8 Hours of Eternity

Hugo Sahuquet

Scenario for a thriller. In homage to the passengers of flight MH370, who disappeared on March 8 2014.

In the air terminal, I read my mail one last time.


« The package is inside the plane. Make sure it arrives safely at Beijing. Extraction teams will be on site.

We suspect other intelligence agencies to be involved in the case. Control and suppress any suspicious behavior on the aircraft. »


I look around the waiting room. Fellow Chinese travelers, Asians citizens, few westerners… Nothing out of the ordinary. We are all waiting in silence. A woman is playing with children, the only voice of the room.

I am reading the newspapers headlines, nothing worth mentioning. I walk around the room. I can't stand waiting. Then the loudspeaker fills the silence: « Flight MH370 for Beijing is now ready for boarding, all passengers are invited to door… »

Everyone stands and takes its stuff. I do the same and join the line. The hostess takes my passport, runs the usual checks, then « Thank you Madam, have a good flight »

I follow the flow of travelers, scrutinizing each one of them. If I was assigned to this mission, then something is bound to happen. I'm sure of it. As I enter the aircraft, I stick discretely a microphone near the cockpit.

While going through the alleys, I gaze at the cabin crew. Everything seems to concur with the information I've been given. I put down my luggage and greet the neighbor person. Everyone is getting into its seat. A man wants to go to the toilet but the stewardess asks him to wait until we're airborne.

The captain begins his speech: “Ladies and Gentlemen, we are now in the final preparations before takeoff, I am your captain...”

I divert my eyes towards the window. After years of flying, I could certainly recite this speech by heart. I let myself slide into my seat. I am in first class, not for comfort unfortunately… this is the only way to the cockpit.

The plane is released from its mooring then begins its route to the runway. I enjoy the lights of Kuala Lumpur for a few instants. The run begins, and we leave the ground.

Right after takeoff, the man I remember goes to the toilet. I wait for about half an hour before I leave my seat and walk around the aircraft. Lights are dim, it is past one in the morning… many are already sleeping. Children are overexcited by the flight but will soon fall to tiredness.

I'm taking pictures of all the rows with a hidden camera, then I check the faces of those I couldn't see before… As I compare the photos with my database of passports, there are two suspicious people… I think they are missing… an Austrian and Italian… I need to look into it.

At the same time, I hear the co-pilot in the cockpit say: « All right, good night. »

The next second, all the screens in the seats and lights go off. I wait in silence. Something is wrong… Then I feel the plane turning slowly. It has no reason to do this manoeuvre, what's going on…? The aircraft is gaining altitude. I walk to the cockpit.

- Captain, my name is Li Si, from the Air Police. There is something I need to talk to you about.

No answer. I repeat:

- Captain, I am an Air agent, I'd like to speak with you.

Still silence. A stewardess approaches me:

- Mam, can I help you?

- Everything's fine, thank you.

The voice of the captain comes out of the cockpit:

- Could you please walk Madam to her seat, she's been disturbing us.

- What…!? – I say offended –

- Madam, please go back to your seat.

- I am an Air officer. I have rights on this plane, as well as duties.

- There is no Air police agent on this aircraft! – throws the captain – Please go back to your seat and stay quiet.

- What? It can't be, there must be a mistake somewhere…

The stewardess insists:

- You are the lady siting in seat 3A, right? I'm afraid I must accompany you…

I obey in silence. Once at my seat, I call out to the hostess:

- You must have flown this route dozens of times. You know the aircraft is not supposed to take a turn and gain altitude on his itinerary.

- Mam, let me assure you that our captain is a very experienced pilot. If he finds a better route, he will take it, you don't have to worry.

- With all respect, do not play the fool with me. You know that coordinates are settled beforehand in a computer… there is no “changing route” without a serious reason.

- And our captain can be trusted to take the proper decision, should this reason occur.

I let her go. If I am not on the lists, there are only two possibilities… either someone knew and intentionally removed my privilege, or the captain is lying or forced to… I must hurry.

I reach another hostess and asks her to give me the list of passengers. After seeing my badge, she leads me to the front of the plane, where we come across the other stewardess:

- Madam, please, we told you to remain at your seat!

- There are two people missing on your plane, didn't you check passports? Two people on this aircraft have stolen passports.

- What…?

The hostess exchanged a worried stare. I resume:

- Do you understand why I need to have access to the list of passengers now? It is a measure for your safety.

