In the forgotten space between heartbeats, a silvered edge consumes all light that once forged an identity. Here in the unknown, faces surface from cosmic dust, eerily familiar yet forever elusive. Each contour an echo of a life unlived.
She stands before the fractured mirror, where galaxies twist into her eyes. "Is that truly what you see?" whispers the nebula, voice threaded through ancient starbursts. She wonders if being seen is ever less than becoming.