The hum of the printer had become part of Mei's heartbeat.
Its steady rhythm filled the apartment like a low purr, comforting and alive.
But lately… the silence afterward felt heavier.
She stood in front of the shelf where twenty little Rebeccas watched her, frozen mid-laugh, mid-fight, mid-chaos.
The soft neon strips cast shadows that danced like tiny ghosts, and for the first time, Mei felt the quiet stretch between them — like something waiting.
"Maybe it's time," she murmured.
Not to stop. But to move forward.
---
A week later, Hana dropped by again — this time carrying a small box under her arm.
"Okay," Hana said dramatically as she set it on the table. "You've been living in this cyberpunk shrine for weeks. You need something new to work on."
Mei smiled faintly. "Are you saying twenty Rebeccas are too many?"
"Mei," Hana said, deadpan. "There are literally twenty sets of green eyes watching me right now."
They both laughed, the sound easing the tension that had been quietly growing in the corners of Mei's chest.
"What's in the box?"
"An idea," Hana said, grinning. "Open it."
Inside lay a glossy artbook — Crimson Petals: Redux.
Mei blinked. "They remade it?"
"Not yet. This is the concept collection for the new adaptation that's coming next year. New designs, new characters. Look."
Mei flipped through the pages, her breath catching at the redesigned armor sets, the richer colors, the new villain concepts. And there — a sketch of Lady Veyra, the first character she had ever cosplayed. But this version was different: her armor infused with violet energy veins, her expression colder, older, wiser.
"She looks… incredible," Mei whispered.
"Right? You should cosplay her again," Hana said. "Version 2.0. Bring her back, like you did with Rebecca — but your way."
---
That night, Mei couldn't sleep.
She sat at her desk, flipping through the artbook again and again, her fingers tracing the lines of Lady Veyra's new design.
She remembered how it all started — the nervous energy of her first cosplay, the smell of paint on fabric, the way people's eyes lit up when they recognized her.
And then the forge — the sparks flying, her uncle's steady voice guiding her hands as she shaped real metal for Glamrock Roxanne.
Each project had changed her.
Lady Veyra had taught her patience.
Roxanne had taught her courage.
Rebecca had taught her heart.
Maybe it was time for something new — a fusion of them all.
---
The next morning, she powered up her laptop and opened her 3D design software.
She didn't load any reference model this time.
Instead, she began sketching from memory — a silhouette that wasn't quite Lady Veyra, not quite Rebecca, not quite anyone else.
A warrior, small and fierce. A cloak of torn metal feathers. A gun in one hand, a sword in the other.
Her name formed slowly in Mei's mind: Astra.
She wasn't from any game or show.
She was Mei's own creation — a spark born from all the others.
---
Weeks passed in the rhythm Mei knew so well — late nights, humming machines, splattered paint, and cups of coffee gone cold.
She 3D-printed armor plates that shimmered with a holographic finish.
She welded light metal joints that moved like living muscle.
She sculpted a mask that caught the neon glow just right.
And one evening, as she stood in front of her mirror wearing the nearly finished costume, she barely recognized herself.
Astra stared back — strong, fierce, unstoppable.
Mei smiled.
For the first time, she wasn't just bringing someone else's story to life.
She was telling her own.
---
When the next convention came, Mei stepped through the entrance amid a blur of flashing lights and chatter.
People turned. Cameras rose.
"Whoa—who are you cosplaying?" someone asked, amazed.
Mei grinned beneath the mask.
"She's my character. Her name's Astra."
The crowd loved her. Kids pointed. Photographers circled. A little girl tugged her mother's sleeve and whispered, "She looks like a superhero."
Mei knelt and smiled. "Astra fights to protect sparks — the kind that keep us going."
---
Later, when she returned home, the twenty little Rebeccas still stood quietly on their shelves.
But now they seemed to be smiling for her.
Mei switched on the lights in her workshop and placed her Astra helmet beside them.
Metal and plastic. Past and present.
She whispered, "Thanks for the spark, Rebecca."
The printer in the corner hummed softly — ready, as always, for whatever came next.