Before the guard could finish his sentence, a delivery truck hurtled our way out of nowhere.
"Bang!" That was the sound.
Instinctively, Colin wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his embrace, shielding me from the impact.
But Damian... Damian wasn't so lucky. The truck sent him flying.
"Run... get out..." Damian's voice was raspy, barely there, as if he'd mustered all his strength for those words.
Get out.
He wasn't talking about escaping the immediate danger, but rather, like Truman from "The Truman Show," breaking free from a world under constant surveillance.
"Dr. Damian!" The hospital's security rushed over, surrounding Damian, and dialed 911 for an ambulance.
I stood frozen, my fingers numb.
Damian was a target too...
And me, I hadn't even come close to reaching Damian's level...
Who was behind all this? How could they be so terrifying?
For the first time, I felt a profound sense of dread and fear, from head to toe.
To those at the top, we were no more than ants, easily crushed if they so wished.
"This world is like a giant anthill, with clear divisions of labor and hierarchical structures... You don't touch the interests of the elite unless you can fight your way in. Otherwise... if you threaten their interests, your fate is sealed."
In the truck, Damian's words echoed in my ears.
From matters of capital and conspiracy, nations and wars, to neighborhood gossip and workplace rivalries...
Human ambition and darkness grow with one's station, shifting and magnifying.
"Colin, what's real and what's fake, in the world around Phoebe and me?" I whispered, gripping his hand tighter.
"Every one of us is the protagonist of our own world; everyone else is just background," Colin squeezed my fingers back. "To me, you're always the protagonist, but I don't want to be just background."
"What if... I'm not really Phoebe?" I looked into Colin's eyes.
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