Scene 1
The Celestial Holding Room
Setting: A vast, glowing antechamber suspended in space. The walls are composed of shimmering texts—floating books, scrolls, and manuscripts from all ages. Two figures, Freud and Eliade, find themselves sitting on separate luminous benches, bound by golden ethereal threads. Two ANGELS, tall and serene, stand guard, their faces unreadable but kind.
(Eliade stirs, noticing the room's strange beauty. He looks around, then spots Freud. Freud, visibly perturbed, adjusts his glasses and takes in his surroundings.)
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Eliade: (Politely) Forgive me, sir, but you seem familiar. Are you Sigmund Freud?
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Freud: (Adjusting his glasses) I am. And you are...?
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Eliade: (Standing despite the threads) Mircea Eliade, historian of religions.
Your name echoes through the halls of scholarship.
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Freud: (Looking intrigued) Eliade… I’ve heard of your work on the sacred. Religion fascinates you; I suppose.
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Eliade: (With a faint smile) Your theories on the mind fascinate me. I study the sacred as a reality that transcends time; you’ve approached it as projection and desire.
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Freud: (With a slight smirk) And I suspect you find my lens too reductive.
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Eliade: Not without merit, but there is more to the sacred than the subconscious.
(The ANGELS step forward, their presence commanding.)
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Angel 1: You are summoned to defend your understanding of rituals and the sacred.
Prepare yourselves.
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Freud: (Alarmed) Defend? To whom?
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Angel 2: (Lightly) That will soon be revealed.
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Eliade: (Curious) A trial for our life’s work? Intriguing.
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Angel: (Looking upward) Prepare your arguments. The presiding force will arrive in due time.
(The angels retreat, leaving Freud and Eliade in silence.)
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Eliade: (Thoughtfully) It’s remarkable—us, here, in a place that defies understanding.
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Freud: (Looking around uneasily) I theorized God as a construct—a tool for fear and desire.But this… this feels unsettling.
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Eliade: (With calm conviction) Not a construct, Freud. This is the sacred itself. I’ve spent my life tracing its echoes—this is the source.
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Freud: (Skeptical) If such a source exists, I never thought I’d confront it. God as a concept, yes. But as something… real? That, I doubted.
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Eliade: (Smiling faintly) Confrontation with the sacred transforms even the most resistant soul. Perhaps you’ll see the divine not as projection but as reality.
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Freud: (Pausing, doubt flickering) Reality or illusion—does it matter if the impact is the same?
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Eliade: (Leaning in, almost whispering) It matters. The sacred isn’t about impact—it’s about truth beyond us.
(They exchange a look—Freud’s skepticism laced with curiosity, Eliade’s certainty tempered by mystery—as the scene fades out, leaving the audience to wonder what lies ahead.)
