he man standing in front of Eustakyo was no longer the boy who had once eagerly accompanied his father on excursions to the Białowieża Forest, marveling at beetles and dreaming of expeditions across the ocean.
Franz was now the last person still supporting Eustakyo. First, his wife had left him. Then, his intellectual peers and colleagues distanced themselves. Eventually, the entire world seemed to place Eustakyo on one side—and then promptly forgot him.
Eustakyo's persistence in his seemingly absurd cause was unwavering. He continued to explain, though no one cared to listen. It seemed as though the man would remain undeterred, possibly even die, consumed by his quixotic crusade.
Now, Eustakyo returned to the idea of publishing his book.
"I want to publish this," he said, handing a handwritten manuscript to his son. "In this book, I explain everything—all my thoughts for the next generations."
Franz inhaled deeply, overwhelmed with anguish. He didn't know what to do. His father needed to confront reality.
"You know what people say about you?" Franz asked, his face hard, his voice sharp.
The old man stopped for a moment.
"I suppose... they think I'm an anarchist," Eustakyo replied, a faint, knowing smile on his face. The pause was brief; he began pacing again, his mind still racing with ideas.
"The problem is this: people only understand things within their existing mental framework. That's the issue. I need to change the frame first—only then will they see the content. It's a long-term task," he explained, his tone alternating between the lofty and the resigned.
Then he stopped pacing and looked at his son. "I know... I know they think I'm a madman. To most people, I'm just a crazy old fool. They only care about food on their tables, clothes on their backs, and charcoal for their kitchens."
"Why?" Franz asked, almost pleading. "Why take on this cause? Why throw away all your prestige? Why sacrifice so much? I'm your son, the only person still by your side. I deserve to know why this is so important to you."
Eustakyo stopped and took a deep breath. He looked at Franz with a mixture of intensity and calm that his son couldn't quite interpret.
"The truth is this," Eustakyo said, his voice low but firm.
"I am the chosen one."
