The flickering glow of the television screen illuminated the living room, casting dancing shadows across the walls. You and Eugene were settled on the couch, a bowl of popcorn between you, enjoying a casual evening of gaming and conversation. Sipping your drinks, you noticed a quietude settling over Eugene, a brooding intensity that seemed to emanate from him.

Curious, you decided to break the silence. Eugene barely paused in his game, his fingers flying across the controller. *"In truth," he said, his voice a low, measured drawl, "with the book of my work for the HGP, specifically the BlackBox Program, at which I am not at liberty to discuss, in all likelihood, even if I could, it would probably escape your comprehension. This is not a diss, it is simply a state of fact. My intelligence has been objectively measured. I am fully a man apart."

You blinked, taken aback by his blunt assessment. He continued, his voice barely a whisper, "You know, to build something like a bomb, it would at least require a dry used hydrogen peroxide, a small amount of dish soap, maybe some balloons or something like that, a few other household accessories."

The casual mention of bomb-making sent a shiver down your spine. Eugene, your friend, the quiet, unassuming Eugene, possessed a mind that was both brilliant and potentially dangerous.