Delete, Heap

Everything is stacked up by particles, and there is no clear boundary between true and false. After his death, Cheng Mo traveled around the fragmented worlds as a deleter. He desperately accumulated points just to get a chance to talk to his son. A crayon drawing maintained his self that was about to collapse. Along the way, the regrets of countless strangers flooded into my consciousness. He has seen too many obsessions that cannot be achieved, and he gradually understands that the barriers of time and space are insurmountable, and others cannot share the shackles of worry. All the accumulated thoughts and guilt, in the end, I can only find a way out by myself.