On the rooftop, the people in the fence struggled hysterically like prisoners, wailing, making heart-palpitating noises like hysteriates, screaming, whispering, muttering, moaning in pain, as if another soul was arguing in their brains, as if they didn't even know they had fallen to the ground, their curled bodies twitching, as if they couldn't even hear their own screams. No one would think that such a group of people were once sober and rational researchers, that they were like models of the madmen in mental hospitals, doing what is commonly recorded in the history of mental illness madness, and that the voices they uttered were merely the whispers of madmen to the ears of others, but to themselves it was as if they had discovered the truth of the world. They cheered at the flashes of thought that came to their minds, but they were also terrified by the secrets that the light revealed.

"O God, O God! We're just here, we're just here......"

"Leave me alone, let me go, don't let me think about it anymore. I don't want to think about it anymore...... Ahem...... No, don't ......"

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no! I can't think anymore, my brain can't stop, I'm going to explode......"

"Let me stop thinking. Ignorance, ignorance is the way of human existence......"

There was not a single visible entity targeting the poor creatures, all the anomalous movements they had ever felt, and the unusual sights they had been looking at, all of them were isolated from this rooftop, blocked by barbed wire, railings, windows, and gates, but something invisible and inexplicable—maybe a force, maybe a form, maybe a phenomenon, maybe a movement, a concept that was so different from common sense, burrowed into their brains like worms, Let them go crazy for everything they can think of. Everything they could think about seemed more real than a nightmare, but they couldn't stop themselves from imagining, thinking, catching that flash of inspiration, and the cleverness they used to be proud of had become an invisible killer at this moment, destroying all the foundations on which they knew themselves and understood the world.

They have to feel terrified, even though this process and the initial source of the pathology are beyond their observation, but the destructive phenomena it brings are happening to them, and they cannot stop it, knowing that their intellect is heading for an irreparable collapse in a state of ignorance, their outlook on life, worldview, morality, values, philosophy, and belief...... All kinds of ideas that are the standard by which things are judged are distorted, distorted, and bizarre that they themselves never imagined before, but the self-proclaimed strong will of human beings cannot prevent such changes, distortions, and collapses.

Even, in this sense of powerlessness, they feel more than ever that the so-called "thinking" is only an insignificant part of the movement of the laws of the universe, and the so-called "will" is a phenomenon based on this small movement, which may also be called an illusion, and those things that seem to be rooted in materiality, those things that are expounded from the spiritual level, are not peculiar, and people feel that these are important only because of their own ignorance.

Different understandings of things are constantly coming to their minds, and they "come up with them" and when they think this is their own idea, they suddenly think "is this from their own?" Is it strictly original by yourself? "In that painful thought that inflated them, they had to deny that these thoughts came from themselves.

- There must be something terrible stuffing these horrible thoughts, thought movements, and spiritual wills into my brain.

Such ideas are extremely common and inevitable in the minds of these researchers, making them feel that they have learned the truth of what has happened, and they do not consciously have to think about what kind of thing, what kind of existence, what kind of way to be able to do such a thing. They have even come up with dozens of theories that can explain the current situation, but each theory is not feasible, often because they recognize that they lack the conditions and resources to operate and test these theories, and this self-awareness only drives them crazy.

Everyone is afraid of their present self and this seemingly endless mental activity, and they can clearly have a premonition that if they do not stop, the physical structure of the body will even be changed because of this expanded mental activity, which is not just a change in the spirit, but a change in the material from the spirit.

They have so many things to think about, and they have falsified more scientific truths in this period of time than they have been denied by scholars in the past 100 years, and they don't feel that they are wrong, but if they think about these things that are wrong, then where is the right thing? The scope of these reflections includes the basic understanding of human beings about themselves and the world, and they have a desire in their hearts, both afraid of success and longing for success. Either way, it's as if you're going to destroy yourself.

They can see each other's state clearly, but even if they do, they don't have the more energy to pay attention to it, because all their brains seem to be spent thinking about the problems they can think of. No matter how painful, sick, or wrong it is, no one else has the strength to take care of it except for himself.

The people on the rooftops began to roll, they tore their protective suits, they lifted their breathing masks, they couldn't wait to meet the fresh air, they pounded their heads, chests and floors so hard that the pain could make them feel better. There is no doubt that they are torturing themselves by any human standard, but even so, a mysterious and twisted smile appears on their faces, which makes people shudder.

“…… No, no, no, no, no! Stop, stop, stop! The principal seemed to have barely broken free from the large and violent whirlpool of thoughts, and his distorted expression calmed a little, but his eyes were still full of struggle, as if he would fall into the same madness in the next moment. Even though he didn't fight, he felt powerless, as if every inch of bone and nerve had been crushed, and he could only crawl on the ground like a worm, and although he wanted to revive his fellow companions who were also going crazy, such thoughts were quickly swallowed up by a more violent frenzy of thought. He felt that his perception of himself was crumbling, and the only thing he could do was to leave the rooftop and climb back into the stairs behind the door, so that he would not be directly illuminated by the crazy blood moon.

