Part 8: Damian’s Choice
In the dream, I met him once again.
He appeared even more tired than before.
Damian Stone. The great figure I once knew now seemed to be pursued, preparing to flee.
“It’s you. We’ve met before,” he said shortly as he looked at me.
“You still have a place to return to,” I told him, not with pity or from a position of superiority.
Simply, as the truth.
He fell silent for a while. But in that silence, I could sense the inner conflict.
“I’ve… carried too much. No, perhaps I’ve chosen too much,” he said.
His eyes wavered.
“I did it to protect my family. And for the sake of the nation. But before I knew it, my hands… they were stained with money and lies.”
At that moment, the dream world shifted.
We were in a place with no ceiling. In the vast darkness, I saw the writhing forms of “the shadowed ones” behind him.
They didn’t speak; they merely commanded with their presence.
By obeying their orders, his “freedom” was gradually being eroded.
I quietly took a step closer and said,
“What you gained by contracting with the shadows is all an illusion.
But what is ‘real’ inside you hasn’t disappeared.
Your child knows it, and those you once loved know it.”
At that moment, he looked directly into my eyes for the first time.
“If I lose everything and still remain real…”
Damian murmured.
“Perhaps I must be prepared to return to… that place.”
At that instant, the wind blew.
Though it was a dream, I could clearly feel the air stir.
It was as though something had been decided.
I was certain of it.
Damian’s soul had, for a brief moment, touched the “self” he once was.
8/15
★OliveR's Dream Journal★ 