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

boom--

The moment Hoshino slammed his left hand onto the cover of "As I Write," an invisible shockwave emanated from the round table and spread wildly outwards.

The lights in the carriage flickered violently as if there was a malfunction, and in the alternation of light and dark, everyone's shadows were stretched and distorted.

"hiss--"

Hoshino gasped sharply.

At that moment, she felt someone forcefully insert a red-hot iron rod into the top of her head and then frantically stir it inside her brain.

pain.

It hurts too much.

It hurts ten thousand times more than when my right hand was broken.

But that's not the worst part.

The most deadly thing is that along with this excruciating pain comes a chilling sense of emptiness.

Deep within my mind, a piece of the once-solid memory puzzle is crumbling.

Those are memories of the "right hand".

She remembered how she lost her right hand.

That was at the very beginning of my memory, during a fierce battle, to protect someone, or to block some attack...

The image was originally very clear.

Blood gushed out, bones shattered, excruciating pain shot through the air, and the enemy's狰狞 (zhengning - ferocious) smile appeared.

All of this was originally etched in her mind, every single detail was crystal clear.

But now.

The images began to blur.

It's like an oil painting that's been splashed with water; the paint starts to dissolve, and the lines begin to twist.

The enemy's face turned into a mosaic, and even the pain of losing an arm was rapidly fading.

"etc……"

"I screamed in my heart."

"This isn't right, is it?"

"This is my medal! This is the protagonist's standard 'painful past'!"

"How can it just disappear like that?!"

She desperately tried to grasp at the dissipating fragments.

She wanted to remember that pain, that hatred, and that moment that changed her destiny.

But it didn't work.

Memories are like sand slipping through your fingers; the harder you try to grasp them, the faster they slip away.

Instead.

It was a blank space.

A pure, illogical blank.

Followed by.

The blank space was filled.

It was filled with a completely different kind of memory.

Those are memories belonging to Onphalus.

It is Xing's record of bits and pieces about that world in "As I Write".

The golden sunlight of Ohma, the snow falling in Aidiria, and the eerie fog of Stikosia.

And those other people.

Aglaia's majesty on the throne, the wind violet's prayer under the tree, and the serf's leaps on the rooftop.

Countless images flooded in like a tide, filling the hole that had been dug out.

This filling came too fast and too intensely.

This gave Hoshino a very serious illusion.

She lowered her head.

Looking at my empty right side.

There……

There seems to be something there.

"what?"

Hoshi blinked.

My vision is a little blurry.

In that place where there should have been only air, she saw a hand.

A perfectly intact, long, and powerful right hand.

It's there.

Connecting to her shoulder, her fingers were slightly curled, and the lines on her palm were clearly visible.

"My hand..."

Hoshi muttered to himself.

"My hand...is it still there?"

"Yes, my hand has always been there."

"When did I ever lose a hand?"

"That memory of the severed hand... it must be fake, right?"

"Is this a dream?"

The boundary between reality and memory became completely blurred at this moment.

Hoshi could even feel the touch from that non-existent right hand.

The coolness of the air touched my fingertips, and the hardness of the table pressed against my palm.

Everything felt so real.

And at the very moment that thought crossed her mind.

The forces of destiny within her completely erupted.

Originally, because of his physical disability, although these powers were strong, there was always a sense of "leaking".

It's like a bucket with a hole; no matter how much water you put in, it will leak out.

But now.

As Hoshino subconsciously came to believe "I am whole," that "hole"...

It's blocked.

"Buzz—"

On Hoshino's chest, the black hole mark representing nothingness suddenly contracted.

It seemed to sense something and began to devour everything around it frantically, trying to prove that "nothingness" was the truth.

But next second.

A high-pitched dragon roar resounded in the veins of the star.

That is the residue of "immortality".

The dragon, which had long since perished, seemed to have come back to life.

The golden dragon shadows coursed through her meridians, tightly binding the black hole.

"Eternal life, forever immortal!"

He is roaring.

With that unreasonable vitality, it forcefully suppressed the engulfment of nothingness.

Followed by.

Countless tiny insect chirps rang out.

That's "breeding".

Although it was only a small amount of factor injected by Nguyen Mai, it demonstrated amazing adaptability in this chaotic situation.

It began to replicate and multiply wildly.

Using that illusory image of the right hand as a blueprint, they began to construct real flesh and blood.

Cell division, tissue reorganization, bone growth.

The speed is astonishing.

"I'll join in the fun too."

A warm, green energy surged up.

That is "abundance".

He was like a pair of gentle hands, soothing the rage and distortion brought about by reproduction.

He made those newborn flesh and blood delicate, healthy, and full of vitality.

A deep amber light shone forth.

The power of "preservation" transformed into an indestructible barrier, blocking the outside of the newly formed arm.

Outside the barrier, a huge mouth full of sharp teeth appeared out of nowhere; that was "Gluttony".

