He woke up from a dream into a dream, in a grimy motel room that smelled of sickly detergent. Little did he know that his dream was not over yet. The reality was non-existent. Dreams felt more real than reality and reality became like desert sand; shifting, elusive, and deceptive. He did not know if his dream was slipping into reality or his reality was slipping into a dream.

From his window, he saw a war ridden, destructed part of the city after China's fall in the Sino-Japanese war. Soon as one nightmare ended, the other started banging at the door. His doctor said that these nightmares were the side effects of war and the only way to get rid of them was to face his demons. Walking on broken roads with ashes of the past surrounding him and falling on his head as he dragged his bullet-struck leg behind him, a consistent reminder of the horror of his past. The earth slowly shifted beneath his feet as the sky gave way to an oblivious vacuum. He finds himself standing on the threshold of death from where he looks at heaven and hell with Satan as his tour guide. The boundaries between dream and reality vanish as everything around him falls apart and mere anarchy is loosened upon his world. The way to his redemption is a difficult one, if only he had lived.