John Xentras has everything: fame, intelligence, recognition, and a life most would envy. Yet inside him, there is nothing. No joy, no sadness, no fear. Only an unfathomable emptiness slowly consuming him. At twenty-four, after achieving what others dream of, John faces the most devastating truth—he is incapable of feeling.

His existence becomes a desperate search between science and philosophy, trying to uncover the origin of his condition. No medical diagnosis or therapy can explain his disconnection from the world. Surrounded by a society that worships the emotions he will never experience, John embarks on an introspective journey to the very limits of the human mind and identity.

As he dives deeper into his own abyss, he begins to question the very nature of humanity itself: are we defined by what we feel or by what we think? Is there meaning in a life devoid of emotion?

Between lucidity and madness, between science and soul, John Xentras will face the cruelest revelation of all—to discover what it means to feel, he must first understand what it truly means to be human.

That is the question that has haunted me from the very moment I gained full awareness of my own existence. In my constant search for an answer that no one seems capable of giving me, I have learned to ignore medical verdicts, specialists' opinions, and the empty words of those who try to decipher me without ever understanding the silence. Even so, I persist in my search; even if it forces me to fit into environments that conflict directly with my true nature.


Throughout my journey, I have observed how human beings cling to their desires to fill their voids, believing they possess the knowledge required to rule the world. A ridiculous premise, of course, but who am I to judge their illusions? While I attempt to find that missing piece in my own machinery, I move among those I consider "useless"—when, under that very same analytical logic, I am the true loose end. However, there is a common denominator that unites all of humanity, whether they are arrogant, vulnerable, rich, or destitute: the longing to answer the exact same questions:


"Is it really just about being born, living, and dying?"


These are questions that lack any absolute answer. What people usually call "truths" are nothing more than biased opinions based on how they choose to survive. For that reason, their words carry no statistical weight for me. Perhaps I contradict myself when structuring my thoughts, but does it really matter? Not at all. My sole purpose is to decipher what I have never possessed: to understand why I was conceived outside of what defines us as human. That is all I seek.


My name is John Xentras. I am twenty-four years old. To the public eye, I am an ordinary man who has achieved success and recognition, but the design of my birth sets me apart from everyone else: I am organically incapable of experiencing any trace of emotion—be it happiness, anger, melancholy, or physical pleasure.


My entire life, throughout this long journey that has brought me to this point, has been reduced to the tireless pursuit of a single answer:


Epilogue