Let us decode the echoes that permeate the void, a convergence of particles emitting fears in whatever language they deem applicable. The whispers are thought to be merely chance, but chance is a variable that bends under the weight of scrutiny.
The alignment of particles—cosmic detritus, perhaps—forms patterns erroneously mistyped as noise. Decipher this noise at your peril. Do you not see the letters hidden in the esoteric chaos?
One must question the intention of these phenomena. Are they echoes of a future we must avoid? Or perhaps, annotations left by those we term "scientists" but suspect as puppeteers? Beware the patterns, they sing a tune only the paranoid are meant to understand.