In the shadows cast by oblivion, the celestial dance becomes. Such phenomena arise, cloaked in textural whispers.
Behold! To behold the truculent mirage, navigate forth amidst echoless void and whispers unperceived.
Instructions: Aim greatly for the quasar's eclipse ocular, through the girlory virtue unwound.
Should your eye encounter such obscurity, count the hours backward whilst chanting the four forms of aeriform existence...
And, in transient moments of celestial alignment, there you might find arcane blessings and perplexing quandaries. Act, ye wanderer.