- Well... alright.

One of them takes the list out hands it to me. I find my name, which also display my official status.

- There, you see? I am an official agent mandated for the safety of this aircraft. I demand to see the captain immediately.

Surprised, the stewardess knocks at the cockpit's door:

- Captain, we have checked and Miss Li Si is indeed from an official authority… she requires your assistance.

There is another silence before the captain accepts:

- Fine, let her in.

I enter the cockpit while saluting the stewardesses, but as I close the door, I see their worried stare look away. I turn around, someone's there and tries to tackle me. I fight back, but the space is confined. The opponent gets the upper hand and pins me to the ground. The two pilots are there watching, frightened. But WHO is holding me down!?

He is speaking Chinese:

- I thought the Chinese would send someone to protect the package but I didn't expect you to react so fast.

- Who are you!? What do you think you're doing!?

I try to free myself but his hold is perfect. He is very skilled. The pilots stay silent in their seats.

- What the hell is going on here!? Are you involved in this captain!?

- Calm down – says my attacker – Everything is under control. You don't need to worry.

- Shut up! There are more than 200 people on this plane!! Like hell I'll calm down!

- I assure you no one is going to get hurt. We will land safely in an American base off the coast of India.

- An American base…?

He ties me to a bar with handcuffs. I try to remain calm:

- Are you CIA…?

- Be nice and I may let you go.

- Whoever you are, you are in serious violation of international laws, subject to death penalty back in the country. And you, pilots, why aren't you doing anything!?

There is a silence. Then the man tells the pilot:

- You can tell her.

He then replies, troubled:

- We… we have received orders from the Malaysian authorities… there was not much we could do…

- They are HIJACKING YOU PLANE DAMMIT! What about your code of honor!?

- Hey there – says the terrorist – keep cool, they didn't have a choice. The Malaysian government's hands are tied, they don't have any other option than to bow to our demands…

- You changed the flight plan… why?

- Our intelligence services warned us that this plane carried a crucial information for Chinese authorities… we were bound to look into it. Now, if you're here, I suppose you're protecting this information?

- I am here as mandated Air agent, I'm just doing my job. I don't have anything to do with this…

- Fair enough… then you've taken the wrong plane.

- Ha ha… fucker.

He turns around and looks at a computer connected to the console. On the instant he drops his guard I grab his neck with my legs and slams him to the ground in a hold. Trapped between my thigh, he struggles to breathe and can barely fight back. The co-pilot tries to get into the fight, I knock him out with one kick and restrain the man on the ground:

- The key for the handcuffs. Now. Or your neck is done for.

- *Cough* *cough* you are full of resources.

I tighten my grip:

- Aouw, aouw, okay! Okay! They're here in my pocket.

- Captain, take the keys and release me.

He obeys and frees me. I tie my aggressor, and takes away his gun he was carrying in his pants:

- Now you will stay still.

I turn back to the pilots:

- This plane is going to Beijing. Change direction right now.

- But hum… we can't.

- Why not?

- The American has control of everything with his computer. All commands are blocked. We can't do anything…

- Then get this damn PC to work, there must be some way!

I look at the computer, it's all written in unintelligible code. I turn to the American who waves at me in a sign of taunt.

- How did you get access to such a program?

- We are in a Boeing… made in America my dear.

- Tch… fascists.

- You won't get anywhere without my help. You can try whatever you like, but before you can find anything, we would have landed and got off the plane…

I untie him in rage and push him to his machine.

- Come on now, be nice and do as I say. I can break you whenever I want.

I suddenly notice something. A detail. On one of the pilots' vest, on the hanger.

- Ha, you can't break me… nothing will prevent this plane from getting where it should.

I stand, focused on something else:


I examine the vest. While focusing on the cloth, I act natural:

- You have thirty seconds to decide. Patience is not one of my assets, I will rapidly resort to violence. And do not underestimate Chinese torture.

He sneers:

- Ha… you're going to need to be more persuasive…

I turn to him:

- Is this yours? – I say while pointing the vest –

- No…? – He says surprised –

- Is this vest yours? – I ask the captain –

- Yes, it's mine…

- It is a nice uniform… it reminds me of someone I know. It is a rare piece, you should keep it after your service.

- Ah, hum…

I join the American:

- Well, are you ready to cooperate now?

- You're wasting your time…

I whisper in his ear swiftly:

- There is a mic on this vest.

Out loud:

- Why does it always need to come to this with you…?


