Wonsan Military Cemetery, Korean Union, 2055

An ageing Japanese man, with white, tuffy hair, followed a well-marked stone pathway. High, well-pruned grass, green in color, helped him further to find his own way that leads into what looked like a multi-storey building. 

A few seconds before, his eyes on the big Japanese flag fluttering straight in front of the building.

Upon entering, suddenly, his step froze as if hitting an invisible solid wall. His breathing quickens as his legs fold up beneath him and he found himself on his knees, eyes riveted like a wind has been punched out of his lungs.

"Are you okay?" an old woman who's on his side since the beginning of the memory trip put her hands on his back and shoulder, likely to tell that I won't ever leave you alone.

His sights were on a glowing landscape of LED Buddha statues - with occassional crosses and fewer crescents and stars, of variant hues. So cavernous, that it spans his peripheral vision floor by floor.

For him, it looks like the entire world had died and buried here.

A father - perhaps grandfather already - nothing very memorable about his face, except those eyes.

Eyes that have seen too much.

And perhaps for the first time in years, are suddenly seeing it all again. In a quiet slumber, all he see were the statues slowly morphed into a line of metal obstacles, while his ears can hear the tide of water once more... twenty, no, almost thirty years ago.