Dominic carefully ran his fingers over the spine of an old leather-bound book, the gold lettering almost worn off from years of handling. He was alone in the dimly lit antique shop, surrounded by the quiet hum of history—objects and books from bygone eras that whispered stories of the past. He had always felt at home among old things, things that had seen the world, understood it in ways that were no longer accessible to the present.

The shopkeeper approached cautiously, as if sensing the weight of the moment. Dominic’s voice broke the silence, smooth and deliberate, as he turned the page of a rare philosophy book.

“Justice, as a concept, is something fluid, ever-changing. The history of law is not one of morality, but of power. The winners write the history, and the losers… well, they become cautionary tales.”

“I didn’t know you liked philosophy,” the shopkeeper remarked

Dominic looked up, his expression unreadable. He closed the book and set it down with deliberate care.

“I don’t. But it’s important to understand how people think they should be governed.”