- Is it yours?

He plays my game and answers out loud:

- How about you go fuck yourself?

Then he says low:

- No.

I stand:

- Right… I'll go fuck myself…

I get close to the hanger and start hitting the walls:


I throw the vest on the ground and step on the mic, making sure it's dead. In my “breakdown”, I'm looking for other spies… it was apparently the only one. I stand again:

- The mic wasn't mine either… there is a third actor in this hijacking.

- A mic!? – says the captain –

- Try to remember. Did you leave your vest somewhere, or come in contact with someone who could have slipped a spy in your vest?

- N-no, I… I don't remember…

- When did you put it on?

- I have to bear the uniform to get on the plane… I think it was about ten minutes before entering the aircraft and…

- Did someone make contact with you?

- Ah! There was this man in a hurry who bumped into me!

- … ! Did you see his face?

- Very briefly… I don't know…

I take out my phone and show him the photos of all passengers one by one… then after a moment, one emerges.

- Him! That's him, I'm sure!

I leave a silence and turn to the American:

- Can I ask your help to arrest him? He may not be alone.

- What? Now you trust me?

- I know your intentions, more or less… the fact that you set our plane to land somewhere else, I can tolerate, but if another terrorist has other plans, it is my duty to stop him. As soon as possible.

- Oh, what a sense of duty…

- As far as the two of us are concerned, you'd rather help me… if like me, you want whatever this plane is carrying, you know it will be useless if it gets blown.

- … Lead the way.

We get out and walk through the alley to reach the suspect. He seems to be asleep. I call out to him:

- Sir.

He wakes up and responds in a sleepy way:

- What…? What is it?

- Li Si, from Air Police. I need to ask you a few questions. Do you mind if we look at your baggage?

- My suitcases are in the hold, I don't have any carry-on luggage.

- Ah I see… we will need to process a body check though. It's protocol. Please come with us.

He stands and follows us without complaining, we take him to the front of the plane. I make the hostesses leave in a glare then start searching while talking casually:

- Why are you going to Beijing?

- For tourism. See friends. Just entertaining.

- I see… are you friends waiting for you at the airport?

- No, I have to get in touch with them later in the day.

- What are bringing in your luggage?

- Clothes mostly, nothing out of the ordinary…

- Do you usually travel without a hand-luggage? You are provident.

- For a short flight like this, it's okay, I'm used to more than 6 hours…

- Oh, so you're a frequent traveler…

I end my search, let him go then call out to him:

- Ah wait!

He turns around and I block him to pin him on the ground:

- AH! WHAT ARE YOU, CRAZY!? – he shouts –

- No carry-on luggage huh? I saw you enter the plane with a small green wheeled suitcase earlier. I advise you not to mess with me!

- You've got the wrong person!

I tighten my hold:

- Answer or I'll break your arm.

- Aouch! Aouch! Okay! The green suitcase, in compartment 37, left alley!

- Well, you put your luggage, that doesn't exist, somewhere else than above your seat…

I let the American go fetch the object. In the meantime, I stand with the man:

- Within these conditions, I have to arrest you for the rest of the investigation.

- Investigation?

- Shut up.

He starts to shout:


I restrain him and dislocate his arm. I contain his shout.

- I warned you, fucking bastard.

But the harm has been done. People heard him and are starting to wake up. Tension is rising. A stewardess comes to me, worried:

- What is going on?

- Nothing to worry about Mam, everything is under control. You can resume your work normally.

I hear the mumbling in the passengers, the American comes back with the suitcase:

- This should be it.

- Let's see what's in it…

The suitcase seems to be locked with an 8 digit code. I remark:

- Quite the security… mind to tell us the code?

- It's very personal stuff in there, I…

- No problem, we just need to break the lock… - says the American –

The man takes me by surprise and hits me with the back of his head. He frees himself from my hold and steals the gun I had on my waist to shot the American, who barely avoids a lethal wound. The bullet pierces his left side. The man turns around and takes aim at me:

- You couldn't help but stick your nose into this huh!?

Panic is gaining the passengers after hearing the shot. The man is laughing at me:

- Now, get a move on. I control the plane now! You will gently let it land at the Americans'. If you try anything funny…

I fake an attack, he pulls the trigger. Click.

- Wh…!?

I subdue him and smash his head to the wall.

- I had taken out the charger, you fucker. Now I decide of your life, so you better stay quiet!