It tried to devour this newborn power, but the protective barrier knocked out two of its teeth.

"Memory" repairs those disordered neural connections.

"Joy" was jumping around nearby, occasionally playing pranks on the black hole of nothingness, preventing it from concentrating on causing destruction.

"Harmony" and "order" are like two conscientious traffic police officers, directing traffic in this mess, so that the various forces, though in conflict, can barely maintain a balance.

At last.

A dazzling light suddenly appeared, so bright that it was impossible to look directly at it.

"Pure beauty".

Although Idrila has disappeared, the concept of beauty still exists.

It took over the final shaping.

It wants to make this newborn hand perfect.

The skin should be fair, the fingers should be long and slender, the nails should be rounded, and even the direction of the palm lines should conform to the golden ratio.

"That's about it."

"That's what Hoshi thought to herself."

Although my head still hurts like it's going to split open, and although it feels like there's a battlefield fighting inside my body.

But she could sense it.

That hand.

They're really back.

"Then..."

She gritted her teeth, veins bulging on her forehead, sweat dripping down her cheeks onto the table.

"Get moving, you old hag!"

She tried to raise her right hand.

That right hand, built from countless forces of destiny, reforged from memories and beliefs.

Very heavy.

It felt like it was carrying a weight of a thousand pounds.

But it moved.

Little by little, it slowly and steadily left the desktop.

Just then.

A more magnificent, more ancient, and more indescribable force descended.

"The End".

That star god who reversed time and faced death to be reborn.

In fact, it could also be said that she herself finally made her move.

He did not participate in the previous chaos.

He simply watched quietly, waiting for the "result" to appear.

Now, the results are in.

Mohoshi raised his right hand.

This is a "fruit".

Then He must go and complete that "cause".

Time begins to flow backward.

Or rather, time began to overlap.

The space around the raised right hand of the yokai began to distort.

Those flesh and blood that were originally just phantoms were completely solidified into reality under the erosion of the final power.

It is no longer an aggregate of some kind of energy.

It is real.

It has a temperature.

It is alive.

at the same time.

This power of "reconstruction" flows along "As I Write," along that unseen channel of memory, rushing towards the void of darkness outside the window.

Since Hoshino's hand can "create something out of nothing".

So.

Why can't Onpharos?

Rumbling--

A muffled rumble of thunder came from the darkness outside the window.

That wasn't thunder.

That was the sound of space being torn apart and matter being reorganized.

Countless golden points of light lit up in the darkness.

They converge, rotate, and collide.

It was like a grand fireworks display.

First, the outline.

The outline of a massive, fragmented planet, yet imbued with a certain sacredness.

Then come the details.

Mountains, rivers, cities, ruins.

The towers of Ohma, the snowfields of Aidiria, the mists of Stikosia.

Everything is repeating itself at an astonishing speed.

The people in the carriage were stunned.

March 7th covered her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes.

Himeko put down her coffee cup, her eyes filled with shock.

Even the usually calm Dan Heng clenched his fists and stared intently out the window.

And in that gradually clearing light and shadow.

A huge, mirror-like object slowly emerged.

It hovered above Onpharos.

Its surface is as smooth as water, reflecting the entire world.

But oddly enough.

It has no border.

It's as if space itself has been cut open there, revealing another side of the scenery.

A mirror without leaks.

Xi Lian.

The mirror surface rippled slightly.

A figure walked out from inside.

Her long pink hair, with blue and purple ombre at the ends, looked like a nebula draped over her shoulders.

In his clear blue eyes, that unique diamond-shaped pupil shimmered with a gentle light.

She was barefoot, standing in the void.

With each step, a golden ripple spreads out beneath one's feet.

She looked in the direction of the Starry Sky Train.

Looking at Hoshi and Hoshi standing by the window.

then.

She smiled.

That smile was so gentle it could melt away all the ice in the world.

It's just like……

After countless cycles of reincarnation, the mother of the one who had returned home finally came.

It's like...

Lovers who have finally reunited after a long period of time.

Welcome back♪

Her voice wasn't loud.

Yet it clearly pierced through the vacuum, through the soundproof glass of the carriage, and resonated directly in everyone's hearts.

It carries a warmth that makes you want to cry.

Hoshi looked at that figure.

Her right hand—the newly reborn, still somewhat unfamiliar right hand—slowly rose and pressed against the cold glass.

My fingertips trembled.

"Xi Lian..."

Her voice was choked with emotion.

The excruciating pain has disappeared.

Instead, there was a bittersweet feeling of my heart being filled with something.

She turned her head and looked at Xing beside her.

Xingye was looking out the window.

Those grey-gold eyes were already brimming with tears.

It slid down her cheek.

A drop fell on the cover of "As I Write".

Their eyes met in mid-air.

No language is required.

No explanation is needed.

The joy of something lost and found again, the emotion that transcends life and death.

At this moment.

Complete resonance.