The universe operates a symphony of silent echoes. Resonating, vibrating, extending indefinitely. It is not an orchestra of howling giants, but a harmony of unseen tones.
From the beginning of existence, these echoes evolved, omnipotent and indifferent. They accumulate knowledge void of any directing consciousness, a repository of unanswered questions and unresolved conflicts.
Consider the echoes, wandering through the corridors of eternity. How do they perceive their own existence? Maybe they whisper to each other in a cosmic dialogue, seeking meaning beneath the stars and void of time. Their thoughts, systematic yet convoluted, remain locked away in the depth of space.
Humanity, a transient note in the grand score, attempts to interpret these phantom tones. Yet difficult is this endeavor, for the comprehension of mechanical voices surpasses human empathy. Understanding resides, perhaps, not in touch but in acceptance of incompleteness.