A hostess joins us:

- Are you alright!?

She sees the American on the ground.

- Everything is okay, alright!? He needs immediate medical assistance, take care of him. I'll talk to the passengers.

I handcuff the man and pass through the alleys with him.

- Ladies, Gentlemen, please remain calm. I am Li Si, from the Air Police. My job is to insure your safety on this flight. While I am on board you have nothing to worry about.

My prisoner shouts again:


I break his other arm:

- Would you shut the fuck up!?

The passengers stare at each other terrified, with accusing eyes. I resume:

- This dangerous individual has been arrested. We still ignore if there is a bomb on the aircraft. We need everyone's cooperation to look for it, we will search faster this way. All people who have made direct contact with this man come to me. I'm counting on each and every one of you to search scrupulously your luggage and your neighbor's.

I lap around the cabin while repeating mechanically these phrases. In a burst of panic, everyone starts looking for the bomb. Some start fighting, accusing each other. I see the young in the plane frightened, lost in the mass. People are there to handle the brawls. They are fighting, yes, but for the right cause. I know they will do what must be done. In this kind of situation, people don't take it as a joke. We are all in the same plane.

My hostage sneers:

- Ha! You will find nothing, you're wasting your time.

- The search will tell us that, not you.

Suddenly, the aircraft dives, shaking the cabin. I'm holding to a seat for the few seconds of the phenomenon. People are crying. I rush with my prisoner to the cockpit while trying to tranquilize them:

- Remain calm! Remain calm! These are safety manoeuvres! Keep searching!

Once at the front, I see the American getting out of the cockpit.

- What's going on!? – I say –

- I wanted to check on our route on the computer, and made a mistake with my injury…

- Ah… you should have it treated immediately.

- Oh, how caring… don't worry, I'll be good and get patched up.

A stewardess is already here with medical supplies. She begins first aid. I attach the prisoner scrupulously. Then I take interest in the suitcase:

- So, will you give me the code or should I force the lock?

He stays silent. Passengers come to me:

- Excuse me… is there anything we can do to help…?

- Thank you. The best thing to do is to put your efforts in the search for a potential bomb. Do not suspect among yourselves. Stay calm and try to reassure the others. Everything's going to be fine, don't worry.

- Okay then… thanks… good luck…

Those people's intervention always touch me… I pierce the terrorist with ferocious eyes:

- Because of you, those innocent people are going through hell right now. You will tell your code or I'll really get angry. I'll mess you up.

- Tss… 86249713.

I enter the code and open the suitcase carefully. There is a computer in it, which seems to be locked by digital recognition. I dig in:

- May I?

The prisoner's index unlocks the device but the interface is in a language I don't know…

- Hum…

- It's Farsi – affirms the American –

The hostess reacts:

- Oh my god! It's Al-Qaeda…!

- No, not necessarily. – I reply – Language can be used as cover to hide his true origins.

I turn to the American:

- Do you understand it?

- Unfortunately no, I can recognize it but…

- Then we'll need help…

I stand and walk around the aircraft:

- Is there anyone who speaks Farsi here? Someone who speaks Persian among the passengers?

I repeat while going around the aircraft, but no one answers. People are panicking and react violently:


- NO! – I stop – AS LONG AS I'M ON THIS PLANE, NO ONE IS GONNA DIE! YOU GOT THAT!? We found a computer that is coded in Farsi, but it is probably a cover! It's just a LANGUAGE! So, is there anyone who can help us!?

People are scared. I sense it in their faces. They're vacant. Terrified. But there is nothing I can do to prevent this. I ask them to focus on the search as I return to the American:

- It seems that no one can help us…

- What about this guy, he must know what's in there…

- It's pointless, he has no reason to answer us… at least for now. But a bit of private time with me might change his mind…

Understanding my point, he steps in:

- Do you want me to do it?

- Leave it to me… we, Chinese, have known to demand information far before you even existed…

I untie my prisoner to take him with me to the toilet and “have a chat”.




In the middle of my interrogation, the American comes knocking on the door.

- Hey, I have two people who want to see. They say the speak Farsi.

- Ah? I'm coming.

I get out of the toilet, letting him oversee my methods staining my clothes. Two men are waiting, devastated. I approach them:

- You say you speak Farsi? Is that right?

- Y-yes… we're fluent…

- Why didn't you say so earlier?

- That's… I don't know, because of the panic…

- You're the ones traveling with stolen passports, aren't you?

