Scenario:In the 21st century Earth gave Birth to greatest genius ever. A genius who Master myriad of arts. Medicine to Engineering. Mathematics to Micro Biology. Weapon Designing to Environmental control. Music to Painting. Dance to Martial arts. He mastered Everything. He created so many things to help mankind such that he got the title 'Greatest Creator'. But what if he cant get justice for the loss of his loved one due to some political reasons? What if the governments which he served are trying to shield the criminals just because they are rich? Well, the Greatest creator turned into 'Greatest Destroyer'. He got his Revenge But the price is he is dead before realising his full potential.
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In the 21st century Earth gave Birth to greatest genius ever. A genius who Master myriad of arts. Medicine to Engineering. Mathematics to Micro Biology. Weapon Designing to Environmental control. Music to Painting. Dance to Martial arts. He mastered Everything. He created so many things to help mankind such that he got the title 'Greatest Creator'. But what if he cant get justice for the loss of his loved one due to some political reasons? What if the governments which he served are trying to shield the criminals just because they are rich? Well, the Greatest creator turned into 'Greatest Destroyer'. He got his Revenge But the price is he is dead before realising his full potential.
The Greatest Creator
Johnathan Clarke was a genius.
He was the kind of child who could read at age two and solve complex mathematical equations by the time he was five.
His parents knew he was special, but they never could have predicted just how extraordinary he would become.
Johnathan’s teachers were the first to recognize his potential.
They said he was a prodigy, a once-in-a-generation talent who could change the world if given the chance.
And they were right.
At seventeen, Johnathan graduated from high school and enrolled in college, where he quickly rose to the top of his class.
He was a natural at everything he tried—physics, chemistry, biology, engineering—and his professors were in awe of him.
They said he was the smartest student they’d ever had, and they were right about that too.
Johnathan Clarke was a genius, and everyone knew it.
But what no one realized was that he was also something else entirely.
The Greatest Destroyer
It all started with a phone call.
When she hung up, she turned to Johnathan and said, “Your father’s plane has crashed.
He’s dead.”
For a long time, Johnathan didn’t know how to process the news.
He’d lost his best friend, the person he’d always looked up to and admired most in the world.
It was like a piece of him had been ripped away, and he didn’t know how to go on without it.
But then, as the days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months, something inside him began to change.
His grief turned into rage—a deep and all-consuming hatred for the people who had taken his father away from him.
And slowly, that hatred began to consume him too.
Johnathan was an angry young man.
He didn’t like the world he lived in.
He didn’t like the people in it—corrupt politicians, greedy businessmen, and lazy bureaucrats who were more interested in lining their own pockets than helping the people they were supposed to serve.
Johnathan had always known that the world wasn’t fair.
But now that he’d seen the worst of it, he was determined to do something about it.
And so, at seventeen years old, he set out to change the world.
It was an ambitious goal for a boy just out of high school.
But Johnathan was no ordinary boy.
He was a genius—and he was about to prove it.
I graduated from high school when I was seventeen years old.
It was an early graduation, but then again, I’d always been a bit ahead of my peers.
I finished my first college degree a year later and moved on to a second one in a field that interested me more: genetic engineering.
It was a promising career path for someone with my talents, but I had my doubts about whether it was really what I wanted to do with my life.
I’ve always been a bit of a cynic by nature.
Even as a small child, I questioned everything and everyone around me.
I’ve been called gifted by some, but I’ve never seen myself that way.
I’m certainly intelligent—I’d be the first to admit that—but so are many other people who don’t share my level of skepticism about the world around them.
My parents have always said that my intelligence is what sets me apart from others my age—and there’s no denying that they’re right.
As a child, I devoured books upon books, everything from history to science fiction to philosophy.
I excelled in school not because I tried harder than anyone else but because it came naturally to me; I could grasp concepts quickly and easily, and I never forgot anything I learned.
My memory is one of my greatest assets; I have a near-photographic recall of every book I’ve ever read and almost everything I’ve ever learned in school.
But even as a child, I questioned whether education was really all it was cracked up to be.
Don’t get me wrong: I enjoyed learning new things and exploring new ideas.
Of course, this shouldn’t have come as a surprise to anyone; after all, I entered college with quite a reputation, my intelligence already well-known among my professors and peers before I ever set foot in the university classroom.
The university I chose was prestigious, but only because it happened to be the closest—and most convenient—for my needs.
