Are we merely shadows upon a tapestry woven with cosmic dust and aspiration? In the stillness of the void, the unheard songs resonate like whispers in a grand hall of silence.
Every atom remembers the stories we choose to forget; every quasar sings timeless, unsung truths. Where does one begin to trace the lineage of light itself, dancing eternally across the astral sea?
To understand the universe, must we first unmask our own reflections? Or does the alignment of celestial bodies affect our destinies, written in starlight, inked on water?
Read further tales lost between dimensions: Paradoxical Strands | Theory of Folds Echoes of Silence