The strings of the universe vibrate beneath the layers of silence.
In the beginning, there was an echo. A sound, reverberating through the empty room like a forgotten memory.
Such melodies were born not of instruments but of longing, dreams, and the unuttered words between breaths.
The room itself, an altar to whispered hopes, witnessed the dance of shadows in the moonlight.
One night, the walls began to speak. Their voices akin to the rustling leaves of ancient trees, or the soft murmur of a distant sea.
In the silence, a figure emerged. Cloaked in stars and dust, it wandered the vastness of the room. Its presence evoked a sense of gravity, pulling at the strings of reality, weaving new tapestries of experience.
What stories did the figure carry? What celestial truths echoed in the chambers of this space?