A spinning disc becomes the gateway to something unsettling. What begins as a simple optical illusion transforms into a meditation on perception itself, where the boundary between what moves and what merely appears to move starts to dissolve. The film operates in that uncanny space where animation techniques become part of the story rather than just tools to tell one. Furukawa Taku constructs a visual experience that feels almost hypnotic, building atmosphere through repetition and the subtle subversion of your own expectations. There's a playfulness here, but it carries an edge. The work invites you to sit with discomfort, to question what you're actually seeing and whether your eyes can be trusted. This is animation made as pure creation rather than narrative vehicle, demanding active attention from viewers willing to sit with abstraction and ambiguity. It rewards patience with a singular, memorable experience that lingers after it ends.