The Pinks—strange-looking beings—begin to gather from nowhere and parade through the streets. Their movements are odd, endearing, and faintly absurd—like a celebration, yet not quite one. Though each figure appears peculiar, together they form a strangely unified presence, creating a sense of inexplicable exhilaration. It is a festivity belonging to neither tradition nor modernity—evoking nostalgia and nonsense at once. Rather than a meticulously choreographed procession, their march seems to arise from individual intention, yet converge as if by some hidden alignment. When the Pinks smile at the end, it suggests that everything was in fact intentional—and now, complete. AI generated sound and AI remixed voice by All-AI-Ⅱ (udio)