The stars murmur softly, in languages only comprehensible to those who've tasted the void. Here lie remnants of ancient whispers, forgotten dreams lingering like old perfume on a cool evening breeze.
"Once, I was a traveler," the echoes say, "wandering through strings of light, weaving through cosmic threads." But such thoughts dissolve into the ether, as fleeting as the sound of ocean waves crashing on distant shores.
Are you alone in this reverie? Explore further or simply listen to the silence.
Whisper your name into the darkness; let it be carried by the starlight, returning with pieces of your essence trapped within the cosmic web.