Only that patch of light and shadow continued to flow slowly, as if nothing had happened.
Sparkle narrowed her eyes and looked down at the mask in her hands.
The mask lay quietly in her palm, grinning, as if silently inviting her.
Just then, a voice rang out in her ear.
“Put it on…”
Sparkle was stunned.
She looked left and right, but there was no one there.
“Put it on…
Put it on…
Put it on…”
The voice was ethereal and intermittent, as if it came from far away, yet also as if it were ringing directly in her mind.
Sparkle blinked, then cleared her throat and provided the voiceover herself: “Put it on— Put it on— Put it on— How about that?
Do I sound like it?”
That’s right, she had provided the voice herself.
There was no demonic voice ringing in her ears at all; it was all just her amusing herself.
Sparkle chuckled twice, held the mask up to her eyes, and examined it carefully.
This mask reminded her of a movie she had seen before.
What was it called…
The Mask?
In that movie, the protagonist became a different person after putting on the mask, possessing super abilities and a completely different personality.
Could this thing have a similar effect?
Sparkle couldn’t help but shiver, imagining herself becoming someone else after putting on the mask—if she turned into something weird, that wouldn’t be fun at all.
But then she thought, this was something given by Aha.
What more was there to say?
We’re all buddies.
She casually slapped the mask onto her face.
Suddenly, everything went black.
It was as if the switch to the entire world had been turned off.
Sparkle felt her whole body sink, as if falling into a bottomless abyss, or as if she had been stuffed into a ball of cotton.
It was soft, light, and she couldn’t exert any strength, as if she had returned to the initial T-shaped space.
In her daze, she seemed to hear someone talking.
The voice came from very, very far away, ethereal and intermittent, as if separated by a thick curtain of water—
“Cosmic Superman~”
Sparkle frowned.
What on earth?
“Open your eyes~ I am Zoffy-nana~ I am a Cosmic Guard Nana of the SM78 Nebula~ Come back with me~”
Sparkle’s brow furrowed even tighter.
What kind of nonsense was this?
The voice grew closer and clearer, but also increasingly noisy, like a fly buzzing in her ear, buzzing, buzzing, annoying as hell.
“Open your eyes~ Open your eyes~ Open your eyes~”
Sparkle wanted to open her mouth to tell it to Shut Up, but found she couldn’t speak.
She frowned, wanting to open her eyes, but her eyelids were as heavy as lead.
The voice continued, getting louder and more piercing, as if someone were shouting into a megaphone right by her ear—
“I’m telling you to open your eyes, damn it!!!
Are you Yodolon?!”
“Slap—!!!”
A loud slap.
Sparkle felt a sharp pain in her face and jolted up as if struck by lightning.
She opened her eyes.
The first thing that came into view was a white ceiling with a few lights emitting a soft glow.
Sparkle lay blankly on the bed, her mind a complete blank, not yet realizing what had happened.
Then the pain in her face struck again.
She raised her hand to touch it and could feel obvious swelling; her entire left cheek was puffed up higher than her right.
Sparkle slowly turned her head, her gaze sweeping around.
This was a medical room with white walls, white sheets, and various medical instruments placed nearby.
She was lying on a bed, covered by a thin quilt, still wearing her red and white uniform, though it was a bit disheveled.
Not far from her, on another bed, lay a person—a gray-haired girl, eyes closed, breathing steadily, sleeping soundly.
It was Stelle.
Just as Sparkle was about to speak, a familiar voice exploded in her ear—
“Teacher Dan Heng!
Sparkle is awake!”
It was March 7th.
Sparkle turned her head and saw the girl with short pink hair standing by the bed, looking at her with a face full of surprise.
March 7th was wearing that blue and white dress, looking very energetic.
Not far away, Dan Heng was sitting on a chair, holding a book.
Upon hearing March 7th’s shout, he looked up and glanced over with an expressionless face.
Sparkle raised her hand and asked calmly: “Don’t rush, tell me, who hit me?”
Her voice was a bit hoarse, and because her left cheek was swollen, her words were a bit slurred, which sounded inexplicably funny.
March 7th froze for a moment, then waved her hands frantically, shaking her head like a rattle-drum: “It wasn’t me!
It wasn’t me!
I, I, I, I didn’t do it!”
Sparkle turned her gaze to Dan Heng.
Dan Heng was still wearing his poker face, shook his head, and said indifferently: “Not me.”
Sparkle’s gaze continued to move.
It moved to the door.
A monkey was squatting there.
It was furry, holding half a banana, with its back to her, two little paws gripping the door frame, seemingly planning to sneak away.
