I did not write this to be understood, but to leave behind what I thought when I could no longer tell if I was truly alive or only dreaming of it — When the Dream Refused the End — doesnt ask what a dream is It asks—if truth itself begins to deceive us, what is left for us to believe in? I only wish to hear the voice of someone who still dares to question, even when they already know there is no answer
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When the Dream Refused the End (ENG)I did not write this to be understood, but to leave behind what I thought when I could no longer tell if I was truly alive or only dreaming of it — When the Dream Refused the End — doesnt ask what a dream is It asks—if truth itself begins to deceive us, what is left for us to believe in? I only wish to hear the voice of someone who still dares to question, even when they already know there is no answer
A young knight named Arthur awakens from three years of slumber in a remote village, after once battling a dragon and being gravely wounded
He remembers nothing of what came before. The villagers revere him as a hero who drove away the beast, yet within him grows a silent doubt
Arthur sets out on a journey to uncover the truth of his past—and of a world he no longer knows to be real or dreamed
Along the way, he meets those bound to the same uncertain fate: a priest, a sorcerer, a jester, a nobleman, a rebel—each reflecting a wound, a belief, and an ideology that clashes with his own
As fragments of memory return, Arthur learns that he was entangled in rebellion and war
The King of the Western Realm—a man with the face of a friend from another world—stands at the heart of that confusion between faith and dominion, between the ideal and the will to rule
Every encounter becomes an echo of one question: Who are we, when even the memories that define us can no longer be trusted?
In the end, the world shatters along with the boundary between dream and truth.
Arthur stands amid the ruins, unable to name himself any longer—
not a hero, not a rebel, not the awakened nor the dreamer,
but merely what remains of someone else’s telling
They who have walked, did not choose the path themselves.
They who have spoken, did not speak from the self.
And those you shall meet—listen deeper than the words they utter.