Hasnainkhalid

The Generation of Monsters. Content Warning. AI-Generated.

The storm that night was loud enough to wake the dead—perhaps that was why Elias was awake when it happened. He had been sitting in the laboratory, staring at the notes sprawled across the table, his ink-stained fingers trembling. For months, he had been working in secret, away from the academy that had cast him out, away from the voices that called him mad. They had mocked him when he spoke of building life from death. But he had gone further than any of them had ever dared.