When Viktor’s turn arrived without previous advice, Viktor thought about how he never expected something to happen. No dream foresaw his forsaking. To Viktor, it seemed that dreams had a quality that could not be understood. A quality that was linked to his existence. He never wondered what a dream meant. Whether they conveyed anything at all or as any part of his existence was a mystery that could not have a representation in the conscious mind was dismissed as irrelevant. For Viktor, life itself had no meaning.
Someone, perhaps a soldier Viktor couldn’t tell, dragged him out of his confinement. Images paraded in front of his single eye. One showing medical equipment, another something that looked like a soldier, spheres, more technology, and finally, a static image: a wall. Until now, his life had lacked sense. One day he could eat vegetables, and on the other, perhaps a human being. “Never take something for granted,” her mother interrupted his thoughts. A death-row. A path towards death had the shape of the wall. Even though a wall leads nowhere. Did the death row lead to nowhere as well? Viktor will understand soon that fate is whimsical.
The time that Viktor had been scheduled for execution was the annual glory day that the emperor celebrated with his country. A glory day usually in this nation consists of two slices: twelve hours for the emperor's long speech, events, or formal stuff, and twelve hours for a national party. This nation usually prays before the emperor is shown inside their heads by the brain intercommunion. The emperor on this day, shy and reserved, was simply thankful. Viktor didn’t know anything about the celebration, and yet this glorious day would allocate a new day for him.
The sage would be presented on the big scene this day. A man said that his existence was nil for creatures beyond the walls. Yet, it is paramount for those creatures inside them. A sage who was neither a promise nor capable of dreaming. Her body is a sack of bones. Her head is a coherent fiction. She drinks from Eden the wisdom of life. A mechanical Eden where suffering has been eradicated. Therein, no one is afraid; there is no trembling, for time has finally been stopped. Is there a greater devil than time? Paradise would have still been a thing if it weren’t for that tendency to mess things up inside of humans. Without time, there are no morally justified actions. Nothing can go wrong where stillness dwells.
The sage had been a relief for those in need of guidance. Especially those concerned with finding a purpose in life. The sage had culled all their fiends, which precipitated great anxieties inside them. Most of these demonic thoughts didn’t abandon their host without help. A drug could have been administered, but those malfunctioning minds needed a higher and more perennial solution: a woman who had seen Eden and, by wisdom alone, healed and exorcised the insanity that propelled unattainable illusions or fantasies that, while whispering, only ensured them to commit deplorable acts. What else could have happened in a world where nature had the upper hand?
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The sage was a woman who no one else had actually seen. She was only there, watching them. From above, but without a face. A face from another world, perhaps. One where humans weren’t humans but anything. A beast is not in need of sages; everyone is a sage, for everyone knows what it is to live. But as for the magicians (humans), their condition had been burdened by their technological prosthetics. Prosthetics that somehow rendered reality as “common.” Every new scientific advancement, or, in the beast’s words, any new magical discovery, simply normalized their existences, and a flamethrower was as common as the hand with which one gropes. But at the same time, when one gropes in the darkness, when there is no light, one finds, after a while, oneself navigating immensity, the infinite. And this is how science works: pushing us forward, creating progress, and therefore meaning. Toward uncertainty.
A few words by the sage would have been enough to assure these people that they could live without worrying. The sage was needed because when one meets peace, happiness is there. As the chief property of stillness, happiness stands there with pride. Everyone needed the faceless sage.
Viktor was about to be put down. A door opened suddenly, and a penetrating sound penetrated the room. It was a car accident. A woman was so happy after meeting the sage for the first time that her ecstasies blurred her mind, and she crashed against the wall where Viktor was waiting for death. The woman was later reported as dead, but in a peaceful state. A blissful death. A broad smile was painted on her face. She died happily. No one knew what she talked about with the sage, but she finally found herself at peace.
Viktor thought about the commotion. What were the odds? Near zero? Whatever. No one cares about the odds when one’s fortunate. He was ready to die. He had always wrestled with his own mortality. Needless to say, making a decision was easy. Everyone else had taken decisions, but no one really knew what they were deciding. What covenant have we sealed without further thought? Simply complying with whatever the world and nature have brought about. And this was also the case for beasts. The beasts were fine with whatever happened. Born without desires, their heads now only see illusions. And after a few minutes, Viktor abandoned the cold room. Toward the sunny exterior.