tired of trying?"

"Techo does everything for him. What's he even doing here?"

Quinn's jaw tightened, but he kept walking. Techo's soft beep reminded him to turn left, guiding him to his classroom. He didn't need anyone's pity, and he certainly didn't need their doubts.

"Alright, class, settle down!" Mr. Carter clapped his hands to grab their attention. "Today, we're tackling linear equations."

Quinn leaned forward, listening intently. The faint scratch of chalk against the board painted a mental picture for him. Numbers and letters danced in his mind, each connected by invisible threads.

"Quinn," Mr. Carter called, "can you solve this equation for us?"

The room went silent. Quinn stood slowly, his hands gripping the edge of his desk. "Sure," he said, his voice steady.

As he approached the board, Techo beeped softly behind him, but Quinn raised a hand. "I've got this."

His fingers brushed the chalk, its texture familiar. He moved hesitantly but managed to write the equation's solution.

"Well done," Mr. Carter said, nodding in approval.

Quinn's lips curved into a small smile, but it didn't last.

"Why even bother?" a voice muttered from the back of the room. "Techo probably told him the answer."

Laughter rippled through the class. Quinn's grip on the chalk tightened, but he didn't turn around. Instead, he walked back to his seat, his face impassive.

The final period of the day was science, Quinn's favorite subject. Today, they were building circuits.

"Here are your materials," Mrs. Lang said, placing a small tray in front of him.

Quinn ran his fingers over the wires and resistors, trying to piece together their shapes in his mind.

"You've got this, Quinn," Techo's mechanical voice whispered softly through his earpiece.

He began connecting the pieces, feeling for the tiny notches and grooves. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he concentrated.

"Need a hand?" a boy asked mockingly from across the table.

"No," Quinn said firmly.

The wires slipped from his fingers, landing with a soft clatter. Frustration bubbled up inside him, but he refused to give up. He tried again, and again, until finally, the circuit lit up with a soft glow.

"Not bad," Mrs. Lang said with a smile, but the snickering from the other students drowned out her praise.

Quinn stormed into the house, his footsteps echoing on the tiled floor. He dropped his bag by the door and slumped onto the couch.

Techo followed him, its sensors scanning his body language. "Rough day?" it asked.

"You could say that," Quinn muttered.

In the workshop, his father and uncle were busy as usual. The faint smell of solder and the hum of machinery filled the air.

"Is it ready yet?" Quinn asked, stepping into the room.

His father looked up, surprise flickering across his face. "What's ready?"

"The eye," Quinn said quietly. "Will it really work?"

His uncle glanced at his father, hesitation evident in his eyes. "We're close," his father said, his voice steady. "When it's ready, you'll see the world, Quinn. I promise."

Quinn nodded, hope flickering in his chest. He turned and walked back to his room, leaving Techo in the workshop.

As he lay in bed that night, the whispers from school played over and over in his mind. They doubted him. They pitied him. But he would prove them wrong.