Treabar

  Xing Jianya, like a lonely star in the middle of the night, quietly hangs in the endless sky. Her existence is ordinary but extremely important. She has no grand background and no natural advantages. Her strength does not come from the skills of winning by surprise, but in countless silent moments, she constantly surpasses…

  On the colorful Xingqiong Railway, Wangguiren is like a faint cold moon, quietly wandering between dreams and reality. Her materials are not a simple pile of numbers, but the cold and hot marks in each cycle of fate, like a joy and sorrow on the stage, cold and beautiful but unable to break free…

  The Starry Sky Railway, like a road that never ends, crosses time and space and quietly extends forward. Everyone who walks on this road can’t help but ask themselves whether they can persist until the end. Wangguiren, she is also walking on this road. She has no glorious past, nor a destined bright future.…

  In the intersection of this boundless void, Sunday is like a wisp of cold wind, quietly passing through the gaps of the battlefield. He is not dazzling, but cold as ice, silently weaving an invisible net for his teammates, driving the quiet rotation of the battle rhythm. — 1. Lonely support: the silent power…

  Forget the returnee, the faint flame in the Star Dome Railway, burning quietly, but it is particularly eye-catching in the dark night. She is not like the howling wind on the battlefield, but like the candlelight swaying gently in the wind, soft and firm. Her existence is like a silent poem, telling the secret…

  All the updates in the world are the prelude to reincarnation, and all the new characters are like paper lanterns lit in the dark night, illuminating not hope but temptation. The card pool of Mingchao 2.0 version is quietly opened, without drums or horns, only in a seemingly ordinary early morning, the name of…

  Under the boundless starry sky, The name of Sunday is like a low cry, Surrounded by fragmented thoughts, Like cold broken ice, it is difficult to piece together a complete dream. Fifteen pieces of impression remnants, Like mottled graffiti on mottled walls, The broken reflection of the broken mirror of desire, Reflecting the indelible…