Chapter 137: Goal.
Sleep left and never returned, leaving Dante to stare thoughtlessly at the wall. A while later, he got up and went to the bathroom, washing his face at the sink before spending another hour staring at his reflection, after which he returned to his bed and sat down at the edge.
Eventually, he fiddled around with his NIM and opened a file he hadn’t touched in a very long time. It was a screenshot from an article he had read in the past. The headline read {Brilliant Researchers Lost In Tragic Accident.}
Right under it was a photo of a young couple holding a trophy of some kind. The man was thin and pale, not very handsome, but not unpleasant to look at either. His most recognizable feature was the red hair on his head. The woman beside him seemed like a stark contrast. She had a kind of graceful beauty that was difficult to miss even in a large crowd, with raven hair that reached down to her shoulders.
Wilhelm and Iris Cipher Alistair, two of the most prominent scientists in the last few decades and leading researchers in the field of hereditary diseases and genetic disorders. Their joint efforts had led to many breakthroughs, greatly contributing to the genetic therapies that saved humanity from illnesses that were once thought impossible to cure.
Opening a browser, Dante began to search for any info he could find on the two. There were countless articles detailing their achievements, and new announcements whenever they reached a new milestone.
Dante noticed that he could recall each and every event mentioned in those articles. His understanding of the topics had improved compared to the past, but he still found himself struggling to grasp the details, and trying to decipher them only ignited the emotions he tried so hard to keep buried.
Eventually, he closed the browser and sprawled on the bed, staring at the ceiling.
’His goal...’
The articles had mentioned it more than once. Wilhelm and his wife Iris had dedicated their lives to treating every disease, but having lived with them for no less than fifteen years, Dante had an inkling that the truth was a little different. The problem was that he couldn’t remember exactly what it was.