Prosthetic Takagawa wakes up in a dream. He gradually sobered up, gradually thought, some hazy thoughts were like the shadow of the moon in the water, rising to the sky, becoming a bright moon, and the bright moon was also spreading the hazy moonlight. In the half-dream, half-awake, those bits and pieces that constantly float in his mind, bring up bursts of ripples, so that he only feels that his soul is floating in a calm lake, with the help of the waves that I don't know if it is an illusion, I see pictures that I have never thought of, I see pictures that seem to be able to understand but in fact cannot understand them all, and I feel that I am not an immediate individual, but a diffuse whole, flowing in a grand cycle that cannot be described in words.

He felt calm, but at the same time he felt the urge to break away from it. He felt like he was struggling, but he couldn't imagine what kind of struggle it was. He also felt that he was used to it all.

There are innumerable voices that play when he becomes self-conscious, and there are innumerable movements that arise in this process of knowing who he is. It was as if the fragments of oneself scattered in the boundless sea were reunited in one place with these incomparably complex movements.

He, in such a grotesque and calm that cannot be described in detail, gradually recognises who he is.

- I'm Takakawa.

A voice, as if coming from one of his thoughts, was speaking to him:

If the "virus" is only a natural mechanism, then the suffering that people are experiencing today is inevitable, and all self-help is meaningless.

If the "virus" is such an existence, then the idea of solving the "virus" and thus saving people from the apocalypse is simply impossible to realize.

Therefore, for the existence form of "people", the "virus" must be "the culprit who subjectively promotes the end with malice".

This voice suddenly appeared, and the proportions continued to expand in the mind of the prosthetic Takakawa. He began to realize what he was thinking, but many of them faded with his own sobriety, and only one thought was clear, distinct, and its presence greater and heavier than the others, and if it were to be described in color, it would be gray-black, and in words he knew, it would be despair.

Prosthetic Takakawa was waking up, he knew that he was waking up, and the memories before his sleep were becoming clearer, more detailed, and more organized, however, when he began to consciously and actively think about and organize these thoughts, only an incomparably great despair and darkness filled his heart, as if to tell him that he should never have woken up at all.

Wakefulness is painful, thinking is painful, and the only way to rest is to sleep without knowing the self. As long as we live with a strong will, "living" itself is a shackle, a source of despair and suffering, however, the idea of "stubbornly fighting against these despairs and pains and still living" is in itself a great despair - it will never bring people any peace, nor will it have any meaning, clinging to man's own form, clinging to his own body and being a human being, and imposing subjective meaning on objective things, which is itself the embodiment of man's own limitations, And the shining point that man claims to have in this limitation is nothing but self-deception.

Man's thinking, man's soul, man's distinction between material and non-material, man's sense of independence from his own spirituality, and the spiritual things in relation to matter, are all nothing but an illusion. All the elements that make up "man" are unified and harmonious, and there is no classification and demarcation in human subjective cognition, but only an insignificant part of the grand and objective movement.

Man is not a living being, nor is he a philosophy, but purely an "objective movement", a detail in a grand objective movement of the whole. All cognition of the self is nothing but the embodiment of this movement – to recognize this, and to return completely to that essential objectivity, one will know what the "doomsday" is, what the "virus" is.

There is never a "doomsday", only the process by which one movement is transformed into another.

There is never a "virus", only the mechanism that inevitably arises in the process of movement transformation.

There is never an enemy, there is only one movement interfering with another, and this interference itself is just one variation of movement among thousands of movements.

Everything is a movement, and in a grand and holistic movement, each movement has its own necessary significance, and since this is the case, then the movement that manifests itself as the "end of the world" is meaningful, and the movement that manifests itself as the "virus" is also meaningful, and the other movements that are observed and realized in these movements, whether they are perceived as "salvation" or "struggle", or whatever else means, these meanings are nothing but the illusion of limitations, and their real meaning lies in the fact that they themselves are pushing the "end" and showing the "virus". "And so on.

"No, stop...... I can't think about it anymore, I can't think about it anymore......" Gao Chuan only felt that a pale and fragile "self" was wailing, and in that grandeur that could not be described in words, if it was forcibly described in words, what he got was only "distorted reason" in his thinking, the "Gao Chuan" cognition produced by his own cognition of self was so small, so depraved, so full of limitations - it was like putting a universe away, but embracing himself in a small cardboard box, and, There is no external force to force oneself to shrink in this small cardboard box, only one's own narrow and ignorant ideas are restricted.

The tragic scenes that I have witnessed in the past, whether about myself or about others, are nothing more than false illusions produced in this narrow and ignorant vision—in fact, there is no death, no apocalypse, no virus, and the essence of everything is nothing more than a mere change in movement, only from one form to another. Unable to accept this purely objective change of movement, but confined to the subjective self of the individual, it is the culprit who makes himself feel hopeless and miserable.

- No one is hurting Takakawa, it's just Takakawa hurting himself.

- Nothing is destroying others, and the misery seen is only subjectively giving meaning to the objective movement, but the other, as the subject of the objective movement, is not substantially destroyed.

……

- Perhaps, in fact, there is no Gao Chuan, no river, no virus, no mysterious experts, no so-called "humans" and "non-humans".

- The so-called "self" does not exist, and the act of knowing the self is wrong.

- "I" does not exist, you, me, him, all do not exist, and the perception of dividing boundaries is wrong.

