Cain Thorne doesn’t command attention. He doesn’t need to.
Whilst his twin brother Abel works the room with practiced charm, Cain disappears into laboratory shadows, building the impossible. Twenty-six years old, perpetually exhausted, carrying the weight of being the “difficult” twin.
Pale blue eyes that have seen too much, dark hair that never quite behaves, a barely visible scar on his neck from childhood. He moves through the Sunset Centre like a ghost – brilliant, essential, and almost entirely unseen.
Cain is the true architect of Mneme, the memory-editing technology that could revolutionise human consciousness. But in a world where charisma trumps competence, who gets the credit?
His biblical namesake was marked as a murderer. My Cain carries a different burden – the knowledge that sometimes the person closest to you is the one destroying you piece by piece.
He speaks in whispers but thinks in symphonies. Prefers the company of circuits and equations to people who smile with their teeth but not their eyes. When everyone else sees problems, he sees patterns waiting to be solved.
But what happens when the quiet genius finally stops being quiet? When years of accumulated pain reach critical mass?
In alternative 1925, memory is malleable. But some truths refuse to be erased.
Art of Oblivion drops February. Sometimes the most dangerous people are the ones nobody notices – until it’s too late.
Daria Ryzhikova Writer

