[The countdown begins, the rule is death]
After restoring an antique pocket watch, my wrist was locked by it, and the scarlet numerals began to count down the 72 hours of my life.
The only way to survive is to break into a strange space with self-consistent rules: in the apartment where you must always smile, the corners of the neighbor's mouth are tearing; in the absolutely silent library, knowledge is spread in the form of screams...
I thought I was just a prisoner struggling to survive.
Until I saw a design drawing of my workbench in the core of a certain space.
Until I discovered that all the loopholes in the rules perfectly fit my thinking logic.
Until that watch that reminded me of my death, when I was about to die, a cold reminder came for the first time: [Core abnormality detected. Permissions are temporarily open. Please write a new rule for the current space.
I suddenly realized that the source of this strange talk about rules sweeping the world might be hidden in the fire in my studio three years ago.
And what I have to do now is not only to survive before the countdown reaches zero.
What's more, I want to find the one who turned the world into a cage—the first "I".