"A grand ...... Ambitious ...... Grandiose movement, non-stop movement......" Takakawa screamed. He felt that he was about to lose it, that a terrible cognition was obliterating him, that the world he knew as a life was deforming and becoming something that even "cold objectivity" was not enough to describe. He didn't want to think like that, he kept struggling, he wanted to get rid of the self-obliterating cognition, he used all the philosophical and dialectical thinking he knew, to laugh at the objectivity, to emphasize the meaning of subjective consciousness to objective things, but it was useless at all.

That terrible cold and objective thinking, like the most essential thing, rotates unhurriedly but inexorably in self-knowledge. Then, suddenly, he understood:

Only "stupidity" can get out of it.

Only by not thinking can we escape from that fear, despair, and madness.

"No, no, no! I don't think so, I don't think so...... Let me think about it, let me think about it again......" Prosthetic Takakawa held his head in pain, and when his hand touched his head, he suddenly realized that his consciousness had returned to the prosthetic body - no, it should be said that being imprisoned in the prosthetic body, this feeling of imprisonment was so strong, even if he subjectively did not want to think so.

When he rediscovered what kind of state his prosthetic body was, all the sensations were disordered, painful and depressed, as if he had been forced into a small thumb-sized box from the vast world that could be stretched. However, there is an idea to try to make yourself accept this little box.

He only felt that he was abusing himself, that he was testing himself, that he was limiting himself, and that he couldn't help but think: Why treat yourself like this?

Of course, Takakawa remembered what he had thought before it turned out like this, and what factors had prompted him to make the decision. Until the Three Immortals Island completely took over the prosthetic body, he remembered it clearly. He even remembered that he was ready to fall asleep. However, his current sobriety made him feel the ignorance he had realized at that time. He doesn't feel like he's sorry for all this, but it's definitely not a "just like this" feeling.

It doesn't feel good at all now, rather, it's a pain altogether, countless times more painful than any encounter in the past. It is not physical pain, it is not mental pain, but it is a pain that comes from the depths of self-knowledge, it is the pain of the mind. As long as you are still thinking, you can't stop the pain.

There are some crazy and unreasonable things that are depriving him of hope as "Gao Chuan". It was as if he could hear the deep questioning of his own heart, and what was visible before him, both intelligible and incomprehensible, seemed to be fading away from its superficial form, revealing a mechanism of necessity, as if to speak to him of the nature of this movement. He also saw many hallucinations, each of which was his own melting in a complex and cold movement that could not be described in words.

"I, I'm ......melting," muttered Prosthetic Takakawa, looking at the image of the prosthetic body in the self-examination, the prosthetic body's melted appearance like a candle, as if it was a sign of something—even if this state of melting and deformation did not make him die.

Takakawa does not feel his own death, but his madness, fear, and despair seem to have been strengthened to the point of no further because he does not feel his own "death", as if he is going to live forever with all this terrible madness. He will continue to live in pain until he gives up the act of "imprisoning himself", until he gives up the narrow self-perception of "Takakawa".

Prosthetic Takakawa can clearly feel that everything that is used to maintain self-perception as "Takakawa" is collapsing in an orderly manner, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, but it does not stop. When he completely collapses, he is no longer "Takakawa", but not dead, but only transformed, into another form to continue to complete the movement in that form - when he imagines that scene, even if he can't imagine it, there is a sense of liberation, as if the end he wants to go to the most is not to become a super Takakawa, not to save anyone, but to be freed from the responsibility he has given himself, and to detach himself from the narrow limitation of "Takakawa".

Prosthetic Takagawa saw that in the self-examination, his form was still changing, and the "melting" was definitely not the last change, after the "melting", a new shape was being generated, which was by no means the appearance of a human form, but it was impossible to describe what kind of form it was. The outline of the melted part is not clear, as if it is no longer some kind of solid substance that is hard, but a wonderful phenomenon like thunder and lightning, but it is by no means a natural phenomenon that can be seen in nature.

He could feel from this vaguely deformed silhouette that after he became like that, he could become any kind of image, and even change back into the image of "Takakawa", but there was also a voice from the depths of his heart that told him that at that time, no matter how much the image and Takakawa had always been, it would definitely not be "Takakawa" inside, and even if it was definitely not a "human".

"I am not dead, I am neither born nor disappeared, but only change from one way to another, from one thing to another, from one movement to another, constantly changing...... Change ......," muttered Takagawa.

In this terrible process, Prosthetic Takakawa has thought of countless ways to try to keep himself as it is. The last straw he finally grasped was also the basis of Takakawa's personality mechanism - the responsibility that he imposed on himself.

Regardless of whether or not the essence of the subject of "Takakawa" has this responsibility, it is Takakawa's own commitment that maintains the center of the personality of "Takakawa" when he is a human being.

"—I want to be a hero." Prosthetic Gao Chuan muttered to himself, and his distracted gaze recondensed, making his somewhat dilated pupils light up, and the facial features that had begun to melt gradually resurfaced on his face. Most of the prosthetic body had melted and deformed as a humanoid form, but the last remaining head had solidified back before it completely dissolved and deformed, and continued to exist as "Takakawa's head".

At this moment, his image is like a gray-black statue with a human head on top of it, but the body has not been shaped, without hands or feet, unable to distinguish the torso, full of distortion, strange and disgusting.