The stars above Julius were not just points of light. They were whispers of forgotten worlds, echoing through the vastness of the cosmos. Each night, he lay upon the cold earth, etching his soul into constellations, hoping their silent murmurs would unveil the stories hidden within.
On one such night, cloaked in the midnight's embrace, a flicker pierced the dark—a falling star, tracing a transient arc. Julius reached out as if to grasp it, only for it to vanish beyond the horizon, leaving behind a trail of dreams suspended in its wake.
But these weren't new dreams. They were remnants stitched within the fabric of the universe, tales of past lives lingering on the brink of dawn. Julius listened closely, for he knew they held secrets unheard by others; a whisper in the solitude of space—echoes from forgotten threads.