Collapse Iron: Cosplaying the Near-Death Star, but with a full destiny.

Following the action of putting away the photo album on March 7th, one's gaze naturally follows the mirror.

"Haa..."

March 7th let out a big yawn, and a few tears welled up in the corners of her eyes.

"I'm tired of talking, I'll show you the rest tomorrow."

She closed the thick photo album.

A soft snap.

All those colors associated with snowfields, fairy boats, and Pinocchio have been confined beneath the cover.

The girl turned to the side, stretched out her arm, and placed the photo album on the bedside table on that side.

It was placed right next to the little duck-shaped table lamp that was used as a nightlight.

"Okay, now it's really time to sleep."

March 7th rubbed her eyes, crawled back into bed, and made sure to straighten the Pam doll a little more.

Goodnight, Hoshino. Don't think about those messy things anymore, sweet dreams.

"Hmm... Goodnight."

Hoshi responded.

The sound was a bit weak.

The lights in the room weren't completely off; the little duck nightlight still emitted a faint, warm yellow glow, casting a blurry shadow on the surrounding objects.

Nihoshi did not close his eyes.

The memory of the Zerg was still churning in my mind. Although the image had disappeared, the chilling feeling of being watched by countless compound eyes lingered.

She subconsciously turned her head toward the bedside table.

My gaze drifted aimlessly over the little duck nightlight, over the Pam doll, and finally...

It landed on the oval makeup mirror hanging above the bedside table.

This mirror is what March 7th usually uses to comb her hair and admire herself; its edges are decorated with pink lace and a few sparkling rhinestones.

At this moment, in the dim light of the nightlight, the mirror reflected everything on the bedside table.

That little duck that's glowing.

Those neatly arranged water glasses.

and also……

not at all.

In that instant, Hoshino's pupils contracted to the size of pinpoints.

In the mirror.

That spot that should have been filled with thick photo albums.

Empty.

That photo album, which holds countless beautiful memories, was just being flipped through by March 7th as if reciting a treasure.

It doesn't exist in the mirror at all.

Instead.

It was a string of numbers floating above that blank space.

Blood red.

It's as if some kind of still-flowing blood was used to directly smear numbers deep within the mirror.

167:59:58

167:59:57

The numbers are jumping.

Each second of reduction is accompanied by a slight ripple on the mirror's surface, as if someone is gently tapping it with their fingers from behind.

Hoshi felt as if all the blood in her body had frozen in an instant.

What is this?

Countdown?

Whose countdown is it?

mine?

Or...from this world?

One hundred and sixty-seven hours...that's about a week.

What will happen in seven days?

Is it a repeat of the tragedy of that red dwarf star?

Or has the destiny within me completely spiraled out of control?

Or is it……

The final judgment?

Gudong.

An uncontrollable swallowing sound came from his throat.

It stood out exceptionally clearly in the quiet of the night.

"Um?"

March 7th, who was almost asleep, hummed incoherently.

"What's wrong... why aren't you asleep..."

She turned over, half-opened her eyes, and followed Hoshino's stiff gaze to the mirror.

Are you looking in the mirror?

March 7th muttered.

"Looking in the mirror in the middle of the night...it's kind of scary..."

Hoshi suddenly turned to look at her.

"Can...can you see?"

His voice was so hoarse it sounded like two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together.

"What do you see?"

March 7th rubbed his eyes and looked in the mirror again.

"Do you think I'm cute? Or do you see that the photo album is crooked?"

From March 7th's perspective.

A mirror is just a mirror.

The room was reflected in the mirror, along with the thick photo album on the bedside table and the adorable little duck.

There weren't any blood-red numbers.

There are no lost memories.

Everything is normal.

It's so normal it's insane.

Hoshi stared intently into March 7's eyes.

Those pink eyes were crystal clear, without a trace of fear, only weariness.

It's invisible.

Only I can see it.

Is this the curse of "nothingness"?

Or was it a private message from "The End"?

In this cramped room, reality is split in two.

Half of it is the normal world where March 7th is, filled with beautiful memories and peaceful sleep.

The other half is the dimension of despair where the planet is located, where the photo album has disappeared, the countdown hangs high, and the shadow of death looms.

"without……"

Ye Xing felt an indescribable chill creep up his spine to the top of his head.

She forced herself to look away, no longer looking at the string of blood-red numbers that were still jumping around.

167:59:53

"It's nothing."

She pulled the blanket up and covered her head with it.

He curled up completely in the darkness.

Shivering.

"It's just... I think that mirror is a bit dirty, I'll wipe it clean tomorrow."

"Oh... okay..."

March 7th didn't think much of it, and didn't even hear what she was saying, so she turned over and went back to sleep.

His breathing quickly became steady and long.

But Hoshi couldn't sleep.

In the small, dark space of the bed.

The countdown numbers seemed to still be imprinted on her retina.

Tick.

Tick.

That's the sound of time's footsteps.

It was also the knocking of death.

Seven days.

Only seven days left.