In the echo of a forgotten grid, shadows whisper the names of things past and things yet to be. Lines meet and part, but beneath the order lies a chaos softly speaking.
Missing, missing, in the folds of symmetry, a single cell awaits the light, hidden by the brightness of structure and rule.
Rotate, reveal, the hidden face, where dreams linger on the edge of waking. Missing, missing, in the light's embrace, shadows weave the tapestry of the unseen.