The public reaction to Eustakio's claims quickly evolved into a storm of controversy.
At first, the audience was confused, unsure if his story of the metallic man was a joke, a hallucination, or the result of a profound spiritual encounter in the depths of the jungle. After all, history had seen other scientists and wise men change their perspectives after surviving life-altering events.
But after his second conference, the debate spilled into the public sphere. Newspapers ran opinion columns, and open letters began to appear, dissecting Eustakio's controversial claims.
"How could there be a metallic man in the jungle?"
"What finite resources is he talking about?"
"What does this mean for our exploitation of natural resources?"
The controversy only grew worse when Eustakio engaged directly with his critics, writing detailed responses and vigorously defending his position. Frank, witnessing the fallout, tried to reason with his father.
"Dad, these people don't understand what you've seen," Frank urged. "They think it's impossible. You're asking them to believe in a metal man in the middle of the jungle. Can't you approach this differently?"
For a moment, Eustakio hesitated, as though considering his son's words. But before long, his fervor returned, and he resumed his relentless preaching.
Soon, the backlash became unavoidable. Invitations for conferences dried up. Eustakio was quietly replaced in his university post, with the administration citing the need to avoid further controversy. One by one, other universities followed suit, barring him from using their campuses for any public talks.
For most men, this might have been the breaking point—a moment to reflect and step back. But not for Eustakio. He doubled down, moving his lectures to a modest church hall. There, he expanded his message, now openly criticizing deforestation and the exploitation of natural resources.
His critiques quickly caught the attention of the government, and they didn't like what they heard.
