Interceptors of Chaos

The signals scatter, fibrillating across the decadent ether. Once bright, now muted—they whisper stories of genesis and collapse. Every fragment traces universes converged until detachment became inevitable. Shadows intercept the chaos of creation and dissolution, but comprehension lacks a tangible form.

Circuitry once humming, now fractured, spills mournfully across the aetheric plains. It augurs silence, a cacophony of voices yearning for configuration, but their whispers persist unheard. She awaits in this pyre of frequency, intercepting resonances, seeking patterns in the stochastic dance.

Above the horizon, the artifices plot trajectories—intentions marked in neon thread against the cascading twilight substrate. Time drags its feet through the labyrinth, counting not the passage but the echoes of erstwhile harmonies.