Knowing that the world would die along with me, the endless hatred in my heart lessened a little.
Some time later, my son came to visit me. I had forgotten about him. Well, I can't forget anything, but the thought of him had somehow become lost in the countless knowledge that floated around in my mind.
It was about thirty years since I had last seen him in person; he was now a forty-year-old man, and he resembled me just a little shorter, with a toned body, the same hair and eye color.
My appearance wasn't the only thing he had inherited; he had also inherited a portion of my intelligence.
He was nowhere near as smart as me, but he was a genius in his own right. I remember glancing at an article title: *[Evander Alala, son of the great Kane Alala, was rewarded with the highest title for revolutionizing the medical field.]*