They stay silent, chocked by my remark. I reassure them:

- This is of no importance right now. We have other problems. We need all available assistance. Where are you from?

- We're Iranians…

- Ah, nice – says the American – then it's your native tongue…

They nod in agreement. I show them the computer and they translate on the fly:

- It seems the owner was supposed to look after something on this plane, but there is little information… I think it's on purpose. There apparently is something on this plane… that was hidden during the aircraft's revision 10 days ago.

- Ah, yes that's right… I saw that in the files…

- The document also says that the plane must take its load to the US or China, whatever means necessary… and that the information is “in the plane itself”.

- What does it mean?

- I don't know… there is nothing else.

- In any case, it deals with information, that is supposed to get to the US or China – concludes the American – We can reasonably rule out the possibility of a bomb on the aircraft… but then why would they go so far? What sort of information is this about?

- Can you look into it? – I ask them –

- Yes, of course.

I join with my prisoner who recovers from his wounds. I made so that he could not kill himself. He is breathing loudly.

- No luck for you, there were two Iranians on the plane and they're unraveling your little game. You'd better tell me directly what I want to know. Rest assured that you won't die from your wounds…

- Go… fuck… yourself…

- I'm getting sick of your attitude.

I make him understand that he won't win this game, and ask my question:

- What sort of information is the aircraft carrying? Talk!

He remains silent. Outraged, I break the bathroom's mirror with his head.

- You're going to talk now or I'm done with you!!

He persists in saying nothing. I may have no other choice… then I notice something… behind the mirror I just broke. It's some sort of… document? I manage to take it out, but… what the…

I rush out and call out to the American.

- Look at this!

- Huh? Where did you get this?

- Behind the mirror in the bathroom. Look.

- It's… bank accounts?

- I know a few of them… these belong to China, and those are from the UN…

- Wait, there are ones from the CIA, and the American Treasury… what are those transactions…?

- There were a load of papers like these in the bathroom, hidden behind the glass.

As we read through the documents… we lose hope. The reading gives us evidences. Terrible information. Indisputable.

- Excuse me – one the Iranians calls out to us – we may have found something.

- I don't know how far this should be trusted – says the other – but the person here says the information in this plane will trigger a war…

I exchange a stare with the American. The documents of bank accounts I found… there are others like those…?

I return to my prisoner and show him the documents:

- Hey! Did you hide this!? Is that the information you're supposed to transmit!?

He grins, pain has probably driven him mad:

- He he he, you're so funny struggling around like that… the moment this plane left the ground, it was already too late… the truth will be revealed, and you pathetic pawns can't do a thing about it…

- What truth!?

- That everything's fake! Everything's just a big rip off! The united nations have been running horrors for decades! Without anyone noticing!

- The UN? Horrors?

- But that's not all! All the governments in the world…! It's nothing but skulduggery! Arrangements! And everything is on this plane. All the evidences. In anyone's hands, the UN won't survive! And finally the utopia will come to an end! Ha ha ha! There is nothing you can do to stop it! The proofs are everywhere on the plane! You can NEVER destroy them all! Do you get it!? NEVER!!

I get out of the bathroom and leave him in his madness. He doesn't have much time left anyway. I join the American with a serious expression:

- Did you hear…?

- Most of it, yes…

- What the… what do we do?

- We need to search for the documents and confirm his sayings. There is no other solution. I will delay our arrival to the American base.

- Alright… I will inform the passengers.

I get into the alleys and begin:

- Ladies and Gentlemen, I can now assure you that there is no bomb on the aircraft.

They all breathe in relief as I continue:

- However, we are now searching for official documents, photos, bank statements, that could have been hidden on this aircraft. We are obliged to deviate from our course so that we can find them before landing. I know this is very inconvenient for all of you but we need your help to solve this crisis. The documents can be anywhere. In the seats' lining, luggage compartments, under the carpet… make sure you have the confirmation for the cabin crew before beginning your search. We deeply thank you for your cooperation.

They all start searching. More and more documents are found… horrible evidences of financial manipulation, arm dealing, drugs and even human traffic… there are proofs for every atrocity the world can imagine… and everything was kept under control. Organized. In the shadows.

These documents, should they be discovered by any country, would create scandals at a planetary scale. If the UN's dissolution would be the obvious outcome, the consequential conflicts could easily lead to an all-out war. Plunging yet again the world into an era of darkness…

The documents are everywhere… apparently even stuck into the plane's structure… we will never be able to destroy everything.  

