What does it mean to be free? To make a choice without consequence? To exist without obligation?

In We Rang the Sanctus Bells, a man believes he has untethered himself from the burdens of identity, responsibility, and fate. When he wins the lottery, he tells himself that wealth has liberated him, that he is no longer beholden to family, country, or morality. But the more he embraces this illusion, the more he becomes trapped—by his own nature, by the weight of his choices, by the inescapable truth that freedom is not the absence of chains but the slow realization that we were always shackled to something.

He convinces himself he is in control, yet every step he takes is guided by forces beyond his understanding. He tells himself he can define his own meaning, yet every attempt to do so leads only to self-destruction. In a world that punishes uncertainty, he becomes a man without belief, without certainty, and in doing so, he permits himself anything.

But what happens when a man who believes in nothing is forced to reckon with the consequences of his own actions? When he sees his own reflection in the eyes of those he has betrayed? We Rang the Sanctus Bells is an unflinching meditation on guilt, corruption, and the terrifying possibility that, in the end, we are nothing more than the sum of our worst instincts.

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