Whispers from oblivion, where shadows entwine with stardust, forging the tapestry of forgotten realms...
Lost amidst the ruptured veils of time, I chase the refractive dreams spoken in galactic tongues.
If fate possesses a melody, let it ripple across the void like mists of ancient, celestial seas.
Through obsidian shadows, the ancient tales breathe:
“Do you recall being stitched into the cosmic quilt? Points of light vibrating in resonance?”
Arrange the fragments of your being; mildew of fate will not be ignored...
Journey onward to revelations: