Days became a routine of practice, every instant a thin thread between furious studying and silent contemplation. Dhruv and Anika both were immersed in their individual lessons, but when twilight began to descend in the laboratory, their worlds crossed paths. One day, when Dhruv's eyes drifted over a weathered photo stashed inside Dr. Rudra's drawer, Anika stood close to him, an invisible witness. It was a family photo. An elderly man with a gentle smile stood next to a soft-looking woman, with two young boys in front. One was a younger Rudra; the other, whose eyes had a roguish but rebellious twinkle, was a stranger to Dhruv.
"Who are they?" Dhruv pointed to the photo.
Dr. Rudra stared at the photo, a profound sadness creeping into his eyes. "That man was my father," he said, his voice gentle with memory. "The greatest scientist I have ever known. He was a genius, not only in his mind, but also in his heart. He spent his whole life trying to find cures for diseases and making people better, particularly those who could not pay for it. He was a real philanthropist, donating nearly everything he made, keeping to himself a simple life so that others may have a chance at a better life."
He then pointed to the woman. "That's my mum. She died giving birth to my younger brother. The two lads are us." He hesitated, his eyes drifting across the picture of the naughty boy. "Dev was two years younger than me, but he was a genius. He was a prodigy. At the age of twenty, he comprehended science better than me and could conduct experiments with perfection that nobody else could match. But his brilliance was...tainted. He was greedy. He resented that our father distributed his wealth, that we were not living a life of opulence. He desired money, power, and prestige."
Rudra's expression darkened. "My father would attempt to convey his philosophy—that wealth was in knowledge and service, not in money. But Dev never comprehended. He wanted to flaunt his success, live in a mansion, and drive luxury cars. It led to an enormous argument between them one day. I attempted to intervene, but their rage was too much. That day, at the age of twenty, Dev left home and never returned."
The lab grew heavy with silence. "I was with my father alone after that," Rudra went on. "He cherished Dev more than he cherished me. He was heartbroken. He would spend his days in the laboratory, but his nights were spent with a sorrowful silence, waiting for a phone call that never came. Just two years after that, my father passed away in a car accident with a truck. I think that part of him had already surrendered when Dev left. My father left behind his laboratory and some fixed deposits for our studies. I invested that money in carrying on his work, carrying on his legacy. I became a scientist, just like him."
Dhruv nodded seriously, a feeling of understanding that arose within him. "What about your brother?" he asked at last.
"Five years after he had left, he phoned me," Rudra recalled, his voice tinged with aged sorrow. "That was nearly twenty-three years ago. He said he had a good job and was making a lot of money. He asked me to come and settle down with him. But I did not agree. I explained to him that I had to carry on our father's legacy. Dev got angry and cut the line. He never called again."
Rudra let out a sigh, the burden of what had passed weighing heavy on his shoulders. "You know, when Dev was a kid, he was like you. He'd tell me he wanted superpowers so that he could save the world and kill all the bad guys. He wanted the same thing, the same passion. And who knew he was going to turn into such a greedy individual who cares only about money?"
Anika, who had been sitting quietly throughout, felt a pang of sadness in the depths of her heart. Rudra's pain was an all-too-familiar echo of her own. She remembered her parents and the life that had been so brutally stolen from them. The loss was a common language. As Rudra concluded his tale, Anika blinked away the tears that had filled her eyes, her eyes locking onto Dhruv's. For an instant, they exchanged a silent understanding.
The discussion hung suspended between them, a lesson Dhruv hadn't anticipated. It was a harsh reminder that power, scientific or cosmic, had the potential to corrupt even the best of intentions.
The real battle, Dhruv understood, was not merely in mastering his powers, but in mastering the individual who commanded them. The greatest trial was not of power, but of integrity.