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I was watching as a male archaeologist carefully dug up a set of eight ancient Chinese bronze masks. Each mask was rectangular, intricately designed, and carried a sense of deep history.

As I observed, I got the sinking feeling that he wasn’t just excavating—he was stealing them. There was a wave of anger, but it wasn’t my own. I could feel the fury of the ancestors whose resting places were being disturbed. It was like their spirits were surging around me, making their outrage known.

I knew they weren’t my ancestors, but their voices reached out to me, almost like a plea. They wanted me to do something—to stop this. I could feel their message burning inside me, demanding justice.

Dream Interpreter Answered question 2 days ago