Yes, his thoughts warned him that the source of this irresistible madness was the heavy blood-colored moon above his head. Or rather, it's not the moon at all, it's something different from the common sense that the moon revolves around the earth. Although it is impossible to understand why it appeared on this night instead of the moon, its appearance has been proven to be fatal by its own people.

"Don't think, don't think, don't think......" the principal warned himself weakly, and as he squirmed towards the door, he crawled so slowly that the crawling motion seemed like a mechanical instinct when reason was fluttering in that madness. It was only when he touched the door that the texture was different from that of the things around him that his eyes broke free from that crazy look, and he could still hear himself muttering a steady stream of crazy words—crazy words that were fatal to a person who was good at thinking and liked to think, and he had to keep himself from thinking.

If you think, you will lose, you will die, you will become something else - his instinct warned him.

And the reason why he was able to realize the danger faster than the others, and still retain the subtlety when the others lost the ability to resist, was only because he had seen more similar situations than the others. Rather, on this planet, someone who knows better than him what kind of danger he is encountering, may not even be able to count on ten fingers.

It may be confusing and questionable to say it, but the person in charge has a sensitivity to many changes that ordinary people cannot compare with the same inability to understand the "virus" and related situations, and the same inability to understand the various anomalies that are currently occurring. He even knew that although he had not seen any anomalous entities so far, those anomalous things, which had been created or had descended, were hiding in this isolated island hospital, becoming active as the condition continued to deteriorate.

What I once heard was that there seemed to be some kind of behemoth movement downstairs, which was definitely not my own auditory hallucination, but something real.

So, he was more cautious than anyone else, and he was more frightened - the situation was completely different now than it was a few hours ago.

"Help, help, help......" A hand put on the subject's arm as he struggled to open the door, and the distressed researcher was the only companion the principal had encountered who could still consciously signal for help. Although he didn't understand what this person had temporarily escaped from a part of his thinking frenzy, he certainly couldn't ignore such a person. Moreover, if there is a new change in the future, he does need a companion, or more companions, to feel that there is a possibility of solving the trouble.

The principal is well aware of what makes him different from others, but this aspect of peculiarity is not enough to save him.

The principal did not have the strength to respond to the man's cry for help, but patted the other person's hand with all his might, and the moment the other party let go of his hand as if he understood, his body was like a spring, and all the power he had accumulated for a long time was vented. He finished the process of opening the door, dragging his companion up, and falling behind the door in one go.

They tumbled up the stairs by the door, into the corner of the corner, and the once-opened door slammed itself shut as if something alive with consciousness and purpose. The crimson moonlight was isolated on the rooftop, and the air, which had been cold but clear in the night wind, became turbid again, and this cloudiness only made the two who had escaped from the rooftop feel that they had returned to the world from hell.

The two hugged each other, curled up in the corner and gasped for breath, and it took a long time before they regained the strength to open their eyes. Gradually, the two of them could hear more sounds, and the constant sound of abnormal movement from downstairs was still continuing, as if the anomaly in this building had not changed significantly after they and others entered the rooftop. Even so, it's hard to believe that it hasn't changed.

They feel the need to say something to avoid thinking about the thoughts that seem to stop expanding in their minds for a while, and to divert their attention. However, the brain capacity that has been freed up so hard that they don't know what to say. As soon as they think about "what should they say", more ideas will arise about this direction, and they will be a little nervous. They tried to empty their heads, as if to prove that they had made the right choice to escape from the rooftop, and this time they could barely do it.

Although a respite that seemed to be okay for the time being, the movement from downstairs was still approaching, and the others who were still on the rooftop, and the others who were exposed to the blood-red moonlight did not need to worry about the anomaly that seemed to be climbing up the stairs. Even so, is it better for the two of them who have gotten rid of the Scarlet Moonshine, or is it better for the other people who don't need to worry about any anomalies other than the Scarlet Moonshine? Even the two parties cannot make a judgment with certainty.

"That's, that'...... What is your name? The principal asked in a dry voice.

“…… Not a husband. The man replied, and it was only then that the principal noticed that the man's hazmat suit seemed to be intact, an embarrassing contrast to the torn tatters on his body. This is unusual, the person in charge knows that the power that destroys the mind will never release water on anyone, that is, this person may be less affected by the blood-colored moonlight than he is - he is special, and this person does not seem to be normal.

Moreover, this man, it seems, is a man, and his name is really the strangest thing so far: not a husband? What's the hell in name? It's simply incomprehensible, is it a bad joke?

"No, don't do ......," the principal stumbled over his mouth.

"Don't be a husband." The man repeatedly emphasized, "Not to be a husband, not to be a husband." ”

“…… Is there any difference? The principal couldn't help but ask rhetorically.