Chronos Record:Tale of Eternity
Aristotle Thorne has always been a man of relentless curiosity—but only for questions *he* deemed worthy. For over forty years, a single riddle has consumed him: **“Which came first—the chicken or the egg?”**
Refusing to trust the internet (“*Half of it’s lies!*”), he never Googled it. He never asked friends, family, or colleagues, fearing their answers would “taint” his pure, independent quest for truth. The question became his secret burden, a solitary obsession he guarded fiercely.
Years ago, in a rare moment of youthful openness, he’d whispered the riddle to his young wife, Elara. *Big mistake.*
Women, Aris believed, **cannot keep secrets**. And true to his cynicism, Elara—gently, innocently—shared his “private” puzzle. First with her sister. Then at family dinners. Eventually, even their grandchildren debated it over homework. Aris seethed silently, watching his sacred riddle become a family joke.
Now, old and bedridden, Aris lies in a sunlit room, his body failing. As death’s shadow lengthens, the chicken-or-egg question surges back—**sharper than ever**. He *knows* the answer now, of course. His wife explained it years ago. His physicist grandson sketched evolutionary biology on a napkin. The internet (which he finally, grudgingly consulted) confirmed it.
But the knowledge tastes like ash.
*It wasn’t* ***his*** *discovery.* It was handed to him—by relatives, friends, strangers. The truth he’d hunted for decades felt stolen.
With only hours left, Aris turns his mind to a new, darker question: **“What comes after death?”**
As he ponders this, a low, guttural curse seems to ripple through the room. *“Imagination,”* he scoffs.
Then—**CRACK!**
A lightning bolt slams into the ancient oak tree outside his open window. The sky is cloudless.
Before Aris can react, a second bolt forks downward—not toward the tree, but *toward him*. It bends physics, slicing through the air in a jagged arc. His hair stands on end. Time slows.
He feels it coming…
**THUD.**
Darkness.
And in that void, Aristotle Thorne finally faces the ultimate answer—unfiltered, undeniable, and utterly his own.
