As I continued through the streets, through the smoke of the burnings and the rubble of the fires and explosions--for during the chaos of the quarantine parts of the city had become something like war zones--my heart began to perceive that there was a wound in the material world that no amount of science could heal, that in fact science itself was only the helpful lie told to a dying man.
The narrator navigates through a city ravaged by chaos, witnessing destruction everywhere due to quarantine measures. The environment resembles a war zone, filled with the aftermath of violence and despair. As he observes the devastation, he feels a profound sense of loss and realization regarding the limitations of human understanding and science.
This experience leads him to conclude that there is a deep wound in the fabric of reality that cannot be remedied by scientific progress. He perceives science as a comforting illusion for those facing mortality, suggesting that there are truths and wounds in existence that transcend empirical explanations.
