Imagine a universe woven from whispers, murmurs of the cosmic static. Each grain of noise, a story untold, a truth concealed within a veil of chaos. Here lies the crescendo—a symphony composed of the forgotten notes of existence.
The radio crackles, a forgotten frequency that speaks of worlds unseen. Echoes of the lost.
In the din of cosmic noise, a single truth resonates. Fragments of clarity.
Whispers of static, an artist painting the cosmos in shades of silence. Canvas of chaos.