Leon couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he would see the old man slowly aging backward, becoming young in a matter of seconds or a young man aging rapidly, turning into an old man.
Leon slowly got up. Since they were all sleeping under a single blanket, it was impossible to get out without disturbing the others. Lisa, who was sleeping beside him, opened her sleepy eyes, looking at Leon with a silent question."Bathroom," Leon gave a sheepish smile and darted away.
As Leon came outside, he saw Dan and his goons still up, sitting around a campfire , talking and laughing loudly among themselves while drinking alcohol.
Leon didn't dare move forward. Instead, he just sat in the corner of the building, where a section of the roof had long ago collapsed, creating a window to the night sky. Looking at the stars, Leon felt a strange feeling—to investigate, to know more about that old man. As his thoughts drifted into the void, Leon felt sleep wash over him.
Leon woke up in the middle of the street. Everything around him was a little blurry, as if fog had obscured his vision. He took a step forward, and then space around him shifted. Suddenly, he was standing in a secluded corner — the same one where Mathew and Bear had argued.
He instantly looked at a certain spot and saw an old man with a long, dirty white beard. His long, messy hair was covering his shoulders. The old man was so thin that every bone on his body was visible. He was sitting with his back resting against an old tree, his skin so pale that if it weren't for the rhythmic rising and falling of his chest, one might have mistaken him for a corpse.
But this time, the old man's eyes were open. Those deep blue eyes were looking straight at him. Suddenly, the fog around him vanished, and Leon's mind became clear. A realization came soon after:
I am dreaming.
But his mind felt as sharp and alert as when he was awake. As for why he knew—or thought he was dreaming—he didn't know. It came as instinct.
A chill ran down Leon's spine as he watched the old man, who started moving, and countless figures emerged from the shadows. Leon fell backward as he watched countless old men, all with similar faces, walk toward him. The similarities ended there—each figure had a different height, posture, hair, beard, and clothing. Some were even wearing women's clothing.
All the figures walked past him and merged into the old man sitting with his back to the tree. The old man's mouth opened, but no sound came out. Instead, a familiar voice sounded in Leon's mind. It was his own voice:
"Come to me, I have a gift for you."
Leon woke, startled. He looked left and right, spotting no one, and heaved a sigh of relief. The dream felt all too real.
"It was real."
Leon jerked backward as the voice spoke again inside his head. Sweat trickled down his forehead as Leon reassured himself, I'm still dreaming, I'll wake up any moment.
"It's not a dream," came the voice for a second time. Gathering his courage, Leon spoke:
"Wh–who are you?"
The voice replied, "Come to me, and you will see."
Fear gripped Leon's heart. Although the voice had only said "come to me" and didn't mention a location or time, Leon felt a sudden, irresistible urge to move forward. An image of an old man sitting on a bench appeared in his mind, gesturing for him to come closer.
Leon's body moved out of his control. Taking step after step, leaving the building, he came near Dan and his gang, still up and laughing. As he took another step, all the men—including Dan—fell to the ground. As Leon's body walked past them, he saw that they were sleeping. No matter what he tried, his legs refused to stop. His hands didn't move when he commanded them. He tried to scream, but no sound came out. Only his eyes remained under his control.
Even when he closed his eyes, his body didn't stop. It kept moving at its natural pace, sometimes turning left or right, until it came to a halt. Leon kept his eyes shut tight, hoping to wake up from this nightmare.
"Open your eyes," came a deep voice. Leon's eyelids opened without his permission.
Looking ahead, he saw himself standing in front of a bench. There, a similar old man with short, white hair was sitting, deep blue eyes looking right at him.
"Sit," he commanded.
And Leon's body obeyed.
"You can speak now." Leon felt his mouth return under his control. His heart was beating wildly in his ribcage. He was completely drained of sweat, and although his mouth was under his control, his teeth began to chatter.
"Calm down." Leon felt his heart settle into its natural rhythm almost instantly. His teeth stopped chattering, and he felt his mind calmer than it had ever been.
Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, Leon spoke in a calm and steady voice."Who might you be, sir? How can I help you?"
The old man stared at the sky as he spoke."That's my question. Who are you?"
Leon answered, "I am Leon. A beggar."
The old man turned his head, looking at Leon with deep blue eyes."Tell me, Leon. How do I look?"
With a calm mind, Leon replied, "You look good."
The old man spoke again."Describe how I look to you. My hair color, my age, my face, my gender."
Leon felt confused at the old man's words."You look like a man in his seventies, with white hair and a wrinkled face."
Hearing Leon's answer, the old man fell silent for a few seconds.
"Tell me how all of them look to you."
As the old man's words reached Leon's ears, countless figures emerged from the shadows.