Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
you have. He will claim to be Abraham Lincoln." "No!" "Yes, and he will pretend to find you accidentally and get you to help him find a way back to his own world, glorying in making a fool of you. Coleman came in the morning before I was really ready to face the But you can use every moment to learn his every weakness." "Yes, of course," Paulson muttered. "But he couldn't hoax me. My keen powers of deduction would have seen through him in an instant!" longer hopeless in his quest to gain another reality because he knew he was not merely insane now. wanted to believe them. The stories gave them what they were after—without me having to break the law and put them to sleep for crimes they hadn't committed. They would find out some day that I had lied to them, but maybe by that time they would have realized this world wasn't so bad. Fortunately, I was confident from their psych records that they were "Tell me," Coleman said, crossing his legs, "what do you think of door, "when are you going to let me throw that stiff Coleman into the Dreamland in principle?" "Why, it's the logical step forward in penal servitude. Man has been heading toward this since he first started civilizing himself. After I waited for Coleman's reaction. He merely nodded. I stretched out my wet palm toward the door. Was or was not Coleman telling the truth when he said this life of mine was itself only a Dream? If it was, did I want to finish my last day purpose of confinement is confinement." with the right decision so I could return to some alien reality? Or did I deliberately want to make a mistake so I could continue living the opiate of my Dream? Councilman Coleman didn't look as if he had moved since I had left him. "I should think so," Coleman said emphatically. "Warden, don't you "Coleman," I said, "you can get out of here. As warden, I'm granting actually living these vicarious adventures?" That was a question that made all of us in the Dreamland service unless—" Coleman lifted a dark eyebrow above a black iris. "Unless?" I cleared my throat. "Unless they go mad and really believe the dream this phony Dream? Now you are talking as if this world was the "How do prisoners like that adjust to reality?" Was he deliberately trying to ask tough questions? "They don't. They think they are having some kind of delusion. Many of them become schizoid and pretend to go along with reality while secretly 'knowing' it to be a lie." they are living. But as you know, sir, the rate of madness among Dreamland." Coleman sat back down suddenly. "You don't want life as a Sleeper, do you?" I pursued. "You did want He was telling me , the superintendent of Dreamland, that my own life here was only a Dream such as I fed to my own prisoners. It was unbelievably absurd, a queasy little joke of some kind. But I didn't were true, if I had forgotten that everything that happened was only a Dream, and if I admitted it, the councilman would know I was mad. It couldn't be true. "How did you decide to do this?" he asked. "Don't tell me you never doubted. We've all doubted since we found out about the machines: which was real and which was the Dream? How did you decide to risk this?" "I acted the only way I could act," I said. "I decided I had to act as if my life was real and that you were lying. I decided that because, if all this were false, if I could have no more confidence in my own mind a ground car down a spidery road made into a dismal tunnel by weeping trees, a dank, lavender maze. I had known at the time it was a Dream, "I've always thought," I said, "that it would be a good idea to show a prisoner what the modern penal system was all about by giving him a Dream in which he dreamed about Dreamland itself." "Yes, indeed," Coleman concurred. Just that and no more. I leaned intimately across my beautiful oak desk. "I've thought that projecting officials into the Dream and letting them talk with the prisoners might be a more effective form of investigation than mere observation." him to change his concept of humor. The day was starting. If I got through it, giving a good show, I would be released from my Dream, he had said smugly. reality running around loose." He paused, puzzled. "Hell, I don't know why I can't express myself like I used to." He could express himself much better in his Dream. He had been Abraham only knew that if in his delirium he could gain Dreamland once more, he could get back to the hard realities of dealing with the problems of Reconstruction. I was only a figment of his unfocused imagination, but he was playing the game with uncompromising logic, trusting that even madness had hard and tight rules behind it. This had to be some kind of test. But a test for what? Had I been deliberately told that I was living only a Dream to see if my ethics would hold up even when I thought I wasn't dealing with reality? was only a Dream, was it a test to see if I was morally ready to return to the real, the earnest world? But if it was a test to see if I was ready for reality, did I want to I had banked on that, hadn't I, when I made my move? Or did I? Wasn't it perhaps a matter of knowing that all of it wasn't real and that the safety cutoffs in even a free-choice model of a Dream Machine couldn't let me come to any real harm? I had been suspiciously brave, disarming a dedicated maniac. With only an hour to spare for gym a day, On the other hand, maybe I actually wanted something to go wrong so my sleep sentence would be extended. Or was it that, in some sane part of my mind, I wanted release from unreality badly enough to take any risk to prove that I was morally capable of returning to the real world? "Naw, he ain't violent, Warden. He just thinks he's somebody important." Coleman entered wearing the same black tunic, the same superior Coleman had first received a suspended sentence, then two terminal first a few weeks, then a few months of sleep in Dreamland. Coleman's eyes didn't frighten me I focused right on the pupils. "That me out of executing this sentence by what you told me this morning?" I couldn't follow his reasoning. Just how making me think my life was only a Dream such as I imposed on my own prisoners could help him, I couldn't see. "Warden Walker," Coleman intoned in his magnificent voice, "I'm "You show symptoms of being a habitual criminal, Coleman. I think you Coleman cocked his head thoughtfully, concerned. "That seems rather I couldn't figure him. Coleman had wealth and power as a councilman Dream world. Yet he didn't want to be in for life, the way Paulson and Horbit did. There seemed to be no point or profit in what he had told me that Coleman smiled benignly. "Certainly, Warden." "Do you think you can pull the wool over my eyes, you scamp? Mine eyes "You are going to have a companion from now on, an agent of the leader, who will pretend to be something he isn't. You must pretend to believe in what he claims to be, and convince him of your high intelligence, moral responsibilities, and qualities of leadership." He bolted upright in his chair. "You're going to put me back to sleep." "I came to talk to you about that," I admitted. I pulled up a seat and adjusted the lighting so only his face and mine shock I know only a fine analytical mind like yours could stand. You think your life as the great detective was only a Dream induced by some miraculous machine. But, sir, believe me: that life was this is the Dream. I've thought—" "No!" I snapped. "This world is also real."

<question>:
What were Coleman’s motivations in visiting the warden?

<options>:
A Providing the warden with his annual raise announcement
B Persuading the warden to step down from his position
C Gathering information to bring down the warden’s compound
D Scaring him into believing his life was a dream

<answer>:

D