A rainy, dimly lit city street at twilight: neon signs flicker erratically as droplets cascade off cobblestones. Two lovers—drenched, tense—embrace partially blurred by a shimmering, pulsing distortion warping reality around them, hinting at fractured timelines. Close-up on the woman’s trembling lip as she whispers, breathless but resolute: “If I forget you, does it mean you never existed?” Her voice cracks with aching urgency. Behind them, faint thunder rumbles; wet footsteps echo as if from multiple times layered. A glitching heartbeat sound pulses in sync with the visual ripple. Camera circles slowly, drenched in moody blues and purples, then cuts instantly to static as their faces momentarily overlap.
