A small boy sits alone, a screen before him, a kingdom in his hands. Blocks rise, fall, rebuild and somewhere in that quiet rhythm, you can hear the sound of innocence fading. He builds worlds, not knowing they are reflections of his own soul. He destroys them, not realizing he’s learning how to lose. The glow of the screen softens his face and yet, it also steals the sunlight meant for his eyes. Once, imagination was a pulse that made him infinite. Now, it’s a loop that keeps him safe from feeling too much. You can almost see time watching him, patient, merciless waiting for the day he forgets how to dream without pixels or plastic. Echoes: When did we stop building to discover ourselves… and start building to forget who we are?