The movie has ended. The end credits fade, and the screen turns pure white. But the lights do not come on. When you turn around—the seats that should have been filled just moments ago are empty. All that remains is the emergency lighting and the low hum of the air conditioning. You leave the screening room. Then, your feet stop. Something is wrong. The deserted lobby, the closed concession stand. The stopped escalator. From all of it—the color has drained away. The carpet that should have been red. The emergency exit sign that was green. The movie posters that were once vivid. White, black, gray. The world itself has turned monochrome, as if you had stepped into an old film. Only the exit arrow glows faintly. You follow it. You turn a corner, pass through a door. —And find yourself back in the same lobby. The posters on the walls are the same. No—there is one more. A pitch-black poster with no title. Only white letters float at its center. 《SCREEN 0》 That was when, somewhere far away, an old projector began to turn. Clack, clack, clack... In the empty cinema, a single light comes on. Beyond that light stretches a narrow passage that did not exist until just now. Will you search for an exit, examine the lobby, or head toward SCREEN 0? The cinema says nothing. It simply waits for the next scene to begin.