Within an hour, a neighbor knocked. Then another. They needed light to find their way, to calm their children, to see the stairs. Eldar realized then that his "future life" wasn't a destination he had to reach; it was a responsibility he had to build right where he stood.

To his neighbors, Eldar was just a quiet boy who worked at the local shipyard. To Eldar, the shipyard was a laboratory of geometry. He saw the way the cranes arched like the spines of ancient beasts and imagined them as the skeletons of a new world.

He stepped onto the balcony and clicked it on. A soft, amber glow cut through the rain. It wasn't just a light; it was a beacon.