In the blizzard in the Bronze Temple, Cangming's blade froze for the 700th time, and the coat of arms of the day suddenly collapsed into the sound of a baby crying. Observer Shi Yuan shook off a twelve-sided dice from the hem of her skirt, and its edges reflected the silhouettes of the three people in different timelines - Cangming's mechanical irises overflowed with bronze codes, and the day's gene chain was reorganized into unfamiliar faces on the mirror, while deep in Shi Yuan's pupils, the laboratory from twenty years ago was feeding a holographic iris with their memories. When the dice was rotated for the 129,601st time, a line of wet writing suddenly appeared on the page: "By the time you read this, the iris roots will have wrapped around your clock."
