Strangely, the sounds associated with these detonations reach me with significant delay, as if time itself warps in this oneiric space. The deep rumbling of explosions resonates in my chest, awakening memories I thought long buried.
The sky above this zone of chaos has darkened, as if an artificial night has fallen over just this portion of the landscape. Low clouds, tinted orange and red by the reflections of combat, form a threatening ceiling. Smoke and vapor from the explosions mingle with these clouds, creating an apocalyptic tableau that contrasts violently with the serenity of the field where I stand.
Suddenly, carried on the wind, voices reach me. A cacophonous mixture of shouted orders, cries of pain and rage. Though distant, this cacophony feels terribly familiar, reviving memories of past missions, moments of extreme tension when life hung by a thread.
Despite the apparent intensity of the fighting, I can distinguish no silhouettes, no precise movements. It’s as if I’m witnessing a ghost war, where only the effects remain perceptible. This surreal vision disturbs me all the more as it seems to embody all the violence and conflicts I have known or participated in throughout my career.
The contrast between this scene of desolation and the tranquility of the field where I stand proves striking.
I feel a strange dichotomy, as if two incompatible realities coexist without mixing.
On one side, nature’s peace and harmony; on the other, mankind’s chaos and destruction.
Curiously, as soon as I turn my gaze away from this scene of desolation, everything stops abruptly. The explosions, the screams, the smoke – all vanish as if they never existed. I find myself once again immersed in the field’s peaceful harmony, nature’s soothing sounds reclaiming their dominion. This abrupt transition is disconcerting, yet somehow reassuring. It’s as if I possess the power to choose which reality I wish to experience, to turn away from chaos and find peace.
I remain motionless for a moment, savoring the return to tranquility, before directing my attention elsewhere. As I turn my head to the right, a voice surprises me. The timbre belongs to a young man, almost a teenager, and he speaks words that resonate deeply within me:
“Find me.”