Magnus turned fully to face Simon, his yellow eyes locking onto him.
"I told her the same thing," Magnus said, his voice dropping in volume as if he were reflecting on a past regret. "And I'll tell you the same now. An experiment should never ever put lives at risk or worse claim them."
After hearing those words Simon felt his stomach twist. His mind raced to justify himself, but before he could speak, Magnus leaned in slightly, his voice quieter but no less firm. "Be honest, Simon."
Simon swallowed hard, guilt and defiance warring within him. Finally, he met Magnus's unyielding gaze. "Professor Magnus, I… I know I can't bring the dead back, but I'm not responsible for their deaths. The people who broke into my home caused this, not me!"
Magnus's expression remained unreadable. "Alright," he said, his voice sharp with intent. "Then tell me—what was your true purpose? What were you trying to achieve?"
He straightened himself and, with a tremor in his voice, replied, "Professor Magnus, I… I believe I have discovered something incredible." His words were shaky, but his eyes held a glimmer of something deeper—an undeniable spark of hope. "A way to create miracles through science."
Magnus's eyes widened, his expression unreadable for a long moment. Then, he straightened, his grip on his staff tightening as it trembled faintly in his hand. "Science?" he repeated, almost whispering the word.
"Yes," Simon replied, more firmly now.
Magnus's expression hardened, and he shook his head slowly. "No."
"No?" Simon asked, confused his voice faltering.
Magnus stepped closer to Simon and his yellow eyes bore into Simon's with wisdom and sorrow.
"Miracles are dangerous, Simon,"
"They are a force of nature—unpredictable, untamed."
He paused, his gaze narrowing slightly as he tilted his head. "But science… hmm." He chuckled bitterly, almost to himself.
"It holds its own dangers. You see, it's not the miracles you need to worry about—it's the human desire to conquer them."
Magnus fixed his yellow eyes on Simon. "Tell me, Simon," he asked suddenly, "What year is it now?"
Though unsure of where the question was leading, Simon hesitated only briefly before replying, "It's the year 6115, according to Earth's calendar."
Magnus's brow furrowed, and he let out a heavy sigh, his voice dropping into a murmur as if speaking to himself. "So… it has been 4,090 years since then."
Simon frowned, confused. "Since what?"
Magnus ignored the question, instead focusing on Simon's earlier words. "When you answered me, you said 'according to Earth's calendar.' Why did you add that clarification?"
Simon's confusion deepened, but he answered carefully.
"Because… there are many calendars, Professor. Different religions, races, and cultures have their own ways of marking time. But ultimately, everyone acknowledges Earth's calendar, even if they use their own. It's the universal point of agreement… a foundation."
Magnus nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. "Quite indeed," he murmured, his tone both approving and pensive.
After a long pause, Magnus's voice softened, taking on a more somber tone. "Simon, I'm going to tell you a story—a story about one of my students."
His gaze shifted, as though the weight of the memory pulled him deeper into the past. "Her name was Victoria Walsh. She was one of my students… a brilliant one." His eyes grew distant, lost in a moment only he could see.
"She lost her daughter in a tragic accident," Magnus continued. "After that, she was never the same. Her mind, her heart—they became consumed by grief." He paused, his voice growing quieter.
"Simon, tell me… do you believe there is a miracle that can bring back the dead?"
Simon was taken aback by the question. He didn't know how to answer. After a long silence, he finally whispered, "I… I don't know."
Magnus smiled faintly, though there was no joy in it.
"Victoria asked me the very same question. One of the characteristics of my race is that we never lie. So, I answered her truthfully."
Simon's eyes widened in anticipation. "What did you say?"
Magnus's gaze turned heavy, as though the weight of his answer pressed upon him even now. "'Yes,' I told her."
"'There is a way to bring back the dead.'"
Simon's breath caught in his throat. For the first time, he felt truly stunned, his mind racing to process what he'd just heard. "What?" he asked, unable to mask his disbelief. His heart hammered in his chest as he stared at Magnus in awe and growing respect. "You mean it's… it's possible?"
Magnus's expression remained grave. "I told her what I am now telling you, Simon. There is a way." He paused, his voice laden with meaning.
"Truth is not shaped by expectations; it is merely the story of what has been." Magnus began, his tone grave.
"The journey ahead is not as you envision."
"It does not lead to redemption, nor salvation."
"It is a road that ultimately ends in ruin—only for those who dare to tread it foolishly."