Robert entered the east wing with the duffle bag in tow.
The hallway smelled like chemicals and ambition, quiet, focused energy vibrating behind each door. He stepped into the first office without knocking.
The scientist inside was hunched over his desk, lost in calculations, when Robert placed a thick wad of cash right in front of him.
The man blinked. Once. Twice. Like his brain couldn't process what his eyes were seeing. Slowly, he reached out and touched the money. Then he picked it up and fanned through the notes.
It was real. Genuine. Cold, hard cash.
His fingers froze mid-motion as he squinted slightly, lips parting as he looked at Robert suspiciously.
"Where... where did you get this from?" he asked, making sure keep his voice down.
"Don't worry about that," Robert said quietly, already turning to leave. "Just bring that money home to your wife and kids. You deserve it."
The scientist held the money, stunned. Words failed him, too many thoughts rushing through his mind at once. Finally, he shook his head and muttered, "Thank you."
Robert simply nodded once and walked out.
Knock. Knock.
"Come in," said the second scientist, typing at his keyboard, barely glancing up before Robert dropped a bundle of cash on his desk with a loud thud.
The noise caught his attention. His eyes locked straight onto the stack, widening with surprise. A small grin crept onto his face.
"Damn, Robert. That was fast," he said. "I guess when you're in the line of fire, you find a way out."
"Something like that," Robert replied.
"Thanks." He reached for the cash, still smiling.
"You're not going to count it… ask where I got it from?"
The scientist shrugged. "Nah. That's your business. I trust you."
Those words echoed in Robert's head as he moved from office to office. Same ritual. Cash dropped. Quiet looks. Unspoken questions. No one judged. No one pushed. They needed the money just as much as he did.
By the time he returned to his own office, he was drained. The day had taken its toll, physically as well as mentally. But the lab had what it needed. His people had what they needed. For now, that was enough.
Months passed. And to say things picked up for Robert would be an understatement.
He hired more scientists. Finished more projects. Word spread. Funding poured in. The lab was alive again.
To his surprise, Derrick kept his distance. Every now and then, Robert got a call telling him to purchase from certain companies. But there was no equipment. Just inflated receipts and wire transfers that felt dirty to the touch.
Still, Robert complied. He told himself it was temporary.
His resurgence came with a price, he barely saw his family. Every day was a push toward something big: a breakthrough, the final puzzle piece, the moment everything changed.
They were working on synthesizing the DNA of dragonflies, the gene that let them regenerate limbs. The idea was to fuse that with earthworm regeneration. If they pulled it off, it could be the key to self-healing armour, second-skin tech for soldiers, explorers, even astronauts.
But no matter what they tried, the dragonfly sequence wouldn't cooperate.
Like the DNA itself refused to bend to the scientists' will.
Still, they were close. Close enough to draw global attention. The lab once left for dead now had headlines written about it. Robert graced science magazine covers. Sat on panels and Was called a visionary.
He hadn't forgotten how those same publications ignored his funding pleas. Now they couldn't get enough of him.
One night, he sat alone in his office, quietly amused at the irony. Wondering for the hundredth time, if calling Derrick had been the right choice.
He didn't know.
But outside his office, everything was about to change.
"DNA: 100% SYNTHESIZED," the machine rang out.
Silence. Then, screams of joy erupted.
"We've done it! We've done it!" one scientist shouted, leaping up.
Another covered his face in disbelief. "It's real? We actually did it?" Tears streamed down his cheeks.
One scientist bolted from the lab, skidding past Robert's office, then doubled back and ran inside.
"You can't just barge in here like that!" Robert shouted.
"Sorry, Robert, but this can't wait. We did it. We actually did it!"
"Did what?"
"The DNA. Dragonfly. Synthesized."
Robert's eyes widened. "No…"
"Yes!" the man shouted , leaning over Robert's desk. "Come. You have to see it."
They ran down the corridor and there it was on the monitor, in bold white letters:
DNA SYNTHESIZED.
Robert stared at the screen. His hands trembled. His eyes blurred.
It wasn't just data.
It was every sleepless night. Every sacrifice. Every missed birthday. Every desperate deal.
It was his parents' belief. His wife's faith.
He whispered through a smile, tears running down his cheeks, "Maybe I'll get a Nobel Prize…"
Then he quickly snapped back.
"Great work, everyone," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "Tonight, we celebrate."
A few hours later…
Robert burst through the front door of his home.
"Honey! Gabriel! Daniel! Get in here, quick!"
Nicole rushed in, panicking. "What's wrong?"
"Boys!" Robert called.
"Alright, Dad…" Gabriel mumbled, coming down the stairs.
"Do I really need to come down for this?" Daniel groaned from upstairs.
"Yes, unless you want to be grounded," Robert said, grinning.
They all gathered in the living room, confused.
"I did it!" Robert shouted.
"Did what, Dad?" Daniel asked. "You do a lot of stuff. Be specific."
"That's exactly what I was thinking," Gabriel muttered.
Nicole smiled. "Let your father speak."
"The experiment. The DNA. My life's work. I finally cracked it!"
Nicole gasped. "No way!"
"We synthesized it. It's done."
She rushed over and hugged him. "I'm so proud of you."
"You believed in me when I didn't. This? This was all of us. You guys were my why. When I felt like giving up , I thought about you guys and pushed through."
He looked at his sons with a grin, his eyes full of love. "Bring it in guys. Don't make me beg."
Daniel groaned. "Do we have to?"
Gabriel nudged him. "Come on. This is, like, his Avengers moment."
They laughed and hugged.
Robert held them close, years of weight lifting off of his shoulders.
Later, he planned an extravagant celebration. But for now, as his phone buzzed with unread messages, interview requests, and partnership offers, he simply stood there, smiling because for the first time in a long time… he felt like he belonged.