On the winter night of 1931, twelve-year-old Roland witnessed an evil sacrifice in the quarry, and a gap opened in his fate.
Seven years later, he returned to his hometown as a history student, only to unearth a dark red book bound in inhuman skin. During the roar of World War II artillery fire, the "film" of reality became fragile in collective fear.
When the surface of the world gradually becomes transparent, what is the deeper abyss between sticking to the human form and engaging in endless cognition?
