In the vast universe, the birth and death of a galaxy is just a momentary mottled streamer.
Looking up at the starry sky, there is always a sadness that the ending is doomed, where are you and me thousands of years from now? The country, the fire of civilization, and the earth are all just a speck of dust in the deep space.
A moment of starry sky, a thousand years in the world.
Insects are singing for a lifetime, and you and I are fighting for the same time.
What exactly is at the end of deep space?
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