In his eyes, the strangely beautiful man was packaging horror into an ideal and spreading it everywhere.
Perhaps, K is more suitable for the image of a siren than he is, seducing and fascinated by illusions, heading irresistibly toward sinking, madness, or death step by step. Throwing the purified world into a barbaric and hateful pretext, unconsciously approaching the destruction prepared for itself, precise and ruthless.
Nothing happened, nothing was entirely real, or entirely unreal.
He had missed the pieced together truth.
Conception: