The man with burn scar

In a remote, desolate corner of the world, a legend persisted—a man with a burn scar, a recluse who held the key to solving the greatest mystery ever known. He had disappeared from the world, hiding from the eyes of those who sought him, consumed by the shadows of his past. His face was never seen by anyone, and his name had been forgotten by most, save for a few who whispered it in hushed tones.

One such person was a young boy named Einstein. At just thirteen years old, Einstein was no ordinary child. He possessed a keen intellect and an insatiable curiosity that often led him to unravel secrets others could never dream of discovering. When he learned of the man with the burn scar, he became obsessed with finding him, convinced that this mysterious figure was the key to unlocking the mysteries of the universe.

Einstein embarked on his journey with little more than a worn-out map and a burning determination. The map was said to lead to the last known location of the man, deep within an ancient forest where time itself seemed to stand still. As he ventured deeper into the forest, the trees grew taller, their twisted branches blocking out the sun, casting eerie shadows on the ground.

Days passed, and Einstein’s resolve never wavered, though the forest seemed intent on stopping him. He encountered strange phenomena—a sudden change in the wind’s direction, the sound of whispers in the leaves, and the appearance of a mysterious gap in the trunk of an enormous tree. The gap seemed unnatural, as if the tree had split open just enough to reveal a hidden space inside.

Einstein was certain that the man with the burn scar was hiding within that mysterious gap. He circled the tree countless times, trying to find an entrance, but to no avail. The gap was smooth and seamless, offering no clue as to how it could be opened. Frustration gnawed at him, but he refused to give up. He was certain that the key to unlocking the mystery of the world lay just beyond that barrier.

As night fell, the sky darkened with heavy clouds, and the first drops of rain began to fall. The rain quickly intensified, turning the ground beneath Einstein’s feet into a slick, muddy mess. The air was filled with the sound of raindrops pelting the leaves, and the forest seemed to come alive with the scent of wet earth.

The tree’s roots, once buried deep beneath the soil, began to emerge as the rain washed away the dirt. Einstein watched in awe as the roots twisted and writhed, revealing a narrow gap at their base. Without thinking, he reached out to touch it, and as soon as his fingers brushed against the root, he felt a strange sensation, as if the root was pulling him in.

Before he could react, his hand was yanked inside the root, followed by his arm, then his entire body. He tried to scream, but no sound came out as the world around him dissolved into darkness. He felt as though he was being pulled through a tunnel, the sensation both terrifying and exhilarating. Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the pulling stopped.

Einstein’s eyes fluttered open, and he found himself lying on the floor of a dimly lit room. The air was thick with the smell of old books and burning wood. As he pushed himself up, he noticed a man sitting in a chair by the fireplace, engrossed in a book titled *Gravity*. The man’s hands were covered in burn scars, and as Einstein’s gaze traveled upward, he saw that the scars extended to the man’s neck.

The man must have sensed his presence because he abruptly stopped reading and slowly closed the book. He set it aside and rose from his chair, his movements deliberate and controlled. The firelight cast long shadows across his face, but the scars were unmistakable.

Einstein’s heart pounded in his chest as the man approached. He extended a hand toward Einstein, who hesitated before taking it. The man’s grip was firm but not harsh, and his expression was one of calm curiosity.

“My name is Manour Lop,” the man said in a voice that was surprisingly gentle, given his rough appearance. His eyes held a depth of knowledge and sorrow that made Einstein feel as though he was standing before someone who had lived a thousand lifetimes.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the crackling of the fire, which seemed to grow louder in the silence. Manour Lop studied the boy before him, as if searching for something in his eyes. Then, with a slight nod, he released Einstein’s hand.

“You have come a long way to find me,” Manour Lop continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “But the answers you seek are not what you expect. There are forces at work that you cannot yet comprehend. The mystery you seek to solve is not merely a puzzle—it is a burden.”

Einstein swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. “I need to know,” he managed to say, his voice trembling slightly. “I need to understand. Please, teach me.”

Manour Lop sighed, turning his gaze toward the fire. “Very well,” he said after a long pause. “But know this: knowledge comes with a price, and once you step onto this path, there is no turning back.”

He looked back at Einstein, his eyes filled with a strange mix of pity and resolve. “Are you ready to pay that price?”

Einstein hesitated for only a moment before nodding. He had come too far to back down now.

“Then let us begin,” Manour Lop said, a hint of sadness in his voice as he led Einstein toward the unknown.

To be continued…