Alternate Liberation

Moonlight filtered through the thin fabric of the tent, bathing the interior in a faint silver glow. Akira lay on his sleeping mat, his mind restless and uneasy. Despite the exhaustion from a day of outdoor activities, his racing thoughts kept him from finding a peaceful sleep.

Finally, he drifted into a dream. It began with the reflection of a man in a clear mirror. The figure wasn't him, but the resemblance was uncanny, though there were striking differences. Suddenly, the mirror shattered into countless shards, sharp and glinting, as the sound of breaking glass echoed loudly.

As the mirror broke, Akira felt himself being pulled into a void. He plunged into an endless dark abyss. A cold wind rushed past his face, carrying faint echoes of words he couldn't fully decipher. Although the voices were unclear, they felt eerily familiar and deeply unsettling.

Amid the darkness, a figure appeared—a man standing amidst a battlefield engulfed in flames and destruction. His clothes were drenched in blood, and his face bore an expression of profound pain and seething fury.

Behind him loomed an enigmatic symbol: two fish circling each other, one black and one white, forming a yin-yang-like emblem. The flames in the background illuminated the symbol, making the scene even more mysterious and haunting.

"I gave everything for this world…for the people I loved. So why did they repay me with betrayal?" the man's voice boomed, reverberating throughout the abyss. It was filled with bitterness and despair.

"I will return… to reclaim justice for Eleanar and everyone I've lost, even if it means staining my hands with more blood," the man declared, his fiery gaze unwavering with determination.

Before the vision faded, the man turned to face Akira directly. His burning eyes were filled with sorrow and hope. "To the one who will uncover the truth… I hope it will be you, my child."

The words my child echoed in Akira's mind, resounding like thunder. He jolted awake, his body drenched in cold sweat. Though the tent was quiet and still, his heart pounded wildly in his chest.

On Monday, a public holiday, the Wattanakul family returned home from their camping trip. By midmorning, they were unpacking and settling back into their routines. Later, they gathered around the dining table for lunch.

The table was laid with simple yet comforting dishes: stir-fried basil chicken with fried eggs, tofu soup with minced pork, and spicy glass noodle salad—all lovingly prepared by Irene. The atmosphere was calm, but Akira's mind was swirling with unanswered questions.

"Mom…" Akira spoke up during the meal, breaking the quiet.

"Yes, Akin?" Irene replied with a gentle smile.

"Last night, I had the strangest dream…" he began, recounting the shattered mirror, the dark abyss, and the mysterious man who had called him my child.

As he spoke, he noticed his mother pause, her hand frozen mid-motion as she reached for the soup. Her face seemed to pale slightly, but she quickly composed herself.

"Maybe it was just a regular dream, Akin," Parin interjected, his tone calm and measured.

"But it felt so vivid… so real, like it was trying to tell me something," Akira insisted, his voice filled with conviction.

"Sometimes our subconscious plays tricks on us," Irene added, her smile faint but reassuring. "Don't think too much about it, dear."

Akira nodded slowly, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the dream than they were letting on. His mother's eyes held a trace of worry, and his father avoided his gaze after speaking.

After lunch, Akira sat in the living room, his mind consumed by the dream's vivid images. The man's words and the symbol haunted him. Finally, he turned to his father, hoping for answers.

"Dad… where is my real father?"

Parin, who had been reading a book, looked up at his son. His gaze was calm, yet there was a depth to it that suggested he was hiding something.

"He's far away, in a place that's very hard to reach," Parin replied evenly. "Right now, we can't contact him, but trust me, we're doing everything we can to find him."

"What do you mean?" Akira pressed, his curiosity growing.

"In time, you'll understand everything," his father said simply, rising from his seat and leaving the room, his steps deliberate and measured.

Left alone, Akira's mind was a storm of questions and uncertainties. That night, he took out a small notebook and wrote down every detail of the dream, the words spoken by the mysterious man playing over and over in his mind.

"My child… was he my real father?" Akira murmured to himself, the thought both unsettling and intriguing.

He tucked the notebook beneath his pillow and lay down to sleep. Though his eyes eventually closed, his heart knew that the truth lay waiting for him in the shadows of the future, shrouded in mystery.