Harvey Dean, a former hacker from Samara

After a long silence that seemed to weigh heavily on him, a thought suddenly occurred to Jerome. It was a thought so simple and yet so astonishing that he literally shuddered, as if someone had suddenly shone a light into the darkness of his mind. He had never seen anything in this world except what was right under his nose. All he knew was limited to his own interests, his personal concerns, and his petty, almost always superficial problems.

He looked at Delia, sitting next to him, and felt a strange emptiness inside. She was here, so close, but he couldn't feel her, couldn't understand her true meaning. Why? Because his world was too narrow, his vision too limited. He was thinking about himself, his goals, his place in this strange and unfair world. And maybe that was the biggest problem.

"What if I could look at myself from the outside?" This thought haunted him.

He imagined himself, what he would look like if someone else saw him through his eyes. What expression he had on his face, what he thought, how he acted. He realized that he would most likely be nothing more than a pathetic worm, a small, insignificant creature who did nothing but pursue his own selfish goals, without thinking about anything more.

The thought made him feel unbearably sick. The worm... He saw himself as this small, dirty, mindless creature, burrowing in his own little world, never lifting his head to see the sky. And maybe that was his problem - he couldn't find meaning beyond what was around him.

"What if I was always like this?" The thought was too heavy, too scary.

It was unbearably scary for him to think about it. After all, if everything he did had only his personal interest at its core, what was left of his true duty, of his responsibility to his homeland, to the people, to those he was supposed to protect? Where was his highest ideal if he had been building his world around his own ego all this time? He couldn't answer these questions because he didn't know the answer.

Delia, noticing that his gaze had become somewhat empty, tilted her head slightly, her eyes filling with a soft, almost caring interest.

"Jerome?" Her voice was quiet, but there was a strange note of concern in it. "You don't look right."

He looked away quickly, not wanting to show her his vulnerability. It was too embarrassing, too revealing. But she noticed anyway. As she always did.

"It's all right," he muttered, trying to hide his inner torment. But his voice sounded uncertain, and he himself realized that it was not convincing. How can you hide from another person something that you yourself cannot admit even to yourself?

Delia was silent, but her gaze never left his. She clearly felt something, maybe even understood more than he did. Jerome sighed, trying to focus on something external again, something that would help distract him from these heavy thoughts. But it was impossible. They were stuck in his head, like shackles from which there was no escape.

"You know," she went on finally, "we all feel lost sometimes. We think we're too small to make a difference. But really... sometimes you just have to step forward despite that fear. And maybe you can find meaning if you start looking at things a little differently.

Her words seemed to penetrate Jerome's very heart. He looked at her for a long moment, trying to process her meaning. Maybe she was right. Maybe things weren't as bad as he thought. Maybe he should just step up and stop being afraid of what he couldn't understand. Because it was fear and uncertainty that were limiting him. It was they that created the small world he lived in, an obstacle and a prison for himself.

But in that moment, in the quiet, calm atmosphere surrounding them, he suddenly felt that maybe he could start differently. And he didn't have to be someone great, he didn't have to be a hero to find his way. All it took was the recognition that not everything in life had to be predictable and controllable. Not everything had to be perfect.

"Do you think I can do it?" Jerome asked, a little softer than before. His voice was now more open than ever before.

Delia nodded, her eyes full of genuine understanding.

"Yes, I think you can. Because all you have to do is start looking at things differently. Not as a problem, but as an opportunity. You can do it, Jerome."

And suddenly, something changed in his soul. It was not an instantaneous revelation, but rather an elusive whisper of inner change, which, however, awakened in him a feeling he had not felt for a long time. It was like a slight shock that slowly dissipated, but left something important in itself. The world turned out to be much wider than Jerome could have imagined. He had always lived within the framework of his own fears and doubts. All he knew was his small universe with its narrow streets and predictable paths. But now... now this world suddenly became larger.

"You... Do you really think so?" Jerome asked, his voice hesitant, as if he didn't believe his own words.

Delia looked at him as if her gaze was penetrating into Jerome's very soul. She understood that these were not just words, but real feelings that were rising from the depths of his consciousness.

"Yes, I think you can. You've already taken the first step, even if you haven't noticed it," she answered quietly, with a warmth that seemed incredible at that moment. "It all starts with admitting that something is wrong. And you did that."

Jerome thought, his gaze sharpening, as if he were trying to see something that had been hidden for a long time. He had always thought that the world was just a series of events that you had to experience. Nothing more. But now, for all his inner doubts, he felt that something had changed in him. There was no perfect answer, no exact path. There was only a sense that in this vast world there was room to search.

He paused, looking at Delia, and suddenly felt grateful for her presence. It was strange, but not unpleasant. She wasn't trying to fix him, wasn't trying to tell him what to do. She was simply there, letting him know that his struggle wasn't abnormal, but part of what made him human.