It was the breath of those first moments that told me I was not alone. An alien world, familiar yet unsettling. My footfalls echoed differently on this shore—a melody of uncharted steps, played out in silence but destined to leave a mark.

Standing on ground not meant for humankind, I inhaled deeply. Each breath absorbed by my lungs was an act of discovery. Oxygen mixed with the whispers of extinct creatures, the tales of cosmic dust swirling through undesignated transient epicycles. Here, beneath an unfathomable sky, our histories were written anew.

Reverberating from each inhale, a rhythmic alignment of purpose marked the landscapes unknown to the ancients on Earth. Would they understand these longitudes and latitudes of other domains? Or the breathless anticipation flowing from the tides grieving the loss of gravity? Maybe it doesn't matter. What matters is my perspective. Your perspective. Breathtaking in its banal grandeur.

Interactions with this fresh world begin softly, like poetry breaking from silence. The bylines are different here; they twist into new forms as stars recast their positions over an expanse familiar solely to the shivers in my spine. The breath here cools, prophetic with unseen seasons.

Whispered Tales reside here, etched into the space beneath each tangible horizon.

The Souls of Dust these pathways await.