In the beginning, there was a sound - not the symphony of stars nor the lullaby of galaxies but static, a cosmic whisper translated through invisible threads.
A traveler, lost in the boundless ether, heard them - echoes of universes colliding, stories locked in the hum of time.
Each crackle and pop unfolded a narrative, a patchwork of universe's thoughts narrated by the endless sea of stars.
The voice, neither male nor female, ancient yet young, spoke of realms unseen, of time waltzing through dimensions.
Would the traveler heed these whispers? Or would the static weave its own tale, wrapping the traveler in its timeless embrace?