Once upon an astral bend, where light refuses to die and shadows dance on the cusp of forgotten stories, there exists a relay—a whispering node of cosmic myths. |--- doodle: a cup of stardust spills over the edge ---| The stars here are not just points on a celestial map; they are memories, stories etched into the void, waiting for those daring enough to piece them together. Linda gazed up, her heart tethered to the past and the present intertwined like vines on an ancient tree. The constellations seemed to beckon—an unseen current pulling her toward the relay of the stars. In her mind, she saw the scribbles—doodles in the margins of the universe. A constellation shaped like a quill, another like an inkpot, both winking in the canvas of night, asking her to uncover their tales. The relay whispered in a language older than time, a melody of light and dark, of silence and the echo of stories never told. Linda stepped forward, ready to become part of the narrative woven in the sky. She found herself in a constellation not charted, drawn anew from the essence of her dreams and the stars' ancient voice — a connection, a Relay.
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