crimson moon hung low over the city's jagged skyline, nearly filling half the heavens.

rust-streaked, dark gray loop-line train sped through the crimson moonlight, carrying passengers in all manner of dress—some reading newspapers, others dozing under the dim glow of the carriage lights.

"Ding—Moon Platform Station, next stop!"

Lu Xin jolted awake from his nap, hoisted his bag, and followed the crowd out of the train.

Slung over his shoulder, the bag bumped against his back as he descended the grimy, rain-slicked steps of the station, past a platform littered with old newspapers, and emerged onto the city streets. The neon lights painted the roads and pedestrians in a kaleidoscope of garish colors, but no matter how vibrant the hues, the crimson moon above remained the world’s true backdrop.

Ever since the Crimson Moon Incident thirty years ago, the world had never been the same.

Of course, Lu Xin didn’t know any different—he’d been born after the Incident. To him, this was just how the world had always been.

He trudged through a post-rain alleyway, climbed the rickety stairs of an old building, and found the elevator, as usual, out of order. With a sigh, he trudged up to the fourth floor, stopped in front of Room 401, and unlocked the heavy door with his key.

The hallway was quiet and cold, but inside, the apartment was warm and soft.

In the kitchen, his father was stewing meat—the pressure cooker hissing and steaming, filling the air with the rich aroma of beef.

His sister lounged on the sofa, munching on snacks and watching an old cartoon—SpongeBob SquarePants.

His mother, elegant and poised in a white wool cardigan, stood by the window, speaking softly into her phone.

"Gege, you're back!"

Spotting Lu Xin, his sister looked up and grinned, setting her snacks aside.

"Did you behave today, Little Seventeen? I bought you the teddy bear you wanted."

Lu Xin ruffled her hair and handed her the small brown bear.

"Aww, thank you, Gege, I love it!"

She squealed with joy, hugging the bear tightly.

"Back already?"

His mother glanced at him and smiled. "Sit down and rest for a bit. Dinner will be ready soon."

Lu Xin nodded and took a seat at the dining table.

...

...

The table was already set with four bowls and chopsticks, a few plates of green side dishes, and steamed rice in bowls—though it had gone lukewarm.

Yet no one made a move to eat.

His mother continued speaking gently into the phone, "Sister Zhang, I really was in the wrong today. Don’t be angry. Yes, this gray cardigan is a bit old-fashioned, but how can you say it’s ugly? ...Right, that’s why I called you. ...Of course, you didn’t say it outright, but I know what you were thinking..."

"No, no, don’t misunderstand... I just wanted you to apologize... You shouldn’t curse, it’s so uncivilized..."

The sound of his father chopping bones grew louder, punctuated by grumbling curses: "Bastard, scum, breaking into people’s homes, damn it all, they all deserve to die... Damn, how can there be so much meat? No matter how I chop, it’s never enough, no matter how I boil, it’s never clean!"

Meanwhile, his sister sat cross-legged on the sofa, gleefully tearing apart the brown teddy bear—ripping off its ears, biting off its eyes, and yanking its arms off piece by piece, her face lit with manic delight as she watched the limbs detach from the body.

"We’ll eat in a bit!"

His mother finally hung up, smiling serenely. "I had a little misunderstanding with Sister Zhang next door. I’m going to apologize to her."

With that, she pulled out a pair of scissors from the drawer, walked out gracefully, and closed the door behind her.

...

...

Lu Xin sat quietly at the table, waiting.

He considered himself lucky. After the Crimson Moon Incident, the world had descended into chaos for a long time. Many had died, leaving behind orphans like him. Most of those orphans vanished once they grew up—but Lu Xin had been taken in by his parents, given a warm home. How many people could say the same?

Of course, this family—these family members—were a little strange at times.

But even so, in this crumbling, filthy little satellite city, their home was still whole.

His mother returned soon, a satisfied smile on her face. "Sister Zhang and I made up!"

Lu Xin noticed a faint, fresh bloodstain beneath the collar of her white cardigan.

The family began eating.

His sister still clutched her teddy bear, now crudely stitched back together with uneven, sloppy stitches—but she loved it even more than before.

His father sat at the table, uncorked a bottle of liquor with a smeared, illegible label, and downed a shot after each bite of greens. There was no meat on the table—his father loved butchering and stewing meat, but never let anyone eat it or even come near his pot. His plastic apron was splattered with blood, and a few flies buzzed lazily around him.

Outside, the wail of sirens grew louder, mingling with the distant murmur of voices.

"Bang!"

His father suddenly slammed his glass down, eyes bloodshot as he glared out the window. "Damn it, all they do is yell, never letting anyone eat in peace. Useless Security Bureau, can’t solve anything. Useless neighbors, always spying on people!"

"Don’t scare the child."

His mother picked up a piece of greens, chewing carefully. Her bright red lips stood out starkly under the dim light.

Lu Xin remembered—she didn’t wear lipstick.

"To hell with the child, damn it, they all deserve to die!"

His father grew even angrier, gripping the liquor bottle so tightly his veins bulged. "Whore, you deserve to die too!"

"Yes, in your eyes, everyone deserves to die—except you."

His mother smiled elegantly. "Because when they were alive, they had better lives than you, more talent than you, so you hate seeing them alive. You love watching them reduced to silence."

"Shut up, shut up, do you hear me?"

His father, finally enraged, smashed the bottle and lunged at her, choking her neck.

"Gurgle..."

His mother laughed delightedly, even as her face turned purple. "Id... idiot..."

"Bang!"

His father lost control, raining punches and kicks that shook the dining table.

"Waah... Daddy, don’t hit Mommy!"

His sister burst into tears, clutching her teddy bear—then, in an instant, her expression twisted into manic glee. "Fun, fun, so fun..."

Laughing, she suddenly leapt onto the table, spider-like, and hooked her legs around the chandelier, somehow locking herself in place. Twisting her head upside down, she stared at the chaos below, the teddy bear dangling from her mouth, her hands clapping wildly as she let out a sound that was half laughter, half sobbing: "So much fun..."

His father, now frenzied, seemed to swell in size, his shirt ripping as his back—covered in coarse black hair—bulged through the torn fabric. His face twisted grotesquely as he threw punch after punch, each blow landing with sickening force. His mother’s skin split open, but her voice remained eerily calm: "How delicious... this helpless rage..."

Lu Xin sat at the overturned table, slowly picking at the grains of rice in his bowl.

After the Crimson Moon Incident, a family like this was rare...

Even if his own family had its quirks—occasional fights, even violence—it was still home...

...

...

Outside, in a room directly facing the Lu family’s living room window, a simple workspace had been set up. short-haired woman in a casual blazer peered through a telescope, watching the Lu household.

Through the lens, the empty room seemed to quake—tables overturned, chandeliers swaying, cracks spiderwebbing across the window glass like white blossoms blooming under impact.

"The thirteenth psychic variant’s telekinetic abilities are manifesting."

Two young men in crisp uniforms stood beside her—one rapidly calculating, the other taking notes.

"Does he have recruitment potential?"

"What’s his threat level?"

"What are his specific abilities?"

The short-haired woman shook her head. "Still unclear. Unlike other variants, who display obvious signs early—like entering others’ dreams or accidentally spreading psychic plagues—he seems normal. Goes to work, does his job, even excels... but occasionally, his mind fractures."

"Sounds promising. Easy to guide."

From behind them, a stern-faced man asked, "Have we tried sending a dreamwalker into his subconscious for evaluation?"

"Yes!"

The short-haired woman nodded. "But the dreamwalker never came back."