"Let us begin the discussion of my latest discovery. The origin point," astronomer Gustav Silber explained to his assistant, "is where the entire universe was formulated, and then subsequently created. It is the finite point in the universe which remains static despite the constant flow of time and space occurring around it. It neither attracts nor repels matter, and is exempt from all known laws of physics—this means it is likely what many people refer to as the supernatural or a divine entity. All that exists expands and contracts around this single point. Emil, I have succeeded in calculating the exact location of the origin point so I may observe it for myself. Soon, I shall present this discovery to the world, and mankind's collective ideology will be forever changed by it!"

Emil Weiss, Gustav's assistant and protégé, promptly felt the urge to argue his mentor's unorthodox claim. However, the reverence with which he held his mentor restrained him from reacting in any way that may be condescending.

Emil cleared his throat first, then said, "I question the viability of your hypothesis, Herr Silber. Surely you must understand why I am skeptical. You must present evidence if you wish for me to verify your claims regarding this.”

"Of course, of course. Your skepticism is only natural. I anticipate your eagerness to observe the origin point for yourself, but you must be patient. First, I must confess my intentions to you. I chose you to be my assistant because I believed that your passion for astronomy and your burning ambition could be fostered," Gustav said, placing his hand on Emil's shoulder. "But, I also saw you as a humble and open-minded individual. You do not possess the arrogance that so many other young men have. That is why I trust you as my successor. That is why I must ask that you to take a leap of faith, and soon the evidence will be revealed to you.”

"Faith, Herr Silber? Faith is not a word I am familiar with," Emil said in jest.

“Yes, faith, it is to believe in something you cannot see. I have yet to share the finer details of my theory—but surely you trust my expertise within the field of astronomy, do you not?"

"Yes, Herr Silber. Unconditionally so. That is why I am here."

"Then you must have faith in me."

"It is not quite that simple," Emil said while scratching the back of his head. "You are a brilliant man, perhaps the greatest mind in Austria. I have seen much evidence of that. It is a privilege to be trusted by a scientist of your stature."

"I am flattered by your words, Emil, and I do realize your doubts come from a place of pure logic. I implore that you keep an open mind, for I am on the cusp of a discovery which shall bring changes to the world which one could only dream of."

"I shall support your undertaking in this matter," Emil said, parting his blonde-almost-white hair while biting his lip. "However, I will only concede that your findings are legitimate when I may see them with my own eyes. Then I shall accept your hypothesis as fact. It is the scientific way."

Gustav murmured something incomprehensible, visibly dismayed by Emil’s reluctancy to accept his hypothesis. He sauntered across the observatory to his desk, where he sat down and opened a drawer, and removed from it a small key made of copper. Emil watched Gustav from a distance, wondering if his mentor was perhaps disappointed in him for not possessing the capability of blindly putting faith into such a grand hypothesis.

Gustav pinched the key between his index finger and thumb and said to Emil, "You must not reveal this to anyone—this key, nor the information I have given you about the origin point. It is not because I am unconfident in my research—it is only because I fear that my work will be spurned. That is why I feel my theory must remain absolutely classified. As for the key, I simply ask you to keep it with you and use it when you feel you must.”

"I understand. I will speak of this to no one," Emil said.

Gustav glanced over and made brief eye contact with Emil while slipping the copper key into his coat pocket. Emil wondered what the key would open, but decided it best to not ask this question for the time being.

"I have never asked you this," Gustav said, "but I feel it is important now. Do you believe in God, Emil? Any one or more of them?”

Emil smirked and shook his head at once. At first, he could say nothing in response to such a question. The professor had never once mentioned theology in any of his research.

"Politically speaking, I am a secularist," Emil retorted.

"That doesn't answer my question. Do you believe in God?"

"It's possible there is such a being."

"Yes or no, Emil?"

Gustav was pressing for an answer to a question which made his young assistant more unconfortable than any other question that could be asked of him. For a moment, Emil flashed back to his Lutheran upbringing. He had renounced his faith in Christianity in his teenage years. It was not something he would openly admit in a casual conversation, but he felt compelled in this unusual moment to confess his true feelings to his mentor.

"No," Emil finally replied. "I do not. Why must you ask this?"

"If it is possible to prove the existence of a creator, or the nonexistence—" Gustav stopped mid-sentence and massaged his temples, letting out a deep sigh of exhaustion. He stood from his seat and approached Emil, making eye contact once more, and the two men were silent.

"It could unite all man under a single doctrine," Emil said, offering his opinion as a means to end the awkward silence. "To remove faith and superstition from the world would bring peace."

"That is one possibility. The other," Gustav replied, "is humanity will be completely destroyed by it!"

Gustav was staring directly into Emil's eyes, not blinking, beads of sweat running down his cheek and forehead. Emil noticed the dark circles under Gustav's eyes, his hair was unkempt and his beard had grown down far onto his neck.

"You appear to be quite distressed, Herr Silber. When did you last sleep?"

"Distressed only begins to describe what—"

Again, Gustav stopped mid-sentence. He then retreated back to his desk and slouched in his chair. The two astronomers worked every night, but Gustav seemed drained completely like never before as the sun's first morning gleam emerged from over the horizon, thus ending Emil’s work shift.

"I must go home and rest. I hope you will soon do the same," Emil said, warily moving toward the front entrance of the observatory. "I will see you when the evening is late, professor.”

Professor Silber made one last comment to Emil as the young apprentice began to shut the door behind him, "Do what you must. None of it matters at all if we are already dead."