From the nebula's embrace, the stars whisper secrets untold. The fiery palette of gas and dust dances, painting the void with a memory of color. To stand here, suspended in the cosmic ballet, is to touch eternity.
On the icy rings of Synthar's third moon, silence is a melody. The crystalline winds create a symphony unheard by all but the stars. Time drifts slowly, measured by the dance of distant suns.