In the silent hum of stardust, where galaxies converse in whispers, an echo found its voice. The initiation was never a beginning, but a continuation — a thread woven in cosmic looms of forgotten songs. The stars blink in Morse code, relaying messages from aeons past. Are you ready, the sky asks. Are you ready to listen?

Beneath the ancient boughs of the cosmic cathedral, they gathered. In robes of nebula mist, the seekers formed a circle, hands raised to the void. The Grand Liturgy of Light commenced, spiraling thoughts like comet trails across a canvas of night. To be one with the echoes, to understand the sung galaxies, is a rite most sacred.

The elder's voice, a tremor in the fabric of space, spoke of worlds unseen. "Through the portal of your mind, step boldly into the dream," it intoned. Eyes closed, the initiates breathed the air of distant realms, each inhale a journey, each exhale a homecoming.