Thick fog flooded the city without warning. At first people thought it was just an ordinary fog, until the fog became thicker and thicker, so thick that it swallowed up the light, blocked the signal, and twisted the familiar streets into an unfamiliar maze. Lin Mo was trapped at home, watching the world outside the window being swallowed up by gray, leaving only dead silence. Then, he discovered that the old wall clock in his living room had changed its appearance. On the dial, in addition to the original twelve numbers, a scale that was as black as ink and had never been seen suddenly appeared. The pendulum froze and the hands pointed there motionlessly.
Some irresistible impulse drove him. When his fingers touched the cold clock face, the wooden shell rippled like water waves. He climbed in and fell into an incomprehensible abyss. When I "came back" again, the world was different. He saw Aunt Wang next door who always brought him snacks with a smile. The edges of her fingers were stained with rusty scissor blades and were bloody. Uncle Zhang, who was doing morning exercises downstairs, would make a harsh gear grinding sound when his neck turned. And the deeper fear came from himself - there was an unfamiliar itching sensation on his ankle, and something was slowly but firmly rising under the skin, outlining the prototype of a third foot. Deep in the thick fog, indescribable rules are rewriting everything, and he is sliding towards the edge of inhumanity.
