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The old streets,the clatter of trams, tourists wandering through the city-so many new faces pass through it every day that it all starts to feel like nothing. To me, Lviv feels like quiet. It always has. Days blur into weeks,and only dreams seem to break the routine. But one day, they’ve changed. Soft. Almost comforting… Until they end the same way - with my death. Waking up feels like escape. But what if dreams aren’t just dreams? What if they’re trying to warn me… about something - or someone?