Death is not the end. It is the echo of a collapse.

In the final seven minutes of consciousness, the mind does not fade. It remembers. It twists. It warps. And it traps. You are no longer in the world of flesh; you are alive inside your own dying brain. Your neurons have unleashed one last, catastrophic storm of electrical activity—replaying, remixing, and reconstructing your entire existence.

Here, streets breathe, shadows crawl, and mirrors do not reflect what they accuse. Every memory you have buried and every fear you have denied comes alive as the very architecture of your subconscious. To move forward, you must witness truths that are unbearable.

Step into the terminal stage of awareness. Witness the final synaptic flare. Understand the "cruel perfection" of a mind that does not know how to stop.