Absolute exists in different deposits, and one of them is the superposition, the multi-staffity of objects. Mirror surfaces become a real attempt to catch the truth behind the tail. These items were subordinated to man, but were abandoned in pursuit of the desired new trophy. A world where everything is lying to you, trying to hide, but doesn’t stop showing up and whispering about something. But we can’t measure the volume of the human «What?» with a whispering answer that’s just drifting away. That’s when you realize the prison and your stabbing. I’m just knocking on the walls of my room and hearing an empty voice, but I don’t know if it’s a plaster, whether it’s a secret room, whether it’s a world behind it. All of this is the sadness of the soul, asking for life about its secret. And in our search for the fifth corner, we have a question: who is the observer and where is his instrument?