"No matter how hard he tried, the world never let him win."
Subra Fitz sat at his cluttered desk, his fingers tightening around a screwdriver as he made the final adjustments to his greatest invention.
Around him, piles of scrap metal, wires, and circuit boards littered the small, dimly lit apartment room. His tiny desk was covered in tools, old notebooks filled with calculations, and a single flickering lamp that barely illuminated the space.
But Subra didn't care about the mess.
He had spent the last two years working on this machine—his masterpiece.
A fully automated AI recycler.
It could break down waste materials and reassemble them into something new—from trash to useful objects in minutes. Broken electronics? Repaired. Plastic? Reinforced into durable bricks. Rotting food? Turned into compost.
If he could prove that his invention worked, he'd win the National Science & Engineering Competition. The prize? A full scholarship to one of the best universities in the country.
It was his only escape. His only chance at a better life.
The machine hummed softly as he ran the final test. Metal gears shifted. Tiny robotic arms moved with precision. The AI adjusted in real-time, processing every input instantly.
It worked. Flawlessly.
Subra exhaled, for the first time in years, feeling something close to hope.
"Nothing can go wrong."
------------------------------
The National Science & Engineering Competition was held in a massive hall, bright with artificial lights and packed with students from across the country. Cameras flashed. Excited chatter filled the air.
Subra walked in, clutching the strap of his worn-out backpack. His stomach twisted in nervous anticipation.
This is it. This is my moment.
Then, he saw it.
A stage. A crowd gathering. A massive screen displaying his invention.
Except… someone else was presenting it.
Three familiar figures stood confidently before the judges—his "friends."
Subra's blood turned ice-cold.
They were explaining his machine's functions, word for word, as if they had built it themselves. The screen showed detailed blueprints—his blueprints—with their names on the project.
His heart pounded. No. No No NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO, this ISN'T happening.
"This is a mistake. They wouldn't—"
Then, one of them, Jason, smirked as he spoke into the microphone.
"We spent two years perfecting this technology," Jason said, voice smooth and confident. "It will revolutionize how we recycle waste."
The audience clapped. The judges nodded in approval.
Subra's invention. His dream. His future.
Stolen.
His body moved before his brain could catch up.
He stood up.
"That's mine!" His voice shook, raw with disbelief.
Silence fell over the room. Hundreds of eyes turned toward him.
The judges frowned. One of them, a gray-haired man in a suit, adjusted his glasses.
"Excuse me?"
Subra's heart pounded in his ears. "That's my project! They stole it! I designed that AI! I built that machine!"
Jason and the others barely reacted. Instead, they exchanged amused glances, as if this was just a minor inconvenience.
Then, Jason sighed dramatically. "I was afraid this would happen," he said, shaking his head. "Look, I know Subra helped in the early stages, but he didn't actually contribute to the final design."
"That's a lie!" Subra shouted. His voice cracked. "I built it from nothing! You took everything—"
A female judge raised a hand. "Do you have proof?"
Proof.
Subra reached for his tablet, fingers trembling. He had everything stored there—designs, blueprints, AI code, test results—
But the files were gone.
His stomach dropped. He tapped the screen desperately, searching every folder, every backup.
Everything had been deleted.
His hands shook as he lifted his head. Jason smiled at him from the stage, eyes cold and triumphant.
He had erased the evidence.
No proof. No way to fight back.
One of the judges sighed. "If you don't have proof, then these are just accusations. Please don't disrupt the event."
Subra's world spun.
This isn't happening. This can't be real.
But it was.
The judges nodded at Jason's team. The decision had already been made.
And then, the final blow—
"The winners of the National Science & Engineering Competition… Jason Carter and his team!"
Thunderous applause filled the room as the thieves gladly accepted their stolen trophy. The cameras flashed.
Subra stood there, frozen.
They were shaking hands with officials. They were handed a trophy.
That should have been mine.
No, That was mine.
But no one cared.
No one believed him.
And his future—was gone.
-----------------------------------------
The next day, Subra stormed into the principal's office.
He slammed his hands on the desk. "You have to listen to me! They stole my project!"
The principal barely looked at him, fingers tapping against his desk.
"Subra," he said slowly, "we already spoke to Jason and his team. They claim you only helped in minor ways."
"That's a lie!"
The principal sighed. "Do you have any evidence?"
The question hit him like a slap.
Subra's entire body tensed.
No proof.
No one would listen to him without it.
"They deleted my files," he said through clenched teeth. "But I can explain how the machine works—ask them! They don't even understand the AI functions!"
The principal gave him a tired look.
"Subra, the competition is over. Accusing the winners of fraud without proof is serious. And… there's one more issue."
A file was pushed across the desk toward him.
It was an expulsion letter.
His breath caught in his throat.
"Subra Fitz is expelled for plagiarism."
Everything stopped.
"What…?" His voice was barely a whisper.
Jason and his team had twisted the story first. They had already told the school that Subra tried to steal their work.
Now, he wasn't just a loser—he was a fraud.
Universities wouldn't take him. He was blacklisted.
No future.
No way out.
He left the office in a daze, walking through the empty halls of the school for the last time.
Outside, the world continued as usual. Cars passed. Students laughed with their friends.
But to him, everything was colorless.
Dead.
The weight of his failure crushed him, heavier than he could bear.
Subra sat in his tiny apartment, staring at the blank walls. His hands curled into fists.
Years of effort, sacrifice, pain—
For nothing.
He clenched his jaw, his entire body trembling.
His mind whispered cruel truths:
"You should have known. The world never lets you win."
The lamp flickered, casting long shadows around him.
And for the first time in his life, he had no idea what to do next.