The academic environment there was stimulating, yes, but it didn’t really challenge me; no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t seem to find myself interested in studying for hours upon hours just to get an “A” on an exam or write a paper that would be read once by my professor and then promptly forgotten about forevermore.
Even when I took on extra assignments or work-study programs, I always managed to complete them faster than my fellow students without sacrificing quality, leaving me with ample time on my hands to explore other interests beyond academia.
This isn’t to say that I didn’t enjoy college life, of course; in fact, quite the opposite is true—I reveled in it, thoroughly enjoying being surrounded by others who were so intelligent, so passionate, so eager to learn new things and better themselves through education.
I’ll admit that I rather enjoyed the attention I received from professors, too.
Many of them were in awe of me before they’d ever even met me, thanks in no small part to my reputation as a genius.
But once they got to know me, their admiration only grew all the stronger.
I’m not going to lie: I enjoyed being at the top of my class academically, coasting through my coursework with ease while my peers struggled and sweated just to keep up.
I liked being told by professors that I was one of the smartest students they’d ever taught—although I knew that this wasn’t due entirely or even primarily to my intelligence.
Instead, it had more to do with my attitude toward academia itself.
I’ve always been good at school because I love learning new things, but I’ve never been interested in getting caught up in the minutiae of individual subjects or in getting bogged down by details that I could easily look up later on if I needed them.
Instead, I preferred to look at the big picture when it came to my education, focusing on the broader view of life itself as I worked toward my own goals—the ones that I knew would matter more than any letters after my last name.
This was the environment I was in when I met Dr.
Eliza Hart, a physics professor whose intellect and beauty immediately captivated me.
Even though she was only five years older, Eliza had a certain maturity about her that I’d never seen before—and that I found myself drawn to more than I’d ever thought possible.
When I met her, I was twenty years old, still somewhat shy around women despite my genius-level intelligence.
I’d never had much luck in the romance department, despite the fact that most of my male classmates assumed that I could have any woman I wanted—and that every woman in the world wanted me.
I knew that this wasn’t true; I’m not an idiot, after all, no matter how others may see me.
But even so, I’ll admit that I was quite taken aback by the intensity of my attraction toward Eliza right from the start.
The first time I met Dr.
Hart, I’d just walked into my first college-level physics class, eager to get started on yet another semester of higher education.
I had a reputation for being brilliant—indeed, I was already one of the youngest students in my program—and I wanted to make sure that my first impression was a good one.
Unfortunately for me, my first impression turned out to be a little more heated than I’d intended.
As soon as I saw Eliza, I felt my breath catch in my throat.
She was slender with a sharp face, piercing eyes, and long, dark hair that tumbled down her back in a cascade of waves.
There was something about her that made my heart race, despite the fact that I’d never met her before—despite the fact that I didn’t even know her name.
She smiled at me when she saw me staring, but it wasn’t the kind of smile that I was used to from other women.
It wasn’t a smile of flirtation or desire.
Instead, it was the smile of someone who liked what they saw, who appreciated something for what it was—or rather, for who they were.
And for some reason, I found myself more drawn to her because of it than I ever had been to any girl who tried to grab my attention with overt flirtation or wanton desire.
I tried to ignore her beauty and focus on her words instead, but it wasn’t easy—not by any stretch of the imagination.
Eliza was a wonderful teacher, though, kind and patient with her students but also fiercely intelligent.
She knew what she was talking about when it came to physics, and she had a way of explaining concepts that were difficult for most people—concepts like quantum mechanics—in a way that everyone could understand.
I found myself enraptured by her lectures every time I attended her class, eager to learn more about the world as seen through the eyes of someone who understood it so much better than just about anyone else.
But as it turned out, Eliza was not only a wonderful teacher, but also a wonderful person.
As I got to know her better, I discovered that she was kind and compassionate, with a passion for helping others.
Unlike me, she believed in the value of human connection, both with others and with the world around us—and she knew how to inspire it, too.
She had a way of looking at people, of seeing them for who they truly were instead of for who they pretended to be, and helping them to become the best possible versions of themselves.
Without even realizing it, I found myself falling in love with her—not just because of her beauty or her intelligence, but because of her heart.
In a world filled with so much darkness, Eliza was like a little piece of light shining down on me.
I wanted to be near her all the time, to bask in her glow and learn from her wisdom.
At first, I tried to keep my distance, fearing the pain of loss so much that I was unwilling to form any real attachments in the first place.