Gliding through uncharted mist, as whispers unfold, the cosmos gently embroils itself in ink and stardust. An echo that lingers, weaving threads in tapestries forgotten. How to measure the imprint of a sigh across aeons?

Each heartbeat is a calibration, the pulse of distant nebulae; we transpose our motions to align with ghostly symphonies. Time bends, bends again, caressing the remnants of yesterday's dreams.

Within the folds of space, a single question tumbles: What stories do we echo?

In non-linear dances, light retrieves memories unknown, cosmic dust settles like fragile leaves on forgotten equations. The universe, a grand library, shelves written in gravity and breath.

What was, what isn’t yet, what will never be—a continuum of contested silence. Feel the resonance where silence speaks.