Underground Archives

"I will die in every line. You can't change it. - But every time you come, the day I die will be one more of you. That day will be one less lonely." Shi Tianming is 32 years old and the administrator of the archives of the institute. He met with his grandma's former colleagues just to confirm one thing - he was not inheriting his grandma's schizophrenia. Before she died, my grandma repeatedly said, "Don't touch things underground" and "Green ones are the most dangerous." Everyone said that was crazy. But the butterfly drawn with water on the napkin flashed a green light that shouldn't exist before evaporating; a brass key engraved with "19780815" warmed up on its own in his palm; under the hairline on the back of his neck, a butterfly-shaped mark was slowly forming at the bottom of the skin. The third underground floor of the institute - B3 - was sealed with cement many years ago. Under the layer of black solvent that was deliberately applied on the drawing, there are three words that grandma pressed deeply into the paper with a pencil: The mirror has been placed. Shi Tianming opened the iron door...