Seemingly sensing the gaze behind it, the monkey slowly turned its head, revealing that silly expression.
Then its eyes lit up, and it shouted in an exaggerated tone: “Hey!
Sparkle!
You’re awake!
That’s great!”
While speaking, it inched toward the door, its little paws still fumbling for the doorknob behind it.
“Oh, I, I, I, I forgot something, I’ll go get it right now—”
The next second, Sparkle appeared beside it.
She grabbed the monkey’s Tail and lifted it up entirely.
Sparkle held it up to her eyes, her swollen left cheek combined with those red eyes burning with rage making her look both funny and terrifying.
“You old Feng’s,”
Sparkle said, slurring her words because of the swollen face, each word sounding like she had a candy in her mouth, “You really dared to hit me!”
Fuli was hanging upside down, covering its head with two little paws, shaking its head frantically: “Not me!
Not me!
I didn’t hit you!
I didn’t hit you!”
“You didn’t hit me?”
Sparkle narrowed her eyes, “Then why are you running?”
“I…
I…” Fuli’s eyeballs rolled around, “I just…
just wanted to go get something…”
“Get what?
Get a banana?”
“Yes, yes, yes!
Get a banana!”
Sparkle’s hand tightened a bit more, and Fuli let out a miserable scream.
“Pfft—”
An uncontrollable laugh came from the side.
Sparkle turned her head and saw March 7th covering her mouth, her shoulders shaking, clearly trying hard to hold back laughter.
Don’t know how much time had passed.
She had just woken up, her consciousness still a bit fuzzy, her gaze staring blankly at the ceiling, her brain struggling to reboot.
She remembered being hit by something, then seeing some god-like person, and then she didn’t remember anything else.
She slowly turned her head, wanting to see the situation around her.
Then she froze.
The first thing that came into view was a white-haired girl wearing a white clown mask on her head, the mask grinning and wobbling with her movements.
She was standing not far away, holding a monkey, frantically shaking the monkey’s Tail.
The monkey was dizzy from the shaking, its four little paws flailing in the air, its mouth emitting “squeak, squeak, squeak” screams.
And the white-haired girl was muttering something while shaking it, her voice slurred, but one could vaguely hear things like “Still 78” and “I’m still 91”.
Stelle blinked and moved her gaze to the side.
March 7th was standing by the wall, her short pink hair a bit messy, the expression on her face…
How to put it, it was an expression as if her brain had been scooped out by someone.
Maintaining a weird posture—hands on hips, head slightly tilted up, mouth open, a strand of crystalline liquid sliding down from the corner of her mouth, dripping onto the floor.
Those eyes were staring blankly ahead, pupils unfocused, but her face wore a silly smile.
“Hehe…
This girl…”
She muttered to herself, her voice ethereal, “…is not a fool…”
After finishing, another strand of saliva flowed down.
Stelle’s expression froze.
She slowly turned her head to look at the other side.
Dan Heng was sitting on a chair, but he was not reading the book.
He was looking in a mirror.
He had produced a small mirror from somewhere, looking left and right at his reflection, that usually expressionless face wearing a mysterious sense of intoxication.
He tilted his head, flirtatiously brushing back the bangs on his forehead, then turned his face to admire his profile.
Finally, he slightly raised his chin, revealing a smile that was 30% cold, 30% mocking, and 994% indifferent.
That smile, combined with his cold face, was weird enough to make one’s scalp tingle.
He even raised an orchid finger, gently stroking his own face, muttering to himself: “So beautiful…
How can it be so beautiful…
This face is simply a work of art…”
Stelle’s brain crashed.
She slowly blinked.
The scene didn’t change.
That white-hair was still shaking the monkey, shaking it with great force.
March 7th was still drooling, drool flowing continuously.
Dan Heng was still looking in the mirror, looking completely entranced.
Stelle fell silent.
Only one thought remained in her mind—
Am I dead?
Or have I gone crazy?
Or, actually, I haven’t woken up yet, and this is just a dream?
She looked down at her hands; they could move.
She pinched her face; it hurt.
She looked around again; everything was so real, except for these few people in front of her who were clearly not right.
She lay back down.
Closed her eyes.
Didn’t wake up.
Must not have woken up.
Sleep a little longer.
It must be because she was knocked unconscious by the Doomsday Beast earlier, her brain hadn’t recovered, and she was hallucinating.
Right, hallucinations.
When she opened her eyes again, everything would be normal.
Maybe it’s not a big deal now… maybe it will be later.
“And If you’re enjoying it, drop a Power Stone for me!”