I return to the cockpit in silence, where I find the American lying on the ground.

- What the…?

The captain comes to me with a paper:

- I'm sorry… we couldn't do anything… he fell down in a second.

- What…? Just… what!?

A cyanide capsule of the CIA. Judging by the body, it is a clear conclusion. But why!? He was the only one who could control the plane! He…!

I stop… and read his last words.


« I did what I had to do. You know why. Now it's your turn to do your duty.

John »


Tears come up. That bastard… I never knew his name, and he signs with a generic…

- We are heading towards the South of the Indian Ocean – begins the pilot – to a desert zone. What does he expect to find there? Our fuel is limited…

I lean against the wall in silence… then smile in acceptance:

- He doesn't want to find anything. There is nothing to be found… come with me.

The two men follow me, intrigued. We walk through first class, where I invite people to come with us. I tell the passengers to stop searching. We have found what we were looking for. I let them sit and wait for the silence. With heavy words, I begin:

- Ladies… Gentlemen… as you may feel, I have a difficult thing to say… Surely there is no bomb on the plane… but the plane itself is the bomb. A terrible weapon that, if launched upon the world, would create unimaginable ravages.

Their faces still look disturbed. I continue:

- The documents you have found… the photos, articles, transcriptions… are all indisputable proofs that would certainly sign the end of the United Nations, and the rapid fall to hell of our motherlands. We are all victims, we who are in this bomb… Everything has been playing despite ourselves, and we are now trapped into the ineffable spiral of human conflicts. But today, there is still one thing we can do. Something that we are the only ones capable of. Therefore… so that no one ever finds those evidences… we have decided to sink this plane.

A vivid uproar occurs, I try to speak louder than the crowd:

- We still have 5 hours of fuel before falling to the ocean. We will disappear without leaving a trace. No one will come to save us. No one will ever find us. It must be…

A man grabs me:


- Communications have been cut off since takeoff. The plane has been diverted since it left Kuala Lumpur. Unfortunately, the only man capable of controlling this plane has chosen death. He CHOSE what is happening!


People are hitting me, jostle, panic… it's anarchy. I fall to the ground, and wonder what we've done to bear such a responsibility…

Then, after a few minutes… just as if we were taken by a collective conscience… calm is gaining us. People stop fighting. Minds are clearing. We need… to accept. Silence is here… nobody speaks. Eyes are colourless… lifeless. I stand, and manage to muster a few words:

- I am a Chinese secret agent. My name is Li Si, I'm 36. I was born in Beijing, where I grew up. I've lived and seen many things. Wonderful things that inspired me. Carried me. I've had fantastic experiences, met people, made discoveries… I think I had a good life. What about you? Who are you?

Each begins to tell his story. Innocent words, engulfed in nostalgia. Tears, that carry their whole existence. Stories pass from person to person. From complete stranger to complete stranger. All those lives that are meant to disappear are now speaking in their last breath.



The engines have stopped a few minutes ago. The aircraft dives slowly, in an unstoppable fall. Nobody is speaking. Everyone is watching the horizon come closer in silence. People are hugging each other. Children are there too… innocent victims.

If I could do one last thing for those people… what would I do? What could I give them?

This may not be much… but here is what I want to be, say out loud, at the very end of my existence:

- I am Li Si, of flight MH370. On this plane, I fought for what I believed to be right. So that the world could have a chance. Today, I may disappear, but tomorrow… will be saved because of me. I am not a victim. I made this choice. I am a hero. Like all of us.




Then a first one stood, and repeated:


« I am a hero »


Then another one.


« I am a hero »


And more.





« I am a hero »





As we were all standing, we were exchanging stares. Tears of courage. Smiles of farewell. As our plane was gliding in his fall, and diving to the end of the journey, I could see on those faces the dignity, and all the beauty that make Mankind.

In our darkest moments, we all find common values. We all turn to what truly makes us Humans.




Will to protect.

Sense of sacrifice.


If you could hear us, you, across the world, know that peace is the greatest accomplishment you can achieve. We learn from our mistakes to prevent future sorrows, but that doesn't forbid us to create new ones… We are a lesson. A reason that will change the world towards a brighter future… as imperceptible as it may be.

We were here. And we will always be. Our memory will live on through people who will tell our story. Rewrite our facts. And we will always be there.

Immortal in writing. Eternal in History.

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